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

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

Issue 37.4 of the Review for Religious, 1978. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS iS edited in collaboration with faculty members of the Department of Theology of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. © 1978 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $8.00 a year; $15.00 for two years. Other countries: $9.00 a year, $17.00 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Joseph F. Gailen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor July, 1978 Volume 37 Number 4 Correspondence with the editor and the associate editors, manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REVIEW VOa RELIGtOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. "Out of print" issues and articles not re-issued as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 North Zeeb Road; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. The Prayer of Darkness Carol Jean Vale, S.S.J. Sister Carol Jean is on the staff of St. Joseph Academy; Main Street; McSherrystown, PA 17344. An earlier contribution of Sister Carol Jean was "God, Community and the Religious Person" (September, 1976). The prayer of darkness shadows the human spirit after a moment of unparalleled, penetrating, haunting luminescence. For a moment God's life blazes in the center of the heart with an energy and vitality never previously perceived. So intensely does he reveal himself that it seems as though we are for the first time entering into life. Present existence appears dulled and unreal in the advent of so dynamic a presence. Dt~ring this experience we f~el so free that we could willingly surrender all to him and enter forever into this extraordinary existence so strangely, familiar and familiarly strange. The whole of our person ignites into a Conflagration of burning love and flaming longing for the living God. With false certainty, our intellect assures us that, finally, we have arrived at the. point of union with the transcendent Being] A radiating peace suffuseg our person and joy explodes in the rhythm of our hearts. " Such an experience may occur only once with tremendous power and potency, or it may recur over a relatively brief period of time for a few minutes dispersed through the c~3urse of several days or weeks. In the latter case, a loving Father gentles us along' slipping in and out of presence. Then--all goes black. Night descends. What remains of the experience is a living memory so real, so vivid that it charges the absence with an almost physical anguish of longing. This memory sustains us .through the darkness as it reminds us of the presence we seek and cannot now perceive. The keen remembrance of his presence is God's gift--it is spiritual food for the desert 481 482 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 of purification, for the night of daikness. The intense experience of God imprints on our spirit a knowledge of the destination to which we afe journeying. Indelibly inscribed in our hearts is the memory 0fthe presence of the God towards whom we are on pilgrimage. As the light within us to darkness dims, the flicker of the flame of his presence fires our minds with the knowledge that even in the darkness his Unseen presence shines. The memory of the light gives a vision of the journey's end though the way is charged with dark uncertainty. The value of this prayer of darkness is that it stretches us to the very limits of our being. It calls forth the essence of the energy of life even as it empties us of the essence of the power of death. Darkness breeds out the selfish desires, the egotistical goals, the hidden plottings of the covered and unknown subconscious. This prayer reveals us to ourselves as we are in God's sight and it empowers us to surrender to his transforming vision. While the sensible presence of God evades our questing, his unper-ceived presence burns our spirit to new depths of holiness. To view this process would be to die from too much revelation, so the darkness conceals the blinding fires of God's blazing furnace. The prayer of darkness is de-signed to lead us to a faith that slowly reveals the Fa~her--a gentle light glowing in the core of our inmost being. This light fires itself into the "living flame of love" only at the price of total surrender, absolute denial, con-summate purification. It seems strange that what is supposed to be so good pains us so terribly. The healing touch of God, like the knife of the diligent surgeon, stabs pain into the firm skin of our insidious sinfulness. Each moment of intense touching leaves the recipient reeling in a vacuum of tenebrity and agony. This darkness, which grows seemingly more and more impenetrable, slowly tempers us to withstand a light eqiaal in luminosity to the density of its opaque blaCkness. Phototropic like the seedling, we grow lightwards only at the cost of piercing the dark earth, dirt grain by dirt grain. The process of ascent proceeds slowly, and demands a careful scrutiny of each grain of sin and imperfection before that minute piece of earth moves aside and allows us to pass on to the next invariably different grain. The darkness of this night uncovers the darkness lurking within our own hearts. We behold ourselves as sinners even as we behold God's holiness as it floods the shores of our minds with the incredible truth of its potency. Such knowledge leads us deeper into the night where we know instinctively that we will be bared to the dark rays of a light powerful enough to eradicate the effects of sin~s tenacious grasp. It becomes clear to us that each at-tachment or need must be displaced. All that is not God must be relin-quished. EvEn our most secret loves must be released. Those attachments to which we cling unaware must be cauterized by a dark and unrelenting fire which flames secretly within us. Aware only of the darkness, we often fail to see the new light that slowly emerges as even those sins we knbw not become purified by the heat of the furnace of God. Such darkness is the price of vision. The Prayer of Darkness / 483 Early in formation we learned that the absence of God's consolation in prayer is an experience that everyone undergoes to a greater or lesser intensity. Yet, no matter how much we have read, heard, or pondered, when the night descends panic and question envelop us as well. We knew it would be painful, but never did we expect this degree of agony. We knew it would touch our lives with trials, but not that it would pierce into every corner of our lives demanding conversion. We knew that we needed purification, but not that we required the intensity of an inferno to burn away our ingrained loves. We knew that it would last a long time, but not that it might stretch out over years of molding, remolding, and molding yet again. For some reason, we do not actually believe that we are as sinful as the degree of purification would indicate. We fail to understand that he wants all, really all, and that he will stop at nothing to strip us of the affections that hold us back from the vision of his face. Perhaps the cross tests a dimension of man never explored by joy. Suffering and joy meet only in the moment of God. Joy draws us to the heights while suffering carves in us new caverns of depth. It is analogous to the. reflection of a high mountain in a limpid blue, crystal-mirroring lake. If the mountain's height could be perfectly scaled into the waters of the luminous lake it would, accurately represent the effect that suffering has on joy. The deeper the suffering the higher the'joy, reaching into the altitude of God. The cross tries the ability to endure, to expand in consciousness, to sail the seas of unknown mystery and to chart the oceans of unexplored inner space. Suffering is the vehicle that alone lets us enter and safely travel in the atmosphere of joy that.transfuses the divine milieu. It is the quality of our dying that determines the quality of our living. To the degree that we have been stripped and emptied will we be inner-directed and unshackled. The more deeply God has penetrated the uncircumcised regions of our hearts, the more freely will we be able to enter into the current of life unencumbered by our own dreams of success and hopes for self-glorification. The existential moment holds untold opportunities for life-choices birthed out~ of our death to callousness, indifference, and egoism. The death of the prayer of darkness draws Us out of ourselves. To survive the struggle it becomes imperative to forget self. If pain turns inward we become small, selfish, bitter, and self-pitying. Only an outward movement insures growth and new depths of holiness. Pain drives us be-yond the confines of the narrow world of "I" to consider, embrace, and compassionate with others. The' night of darkness bestows a new sense, of oneness with all other people for it puts us deeply in touch with the ground of their being. As we come to understand who we are, and who God is we learn to understand who others are and who God is in them. Our outward orientation toward God in pr.ayer seeps over into our everyday lives, be-coming an outward orientation toward others. ,. Trials which tear at every area of our lives characterize this dark 4~14 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 prayer--rejection by, or difficulties in community, lack of understanding on the part of friends, dissatisfaction with our apostolate, family difficulties or deaths, poor health, self-doubt, scrupulosity, lack of fulfillment even in those areas where we once met fulfillment. No created thing seems to be sufficient. There is a gnawing emptiness with the temporal and transient, even the eternal God rests silently in the dark impenetrable stillness of our being. This is but another way that the Lord strips us and shows us the emptiness of an existence apart from him. It is his way to mold our value system. In this state of dark uncertainty, he shapes us to image the design of his heart as each aspect of life reduces or enlarges to its proper pro-portion. Gradually the heart comes to cent(r solely on Jesus as Lord rec-ognizing him as the focal point of all living. The deeper we journey into the night the more we become absorbed in God. Indeed, we continually search for him in the midst of the darkness. At every turn, in every corner of ourselves we quest for some glimpse of the presence that more and more preoccupies our waking and even sleeping moments. The more elusive this lover the more ardently we seek him. Fear that we are not serving him stalks the inner caverns of our minds and we strive more totally to be faithful in the smallest details of our daily living. We are driven to perform voluntary acts of love knowing that such acts will draw us more deeply into the fire and more totally into him. Willing, joyful choices of self-death insure willing, joyful life-choices. Fasting, penance, self-giving constitute forms of self-immolation that seed new life in the fertile soil of the human spirit. The desire to fast from food is a form of death that disciplines the will to choose to fast from death-dealing words and actions. Penance forges in the deepest person a new desire to go beyond the narrow confines of self in an effort to direct our energies in service to others. Each time we transcend ourselves to serve the other we die a little more to that spirit of selfishness that holds us back from God and from those he loves. These active forms of voluntary self-death cannot even begin to approximate the depths of new found freedom wrought by the power of God's purification, but they are our contribution to the night of fire. Blessed is he or she who can call the darkness holy, who can desire its purification, who can rest in the question of its presence. This person will grow rapidly because the process of purification is facilitated by generosity. The more we submit to the fire of tempering the sooner we will find the inferno subsiding. If such generosity does not characterize our attitude, we can ponder the authenti(ity of the prayer itself. The night should birth in us greater service, increased prayer, deeper love of others, As the darkness washes the spirit with new life that life should begin to emerge and become visible to those whom we meet. It is a fire whose by-products are the fruits of the Holy Spirit. All the gifts with which we were endowed at baptism and confirmation become activated as the night of fire frees them from their The Prayer of Darkness / 41t5 resting place in the well of our person. New energy is released and life pours forth to the surface of our lives. The inward darkness more and more manifests itself as outward light. It is a pain that stimulates active concern for others as it burns away the self-concern that is an integral part of our sinful condition. The prayer of darkness is, then, a consuming, non-consuming fire. Our sinful and secret affinities are incinerated and purified while our spirit is filled with a new energy and power for creative living. At the night's be-ginning, we see the fire of God in a moment of intense, indwelling presence. Throughout the night itself the fire's action is so volatile that the flames are hidden from the eyes. The living God ravishes the heart and turns it toward himself. As the night ends we again behold the fire within--the fire that is the God of light dwelling in the ground of our being. This prayer teaches that the vision of God is given only to those who have endured the night of the cross. The prayer of darkness delivers ou~: bodies to the instrument of puri-fication. On this wood we are scourged, immolated, and ultimately con-secrated. To be crucified one must stretch out the whole length of his body. Such a body defies the power of death. It cannot be held. The tension toward life is too great. The body has been stretched beyond the point of death's power. Powerless, defenseless, and weak, the crucified body re-linquishes itself in an act of total faith. "In weakness, my power reaches perfection." This body enters the state of total surrender and in that stance the Lord of life invadeS the human spirit and fills it with the power and strength and light of the life of God. This action constitutes the purpose Of the prayer of darkness. It crucifies the human spirit and purifies it so that once faith becomes the habitual attitude of personal presence to God and others, the Trinity may reveal its dwelling.place in the now light-filled inner space of the heart's secret chamber. God himself has carved out his kingdom in our hearts. Suffused with an atmosphere of faith, irradiated with the light of Jesus Christ, powered by the energy of the Holy Spirit, sacralized by the presence of the Father, this secret room pulses with divine presence. To this dwelling place of God comes the person readied for betrothal. The night of darkness ended, the human spirit basks in the light of God gently flaming in the secret chamber of his fire-tendered heart. The night of darkness is the furnace of God, the birth-bed of life, the dark forger of light. Endured in all of its terrible intensity it creates new space for living. Once ended the night heralds the dawn of the day of forever, the momentless moment of visionless vision. Two Models of Christian Spirituality Val J. Peter Father Peter, a priest of the Archdiocese o.f Omaha, is currently associate professor of theol, ogy at Creighton University; 2500 California St.; Omaha, NE 68178. A I. Case Studies in Confusion young religious complains of problems of vacillation in his prayer life, his relations with others, and his self-concept. These three are generally good when he is performing well. But he has discovered since leaving the novitiate that virtue is not virtue unless there is a realistic alternative. So when his performance inevitably falters, so does his ability to pray. And because his self-concept is also diminished, he really cannot relate "to anyone on a deeper level. At times he is so gripped with a sense of un-worthiness and shame that he is not open to people around him. Because of this he feels intense loneliness and really feels ashamed to express his difficulties to anyone. Often he is paralyzed by an intense introspective-ness, constantly questioning his motives for every'thing. A retired religious finds herself becoming increasingly angry and bitter at her religious order. She was told in the novitiate to strive for perfection, "never be happy with yourself,." andalways try to please. During her long teaching career she was what many considered a model of obedience, piety, and hard work. Now she is old and sick and shunted off into a corner of a retirement home. Since she has outlived her usefulness, she findsJ herself shorn of any self-worth. Her source of securit~ is shattered. She is bitter and angry at the way she was trained, the way she lived, and the way she is now treated. A religious in her thirties has been in counseling for some months. She complains of being increasingly unable to deal with the guilt she feels as a Two Models of Christian Spirituality / 4117 result o fan intense romantic affair of short duration some years previously. She blames a book she read on sex and celibacy for the trouble she got herself into. In her mind God simply will not forgive her so she cannot forget. A former religious talks cynically of his experience in the order as alienating, unhealthy, and destructive. He says he became alienated from himself in that despair and self-hate were the result of his poor perform-ance. He says he became alienated from others beause his daily decision making was inevitably based on trying to conform the world to his need for security. He says it alienated him from God, in that God was seen as master and man as slave, no matter how much official rhetoric denied it. Because of this threefold alienation he has rejected his former order as well as its religion completely. These cases illustrate a central problem of Christian spirituality today. What in truth is God's relationship to his creatures and how does man's behavior fit into this relationship? The gospels tell us of the depths of God's love but they are also filled with urgent moral demands. There are even dire threats and apocalyptic promises. How does all of this fit together? Many of us first faced this issue as children in the context of totalitarian religious control and puritanical restraints. Some still do not see the need to grow beyond it. For the many others who have already freed themselves from this rigid control of behavior by threats and promises, the real issue is no longer how to achieve freedom from such control but rather what this freedom is for. Where do we go from here? Is the on!y option an irre-sponsible permissiveness that sentimentalizes God's love and reduces sin to a series of petty misdemeanors? The answer to these questions may seem ob, vious to some, But they are not so obvious to the anguished people in the cases citedabove. In an age of anxiety and uncertainty it is the obvious that is most in need of exegesis. To illustrate the problem and answer these questions, let us contrast the results flowing from two models of Christian spirituality. We are not seek-ing proof but rather understanding. The evidence brought forth by modern scholars, not to mention the great spiritual masters, is simply too massive to be overlooked: in Christianity ethics is secondary to the central religious affirmation of God's gift of self to ]as in Christ Jesus, So our purpose is to~ understand the relationshiP between divine and human initiative and re-spon. se ~by spelling out the consequences that result from rightly and wrongly understanding ttiis relationship between God and man. Model A: Human Initiative and Divine Response This first model is familiar to all who can relate to the cases cited above. It makes Christianity first and foremost into an ethic. Here the primary source of our security as God's creatures is our performance which God awaits before deciding what attitude to take toward ~us. To rest our security 41111 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 before God on our performance is an easy mistake for us to make. After all, we judge others on the basis of their performance; our attitude toward our fellowman reflects our reaction to his performance. And we expect the same from others. In addition, the mistake is congenial to our American culture with its heavy stress on results and on efficiency. So if a person desires that God love him very much, then he will have to perform very well indeed. ~ What If Your Performance Is Poor? If such is the case, anyone serious about his spiritual life will feel an urgent need to change his behavior, to move from insecurity to security before God, to avoid the wrath that is sure to come, and to advance along the path to perfection. Go to the spirituality section of your library and see how many tomes have the word, perfectio.n, in their titles. Acting on the desire to perform better, one of four things is likely to happen: i. You could change the criteria for good performance, now declaring that the behavior which you had thought was morally evil is in reality very good. ii. You could change the criteria for good performance, now declaring that this troublesome behavior is in reality neither good nor evil but rather of no moral consequence, insignificant and irrelevant to the Christian moral life. iii. You can try to change the poor performance, and fail in the effort. In other words, convinced that your criteria are correct, you embark on a program of moral renewal and fail miserably. You simply cannot change. iv. Or you can try to change your poor performance, and succeed in that effort. Examples of the~e four possibilities come quickly to mind. i. You should be proud of it, not sad. In this approach one changes the moral evaluation of acts to diminish the burdens of guilt. The religious who complains of being unable to deal with the guilt she feels as a result of a brief but intense romantic affair is a prime candidate for this approach. She has performed poorly--by her own evaluation. But feeling the weight of this poor performance and the resulting negative attitude of her God, she may decide (in fact she may be mistakenly encouraged in this decision) upon further reading and reflection that her criterion has reversed itself: God would surely be very displeased if this affair were morally evil; but what if it is not? Was not her loving this man a most important awakening of her humanity as a woman, a maturing of her love psychologically and spirit-ually? Did it not relieve her loneliness, support her faltering ego, moderate her frustrations, and bring a refreshing experience of closeness? Is not God proud of her? Should she not also rejoice and be proud? With this change in criteria comes relief from the agonizing burden of guilt and a new attitude on the part of God. The main point here is that Model A sharply reduces the odds of making sound judgments about criteria for morality. Why? Because the central concern of this religious and others operating under Model A is not to discover the truth of the affair but rather to come to grips effectively with Two Models of Christian Spirituality / 41t9 the guilt and insecurity built into this situation by the model itself. What she is really doing is searching not for truth and genuine value but for a way to eliminate guilt and achieve good performance. The heart of Model A is manifest: "All is well because I perform well." She mistakenly assumes that the divine and human initiative and response are best understood by way of this model. Thus if there are authority figures who assertx andy are worthwhile~ this religious may be persuaded to accept what they say, not because it really is so, but because the security of good performance results from her acceptance of their words. It takes a certain degree of skill and desire for truth to sort out the opinions of various theologians on any topic. If you rummage through their opinions to find one that eliminates guilt, then you.may think you have found a bargain. But like most bargains you only get what you pay for. ii. You're worrying about the wrong things. In this second way of handling poor performance, one simply ceases to worry about a heretofore troublesome area of :morality. The young religious who complains about vacillation in his prayer life, his self-concept, and his relations with others is a prime candidate for this second approach. His problems are impatience, anger, jealousy, and revenge. Feeling the weight of his poor performance, and thus God's displeasure, he is strongly motivated by an urgent need to. stem his reversals and resume his advance along the path to perfection. Here too he can; after study and reflection, come to the conclusion that morality is not so much concerned with "keeping oneself unspotted by the world",as it is with "caring for widows and orphans." He can conclude that impatience and petty jealousy--and .even casual anger and a little re-venge- are pretty much morally indifferent especially in an age when there is so much social injustice in the world: racial prejudice, nuclear blackmail, grinding poverty, overpopulation, and pollution. This certainly makes him feel a lot better about himself. It improves his prayer life and his relationships with others. This is a tremendous benefit in anybody's book. But the point again is that Model A severely limits the chances for making correct moral judgments because its central focus is the intensely felt need to get rid of insecurity and unhappiness. Changing cri-teria can be sound and balanced, but it is seldom so if strongly motivated by the felt insecurity of poor performance in following Model A. For in this model, changing moral criteria can be basically a technique for dealing with guilt rather than the result of a successful search for truth. One of the "benefits" of living in a time when there is both an "old morality" and a "new morality" is that these first two ways of dealing with poor per-formance are more readily available and much more attractive. It's like a gigantic theological "sale." You can find a bargain or two without ever coming tO grips with why you are at the bargain counter in the first place. iii. The darkness of despair. The third way of dealing with poor per-formance is to try to change our behavior and fail miserably in that effort. 490 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 The cynical former religious who considers his experience in his order as alienating and destructive is but one tragic example. He simply could not change his behavior. So he then found himself facing an even more dis-pleased God than before. He was literally in a "hell of a mess." This route is a well-traveled one, worn smooth with the tears of depression, the fa-miliar terrors of the night, and the deep-seated angers of countless an-guished pilgrims. For many, sin-sickness now sets in, not infrequently leading some to the local psychiatrist. A more moderh version of sin-sickness is manifest in the ever increasing need for some to employ various forms of sensitivity training and make them into a way of life. The other option, chosen by the alienated former religious, is to reject altogether the religion of such a Tormentor-God in order to preserve one's mental health. If these are the only choicesmmental breakdown or rejection of religion--it is understandable why the latter would seem attractive. In these circum-stances, who would be so insensitive and cruel as to threaten such a person with the biblical consequences of an atheism he now embraces as a last resort? One certainly gains an insight into the problems of Model A by analyzing the despair one is led to under these circumstances. One cannot .turn to God. One is rather driven away from God who has become not the source of all security and all care but the very opposite. , iv. I have fought the good fight and won the race. The fourth way of dealing with poor performance is to try to change our behavior and succeed in that effort. What are the problems that loom large for such a person as he strives to live the Christian life? What If Your Performance Is Good? If such is the case a Model A person is sure to feel secure in the knowledge that God is pleased with him, loves him a great deal, and has a commensurate reward waiting for him in the life to come. Three problems, however, plague the success of a Model A Christian, problems built into the model itself: i. problems of self-righteousness and self-Sufficiency ii. problems of self-deception iii. problems with ongoing conversion. Examples come quickly to mind. i. Lord, I thank you that I am not like the rest of men. A man who has achieved considerable success in his priestly life may feel his consistently good performance to be a source of great security and happiness. But since his security is in his performance and not in God as a result of using this model, he ~pays a high price for it. He feels self-righteously superior to others; he looks down on them; he tends not to listen very much to their ideas (after all if they were so smart, why aren't they more successful?). This priest seldom, if ever, seeks spiritual advice and does not need a Two Models of Christian Spirituality / 491 spiritual director. He is self-sufficient. He is his own counselor--and con- ¯ sequently has a fool for a client. This priest sees no problems in living out his permanent commitment since he is particularly strong-willed and has highly developed coping techniques. He is convinced that all those who break their permanent commitments are simply weak-kneed and callow, lacking willpower. ii. Using the publican's words while praying the pharisee's prayer. Take the case of a highly successful religious who believes that his good performance really and trulyis due to God's grace. He does not merely ask God foi" good fortune while attaining virtue on his own. No, he says, it is God's grace~that makes him both want to perform well and actually do so. But, he says, God has given his grace indifferently and impartially to all, only to be fair, to give everyone a fighting chance. Life is for him much like a race in which God, as 'referee and judge, to be fair and impartial, gives everyone a fighting chance. So this religious could not have been successful without God's help, just as a football team cannot win the game if the referees are not fair. Yet now he has won so God owes him the promised reward. He is deceived by his success--not only about permanent com-mitment but also about success and failure, his own and others'. And h~ peddles his products to a ready-made market where they are in great de-mand. So by using the publican's words as packaging, he deceives himself and his customers into thinking they are buying something other than the pharisee's problems. ~ iii. If today you hear his voice, do not harden your heart. Take the case of a dynamic, n0-nonsense sister who has achieved considerable success as principal in an affluent parochial school. She has always been a winner ever since the novitiate days when she was singled' out as a future leader. She does.not tolerate--and neither does God--failure~in her own life nor in the teachers under her. On this tight ship they either produce or walk the plank. Success has long secured for her the status and acclaim that God and her public have in store for winners. She's got the world on the end of a string. Mother Teresa is scheduled to talk in town, and this principal out of curiosity makes a special effort to go and see for herself what this "living saint" has to offer. But she gets more than she bargained for. In a:totally unexpected flash of. insight she sees Mother Teresa surrounded by success yet seemingly oblivious to, and immune from, what are now clearly seen as its seductive effects. By comparison she suddenly experiences just for a moment the spiritual shabbiness of her own small love for God and his people. How was she to know? What must God think of her now? Thus does her long established but~tenuous security vanish in the intensity of the moment. What is she to do? Either she puts these thoughts out of her mind by explaining them away (something not too hard to do) or she will be thrown back into the insecurity before God which she has seen so often in others 492 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 and which, she thought, her complete success had vanquished. The former is clearly a much more attractive option. In other words the security of good performance is a very tenuous security indeed. It lasts only as long as good performance lasts. It finds immense difficulties in acknowledging the need for an ever deepening change of heart, an ever deepening realization of our sinfulness and our inability to love God more--the ongoing need for a Savior and Redeemer. Let us conclude with a brief look at the case of the retired religious who, having outlived her usefulness, noff finds herself increasingly isolated in lonely bitterness and resentment. She is suffering from an ailment prevalent in.Model A, a pathology which Rollo May once called "the divine right to be taken care of." When she wasstill young in the religious life she entered into a contract with God which read as follows: "I, Sister Alice, the party of the first part, agree that I shall always and forever permanently give up the following activities for my entire lifetime: worshipping other gods, taking the Lord's name in vain, dishonoring parents, killing, committing sexual sins, stealing, cheating, lying, and coveting. I further agree to relinquish my right to make moral judgments to God, the party of the second part, and his lawful representatives. And I, God, the party of the second part, in return for the faithful obedience of the party of the first part, do hereby grant Sister Alice the right to my special care; and I, God, do further promise that if she keeps her promise, I will reward the party of the first part with success and happiness." Well, Sister Alice, retired and shunted off to a corner of a rest home, is not as happy now as she thinks she should be. So, she feels, God has not kept his part of the contract. He has not honored her "divine right to be taken care of." What happens? Confusion, anger, and resentment take hold and spiritual collapse is near. "I was promised that I would always be taken care of if I were obedient. Look how obedient I have been all my life. So why am I not being taken care of?." Notice how different this is from the genuine Christian response: "Lord, I love you no matter what." Notice too thatthis kind of contract is also popular in the postconciliar Church. Only minor modifications are necessary. First, substitute the char-acteristics of love listed in 1 Co 13 for the Ten Commandments. Secondly, substitute the duty always to follow one's conscience for the duty always to obey religious superiors. The rest of the contract is the same, as aie the results. ~ For many people accustomed to living by Model A there is an under-standable reluctance to leave it behind. Although their behavior is rigidly controlled by threats and promises, they suspect that the only alternative is a model which whitewashes all activity no matter how morally atrocious by saying: it doesn't matter what you do because God loves you no matter what. They see Model A as at least remaining faithful to the radical de- Two Models of Christian Spirituality / 493 mands of the gospel. And they suspect that the only alternative is to abandon these radical demands in favor of a watered down gospel of sen-timental love. They rightly see a gospel of sentimental love as doubly defective, unfaithful as it is to both the radical love of God and to his demands as well. Where do we go from here? Is the only option an irre-sponsible permissiveness that reduces sin to a series of petty misde-meanors? That is the question which.we shall directly address in the second part of this study. II. Case Studies in Confidence We have been looking at the gospels. They tell us of the depths of God's love for us but they are also filled with urgent moral demands. We even find their pages filled with dire threats and apocalyptic promises. How does all of this fit together? Many of us faced thi~ issue as children in the context of authoritarian religious control and puritanical restraints. Many still do not know how to grow beyond this context. For others who have already freed themselves from this rigid control of behavior by the threats and promises inherent in Model A (described graphically in Part I), the real issue is no longer how to achieve freedom from that totalitarian control but rather, what is this freedom for? What is this freedom grounded in and oriented towards? Where do we go from here? Is the only option an irre-spon, sible permissiveness that sentimentalizes God's love and reduces sin to inconsequential misdemeanors? Model B: Divine Initiative and Human Response So we will look at another model of moral performance. This one does not ground our security in our performance but rather in the Good News of God's self gift. A word of caution is in order here. As mentioned at the conclusion of Part I, for many people accustomed to living by Model A there is an understandable .reluctance to leave it behind. Although their behavior is rigidly controlled by threats and promises, they suspect that the only al-ternative is a model which whitewashes all activity, no matter how morally atrocious, by saying: it doesn't matter what you do because God loves you no matter what. They see Model A as at least remaining faithful to the radical demands of the gospel. And they suspect that the only alternative is to abandon these radical demands in favor of a watered down gospel of sentimental love. They rightly see such a gospel as doubly defective. It is unfaithful not only to the radical moral demands of the gospel but also to the radical nature of God's love as well. Unfortunately so many examples of people abandoning the radical demands of the gospel for a watered down version of the love ethic can be cited that these seem to be the only two options available---one even more defective than the other. Model B, as we shall call it, goes beyond these two options. It is a higher 494 / Review for Religious, Volume 37,~ 1978/4 viewpoint arrived at by way of a deeper understanding of the relationship between God and man. In this model one tries to be faithful to the truth of both the immediacy of God's care (his radicallove no matter what), and the immediacy of God's demands which flow from this divine love. Unlike Model A, this model does not make Christianity into just an ethic. It rather understands that Christianity is first and foremost an effec-tive affirmation of God's relationship with his creation: it is the revelation in Christ Jesus of God's own gift of se!f, his love--sacrificial love--no matter what. Unlike the sentimental love posture, this model takes God's love so seriously that there is an urgent, radical call to respond. It is out of this incredibly serious gift of God's own self that the radical demands of the gospel arise. These ethical demands are not radical because of threats and promises; they are. radical because God's gift of self is at the root of divine and human existence. Whatever threats and promises there are in this model, they are not controlling. They are not the kind of threats and promises found in a dictator-slave relationship as in Model A. They are rather the very special kinds of threats and promises that inevitably accompany any genuine movement toward self-absorption and toward self donation. These kinds of threats and promises are inherent in the kind of.relationship we call agapeic love. And the more intense the love, the more it penetrates to the depths of our being, the more it is both promising and threatening at the same time. This dizzying balance of joy and dread, fulfillment and anxiety has much to do with the fact that love is so exciting. The stirrings of this kind of love are the first stirrings of hope. So in Model B, a person listens to the Word of God and is moved genuinely to wonder what is so unheard of that it is proclaimed in such a startling style. One hears that God's attitude toward us is not grounded in our performance in such a way that God simply reacts to that performance. One wonders how that can be so, since we so often find it not so in our dealings with men. In fact a person comes to anticipate that others will treat him in a way that is a manifest reaction to how he treats them. If it is so that God's ways are not man's ways, then that would be good news indeed. He hears further that God initiates and does not simply react. God so cared about men that he sent his Son; his Son so cared about them that he gave his life for them. And having given his life he still so cared about them that he sent the Spirit who would flood their hearts with so deep a care that it would flow over into the lives of others. That man Jesus, who knewGod as "my father," loved his father "no matter what." And he knew that his father loved him "no matter what," simply because he was his son. The immediacy of his father's care that daily dawned on him in, ever different ways in the face of daily different experiences was an immense wellspring of security. It was not the security that is grounded in performance: "All is well because I perform well." Indeed he performed well and his father Two Models of Christian Spirituality / 495 rejoiced in that. No, it was a security grounded in the fact that he was simply his beloved son. It was not a security stemming from a senile,~ grandfather-like care toward an immature child who can do what he feels like doing without fear, without demands made on him. No, he understood that out of that care flowed the most urgent need to do the will of his father. It was not a security that Would immunize him from loneliness and terror. He found in the desert the courage to stand alone and not throw himself down ("God will bear you up!"). He had no contract resulting in "the divine right to be taken care of." What he had was the assurance of his father's care no matter what befell him. What he had was not the as-surance that there would be only success and acclaim--no numbness of defeat, no sorrow, no pain, no indifference, no enmity, no fears, no be-trayals, no rejection, no death. But rather the assurance that even in all of the~e there was at work his father's care which was strong enough, effective enough, loyal enough to be trusted. It was a security born of love--with all that this entails. So, too, you and I hear that our Father is radically in love with us; that he is our Father as well, one who loves his sons and daughters no matter what, simply because he has set his heart on us and spoken our names. He calls us to a human life so deep that it is somehow divine. A man wonders ¯ how this can be so. But he begins to realize how when it begins to dawn on him that he is himself falling radically in love with God. He will now have to throw away all old contracts with God and learn to get along without such. In Model B the source of security for the Christian is then in the first instance the immediacy of God's care~ Because this care is not plastic, there flows from i~ the immediacy of God's demands. It is all the more intense because our very being thirsts for the living God. "Our souls were made for thee, O God, and they will not rest until they rest in thee." Thus mankind, bent on denying its own meaning while it cries out for it, encounters its sole source and destiny in this divine sel(donation. Operating under this model the possibilities are twofold, as in Model A: either my performance is poor, by whatever standards, or it is good. Here too we shall examine each of the alternatives. What If Your Performance Is Poor? If such is the case, anyone' serious about his spiritual life will be moved to change his,behavior. But the motive will not be the conviction that I am not keeping my part of the contract. Nor again will the motive be the need to escape the loneliness and terror that poor performance brings in Model A. In Model B the proper formation of conscience begins with worship; the will of God is best seen in the work of God, our redemption. It is his will that we accept wholeheartedly 'his gift of sell his fidelity and love no matter what. Am I doing God's will? This is the first place where the question must 496 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 be answered. Am I accepting his redemptive .love, his steadfast and loyal love? Note here that even in Model B there is insecurity in poor performance. The insecurity even functions at the same primordial level as the security flowing from God's steadfast love. It functions within the controlling horizon of God's saving fidelity. So the insecurity found in Model B is of a different type than in Model A. It is not founded on the false premise that God values me only for my utility. It is not the insecurity flowing from the supposed conditional nature of God's self gift. So the realization in faith that God is faithful "no matter what" eliminates the root problem central to morality in Model A. In this redemptive relationship, poor performance is simply that, poor. Surely I am sorry; I have not cared enough. And the inability by myself to care enough turns me back to the source of all care. But the poor per-formance remains. What shall I do about it? Four possible choices come to mind: i. You could change the criteria for good performance, declaring that the behavior which you thought was morally evil is in reality very good. ii. You could change the criteria for good performance, declaring that this troublesome behavior is in reality neither good nor evil but rather of no moral consequence, irrelevant to the Christian moral life. iii. You can try to change the poor performance, and fail in that effort. iv. You can try to change your poor performance, and succeed. i) and ii) The search for the truth. Let us take some examples. A mid-dle- aged religious finds herself haunted by the specter of world famine. She feels so troubled by the miseries of mankind that she cannot even enjoy a fine steak-dinner. In fact she just returned from a home visit and could hardly sit through the family Christmas dinner where the table groaned under the sheer weight of the sumptuous repast. She felt guilty for having participated in such. In fact she feels guilty about being born in such a family and in such a country where the wealth is simply "loot stolen by an imperialist, racist society." She half believes that she is stealing food from the nomads in Sahel when she drives her car. She half believes that by eating steak (which costs twenty times as much protein to produce as we get from it) instead of soybeans she is directly taking food out of the hands of Bangladesh children. The main concern and principal need of this religious is to discover the truth of the matter and that is no small undertaking. But it is surely a different undertaking than the illusive search for security for a way to appease an angry God, so characteristic of Model A. Her search is for truth and genuine value rather than simply seeking a way to eliminate guilt. To do God's will, to love effectively is a movement toward what is truly good, and not just apparently such. So one searches for what is really true and truly worthwhile because one simply, and really, wants to know, no matter Two Models of Christian Spirituality / 497 what the other consequences. There is a terrible need to find out. Such a need for truth does not guarantee results. But it does improve the odds of making better judgments about what is right and wrong. This need for the truth provides an openness which is the beginning of a self-corrective process. There are many areas of our lives where our criteria for right and wrong need ongoing revision, and sometimes even radical reversal. There are many areas of our lives where, due to misunderstanding, values are de-valued and disvalues are valued. The misunderstanding is not merely due to lack of information or education but also due to lack of love. Sexuality comes quickly to mind as an area little understood. But it is not the only, nor even the principal arena for ongoing autobiographical revision of cri-teria for right or wrong. Self donation and self-absorption, authority, and autonomy, justice and charity are much more critical. Now moved by a deep hunger for the truth, one can still make mistakes in judgment, but the felt need to be open to the truth in whatever arena (lying, stealing, world hunger, sexual behavior, and so forth) tends to countercheck our biases which predetermine the results of our investigation. iii. Lord, to whom shall we go? The third way of dealing with poor performance is to try to change our behavior, and to fail miserably in that effort. Take the case of a priest who struggles with ambition for status and higher office, with an insatiable thirst for public honors and recognition--a problem common to conservative and liberal alike. He now sees that he has lived too much of his life bartering half-truths for favors, service for ac-colades, compromise for advancement. He gave too many people lies when they asked for truth and he half convinced himself that he was helping the Church by populating her with' scoundrels and liars. But of late he has been deeply troubled by questions such as those St. Thomas More put to Sir Richard Rich, a man who bartered perjury for the post of Attorney General of Wales: "For Wales? Why, Richard, it profits a man nothing to give his soul for the whole world . But for Wales!" Like Israel as seen through the eyes of the prophet Osee, this priest had through the years pursued the desires of his own heart. His life, like the history of Israel, was a sordid and shameful story of the betrayal of Yahweh's hesed, his steadfast love. And now, try as he might, he finds himself caught in the coils of a sinful history from which he cannot extricate himself. Is there any light in the midst of his terrible darkness? Is there any radical source of hope to vanquish despair, that frightful footsoldier quar-tered in his house? "Lord, to whom shall I go?" The answer is to turn to the Lord as the source of all care, all strength, all healing. So here failure can be acknowledged for what it is yet it is not conducive to despair. With Augustine we can still say: "Late have I loved thee, O Beauty, so ancient and so new!" Perhaps most people do not experience such a massive case of failure 491~ / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 as this priest. But there is no doubt whatsoever that most people do ex-perience pernicious and persistent failure in at least one or two special areas of their lives: pride and prejudice, lying and cheating, sexual infidelity and inordinate self-seeking. In all these cases failure does not force one to turn away from an angry God but rather toward God as the radical source of all healing and care. Failure does not make you search out magic rituals of the latest psychological variety nor of the more traditional kind. (Wouldn't that be a relief and wouldn't it allow us a better chance of judging and applying the techniques of modern psychology in a more appropriate and refreshing way?) Here one realizes that God really cares no matter what; that he seeks to break the chains of our bondage and to emancipate us for a new life; that he sets out to win our hearts: "Therefore, behold, I will allure her, and bring her into the wilderness, and speak tenderly to her. And there I will give her her vineyards, and make the valley of Achor a door of hope. And there she shall answer as in the days of her youth, as at the time when she came out of the land of Egypt" (Os 2:14-15). "Lord, you can do all things; you can make me whole." This is God's purifying love. Yet it is apparently far easier for many people to believe in a god who dislikes us than in one who loves us no matter what, who seeks to bring his creation and redemption to fruition within us. The latter is far harder to believe than the mystery of the Holy Trir~ity itself. For not a few people really dislike themselves, and so they shape God to their own image. Or at best they imagine God pounding his gavel and saying at the Last Judgment: "You people on the left, there, are going to hell. You people on the right, there, are going to heaven. And I am going out to lunch because I am sick and tired of the whole business."' God, the indifferent Judge, more ~nterested in lunch than in us! The New Testament .is good news indeed, most surprising to us in the midst of our failures. If it is lived, then there need be no convulsive efforts to achieve, efforts which first direct us back to the source and font of all care. iv. I have fought the good fight and won the race. The fourth way of ' dealing with our ~erformance is to try to change our behavior and succeed in that effort. How does such success function for a person who, calling God "Father," strives to live the Christian life? What If Your Performance Is Good? Now God rejoices in man's good performance. But the Christian's se-curity does not rest in any infallible guarantee of its c6ntinuance. In this situation there is a quiet joy and a considerable desire to share one's inner peace. But there is also fearand sometimes even trembling.Yet the fear is not a neurotic anxiety of a mere performance-relationship. Rather it is a healthy respect for the inconstancy ofourhearts, not God's. One is not sure of one's continued good performance, but only sure of G0d's healing care. Two Models of Christian Spirituality / 499 The problems that plague the success of a Christian operating out of Model A (problems built into the model) are transposed by the remedies inherent to Model B: i. problems of self-righteousness ii. problems of permanent commitment iii. problems of ongoing conversion Examples come quickly to mind. i. Lord, be merciful to me, a sinner. It is not for naught that the greatest saints proclaimed themselves very great sinners. Because the source of security and strength is God's care, there is less opportunity for self-righteousness, self-sufficiency and pharisaism to enter the picture. This is because the more one loves, the more one realizes the need of the beloved. The priest who has achieved considerable success in preaching and hearing confessions realizes that God uses the weak to heal the strong, the little ones of this world to confound the proud. He tends to listen to others because God speaks in strange ways and in unexpected places. He realizes that his greatest strength lies in his very weakness. He needs a spiritual director because self-deception is an old friend. As he goes through life he realizes that every stage of age. and wisdom and grace is accompanied by new and different temptations, all of them new and none of them quite expected, thus presenting ever fresh insights into our complete and radical dependence on God. The wisest man of all is one who at the end relies only on the mercy of God and in all honesty declares himself an unprofitable servant. ii) All I know of tomorrow is that Providence will rise before the sun. For those who mistakenly ground the feasibility of permanent commitment in man's fidelity and not God's, there are only two alternatives, both equally unenlightened and unattractive. Either permanent commitment be-comes no problem at all for me because I am particularly "strong willed" and have highly developed coping techniques. In this case I tend to view all those who do not keep their commitments to be, without ex~geption, weak-kneed and callow, somehow lacking willpower. Or permanent commitment becomes an agonizing problem to be resolved best by denying even the desirability of that kind of commitment since I could only commit myself if I were sure of my future performance. But given not only my track record but also everyone's potential for change, growth and development, then permanent commitment is risky at best and ludicrously dishonest at worst. In this case those who look down on lives of broken commitments are simple souls at best or rigid elitists at worst. For those however who ground permanent commitment in God's fidel-ity, these tortuous alternatives are unnecessary. A higher viewpoint opens up. I can commit myself permanently not because I am sure of my per-formance but because I am sure that, "with God, all things are possible." 5111~ / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 This changes my whole set of expectations about the future. I expect growth and development as well as my own failures to radically affect my life--to bring unheard of dilemmas and opportunities. I'm not sure how I will react to these but I do know this about tomorrow, that Providence will rise before the sun. iii. Lord, the sea is so wide and my boat is so small. A person's good performance arising out of response to God's steadfast love often makes him experience again and anew how poor this good performance has been. This experience may make him realize his inability to love God more. Thus the need for ongoing conversion. Here again one is turned to the source and font of that care. If the source of security for the Christian is God's own self gift, then the dawning awareness of being a sinner can really be accepted without neu-rotic anxiety on one hand and without a "who-gives-a-damn" or even despair attitude on the other hand; without withdrawal from an evil world and yet with appreciation for moments of withdrawal; without convulsive efforts to achieve and yet with the most wholehearted efforts to achieve, efforts which first direct us back to the source and font of care. Then one might,find the courage to accept his shortcomings for what they are and, in the healthiest sense, strive mightily to move forward. The Christian has no need to become overly anxious about his d~epest instinctual drives which rise to the surface of his life in the forms of desires for self-aggrandizement or self-destruction. Instinctive impulses are not taboo. There is no need to live in Hesnard's I'univers morbide de lafaute. If it is true that God cares "no matter what," then the individual can recognize his instincts as both a possibility and an opportunity to be laid hold of. He can accept himself as he is--the beginning of inner freedom. He can deal with his anxieties as they arise because he is sure of God's care. And he is sure that this care is creative. Thus good performance becomes not the singular source of security but the fruit of security and a cause for rejoicing and gratitude. Perhaps he does not understand very well what performance is asked or required or called for. But he will begin where he is and do what he can, confident that some answers, however partial or tentative, will be forthcoming. So he listens, is attentive, is alert to them, is open. Once we are aware of the graciousness of God's concern, we become aware too that we will grow in further recognition of values. The choice between Model A and Model B is a clear one. Model B takes its stand with the New Testament. Where do you take yours? Community Living: Some Options Barbara Hazzard, S.N.J.M. Sister Barbara is the principa, l of Holy Spirit Elementary School in Fremont. She offers spiritual guidance and, for the past five years, has been directing retreats and has been on the summer staff of the Jesuit Retreat House, Los Altos. She resides at 3930 Parish Avenue; Fremont, CA 94536. " During the past few years, my concern about community life has become acute. Being a spiritual director and retreat guide for sisters of many dif-ferent communities has made me very aware of the problems which exist in community life today. The greatest problem seems to be the indifference or fear which members of a group have with regard to helping one another lead a deeply Christian life. There are all .kinds of things which can and do serve as anesthetics against this problem: overwork, socializing, formal religious exercises, meetings, professional commitments, family commit-ments, television--and time passes on, and the frustration grows. The following remarks are one person's perception of a need, and one way of dealing with that need. They arise out bf my faith in and hope for the future of religious life--in gratitude to the religious who have shared a similar faith and hope with me. An active, in opposition to contemplative, religious congregation is founded primarily to fulfill a need of the times; i.e., caring for the poor, caring for the sick, instructing the ignorant, and so forth. A religious con-gregation is a group of people who come together to live out the gospel with a certain emphasis on a particular facet of the gospel message. The under-lying purpose of coming together is twofold: to support and encourage one another in living a faith life, and to work together to proclaim the gospel to others. The first part, the support and encouragement of one another in 501 51~2 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 living a faith life, remains constant. It should become deeper and richer as the group grows in faith. The second part, the particular work of the group, is subject to change as the needs of the times shift. The concern here regards the first part of our purpose. Our pragmatic, materialistic culture has not left religious communities untouched. Most active congregations in the United States live on the level of the upper middle class. They do not want materially for much. This is not a reflection on individuals, but rather a reflection on the life-style and image which organized religious groups live and project in today's world--and on the need to look at that life-style and image. Does the nourishment of our faith-life in fact vivify our witness of the gospel, or are we a group of educated, efficient people running institutions with only a "flavor" of Christianity? Are the demands of the gospel too risky? Do we hide behind "prudence" and "practicality" as an excuse for not living our beliefs more radically? The values of Jesus seem contradictory to the values of some of his followers. He led a poor life, dependent on his Father and those around him. He was not identified with aspecific "cause" of his time, yet dealt with the problems at hand. Much of his ~problem" concerned organized religion and its ministers, those who were more concerned with the letter than with the spirit, who said one thing and did another. If Jesus were to walk this earth today, he would most likely have a similar experience. Jesus' only desire was to do whatever it was his Father wanted of him. He often sought time for prayer, alone and with his disciples, in order to know his Father's will. How often do .members of religious orders come together today in prayer specifically to know the Father's will for them, being open and ready to accept whatever that may be? There is always time for chapters, com-mittee meetings, renewal meetings, and more. Where is the time for cor-porate prayer? And how many would come if the time were provided? Is there a fear of the changes that might reveal "the Father's will"? The words uttered by so many religious today are phrases like: "I'm not surewhat we are about any more." "'I'm so tired most of.the time I can't pray.' . I feel as though I live in a boarding house. What kind of~:ommunity life do we have?" There are no simple answers. But such statements must be heard as symptoms of a condition which needs to be treated. What is necessary in order to begin the process? The primary condition is a willingness to change on the part of the individual religious, a will-ingness to say, "I am willing to try a different life-style or to adjust my life-style-- and to risk failure in trying--in order to improve the quality of my life." Time is needed, which means curtailing other commitments, to pray, to talk, to listen, to plan, not in the context of a chapter, but by coming together in small groups, for those who are willing. A clarification of val.ues is necessary. For some, the priority is the apostolate which feeds their Community Living: Some Options prayer, and their community life. For others, the priority is prayer which nourishes both community and apostolate. For still others, community life nurtures prayer and the apostolate. Certainly prayer, community life, and the apostolate are not separate entities. All three should flow together, but the emphasis will vary according to the movement of the Spirit within the ¯ person. Which emphasis? This is where, in honesty, individuals must recognize a need in them-selves and choose one of these emphases. This does not mean that only people who think alike should form local communities, but that those who live together should have a common value-base on which community life may build. The types of support needed by individuals vary. It does not have to be the same in every living situation, but it has to exist in some form in each local community if community life is going to be something more than a glorified sorority or fraternity. Pluralism seems to be the angle from which life in active communities is being re-thought. The above suggestion is a form of pluralism in life-style. Yes, this will create tension. But does not tension already exist in the living of religious life--a tension which is not always growth producing? Religious cannot use the excuse of "obedience" as a reason for what does or does not happen in a religious congregation. Each one is responsible for the quality of life within the community, and cannot let others bear the burden of that responsibility without himself becoming involved. This is a danger, especially in large, congregation.s. There are many discontented religious, discontented in the sense of looking for something more in religious life, a challenge, a way of life that is more meaningful. Just being identified with a large institution is not meaningful or necessarily religious in the sense of living and/or proclaiming the gospel message effectively. This is not to suggest a way of life that is inbred, but rather a means of nurturing the spiritual life in a way that will help to make the apostolate more joyful and perhaps more fruitful. It is a way of giving a support, encouragement, and real Christian freedom cen-tered on the gospel and a communal experience of helping each other to grow into the fullness which is Christ. 504 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 To initiate this process, two or three people who feel comfortable with one another might come together and, after some time taken for reflection, answer the following questions: 1) Why (have I come) am I still in religious life? 2) In which area have I channeled my energy (or let it be channeled) over the last 3, 5, 10, 15 years (prayer, community, apostolate)? 3) What experiences in religious life have freed me to be who God wants me to be--before him, with my confreres, in my apostolate? 4) What has impeded my ability to respond to what I feel the Spirit has asked of me? 5) If I am really honest, what ~teps do I need to take in order to align my life more closely with gospel values? Sharing one's thoughts and feelings about these questions, or others in a similar vein, will begin to help the individual to see the direction God is leading him or her in a communal effort to deepen one's living out of religious life. This paper has only made a small dent in the problem; but, hopefully, some who read it will be creative in finding other ways to begin to act. I would be grateful to have some practical suggestions, ways of im-plementing what. has been suggested in these pages. Perhaps there could follow an article incorporating these practical suggestions at a later date. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS HAS MOVED! As of June 19, the editorial office of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS has relocated from its Grand Boulevard location to its new address: Review for Religious Room 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, MO 63108 Monastic Spirituality in Anglicanism Bede Thomas Mudge, O.H.C. Father Mudge is novice master for his Anglican community, the Order of the Holy Cross. He resides in Holy Cross Monastery; West Park, NY 12493. The Protestant Reformers of the sixteenth century embarked on what they considered to be a radical "renewal" process on behalf of the Church, a process which is not without some parallels to the renewal of contemporary Christianity. Before their energy had spent itself, the Reformers called into qupstion nearly every important institution of European Christianity, and demanded searching, justification, and often, change or abolition. Any institution or custom that was judged to be valueless or hurtful from the point of view of reformed theology was thoroughly rooted out. Among the casualties of this rooting-out were the religious commu-nities. The reasons for their abolition were usually stated in theological or social categories, the most frequently quoted being an abhorrence of cel-ibacy as "unnatural," and a dislike of any lifelong vow other than that of marriage. But there were other, not quite so noble reasons, as well. Many of the religious communitieg were conservative and anything but welcom-ing to the "New Theology," and so served as centers of resistance to the Reformation. In addition, the great wealth of some of them was a scandal to the Reformers, and a temptation to the keepers of government coffers. In every territory where the Reformers' theology gained ascendancy, an intense campaign was launched against the monasteries and conventg, in which the State usually lent its coercive power to the Reformers' fervor. In a remarkably short time, the communities were disbanded, their members 505 506 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 dispersed, and monasticism as an institution ceased to exist in the Re-formed churches) But, alone of the Reformation bodies, Anglicanism never rested easy with the absence of religious orders in its structure. Almost from the time when the Reformation struggle began to quiet, there were voices raised in defense of the reestablishment of religious communities in England, and various public and private proposals were made and discussed. In the seventeenth century an extraordinary community experiment was actually begun by Nicholas Ferrar at LittleGidding, which has exercised a great fascination for Anglicans ever since. Nicholas, together with his extended family, established a quasi-monastic community in which a form of Office was observed that involved the recitation of the entire Psalter twice each day, and a vigorous social apostolate was maintained in the neighborhood. The community did not survive Nicholas' death, however, and suspicion, and anti-Roman prejudice, made it necessary for the reestablishment of traditional monastic com.munities in Anglicanism to wait until the mid-nineteenth century. Even then, religious communities were not established easily or without trials. Persecution, slander and occasional imprisonment rewarded those who dared to import "Romish" doctrines.or institutions into the Church of England, and many of the early experiments in com-munity life had quietness and obscurity forced on them as the price of their survival. But some of the founders did persevere, and eventually their communities grew, and even prospered. In the century and a quarter that have.passed since the reestablishment of religious comriiunities in Anglicanism, these communities have spread and become an accepted part of the Anglican Church scene. Though not numerous nor particularly large by Roman Catholic standards, the Anglican communities have nevertheless been influential, particularly in matters re-lating to the ~piritual life and to social concern. Though it is still not unusual to find people, both outside and inside the Anglican Church, who are only vaguely aware that "there are Episcopal nuns," the communities have gradually gained~ the trust and affection of their Church at large, and are now welcomed and encouraged, whereas at their inception, rejection and persecution were more normal reactions.2 The Spirituality of Anglicanism Any discussion of spirituality in Anglican .religious communities must necessarily take place in the context of the general spirituality of Angli-tThe sixteenth century was, to be sure, a period of low ebb in community life. Very few of the dispersed religious chose to flee to a Catholic territory where they could continue their life. They appear mostly to have settled down quietly, often supported by a government pension, and often they marred. The Carthusian martyrs of London were as remarkable for the rarity of their example, as for their fervor. 2An excellent historical summary of this'period, and histories of the foundations of the various communities can be found in Peter Anson, The Call of the Cloister, SPCK, 1956. Monastic Spirituality in Anglicanism / 507 canism. But, in turn, it would not be possible to speak of Anglican spir-ituality without speaking of monasticism, because Anglican piety, depends heavily on the pre-Reformation monastic influence in England, and par-ticularly that of the Benedictine communities. It has been said that Ben-edictinism influenced English society to a greater extent than was true anywhere else in Europe. England was converted, in large part, by Ben-edictine monks. Its principal schools were operated byBenedictines, its cathedrals and principal churches were largely Benedictine foundations, and Benedictines were widely influential in the government. The Cistercian reform of Benedictinism was also influential in England, and its monasteries large and popular) The influence of the Benedictine tradition was part of the air that every medieval English person breathed. From one's earliest years, through education and into whatever station in life a person be-longed, the influence of the Abbey or Priory was never far away. And this influence was nowhere more pervasive than in the piety of the English people.4 The monastic offices and masses were commonly attended by the public; monastic spirituality was respected; and abbot and monk were part of the common scene, and likely to be respected or even beloved. Though definite Augustinian and Franciscan strains can be discerned in historic Anglican devotion, the example and influence of the Benedictine mon-astery, with its rhythm of divine office and eucharist, the tradition of learn-ing and the lectio divina, and the family relationship among abbot and community were determinative for much English life, and for the pattern of English devotion. This devotional pattern persevered through the spiritual and theological upheavals of the Reformation. The Book of Common Prayer, which was composed during the course of the Reformation, and has been the primary spiritual source-book for Anglicans ever since, continued the basic mo-nastic pattern of the eucharist and the divine office as the principal public forms of worship, and Anglicanism has been unique in this respect. Con-tinental Catholicism developed a devotional pattern centered around the eucharist, with extra-liturgical devotions such as the rosary and benediction filling the needs of most laymen. The office was, in most places, considered the business of the clergy and religious, and since, in its full canonical form, it could only be recited in Latin, it tended to disappear from popular use, except in some of the forms of a "Little Office." Protestantism developed, in most places, a worship pattern that included .very infrequent celebrations of the eucharist, as it was a Reformation principal that the eucharist should. not be celebrated unless the congregation received communion, and most aCudously enough, the purely English communities, such as the Gilbertines, while they did exist, never attained anything like the popularity of the communities which observed the Benedictine Rule. 4This influence of monastic spirituality on Anglican devotion is fully discussed in Martin Thornton, English Spirituality, SPCK, 1963. 5011 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 laymen of the time could not be persuaded to receive frequently. The worship pattern that developed was either a truncated form of the mass, as in Lutheranism, or a more informal worship service, retaining some ele-ments of the office, and supplemented by meetings for free prayer. In England alone it was the divine office that came to occupy a central de-votional position. This development was a direct carry-over from the days in which many people had attended celebrations of the office at the local abbey or priory, particularly Lauds and Vespers. But it owed much of its success to the liturgical genius of Thomas Cranmer, who in his compilation of the offices of Morning Prayer and Evensong produced what Louis Bouyer has referred to as "one of the purest forms of Christian common prayer to be found anywhere in the world."5 The devotion of Anglicans to the office has continued up to the present time. In some parish churches, though admittedly not all by any means, the office is recitedmorning and evening each day, as the Book of Common Prayer has traditionally re-quired. In some places, it is still the principal service of worship on Sun-days, and when groups of Anglicans gather, whether clergy or lay, whether for worship, business or social purposes, it is not unusual to begin the gathering with the recitation of Morning or Evening Prayer.6 The framework supplied by eucharist and office was supplemented, in Anglicanism, by an informal sort of lectio divina, characterized by a de-votion to the reading and pondering of the scriptures and other dex, otional material. When English editions of the Bible first began appearing in parish churches it was often necessary to chain them to the wall or lectern, to prevent people from stealing them for their own use. Later, when the spread of the printing press made the scriptures more available, there was also an extraordinary development of spiritual writing by men such as Jeremy Taylor and William Law, characterized by biblical and patristic inspiration and warm human feeling, and these works were widely circu-lated and read. There is also a deep current of devotion to the writings of the Church Fathers in Anglicanism.It is an Anglican maxim that Anglicans refer to the Fathers in the same way that Roman Catholics refer to the Pope, and Protestants to the Bible. A large proportion of English editions of patristic writings has historically been the work of Anglican editors. There has also been found in traditional Anglican piety, a distinct strain of "homeliness," as it is sometidaes called. A warm, tolerant, human de-votion based on loving persuasion, rather than fiery oratory is part of the Anglican temper. Historically, the Anglican clergy, being family men them-selves, have been very much part of the domestic scene in the villages and 5Louis Bouyer, Liturgical Piety, Notre Dame, 1955, p. 47. 6This is somewhat less common at the present, as under the influence of liturgical r~form, more frequent celebrations of the eucharist are being held, and often supplant the office. But it is worth noting that many Anglicans, including those most eager to center worship around the eucharist, are still uneasy at the loss of the office as a popular form of devotion. Monastic Spirituality in Anglicanism / 51)9 parishes where they served, and have often been loved as well as revered. The Anglican liturgical calendar has more commemorations of faithful pas-tors, such as George Herbert, than of fiery missionaries, and even Anglican martyrs have commonly been of gentle disposition. Anglicanism has always been more attracted by the image of the Church as family, rather than militia, and the similarity evoked to a community of monks, living as a family, under an abbot who leads them as a father, is far from accidental. There is little extravagance in the English temper, and Anglican de-votion is usually characterized by a basic simplicity and directness that shun~ much of the emotionalism and the devotional frills of post-Refor-mation continental piety. In this, the English temper ~naturaily joins hands with the emphasis on biblical centrality that was a chief Reformation prin-ciple~ There is devotion to the Blessed Sacrament and to the saints in Anglicanism, but it is most often drawn from a scriptural and patristic outlook, with an emphasis on simplicity and emotional understatement, and later devotions have had small appeal for Anglicans. Thus, the pattern of Anglican devotion which developed was a modified form of monastic piety; the celebration of the eucharist (though sometimes quite infrequently),7 the regular recitation of the Psalter and proclamation of the scriptures in the office, fleshed out by private pondering of the Bible, the Fathers and other devotional writings, usually of a sober and gentle style. The Restoration of Monasticism The founding of specifically monastic communities in the Church of England began in the middle of the nineteenth century, shortly after the commencement of the "Oxford Movement," whose proponents wished to restore elements of Catholic belief and worship to the Anglican Church. Several communities for women were founded in the 1850's and 1860's, after some faltering starts, and the first lasting community for men followed shortly thereafter. The first communities lived under the suspicious eyes of a public still steeped in anti:papalism, and so the beginnings were cautious and semi,private. Little publicity attended the foundings of the commu-nities, and the public stir raised by even a little publicity was considerable. Against this background, it is not surprising that the first communities went out of their way to justify their existence by a great devotion to works of charity. Social work with the poor, the operation of "penitentiaries" for wayward women, and nursing were favorite occupations, and among the nursing sisters that Florence Nightingale took with her in her famous mis-sion to the Crimea were several sisters of the newly-founded (Anglican) 71n the eighteenth century faith and devotion fell to a very low ebb, and it is related that there was no eucharist on Easter Day in St. Paul's Cathedral in London one year, because the Prayer Book requires that at least two or three members of the congregation receive communion, if there is to be a celebration, and that many communicants could not be found. 510 / Review for Religious,,Volume 37, 1978/4 Society of the Holy Trinity. The often heroic work accomplished by the first members of the communities in slums and with people in desperate con-ditions did much to allay suspicion, and to create an atmosphere of tol-erance for their existence, if not of actual devotion to them. But while the works of the early communities were important and needed, it was the spiritual and communal life which drew applicants, and in this atmosphere the basically monastic pattern of Anglican spirituality, which had survived three centuries after the Reformation, had its inevitable effect. No matter how active the apostolate of the community, thecor-porate recitation of a full form of the office was present in all of the com-munities from the very start,8as was the cultivation of a personal devotional life which was more characteristic of cloistered communities in Roman Catholicism. It is an unusual Anglican community which has not had as part of its tradition the singing of the office to the plainsong melodies, a good deal of corporate silence, and a tradition of the cultivation of an intense devotional life, based on scriptural and patristic sources. The traditional emphasis on monastic learning and writing also appeared, even in very active communities, and a sizeable number of works on prayer and spiritual direction have been produced, which is all the more remarkable considering the relatively small number of Anglican. religious. Nor is it unusual for Anglican laymen to expect that any member of any community will be able to speak about prayer and give spiritual direction. It should also be noted that, with no experience of monasticism closer than three hundred years, and with the traditional freedom of Anglicanism, some of the early experiments in the monastic life were distinctly unfor-tunate. Some were merely bizarre, such as in the excesses of Fr. Ignatius' Benedictines of Llanthony in Wales, .or the Benedictines of Caldey Island, who attempted to recreate a wildly romanticized version of a medieval abbey, but some were unwise in other ways. The combination of heavy and demanding work, coupled with the expectation of full participation in choir and in long hours of prayer with a sometimes rigorous asceticism taught several communities the lesson of moderation the hard way. But such mistakes were largely unavoidable. Few bishops would have anything to do with the developing communities, for fear of being labeled "Romanist," and the ecumenical movement was far in the future, so the only advice to be gained from Roman Catholic religious was: "convert!" Experienced guidance was simply unavailable. The lessons of the Desert Fathers and of medieval monasticism had to be learned again, by experiment, in nine-teenth century England. But in spite of mistakes and misjudgments, the monastic experiment in Anglicanism took root, prospered and spread. There are now a large num-ber of communities in England, and others in former English colonies, as SUsually an English translation of the Roman Breviary. Monastic Spirituality in Anglicanism well oaS indigenous communities in Africa, the Far East and the South Pacific. !n the American Episcopal Church there are approximately twenty communities, about two-thirds of them for women. With time came not only numerical growth, but also a gradual acceptance by the mainstream of the Church, and with this acceptance a freedom to adopt usages and customs to taste. But whereas it might have been expected that this freedom would lead to a divergence of types of religious life, the pattern has, in fact, remained surprisingly consistent and true to traditional mo-nastic roots. Anglicanism has not, to this time at least, developed "active" com-munities, and the expressions of the religious life that presently attract the largest numbers in the Roman Catholic Church are completely absent from the Anglican scene. There arena few cloistered orders for men and for women, but the majority of the communities are classified as "mixed" in the traditional terminology. All have a tradition of a corporate Office, often an English translation of the Benedictine breviary, and the office is com-monly sung to plainsong where the numbers permit it.9 All have a deep commitment to the life of prayer, and have developed timetables and physical surroundings that enabled them to foster this prayer. A family style of government usually prevails, with a superior who is elected by all of the professed members, and a chapter that usually consists of all of the mem-bers of the community. This has been possible because of the small size of most of the communities. Anglican communities have never grown in num-bers beYond about four to five hundred, and the vast majority have had less than fifty professed at any one time. The family ethos has been carried over into the apostolate of the community, which has nearly always been carried out in a community context, and rarely by individuals outside the com-munity. But a wide latitude has usually been available inside the family context, with individuals often encouraged to develop their own talents and abilities. It may be objected that the absence of the figure of the abbot or abbess would make it difficult to classify a community as "Benedictine." Most Anglican communities do, in fact, have a regularly elected "superior," with a limited term of office, and not much of the mystique of abb, atial dignity. The Anglican. communities would, admittedly, need to be classified as a hybrid form of Benedictinism on this a~count. But it is also true that ~he size ¯ of most Anglican communities, together~ with their traditional family ethos, have conspired to make the superior much more of a "mother" or "father" than an executive. We can also note that a limited term of office is more and more characteristic even of abbots in the Roman Catholic communities 9It is sometimes surprising to Roman Catholics how few may be "required." If they have good voices (and sometimes if they don't) a house composed of three or four Anglican religious will sombtimes maintain a full sung office. 512 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 these days. The title of Anglican superiors has usually not been "abbot," but the reality is often not far removed from the traditional abba. The pattern of community life that has been described has had one development that came as a surprise to many of the early religious, and runs counter to the .historical development of western monasticism. The first religious in the west were contemplatives, with active communities de-veloping only later. In Anglicanism, the first communities were forced to be active in order to justify themselves, but always maintained as much touch with the monastic tradition as circumstances allowed. With such an im-petus, some of the religious quickly developed contemplative vocations, and the communities eventually responded by making room in their struc-ture for living ,such ,vocations, after suitable testing. More than this, several entire omr~nities have gradually been called to an exclusively contem-plative vo.cation after° a very active beginning. The Society of the Holy Trinity, ".the Sisters of the Precious Blood, and the Community of the Holy Cross, all .English women'.s communities, had very active beginnings, with demanding social apostolates, and all have given up most of their external works and become .contemplative communities. Side by side with this de-velopment, there have been several attempts through the yeffrs to establish traditionally "Benedictine" ,communities, properly so-called, and several of these attempts have been successful. There are, of course, exceptions to the pattern outlined, as for instance, the sizeable Society of St. Francis, and the Community of the Glorious Ascens!on, which is based on a model roughly similar to the Little Brothers of Jesus. But these are more recent developments, and have necessarily .bee6 ch~ aracterized by a certain self-.consciousness about their ethos, which has, served as a battlement against the tides that have swept most Anglican religious communities into a remark.ably similar pattern and style. Cow,temporary Renewal It is obvious from this analysis that the history of religious life in the ~.n.glican Church has several marked differences to that in the Roman C,a.tholic communion. Anglican com~.unities are of relatively recent date, .and many of them have older members who are within memory, or at least within one gbneration, of their foundin, g. Having often begun on an active pattern, the communities have grad~a,!!y developed a more traditionally monastic life, and this has been done as .the result of a consensus of the members 9f the community. The offiC.~'~ habit, times of silence and such, have been deliberately chosen, often against a background of some per- .secution. This necessarily means that'ii~e pattern of renewal in Anglican communities has been quite different from most Roman Catholic com-munities. Since Anglican communities are reasonab.ly close, historically, to the decisions that formed the pattern of their. !ife, and since these decisions Monastic Spirituality in Anglicanism / 513 have usually been made by consensus of the community, there has been little reason to view the details of their lives as imposed by an outside authority. In addition, the religious orders have never been seen as a pri-mary source of personnel for social or missionary work. Anyone whose real calling is to a social ministry or a missionary vocation has always had many other options in the Anglican framework, and few people have entered the communities without some leaning, at least, toward monastic observances. This has caused the outward forms of .the recent renewal to appear con-servative by Roman Catholic standards. Though members of the men's communities have, on occasion, worn secular clothing for some years, all of them retain their habit at least for corporate worship and for formal occasions. Among the women's communities habits have usually been modified only slightly, if at all, and the number of women religious who regularly wear secular dress is very small. The office continues to be said by all communities, and if four offices a day rather than seven o~' eight is becoming a common pattern, they are often quite traditional in form, and continue to be sung to plainsong. A wider variety of work or ministry is often now available, but many of the traditional works continue, and some of the communities are moving, if anything, in a more contemplative di-rection. Anglican religious have, for the most part, deliberately chosen the observances of traditional monasticism, and are not eager to be rid of them. But it would be a mistake to assume, since renewal has not changed Anglican communities much externally, that their reform has been shallow. In many communities there has been a deep and searching process of change in the spirit that lay behind the observances. This has occurred, not surprisingly, in a direction dictated by the tradition that lies behind most Anglican communities. The. urge towards deeper and more authentic prayer has already been alluded to. There has also been a movement toward the deepening of the "family" ethos which has always been the ideal. Various structures of behavior, largely from the Victorian era (when many of our communities were founded) have been laid aside, and an emphasis on human relationships, the possibility of deep friendships, and an increasing emphasis on government by consensus have been common. Above all, there has been a struggle to advance the priority of the human element over legalistic requirement. In addition, Anglican communities have often been the centers of creative change in the liturgical field as well, and, while their experiments may seem somewhat conservative in comparison to similar situations in Roman Catholic communities, they have not infrequently been quite advanced by the standards of an ordinary Anglican or Episcopal parish. There has been at least one additional change in the past decades that is more difficult to chart or document, but it is of great importance to Anglican religious. A growing sense of'confidence in their own identity has gradually made itself felt. Born without parents, so to speak, Anglican 514 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 communities had to develop with little outside advice and no Anglican tradition to guide them, and all of this in an era when "doing it right" was very important. Anglican~ engaged in the founding of religious communities were surrounded by fellow Anglicans, on the one side, screaming "heresy," and by Roman Catholics, on the other, accusing them of being inauthentic imitations of no consequence; and the accusations were some-times, at least, half believed. This caused the adoption of many curious and sometimes inauthentic customs because "the Romans are doing it." But a century and a quarter of maturing, and the recent currents of change have brought relief from the concept that there was only one way to be correctly religious. A feeling of solidity and authenticity is beginning to pervade Anglican communities, where before there was some glancing over the shoulder to see if we were still doing it correctly. The history of religious communities in Anglicanism has been different from Roman Catholic com-munities; their problems have been different, and so the course of their renewal has been different, as will be their future form. Anglican com-munities have been called by God to serve a Church which is characterized by conservative liturgies, a deep sense of the awe and mystery of worship, and great freedom in doctrinal and social matters. The communities reflect this pattern, as they must, if they are to be authentic servants in the An-glican communion. "You're Benedictine, of course" Not infrequently these days, Anglican religious are invited to meetings of Roman Catholic religious, and often asked to describe their community. Normally the reply is that there is no exact counterpart to our life in the Roman Catholic Church, but that we have found our own expression of the religious life. But when asked to describe that expression in detail, it is interesting to note how often the reply is: "Oh, you're Benedictine, of course." Though only a few of our communities have sought to identify themselves as Benedictines or even tried consciously to imitate a Bene-dictine pattern, this reaction can hardly be a surprise. From their inception, Anglican communities have operated under the influence of a devotional pattern that took its'inspiration from Benedictine and Cistercian ab-beysmthe pattern of a family, deeply united by prayer and the liturgy, pondering the scriptures and other writings, and overflowing from its de-votional life in a gentle, caring ministry to those around them. It is a pattern that has been inherited fi:om a nation whose monks, scholars, teachers, historians, rulers, missionaries and martyrs were often either Benedictines themselves or under direct Benedictine influence, and the pattern has proved surprisingly stable, through the changes and reforms of several generations:' The pattern which Pope Gregory the Great hoped to plant in England when, in the seventh century, he sent. Augustine to Canterbury to convert the English people still perseveres, not only in England, but in large Monastic Spirituality in Anglicanism / 515 parts of the world. And this pattern, to which the name "Benedictine" is often given, has proved sturdy enough that it served as the model and guide for religious life when it was revived after three hundred years of absence in Anglicanism. Reeds The wind is voiceless until it finds an instrument: the long-drawn sough and sigh of conifers the maples" glee the oaks" deep diapason untutored symphony. I stood apart to hear them all together: acaccia sprinkled bells upon the air and chaliced elms' glad notes all spilling exultant as the skylark's trilling The beech clapped drily cadence keeping Only my song was still. The Spirit came in wind, then, (I had long known .the fire fed by the oils of my anointing) I listened there upon the hillside: "'Peace," said the wind upon me Peace unto all whom I meet "Peace," and the winds grew quiet "Peace! I am with you-- Know my peace." Mary R. Quinn 1201 Canton Ave. Baltimore, MD 21227 Compassion: A Spirituality for Today M. Corita Clarke, R.D.C. Sister Corita, a Sister of the Divine Compassion, is Chairperson of the Religious Studies Department of Preston High School. She resides at the school; 2780 Schurz Ave.; Bronx, NY ! 0465. ~nterest, concern, even fascination for the quest for a viable personal spirituality is as old as the history of primitive religions and as contem-porary as today's newspaper. To some persons the renewed interest in spirituality in this decade of the twentieth century seems an anachronism or a fad. Yet even a cursory study of the experience of people today, whether viewed through the eyes of the historian, the psychologist or the theologian, indicates that the phenomenon of such a renewal is a very natural devel-opment. Both an older generation which has survived the effects of worldwide wars, nuclear holocausts, genocide attempts and concentration camp realities, and a younger generation which has grown up in the more affluent yet tension-ridden, de-personalized milieu of the computerized world of technopolis, are responding to their deepest human yearnings in their search for a spiritual dimension to their lives. Centuries ago St. Augustine shared the insight that "God is always more." I think that the conviction born of human experience and the Judaeo-Christian revelation is that "so is man, always more," called to become, to grow, to move beyond wherever he is, to realize his human potential--also for intimacy with the divine! Spirituality is concerned with this search for the transcendent dimension to life both beyond and within the person, and with the mode of living which flows from its apprehension. We have the capacity ~to live a "spiritual" life because as human persons we possess an inner spirit which is the principle of our conscious life and 516 Compassion: A Spirituality for Today / 517 the source of our integration as persons. Through this spirit we are capable of an intuition of the transcendent, of a reflective awareness of ourselves and of a depth dimension within ourselves, and are conscious of our ability for self-transcendence. In our Christian experience spirituality flows from an awareness of the Spirit of God within us, and our spiritual life is a lived response to this Spirit within, in an attempt to facilitate or mediate the further presence of that Spirit of God in the world. It is my conviction that the basis for a relevant Christian spirituality for today is to be found in a clear understanding of the quality of compassion. It will be within the scope of this paper to look at compassion from various angles in order to see the richness contained in this human virtue and to realize more clearly its relation to our experience of transcendence and our challenge to live our spirituality as compassionate persons. The Experience of Transcendence Any attempt to elaborate a contemporary spirituality comes up against the enduring tension between transcendence and immanence, between that which calls us beyond and that which cries out for recognition in the here and now. I would like first to strive for a greater clarity in our understanding of the category of the transcendent, and then proceed to an analysis of compassion as providing the key to reconciling these seeming antinomies. James Fowler has defined faith as "the knowing or construing by which persons apprehend themselves as related to the Transcendent.''~ For Fowler, the Transcendent is the ultimate condition of existence, the Being we have in religious faith called God, and a person's relationship to the Transcendent involves power, limitations, and the sources of value and meaning of existence. In the Judaeo-Christian religious tradition this has involved a personal relationship to a God whose presence has been ex-perienced by individuals and by the community. In addition to this specific religious terminology, the adjective transcendent and the noun transcen-dence have wide usage in a more secular sense. Abraham Maslow has given thirty five definitions or explanations of transcendence which can be sum-marized in his statement that transcendence."refers to the very highest and most inclusive or holistic levels of human consciousness, behaving and relating, as ends rather than as means, to oneself, to significant others, to human beings in general, to other species, to nature, and to the cosmos.''z And even here, in those who can experience such full humanness, those whom Maslow calls "transcenders," there is the "ability to perceive the ~James W. Fowler III, "Toward A Developmental Perspective on Faith," Religious Ed-ucation, LXIX (March-April, 1974), p. 207. ZAbraham Maslow, The Farther Reaches of Human Nature (New York, Viking Press, 1971), p. 275. 511~ / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 sacred within the secular, or the sacredness in all things at the same time, ,,3 Within this notion of transcendence are all those movements, experiences or realities which beckon persons on, which disturb complacency and call us beyond, which alert us to the "more" in human life and our own personal existence, which sociologist Peter Berger has called "hints" or "signals" of the Transcendent,4 and which are the source of~Augustine's "restless-ness" of heart. When the noun transcendence becomes converted to a verb, we have also the notion of self-transcendence, that movement of a person beyond self-interest or concern because of a focus on another~person, an ideal or a goal. In its richest manifestations, self-transcendence is an act of love, the highest form of human activity. Viktor Frankl has written that "Human existence is essentially self-transcendence not self-actualization,''s and contemporary psychology b~ars witness to this capacity for self-sacrifice as an essential norm of full human maturity. We will return to this aspect of self-transcendence in our treatment of compassion. When a person becomes aware of the transcendent dimension of life, and especially when that awareness leads to the Transcendent God, the result is, in the words of Abraham Heschel, awe. Awe is a sense for the transcendence, for the reference everywhere to mystery beyond all things. It enables us to perceive in the world intimations of the divine, to sense in small things the beginning of infiniti~ significance, to sense the ultimate in the common and the simple; to feel in the rush of the passing the stillness of the eternal.6 For Heschel, faith is, as it is for Fowler, an attachment to the Trans-cendent, to the attractiveness of a God Who hides himself in mystery. Yet ¯ the biblical revelation tells us that beyond all mystery is meaning. "God is neither plain meaning nor just mystery. God is meaning that transcends mystery . meaning that speaks through mystery.''7 When the God who is, by the very nature of his being, Transcendent, attempts to speak through mystery and reaches out into the realm of human experience, we speak of tiis becoming immanent to us, to his creation. How does this mystery express itself?. Heschel says it is the destiny of human persons "to articulate what is concealed. The divine seeks to be disclosed in the human."s In our discussion of spirituality we have stated that our spirituality flows aIbid., p. 283. 4Peter L. Berger, A Rumor of Angels (New York, Doubleday, 1969). ~Viktor Frankl, Man's Search for Meaning (New York, Washington Square Press, 1963), p. 175. 6Abraham J. Heschel, Who Is Man? (Stanford, California, Stanford University Press, 1969), p. 89. 71bid., p. 77. 6Ibid., p. 77. Compassion: A Spirituality for Today / 519 from our apprehension of the divine, of the Spirit within and 'without, and is our mode of living which attempts to incarnate the presence of God. It is precisely in this understanding of God which we discern from the biblical revelation, and in the consequent imperatives for our Christian life, that I believe an understanding of compassion plays such a central role. It is my conviction that the divine (the Transcendent) has revealed itself as com-passion, and that therefore the human discloses the divine through a spirituality that is founded on compassion. While subsequently I will de-lineate our experience and exercise of compassion as an expression of spirituality, I would like first to examine compassion as formative of our spirituality through an analysis of the divine compassion. Human com-passion and divine compassion are not dichotomies nor polarities, they are rather reciprocal concepts. There is only one real source of compassion and that is God's compassion. As Henri Nouwen has reminded us, "Our com-passion is nothing more or less than a participation in and a reflection of this divine compassion,''9 The Divine Compassion: The Bridge In his penetrating study, The Prophets,1° Abraham Heschel analyzes with depth and clarity the Old Testament revelation of the divine pathos, which he sees as the bridge between the transcendence and mystery of God and Israel's grasp of his love. For the Israelite, pathos is the expression of the attitude of attentive care and concern of God for his people. When Moses asked Yahweh his name, he received the reply, 'Yahweh, Yahweh, a God of tenderness and compassion" (Ex 34:5-6). In a recent issue of Spiritual Life, Kevin O'Shea suggests "that the divine nature is Com-passion, that God is to be defined by the heart of tenderness he has opened out tb us."11 This portrayal of Israel's God as a God of Pathos (the opposite - of apathy) is in sharp contrast to the gods of other nations of their t!me, who were distant (like the god of the philosophers), or impersonal, or presented as having human limitations such as jealousy and vindictiveness. The ex-pression of Yahweh's compassion was not mere feeling or emotion on the part of God, but was displayed in his active reaching out toward Israel--a God "in search of man.''~ The initial experience of Yahweh's concern was the covenant, which not only manifested God's mercy and great love, but also challenged Israel to grow as God's people through her response to his love. When Israel faltered or failed in her fidelity, the divine pathos re-vealed itself in anger and correction. In Heschel's words, God's "pathos is 9Henri Nouwen, "Compassion: The Core of Spiritual Leadership," Worship Jubilee (January, 1977), p. 21. 10Abraham Heschel, The Prophets (Vol. II) (New York, Harper & Row, 1975). nKevin O'Shea, C.SS.R., "Enigma and Tenderness," Spiritual Life, 21 (Spring, 1975), p. 18. 590 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 both a disclosure of his concern and a concealment of his power."12 The mission of the prophet in Israel was to articulate the nature and extent of the divine pathos, and to call the people to live the reality of their election. It was through his privileged insight into the experience of the pathos of God that the prophet developed his sympathy.(sym-pathos) for the concern of God. Seized by the power of this revelation, he was com-pelled to speak Yahweh's wrrd. Though his sympathy had as its source and focus the divine pathos, it was like that of Yahweh's, directed towards the people, the object of Yahweh's love. As Yahweh had identified himself with Israel (e.g., "My people," what was done to Israel was done to "Us"), so the prophet identified himself with the people, and each, from Moses to the last prophet, lived his vocation within the limitations and struggles of his time and history. God's involvement with Israel can be found on every page of the prophetic works. As with Jeremiah they experienced his word as a burning fire within, ~ind usually endured great personal suffering to deliver what was often an unpopular message. The hardheartedness of Israel is in sharp contrast to the loving relationship God was offering them: You whom I have taken from the ends of the earth and summoned from its far-off places, You whom I have called my servant whom I have chosen and will not cast off-- Fear not, I am with you; be not dismayed; I am your God. I will strengthen you, and help you, and uphold you with my right hand of justice (Is 41:9-10). In return, Yahweh asked a response of love; a love which when directed toward him would be fidelity and when shared with one another would flow out injustice. Micah encapsuled the covenant call in the beautiful text from 6:8: This is what Yahweh asks of you: to act justly to love tenderly and to walk humbly with your God, The psalmist who sang over and over that Yahweh's compassion and mercy endure forever, the prophet who spoke for Yahweh, "with ever-lasting love I will have compassion on you, says the Lord, your Redeemer" (Is 54:8), and Abraham Heschel who insists that the biblical message is not an abstraction but the "certainty that the Creator is the Redeemer"~3--all point to a reality which can only be understood in its fullness by one who has come to know Jesus. The pathos of God gave its utmost expression of love and concern in the incarnation and redemption of Jesus. Jesus comes as compassion incarnate, ~2Heschel, The Prophets, Vol. II, p. 12. ~albid., p. 47. Compassion: A Spirituality for Today / 52"1 as the prophet who not only fully apprehended the divine pathos, but is himself its visible embodiment. "God in search of man" becomes man himself and bridges .the gulf between transcendent mystery and human experience. Jesus, like the prophetic types before him, embraces the reality and consequences of being truly human. As Paul records in the early Chris-tian hymn: He emptied himself and took the form of a slave being born in the likeness of men. He was known to be of human estate, and it was thus that he humbled himself, obediently accepting even death, death on a cross! (Ph 2:7-8). Against the background of old Testament prophecy, Jesus is presented in the New Testament as the Prophet, one caught up in the message he has received from the Father, as he reiterates frequently in the Johannine tradition. His life is a lived experience of the reality of his perception of the Father's love. God's concern and love are his own, and he lives the im-plications of his message to their ultimate consequences. Jesus expresses his mission in the vision of the Isaian prophecy: He has come for the poor, the captives,, the blind and the.downtrodden, to proclaim the good news of the Father's love'(Lk 4:18; Is 61:1-2). He teaches his followers how to love one another (Jn 14:34-5), to be compassionate as their Father is compassionate (Lk 6:36-38), and gives concrete examples in his parables: the forgiving father of the prodigal son (Lk 15:11-32), and the compassionate Samaritan (Lk 10:25-37). He chal-lenges them to the self-transcendence involved in taking up one's cross daily (Lk 9:23-25), and gives them the witness of his own loving response to all whom he encounters along the way. He eats with sinners, embraces little children, weeps over Jerusalem, and identifies with the feelings and needs of the sick, the bereaved, the hungry, the repentant. His ministry is one of healing, forgiving, challenging, and total self-giving, and he suffers and dies for the truth of his message. In the life-giving power of his death and resurrection, the compassion of God has its supreme expression. In contrast to Rudolph Bultmann, who sees the Cross of Jesus as a stumbling block of Christianity, a contemporary Anglican writer, Alistar Kee, sees it as the most meaningful challenge to the Church today in its role to embody the life of Jesus in our time. Kee opts for a reinterpretation of Christian theology which would focus on J~sus as "the way of trans-cendence, in contrast to the way of immanence which characterizes the lives of individuals.''14 He believes that Jesus' total self-transcendence in his acceptance of the cross provides persons today with a powerful example ~4Alistar Kee, The Way of Transcendence (England, Penguin, 1971), p. 159. 522 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 which is "a consistent option" for human life, and which in reality is the only road to fulfillment. A Theology of Compassion Among the New Testament writers, perhaps none has presented this centrality of the cross to the Christian message more clearly than St. Paul, who saw his vocation to "preach Christ crucified" (1 Co 1:23). The cross for Paul was the. basic paradox of Christianity, and I think his compre-hension of its meaning both in the life of Jesus and in his own life formed the foundation for his theology of compassion. Paul personally experienced the compassion of God in his call from Judaism to preach the gospel of Jesus. "I am the least of the apostles; in fact, because I persecuted the Church of God, I do not even deserve the name. But by God's favor I am what I am. This favor of his to me has not proved fruitless" (1 Co 15:9-10). In his missionary work and sufferings, he was aware of the Lord's constant support and love. His mission and his letters to the Corinthian church are among the clearest loci for elucidating his theology. It would take many pages to elaborate on Paul's experiences and his teaching, but perhaps a brief outline will be sufficient. Like the prophets before him, Paul was captured' by the Word of the Lord. He became aware of God's mercy and love for him, and desired to share this love and this message with others to whom he was sent. Preach-ing the gospel was often surrounded With sufferings of all kinds, yet Paul could testify: He comforts us in all our afflictions and thus enables us to comfort those who are in trouble with the same con-solation we have received from hiha. As we have shared much in the suffering of Christ, so through Christ do we share abundantly in his consolation (2 Co 1:4-5). Paul, like Jesus and the prophets before him, identified with the people to whom he ministered, and this identification was chiefly in their weakness and sinfulness, where the presence and power of God was most clearly evident. For Paul, this power of God was revealed uniquely in the death and resurrection of Jesus (1 Co 1:18~25). For the Ch.ristian, the death of Jesus has become the source of life--weakness has triumphed in God. Christ ". was crucified out of weakness, but he lives by the power of God. We too are weak in him, but we live with him by God's power in us" (2 Co 13:4). This conviction that it is in the experience of weakness that he meets the compassionate Lord, is also expressed by Paul in one of the rare glimpses he gives us into his personal prayer. After three times begging the Lord to remove a source of temptation, he received the response, "My Compassion: A Spirituality for Today / 593 grace is enough for you, for in weakness, power reaches perfection." Paul concluded, "And so I willingly boast of my weakness instead, that the power of Christ may rest upon me" (2 Co 12:9), ". for when I am .powerless it is then that I am strong" (12:10). The outgrowth of Paul's experience of God's love and grace is a powerful sense of gratitude. "We seem to have nothing, yet everything is ours" (2 Co 6:10). This sense of being gifted by God is the foundation not only of thankfulness to God, but also the basis for the kind of love for one another that Paul believed should characterize the Chris.tian community. Among all the Lord's gifts, none is as important as love, which is a gift of divine power. In Paul's famous description of Christian love in 1 Corinthians 13 we have the supreme challenge to respond to God's love. This agape which involves such geotleness, forbearance and selflessness can only come from one who has come to terms with his own weakness and his strengthening through God's love for him. It is the bond uniting the ¯ community and it results in a shared compassion: "If one member suffers, all the members suffer with it; if one member is honored, all the members share its joy" (1 Co 12:26). Compassion for Paul seems to involve first a participation in the death dimension of Jesus' life by experiencing his own finitude and limitation. Then through faith in Jesus and baptism 'into his death, Paul shares in the life-giving power of God, acting in him as it did in the resurrection of Jesus. To the Christians of Rome Paul sent the powerful reminder: Are you not aware that we who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? Through baptism into his death~ we were buried with him, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might live a new life (Rm 6:3-4). Speaking of his ministry Paul writes to the Corinthians: This treasure we possess in earthen vessels to make it clear that its sur-passing power comes from God and not from us. We are afflicted in every way possible, but we are not crushed; full of doubts, we never despair. We are persecuted but never abandoned; we are struck down but never destro.y. Con-tinually we carry about in our bodies the dying of Jesus, so that in our bodies the life of Jesus may be revealed. While we live we are constantly being delivered to death for Jesus" sake, so that the life of Jesus may be revealed in our mortal flesh (2 Co 4:7-11). 594 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 This experience of the divine compassion is in turn the source of Paul's love and understanding of others in their weakness, and of his urging them to share their love with one another. This mutual living in love is the strength of the community which fulfills Paul's exhortation to compas-sionate living: "Rejoice with those who rejoice; weep with those who weep" (Rm 12:15). With the background of this brief survey of the pathos of God, the divine compassion revealed in Jesus, and Paul's experience and teaching of the centrality of the Paschal Mystery in Christian life, we possess a foundation for the thesis that Christian theology is essentially a theglogy of compas-sion. If the biblical revelation which underlies our Christian faith is of a Transcendent God who bridges the infinite gulf between himself and us by the reality of his divine pathos, then our challenge in contemporary Chris-tianity is to discover ourselves not only as recipients of his compassionate love, but also as called to incarnate that love in our world through living a spirituality of compassion. A Description of Compassion Before discussing some implications for spirituality based on compas-sion, I would like to refine our understanding of the attitude of compassion and consider some valuable insights from a variety of sources and disci-plines. The richness contained in this concept, and its essential role in human relationships can only be touched on in a paper such as this, but hopefully, it will open up further areas for reflection and development. In its Latin derivation compassion literally means "to suffer with" (compatior). We have seen in the scriptural usage that it always implies some form of identification with human suffering. When speaking of God's compassion, the term often used was "mercy," from the Latin, miseri-cordia. Mercy denotes tenderness of heart, felt and expressed toward an-other, but at times its usage implies an attitude of condescension expressed toward an offender or one suffering disfavor or misfortune. In this sense it is closer to pity. When mercy flows from a loving heart which recognizes and identifies with the feeling and experience of the other, and promotes an appropriate response, it is closer to compassion. For Thomas Aquinas, God's mercy was known by its effects, and flowed from his goodness and love: To sorrow over the misery of others belongs not to God; but it does most properly belong to him to dispel that misery, whatever be the defect we call by that name. Now defects are not removed except by the perfection of some kind of goodness: and the primary source of goodness is God.~ ~Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologica, Vol. I (New York, Benziger, 1947), q. 21, a. 3. Compassion: A Spirituality for Today / 525 God's mercy, which has been called his supreme attribute, is never mere feeling, but always manifests itself in action. The New Testament abounds with examples of how Jesus, when moved with compassion, healed (the blind, the leper, the sick who approached him), forgave (the paralytic, the woman at Simon's house, the soldiers at the foot of the cross), or restored life (the widow's son, the brother of Martha and Mary). In an analogous way, human mercy is not measured by feeling but by concrete proofs, and when this expression of mercy flows from a sense of solidarity with the one who suffers, it is what we call compassion. As Rahner has written, "He who shows mercy receives more than he gives--the clear vision of his own emptiness which alone prevents him from losing the fullness he has re-ceived.''~ 6 Such an attitude preserves mercy from the taint of condescen-sion, and is a recognition of the Pauline theme that it is only in our aware-ness of our own weakness that we can experience God's power and be empowered to be a source of strength for others. The universality of this call to compassion can be seen by an awareness of its importance in many religious traditions in addition to the Judaeo- Christian revelation. A prime example of this is found in Buddhism where compassion is regarded as the highest virtue and is complementary to.the gift of wisdom. The Buddha had discovered the cosmic norm of truth through his attainment of wisdom (Pann6), and it was his primary desire to share this wisdom with those still enmeshed in the world of suffering. This compassion (Karuni~) was an outgrowth of his own contemplation, and hence, Buddha is designated a contemplative in action~ne whose self-enlightenment resulted in good for others. His compassion prevented his wisdom from being mere detached speculation, and his wisdom kept com-passion from being mere sentiment. Buddhism today (e.g., Mahay~tna Bud-dhism) continues this emphasis on the need to effect a liberation for men and women of our time. Because of our common destiny, compassion is viewed as the greatest reality. It is not achieved without great personal detachment, and thus involves the same renouncement and other-center-edness we have spoken of in connection with Jesus and the Christian's participation in the Paschal Myster

Issue 33.6 of the Review for Religious, 1974. ; Review 1or Religious is edited by faculty members of the School of Divinity of St. Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copy-right (~) 1974 by Review ]or Religious. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $1.75. Sub-scription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year; $I1.00 for two years; other countries, $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to Review [or Religious in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent Review ]or Religious. Change of address requests should include former address. R. F. Smith, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor November 1974 Volume 33 Number 6 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to Review for Religious; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts, books for review, and materials for "Subject Bibliography for Religious" should be sent to Review for Religious; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. Roman Documents The following three documents have been recently issued by the Pope or by Roman Congregations. ExPuLSION FROM EXEMPT CLERICAL INSTITUTES Experience has shown that many difficulties and harmful delays can result from the judicial process which, in accordance with canons 654-668 of the Code of Canon Law, must be established when there is question of the expulsion of a male religious in perpetual vows, whether solemn or simple, from an exempt religious institute. The heads of such religious institutes have frequently requested a dis-pensation-- already granted to some religious institutes, on an experimental basis in accordance with the motu proprio Ecclesiae sanctae, II, 6--from the obligation of establishing such a process for the expulsion of religious. They have requested that instead they be allowed to adopt the adminis-trative procedure laid down in canons 648-653 for the expulsion of male religious who have taken perpetual vows in non-exempt clerical institutes or lay institutes. That procedure is recognized as being in keeping with the demands of justice, canonical equity, and respect for the person. Having taken everything into account, the members of this Sacred Con-gregation unanimously decided on the following in their plenary session of October 23-25, 1973: When there is question of expelling male religious with solemn vows or simple perpetual vows, the religious orders and exempt clerical congrega-tions referred to in canon 654 are to follow the procedure prescribed in canons 548-653 for the expulsion of male religious with perpetual vows in non-exempt clerical congregations. The undersigned Cardinal Prefect conveyed this decision to the Supreme 1249 1250 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 Pontiff, Paul VI, in an audience on November 16, 1973. He ratified the decision of the plenary session and ordered it to be confirmed and promul-gated. Therefore by means of this decree the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes publishes the decision. The decree comes into force at once, nor does it need a formula o~ execution. It will remain in force until the revised Code of Canon Law shall have been introduced. Notwith-standing anything to the contrary. Given at Rome, March 2, 1974. Arthur Tabera, Pre[ect Augustine Mayer, O.S.B., Secretary MOTU PROPRIO APOSTOLIC LETTER ON MASS STIPENDS It has been a strong tradition in the Church that the faithful, moved by a religious and ecclesial consciousness, should join a kind of self-sacrifice of their own to the Eucharistic sacrifice so as to share in the latter more effectively and should thereby provide for the needs of the Church, above all for the support of the Church's ministers. This practice is in harmony with the spirit of the Lord's words: "The laborer is worthy of his hire" (Lk 10:7) which the Apostle Paul recalls in the First Letter to Timothy (5: 18) and the First Letter to the Corinthians (9:7-14). In this way the faithful associate themselves more closely with Christ who offers Himself as victim, and accordingly they experience more abun-dant effects. Not only has the practice been approved by the Church, it has been fostered, because the Church considers it to be a sign of the union of the baptized person with Christ as well as of the union of the Christians with the priest who performs his ministry for the benefit of the faithful. To keep this understanding intact and to protect it from any possible error, appropriate regulations have been made in the course of the centuries. These have had the purpose that the worship which the faithful freely offer to God should in fact be celebrated with no lessening of observance and generosity. Because of particular circumstances of different periods and human social conditions, however, it sometimes becomes morally impossible --and thus less equitable--to satisfy in their entirety the obligations which have been sought and accepted. In such cases, therefore, the Church is com-pelled by necessity to make a suitable revision of the obligations while trying at the same time to be consistent in this matter and to keep faith with the donors. With the intention that the regulations for Mass stipends--a'matter cer-tainly serious and one demanding great prudence--should be established equitably, by means of a notification from the papal secretariat issued on November 29, 1971, (AAS, 63 [1971], 841), we decreed that all decisions concerning reductions, condonations, and commutations of Mass stipends Roman Documents should be temporarily reserved to us and we suspended, as of February 1, 1972, all faculties, no matter to whom or in what manner they had been granted. Now that the principal purposes of that regulation have been accom-plished, we judge that the time has come to terminate the reservation. In order to place the appropriate governance of this matter on new foundations and to prevent any incorrect interpretations, with reliance on lawful prece-dents of the past, it has seemed best to now abolish any of the earlier faculties which remain. Nevertheless, to satisfy somewhat the needs which our brothers in the episcopate must sometimes consider and in ~,iew of the experience of the use of faculties granted to them in the apostolic letter Pastorale munus (AAS, 56 [1964], 5-12) and De episcoporum muneribus (AAS, 58 [1966], 467-72) issued motu proprio, we think it expedient to grant certain faculties to those who share the pastoral ministry in the Church with us. Therefore, after mature consideration, upon our own initiative and in virtue of the fullness of our apostolic power, we establish and decree the following for the whole Church: I. From July 1, 1974, the above reservation, mentioned in the notifica-tion of the Secretariat of State on November 29, 1971, ceases. From the same day the sacred congregations of the Roman Curia are empowered to resume their competence in this matter, but accommodating its exercise to new, carefully defined regulations imposed upon them separately. Thus petitions which may be concerned with this matter are once again to be presented to those congregations. II. From the same day all faculties previously in effect concerning Mass stipends, however granted or acquired, are completely revoked. Therefore, the faculties of any physical or moral person cease, whether granted by us or our predecessors, including oral concessions, by the Roman Curia, or by any other authority; whether by force of privilege, indult, dispensation, or any other reason, including particular legislation; whether faculties ac-quired .by communication, custom, including particular, centenary, or im-memorial custom, prescription, or any other manner whatever. In view of this revocation, we decree that only the following faculties have force for the future: a) the faculties now conceded to the sacred congregations of the Roman Curia, mentioned in no. I; b) the faculties contained in the apostolic letter Pastorale munus and in the Index o[ Faculties which are regularly granted to local ordinaries and to pontifical legates; c) the new faculties granted to bishops in this apostolic letter, men-tioned below in no. III. III. From July 1, we grant the f~llowing faculties to the same persons 1252 / Review for Religious, l/olume 33, 1974/6 listed in the° apostolic~ letter Pastorale munus, under the same conditions established in that letter: a) the faculty to permit priests who binate or trinate in the diocese to apply the Masses for a stipend, which is to be given to the needs assigned by the diocesan bishop to apply the Masses according to intentions for which a condonation or reduction would otherwise have to be sought. This faculty is not extended to concelebrated Masses of bination treated in the declaration of the Sacred Congregation for Divine Worship, August 7, 1972,, no. 3b (AAS, 64 [1972], 561-3), for which the reception of a stipend under any "title is prohibited; b) the faculty to reduce, by reason of diminished income, the obligation of cathedral or collegiate chapters to apply the daily conventual Mass for benefactors, with the exception of at least one conventual Mass each month; c) the faculty to transfer, for suitable cause, the obligations of Masses to days, churches, or altars different from those stipulated in the foundations. These regulations become effective on the first day of July. We order that everything decreed in this apostolic letter issued motu proprio be effective and ratified, anything to the contrary notwithstanding, including anything requiring very special mention. Given in Rome, at St. Peter's, on the Feast of Corpus Christi, June 13, 1974, the eleventh year of our pontificate. Paul VI VESTMENTS AT MASS Queries have come from many places asking whether it is lawful to celebrate Mass without the sacred vestments or with only the stole worn over the cassock or one's civilian clothes. These queries have been prompted for the most part by practical rea-sons, especially in cases of traveling, pilgrimages, excursions, and camping. But there have also been reasons of another k~nd, such as to fit in better with given surroundings--when, for example, chaplains of a factory cele-brate in overalls or when Mass is celebrated in Scout uniform for young mountain climbers. Hence the question has been submitted: What is the mind of the Sacred Congregation for Divine Worship on this point? The answer, neither difficult nor far to seek, cannot but be in conformity with what is laid down in the norms issued during these years of liturgical renewal. General Principles First of all, there are the General Principles of the Roman Missal. In number 297 it is stated: "The diversity of ministries in the carrying out of sacred worship is manifested externally by the diversity of sacred vestments, Roman Documents / 1253 which should therefore be a sign of the proper office of each minister." In the following number 298 we read: "The vestment common to all ministers of whatever rank is the alb"; and in number 299: "The vestment proper to the celebrating priest, at Mass and in other sacred functions directly con-nected with it, is the chasuble." These regulations, which echo tradition and renew it in particular matters, are in practice the basis of the norms laid down in the other docu-ments which touch upon the subject. For example, the Instruction on Masses for particular groups (no. 11 b) simply refers to the text from the Roman Missal cited above. The same is quoted by the Third Instruction (no. 8 c) which then adds: The abuse of wearing the stole over the monastic habit, the cassock, or civilian dress when concelebrating or celebrating Mass is (ondemned. Nor is it lawful to carry out other sacred functions, such as the imposition of hands during ordinations, or the administration of the sacraments, or the giving of blessings, while wearing only the stole over one's civilian dress. Norm Unchanged From this norm the Sacred Congregation for Divine Worship has never deviated, nor does it intend to do so either in regulations of a general char-acter or in particular indults. And the reason for this is quite simple, as already indicated in the General Principles--the distinction of orders, the decorum of the sacred action, and the clear-cut separation of the sacred from the profane. The community wishes to be respected, and it wishes to perceive also by means of the senses, the meaning of the rites, and to be included in the mystery. Only one extenuation has been introduced to facilitate the use of sacred vestments when traveling and changing from place to place, and that is the use of the chasuble without the alb. This presupposes that it is a full circular chasuble, reaching to the ankles, and with stole worn over it. In this case it is possible to do without the alb. The chasuble may always be of the same color, while the color of the stole will change according to the liturgical color of the day. This sacred vestment, when folded, can easily fit into a small traveling bag. But its use is limited to cases of necessity and it should be authorized upon the request of the Episcopal Conference of the respective country. Its use is regulated by precise norms (see Notitiae, 1973, pp. 96ff.). St. Pius once wrote: "Let beauty attend your prayer!" On that occasion he was referring more particularly to the chant, but it is applicable to the entire setting of the celebratioi~. The sacred vestment is one of the more important elements, and at the same time it emphasizes the sacredness of the celebration. All the ritual elements established by the competent authority should 1254 / Review ]or Religious, l/ohtme 33, 1974/6 be observed and respected so that every communication of the community with God should take place, through its duly qualified ministers, in a halo of dignity and solemnity that transcends the too worldly practices of every-day life. Annibale Bugnini Titular Archbishop of Diocletiana Secretary of the Sacred Congregation for Divine Worship Shared Prayer in Religious Communities Today Leonard Doohan Dr.Leonard Doohan writes from Ingersley Hall; Ingersley Road; Bollington; Mac-clesfield; Cheshire, England. A previous article by Dr. Doohan, "Apostolic Prayer," appeared in the July 1974 issue of Review ]or Religious, pages 785-9. The Spirit-inspired conciliar Church has presented all religious with five basic principles which ought to guide their continued developing growth in the spiritual life. They are: fidelity to the gospel, fidelity to the spirit of the institute to which the religious belongs, participation in the life of the Church, knowledge of the present world, and priority in conversion and in a deepening of the spiritual life. Each of these five spheres of life has focused more and more on the idea, so well developed by the Council (see AG 2,3; LG 9,1; GS 24,1i 32,1), that the person has the greatest possible growth within community. It is here within community, the Council says, that through a common effort in spiritual growth and development, the whole and each of the parts receives increase (see LG 13,3). Possibly, this idea of group growth is one of the great spiritual dimensions of the Council and reflection of postconciliar years. Moreover, no matter how mature individ-uals may be, there is still needed a painful and slow maturing and growth of the group's spiritual life. In any community's self-education to group growth, prayer in its various forms must have primacy. We hear.a great deal today about group discernment, community re-vision of life, assemblies, communication of life, chapters of renewal, forma-tion teams, community meetings, and the like; but if all these are not prayer experiences it is, I feel, really difficult for them to succeed as genuine steps in the development of the spiritual life of any group. All forms of prayer can lead to the development of the community's 1255 1256 / Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 spiritual life. The form I would like to consider is that form of group prayer technically known as "shared prayer." Possible Indications of Origins Shared prayer is now a commonly accepted form of prayer and it is quite unusual to find nowadays a reasonably sized group without at least some being in prayer groups or sharing prayer within their own communities. Christians have become increasingly aware that while prayer is the raising of the mind and heart to God, for too long insufficient care has been given to a consideration of the subject of prayer--man. The subject of prayer is a person who is intimately connected with others--they are part of man. He grows and develops with others, because of others, but in prayer he has often tried to be without others and therefore has remained stunted in spiritual growth. I feel that the view of the great St. Teresa is correct that all real spiritual development is paralleled by a growth in prayer, and I think we can see that much of our frustrated effort at group renewal has at least a partial answer in the weakness of growth in group prayer in its many forms. Many rejected shared prayer, or never gave it a chance, because it was just one of the "new things" introduced without real need. Perhaps it is more correct to acknowledge that it is not new but unfortunately has been out of use for too long and as a result we have suffered. In the Acts of the Apostles we see the importance given to group prayer whether in the ideal image of Christian living presented by Luke in Chapter 2 (42), or in the practical'circumstances of daily life--Pentecost, election of Matthias, choice of the seven deacons, mission of Barnabas and Paul. In some cases, undoubtedly, study indicates that the prayer sp6ken of by the author of Acts could be the repetition of psalm-type Jewish prayers or, in other cases, a developing liturgical prayer. However, .in some passages, as the election of Matthias (1, 24-5) and the group prayer after the apostles' release from the Sanhedrin (4, 24f.), we are very definitely dealing with a group gathering where prayer is spontaneously shared. In fact, a reading of the Acts more easily leaves one with the general impression of a spon-taneous prayer-sharing rather than an already newly-structured prayer form or a total, unchanged acceptance of a prior Jewish-structured prayer-form. Moreover, the detailed description by Paul of the Corinthians' prayer meetings (1 Cor cc. 12 and 14) certainly highlights the characteristic of spontaneity in sharing; and, although he feels the need to regulate this, he continually reaffirms its value. The attitude of the early Christians is understandable enough--they were simply imitating Jesus who spontaneously shared His prayer with His disciples. In Jesus' case, it is true that some of His prayers are repetitions of Jewish prayer forms and in other cases are prayers put into His mouth by the evangelists. However, even when these clear cases are excluded, the Shared Prayer in Religious Communities Today / 1257 general picture left is still one in which Jesus, when praying to His Father, allows others to share in these filial expressions of His faith, hope, and love. It was in a general context of group sharing on a revision of apostolic life that Jesus burst into spontaneous prayer: "I bless you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, for hiding these things from the learned and the clever, and revealing them to mere children" (Lk 10:21). The spontaneity of sharing JPY in apostolic success is praised by Jesus who, by example, goes on to show His valuing of spontaneity in prayer expression. In a brief article it is not possible to go into too many details. I would, therefore, just like to express the personal view that, in reading the early Christian fathers and ascetics of the first centuries, I was very definitely left with the impression of considerable spontaneous group spiritual sharing. Purpose of Shared Prayer The aim of shared prayer, like all prayer, is to g!ve glory to God by our thanksgiving, praise, sorrow, adoration or recognition of our total de-pendence on Him. In shared prayer we give glory to God with one mind and heart and in one shared expression. In some ways this form is possibly more ecclesial---it is more visibly shown that it is the one Spirit in each giving life to the whole body of the faithful. It think it is important to keep this aim clearly in mind and never to approach shared prayer merely as a means of bringing a group together. Moreover, when the aim is clear this undoubtedly modifies the way in which we approach the shared prayer--when convinced that the aim is to give glory to God we will more easily direct our prayers to our Father rather than drop to personal reflections for the benefit of the group. Effects of Shared Prayer The result of shared prayer over a period of time is very definitely abundant blessing by the Lord. Anyone who has shared prayer over a period of time cannot but be amazed at a growth and enrichment far greater than the effort put into it. Since we are concerned with a form of group asceticism, it is natural enough that the effects of shared.prayer, on the whole, parallel the normal psychological dynamic of growth in any group. If .we considered the dynamic growth of a group in five major stages: 1. Convocation, 2. Phase of human relationships, 3. Period of maturing of the ideal of a group, 4. Period of consolidation, 5. Permanence or disappearance ot~ the group, we would find parallel stages of growth in the prayer group. Moreover, it would be quite unreasonable for anyone to expect in the early ph.ase of convocation the results that come only after time together, growth suffering--real asceticism --in the later stages of group growth. On the other hand, some prayer groups never really move beyond the second phase of group development 1258 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 and the result is a weekly, monotonous repetition of the same petitionary prayer in a friendly atmosphere. Moment of Convocation ¯ A group will come together (moment of convocation in group develop-ment) only if there already exists some mutual acceptance and common aspirations. The reason for setting up the group for shared prayer is gen-erally the same clearsightedness or deep awareness and realization that salvation consists in brotherhood--and the brotherhood is a praying-sharing community. The setting up of the prayer group demands deep faith con-viction regarding group growth and this vision must be shared by the group who already have a certain basic mutual acceptance and trust. If these prerequisites are not present, then it would seem a waste of time to attempt to set up a group for shared prayer; and it must be admitted that frequently, even within religious communities, there is too little faith and vision for the existence of group growth. Mariy communities are characterized by an individualism which guarantees the permanence of partial Christian spiritual growth. It must be said that many who dedicate themselves to community living seem unaware that this implies group growth. This preliminary step in group development---convocation has the effect of setting up the group for shared prayer. Period o4 Growth in Human Relationships There follows a pdriod of growth in human relationships within the group when in the prayer group the continued sharing of prayer leads to growth in self-acceptance, and in acceptance of and trust in others. The prayer becomes richer and more deeply shared--because I won't say things if I don't trust. Another direct effect at this stage is increased sensitivity to others, and to the presence of the Spirit in others. This leads to an experi-ential knowledge of who the Church is. It is important that the life of the prayer group be not just the moments of shared prayer, but rather be frequently enriched, at this stage, with various get-togethers of a social, even recreational, type. This can facilitate the development of trust, sensitivity, and mutual acceptance necessary for the development of group prayer life at this stage. However, it is important, during this time, to maintain the sharing principally on the level of faith-prayer- sharing and not allow it to become a mere socializing. Moreover, to improve the quality of the prayer, and the trust and sharing which are basic to it, the group, during this period in its own growth, could complement the shared prayer sessions with other periods of group discussion, revision of life, revision of prayer. Unfortunately, some groups just plod on week after week with a medi-ocre shared prayer and never pass through this second phase in the life of any group. Shared PrayerI"zn Religious Communities Today / 1259 At this stage, some within the group become dissatisfied with the quality of prayer life and leave. Some overemphasize the socializing dimensions and are not prepared to accept the demanding aspects of group asceticism and growth in shared prayer and they too leave the group. Tension results and this is the first main crisis in the prayer group's life. It can be overcome when the group searches to clarify the true direction of its prayer life together. Maturing the Group's Ideal A third phase in any group's psychological development is the period of maturing of the ideal of the group. Possibly, we could take a glance, for a similar situation, at the advice given by Paul to the Corinthians. Accord-ing to Paul, in all prayer meetings the group should emphasize that which exhorts, encourages, and builds up the community to the glory of God. These are effects that result from a qualitative improvement in the prayer life of the group at this stage. It becomes a period of increased mutual understanding, increased sensitivity to others, much deeper prayer sharing. At this stage, the group begins to understand the phases of spiritual life through which individuals in the group are passing, and when personal difficulties or "nights" in prayer come, the group can be supportive. I personally feel that it is only after a sufficient time has passed that in accepting, sharing, and making one's own another person's prayer we grad-ually totally accept that other person. Younger people in religious com-munities accepting older members completely, implicitly accept in them and through them the traditions of' an institute which otherwise they would probably never have absorbed so completely. This period is vital for the shared prayer of the group. It ought to be supported frequently by other meetings dedicated to revision of the group's shared prayer. I consider this point as the key to the qualitative develop-ment of the group's shared prayer--frequent group revision of the prayer. Period of Consolidation The period of consolidation is a moment of maturing in the group's development. For the prayer group it is the time when the quality of sharing in prayer opens the group to the total Christian vision of salvation in com-munity. Sharing becomes not only an attitude in prayer, but a life style. The members become profoundly convinced of being Church--being just parts of a total body which expresses itself in many ways. It is a period of real, though partial, realization of the original vision. It is also the period of openness to others outside the group. The group which came together for prayer finds now that the union achieved in sharing prayer is of sign value to the world, and the group now takes on increasingly the apostolic dimensions of witness to the union, sharing, and love which are of the 1260 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 essence of Christianity. The union, trust, and sharing developed in prayer are contagious and expansive. Naturally enough, any group that becomes exclusive or even develops a certain type of spiritual ghetto has not reached this stage at all; in fact it has probably not even reached the preliminary moment of convocation in faith. That such prayer groups exist is also undeniable. The Final Stage The final stage in the psychological development of a group is the mo-ment of growth, expansion, or division. This crisis is the result of fullness and indicates the moment when the group sharing prayer should divide in order to be able to open to more people. No group should ever be exclusive nor is it a healthy sign when it is always the same. Rather, the growth achieved through group sharing in faith and prayer must be communicated. The sharing in prayer leads to a sharing of life and this sharing of life must not be just for the group but a gift for others. I realize that reality is more complex than a scheme, and life richer than a list, but I feel too that it is important to know the dynamic growth through which a group passes, and know what this can lead to in spiritual sharing in prayer. I have here tried to use one of the simplest ways of view-ing this. The general effects of shared prayer are increased acceptance, deepened trust, mutual understanding, increased sensitivity; those within the group receive exhortation and encouragement. They are helped in expressing themselves in prayer and the general result is now as it was in Corinth--the building up of community. Forms of Shared Prayer We normally consider three forms of personal, individual prayer: vocal, meditative, and contemplative. I would suggest that, in group shared prayer, there are three parallel types. Ihdividual vocal or formula prayer has as its group manifestation shared spontaneous prayer in which the expressions of each one are unconnected but shared by the group. Personal individual meditative prayer is, in the group, paralleled by a shared meditation in which the discursive aspects of meditative prayer follow, not the developing thought of an individual, but the train of thought of the group--the group meditates as a single mind. The third form---contemplative--is found in its .group manifestation, in certain genuine pentecostal prayer sessions. The form of group prayer we are concerned with, and which is generally understood by the current title of "shared prayer," is the first kind--shared, spontaneous expressions of prayer. In this group prayer, it is normal to begin with a short period of silence, then of prayer to the Holy Spirit to illumine the minds and enkindle the hearts of the group--to come and pray in the group. This prayer is made by a definite leader who then opens the Shared Prayer in Religious Communities Today / 1261 session with a reading, preferably from Scripture. This is followed again with silence--a strong, reflective moment from which vocalized prayer springs. When people begin to pray in their hearts--expressing the senti-ments brought forth by the reading--these sentiments should be vocalized for the group, and each person in the group unites himself with the prayer expressed. The word "shared" does not refer to the fact that we all pool together our prayers, but rather it refers to the fact that all in the group share the sentiments of anyone who vocalizes his prayer. Therefore, it is possible for someone who never vocalizes prayer within the group to share the prayer of all the others. It is not necessary to speak to share prayer. It is necessary to unite oneself with the prayerful sentiments of another. The leader should have a definite time to bring the session to a con-clusion. Some Problems Met in Shared Prayer When a group is just starting, it is frequent to find that all the time allotted to the session is filled with prayers of request. This is natural enough and is normal in the development of individual prayer too. The group should not be worried or discouraged by this, provided that, eventually, the prayer begins to open to praise, glory, adoration, thanksgiving, and sorrow. Again, the group should be on its guard that the time for shared prayer is not too full. If one after another within the group expresses prayer without much silence, then there is probably little listening. I can't come in straight away with my prayer if I was really listening and uniting myself totally to the prayer of the previous speaker. Good shared prayer needs silence and listening. Some will say that shared prayer is not natural, they feel uneasy and self-conscious. This is undeniable. For some it seems very artificial. On the other hand, anyone who begins to meditate following an Ignatian or Sulpi-clan or Carmelite method will undoubtedly feel the same way. Moreover, just as it becomes easier in personal meditation once the method is mas-tered and forgotten, so too in group shared prayer. Others will become frustrated by the slow development of the prayer and claim that what they have is better. I can only say that shared prayer needs time to develop. There could be no enrichment in any sphere of ex-istence without the tediousness of the early stages. A difficulty, or definite danger, that needs to be avoided is the substi-tuting of a pseudo dialogue for shared prayer. In'a period of prayer, instead of praying, we try to tell each other something and, at times, subtly surface a rejection or problem we cannot otherwise openly speak about. This must be checked. At times, someone will pray and monopolize the time of the session with long-winded interventions. This, like the previous problem, is best dealt with through a periodic revision by the group of its own prayer. I 1262 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 repeat a point I have already emphasized--for me, personally, the key to shared prayer is the frequent revision of it. On such an occasion it would also be possible to recall to prayer those who may just drop to shared re-flection, because if it is shared prayer it should be kept at that level. Some people ask whether it is advisable to have a group for shared prayer within a religious community if not all the community wish to par-ticipate. I would think that, if shared prayer is a growth factor in building commui~ity, it should be used wherever there is a group. If the participants take care to avoid becoming a ghetto, keep people informed, always let it be seen to be open, then the rest of the community should have no cause to object. Finally, shared prayer is not a substitute for personal, private meditative or contemplative prayer. Anyone who uses it in that way indicates a lack of knowledge of the spiritual life, and a lack of correct perspective or re-lationship between individual and group growth. Shared prayer is an excellent form of group asceticism and leads to personal growth and the upbuilding of the community. It needs to be ap-proached with knowledge, guided by experienced members and continually open to revision, correction, and development. It is an indispensable ele-ment in group growth, but must be used with considerable flexibility--the pattern for one group is not necessarily that for another. As it develops and is used by more groups, the Christian will learn to move freely with others of common faith and be able to say with Paul: "I am longing to see you either to strengthen you by sharing a spiritual gift with you or, what is better, to find encouragement among you from our common faith" (Rm 1:11). In the Context of Discerning Sister Marie Beha Sister Marie Beha, O.S.C., is a member of the Monastery of St. Clare; 1916 North Pleasantburg Drive; Greenville, South Carolina 29609. Everything, everyone wants to grow: The desire is as universal as new grass springing up after early rains and warm sun. But growth is never any more predictable than the uneven development of an adolescent. We want to grow, but we can't make ourselves grow, nor can we control growth. All we can do is to further it or impede it. There are the laws both of nature and of spirit. What makes us grow must come from another: sun and truth to warm and enlighten us; food and love to nourish us. In terms of spiritual growth, it is pre-eminently God who enables us to grow and this He does with all the tenderness of His love. God desires that we grow and provides what we need for growth. Our part, and it is an essential part, is to collaborate with what is given to us, to co-operate with God's action in our lives. So a critical part of our life in the Lord is a.matter of discerning His unique call to us, of co-operating in becoming the person His creative love calls us to be. When we do, we grow; when we fail, we ourselves remain stunted and the coming of His kingdom is delayed. Granted that discernment is only one part of our growing. To know is effective only if we are willing to live out what we have learned. But it re-mains true that the first thing is to know, to discern. Paul speaks of "the mature who have their faculties trained by experi-ence to discern between good and evil" (Heb 5:14). And we might add, to discern not only what'is good and evil on the broad scale of things but to discover what is right for oneself, wrong for oneself, what is helpful at a particular time, what is impossible. In other words, discernment is not 1263 1264 / Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 so much concerned with the will of God in itself, but rather with the ways in which a particular person, in the concrete circumstances of everyday life, is drawn to respond to the Lord. As one matures, such deciding for oneself in terms of one's personal vocation becomes more and more necessary. General rules that apply to all have already been accepted and now must be passed beyond. What is uniquely personal must be" acknowledged and integrated into one's response. Such is the state of personal responsibility in which most Christians find themselves today as increasingly they must decide the specifics of their own life,~ relying less dependently on the laws of the Church. The present article hopes to deal with: (1) the context of discernment, the background within which discernment is operative; (2) some of the obstacles which prevent true discernment; and (3) conclude with some suggested criteria for discernment. Context of Discernment One of the most basic presuppositions of discernment is that it is an ongoing process, "ongoing" since discernment does not attempt to reach final answers which prescind from further need to discern. On the contrary, each discernment calls for yet another. It is like walking through a door, only to find still a further door to be opened, still another path to follow. Because of this, discernment is not just an exercise for a certain time of one's life, but rather something that must continue throughout life. If discernment has any seasons, these probably belong to the mature person, the one who has already incorporated into his life the general rules, the over-all direction and who must now make more specific application to his own life situation. So the focus continuously becomes more personal, more precise, more "vocational." Discernment is not only an ongoing necessity; in itself, it implies process. It does not reach infallible conclusions; it simply indicates courses of action which are clear enough to call for response. At this point, the focus of dis-cerning shifts from the original: Is this right, best? to How is'this effective in my life? What are its further implications? And the answers to these and similar questions may mean that the process has to be repeated. When this happens we need not feel that our first response was incorrect, a mistake. It may have been. But it may also have been simply a part of the process, the closing of a door that had to be opened and gone through before it could be honestly shut. If discernment, is process, then it takes time. How much time is some-thing that can only be determined in the very process. By this is meant that how much time a particular subject of discernment deserves is part of what must be decided within the context of discerning. If an issue seems of lesser importance, it may be the part of true discernment to spend only a minimal amount of time on it. But such a conclusion of triviality is already part of' In the Context o[ Discerning / 1265 the process, for what may b'e unimportant, in an objective sense, can be discerned to be critical in the context of an individual's life in the Lord; it can also assume increased importance at a specific moment of truth in an individual's life. Or the very raising of an issue of discernment may reveal that the time is not yet for this particular thing to be determined. Even though a decision would be helpful, efficient, even though other decisions may hinge on this one, there is nothing to do but wait for the right time to discern. One ot~ the surprises of discerning is the discovery that something which seemed to call for discernment has already been decided in the depths of one's own being. All the discernment process needs to do now is to reveal and so make explicit something that a person's life has already determined. In cases of important decisions that have to be made such a discovery of "it is finished" is delight and peace. In cases where reform and renewal are required, the discovery ot~ what has a!ready become vital is only the painful beginning of something that will require much labor. Discernment is not only process, it is a process most intimately, related to life. Its goal is life. In general, a positive discernment opens to life, to new life, to renewed life. It not only leads to fuller life; it is also something coming out of life. It comes, first of all, out of a life that is open to the Lord and His leading; and out of the reality of the individual's everyday. Dis-cernment is not theoretical, abstract, in the book; it is practical, specific, in the everyday. However, a caution is in order. Though daily life is one context of dis-cernment, it cannot be adhered to too narrowly, too pragmatically. Discern-ment can surface the unusual, the unexpected. It may seem to require an interruption, even an upheaval of the ordinary. But, I suspect, that when time has washed over the decision, even these unexpected developments, will be seen as congruent with the larger pattern of a person's life. And what appears to be an interruption proves, ultimately, to be only the surfacing of something that has been there all along. Continuity, even apparent discontinuity, needs to be tested against the reality of other people and of their lives. For the context of discernment is never solitary, just because our life in the Lord is never solitary. We stand before Him together and so the background for my discernment must be widened to include other persons with particular attention to those who are my neighbors. In some cases this may mean asking others for confirma-tion, suggestions, a different point of view. Even when such deliberate seek-ing out of others is not indicated, still the decision ot~ the individual must be viewed as part of love. Finally, the context of true discernment is always prayer, a life of prayer even more than specific prayer for he!p in each instance. Though an ex-pression of openness to God and desire to discern in the light of His truth is always right, still the most basic way in which prayer is part of the process 1266 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 is that it provides a continuing conscious relationship with God all through life. The more real this contact is for the individual, the more direct and simpie his process of discerning. For one who lives in the truth, discovers the truth almost intuitively. So vital is the part played by prayer in true discernment, that without it, discernment would be limited to a merely human weighing of pro's and con's, rather than responding to the specifics of God's call in one's life. Obstacles to Discernment What impedes the discernment process, even renders it invalid at times? The obstacles are as diverse and many-leveled as the reality of man him-self. On the physical level, we face as primary obstacles failures in timing and fatigue, to name a few. The former element of timing has already been suggested in the preceding discussion. Not only can we fail to discern be-cause we are impatient but also because we want too much too soon. So we are pre-disposed to seek what will flatter our ego and give us a sense of accomplishment. But in reality, we may be reasonably certain that the way in which we are going to come to God is not the way of egoism nor of still more total reliance on self. Fatigue, with its accompaniment of pseudo-discouragement, depression, and inability to get beyond the immediacy of our own inadequate state also clouds true discernment. Something as human and as simple as a good night's rest may open the way to greater truth. But such physical obstacles are relatively straightforward in comparison to the psychological difficulties which impede discernment. It even seems that the more refined the issues which must be discerned, the more subtle is the danger from blocks arising from the psyche of the discerner. Such blocks include any habits of thinking that make one less flexible, prejudices, any fixed patterns of behavior. For example, a pattern of thinking that the difficult is always the more perfect, a prejudice that rules out the pleasurable as somehow suspect impedes true discernment. Patterns of emotional re-action can also disturb and cloud one's response to what is truth in the Spirit. Anything that keeps us agitated, circling around self, critical of our brothers, angry with ourselves and with others becomes an impediment. Perhaps the most pervasive of these emotional blocks, though not the most apparent among them, is the presence of fear. Not conscious fear, with a reasonable objective basis, but the unreasoned fear, the subconscious terror that lurks in the dark. It is this kind of fear which inhibits true response, compelling us to react unreasonably. Such fear cripples freedom and so limits our presence to truth. It also projects a God, created out of its own unreality, destroying the possibility of a loving relationship with Him. Usually these emotional blocks are so deep seated and beyondconscious control that they can only be worked with when they are seen through the In the Context of Discerning / 1267 eyes of a more objective observer. Sometimes when they are surfaced and expressed to another just that much light dissipates them and true growth will go on from there. At other times, these fears must be acted against, strongly but gently, until counter patterns can be set up. How strongly, how quickly, will be part of the discernment process. At least they must not be allowed to blind the discerner, crippling the whole process. The spiritual obstacle to truth in the discernment process is sin, not only the sinful acts themselves but also all the tangled roots of selfishness, greed, lust, bitterness, jealousy that somehow enslave us and keep us at a certain distance from the truth of the Spirit who would make us free. It is a critical part of the process to expose these roots, to open them up to the hearing power of the Father's love. The more we have deepened these tendencies by our concrete actions, the more they will influence our discern-ment coloring it with their own distorted lens. As.a beginning to their ex-tirpation, such sins can be acknowledged and so be made less influential. At best, they can be diminished by our counter efforts and, far more, by the saving power of Jesus which we ask for in the effort to discern honestly. Criteria for Discernment The criteria for discernment are not objective standards with universal applicability but are themselves matter for discernment. Which criteria apply here, which are especially revealing, what is" the meaning of a par-ticular criterion, all these questions must be included in the process itself. With this in mind, we can state a few standards which can serve to stimulate and guide the process, preventing it, perhaps, from becoming too subjective. First of all, discernment aims at uncovering truth, personal truth, and so it must be rooted in truth. ~This means it must be concerned with the real, the practical, the possible in our lives. What is patently impossible can never be the call of God; what is very difficult may be. This difference is what must be discerned and then tested in the concrete of an individual's life. To aid in such testing, one can ask, does this particular "spirit" under-line what is human in me; does it strengthen what is healthy about my personality, rather than reenforce some tendency that is already unhealthy. In other words, does it strengthen my defense reactions or does it result in a lowering of my defenses, even though such an opening of myself may leave me painfully exposed at first. Discernment in truth raises such questions as: Where am I able to be most myself? What course of action grows out of my experience of self and calls forth my best self? Paradoxically enough, such a discernment of what is best for myself, will result in a capacity to forget about self. It will broaden from the truth of self to the larger and truer understanding of self- 1268 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 for-others. When this happens there need be no further hesitation; the truth of discernment is setting the self free. And freedom is a second criterion for discernment, for discernment can only arrive at the truth when it begins in freedom. The very initiation of the process must be a matter of the individual's free choice. If a person feels compelled to make adecisi0n, to come up with an answer, even when he realizes that the time has not yet come for working with this particular question, then the whole process can be set on a wrong course. In contrast, when the discernment begins in freedom, it ends by making the person more free. This is so true, that the experience of freedom gives some indication of a valid discernment. I say some indication because this experience of freedom may become apparent only after a painful period of struggle to integrate the newly discerned truth into one's life. This struggle may even be accompanied by a certain "compulsion" that is expressed in something like, "I must work with this now." This uncomfortable awareness that "now is the time" comes from within, however, and not from some external pres-sure, nor from a compulsion based on fear. When the individual can accept personal responsibility for what he feels "compelled" to do, then he can proceed in security and freedom. Freedom, as it is being used here, is almost synonymous with capacity to respond. The responsible man knows the reality of his own situation; he realizes and takes into account the needs of others and in doing this is free to answer "yes" with Christ to the Father. He is aware of the cost of his discipleship and willing to assume responsibility for it. In all of this he is free to discern and is being made freer in the very process. A third important standard for valid discernment is the criterion of unity. Can the particular result of this discerning be integrated into my life as an individual; does it serve to further unify and bring together the pieces of my life. When this is true, the new piece fits the pattern of my life and gives me a sense of comfort and ease. Such comfort and ease, however, may not be immediately apparent. Like a pair of new shoes, an unfamiliar truth or unaccustomed way of acting may take some breaking in, some getting used to but ultimately it should make the individual whole. Another way in which unity tests discernment is in terms of the com-munity. What will this course of action mean for others? Is it respectful of different gifts, of the complementarity of gifts? Again, this criterion must not be applied too readily. What may seem at first to be disruptive, what causes trouble to the community, may ultimately be for its peace. Perhaps this aspect of unity in community may best be tested in the willingness of the individual to consider the needs of others as part of his own discerning. Some of the differences between what is best for the individual and what is best for the community can be dealt with in terms of the gospel to which all are called. Does a particular object of discernment fit in with the message of Jesus in the gospel? Is it Christological? Paschal, involving both death In the Context of Discerning / 1269 and resurrection? When this is true it will bring peace to the individual and to the community. Not the peace of feeling that all is well but the peace of knowing that one is growing toward union with God. A fourth criterion of a discernment that is free, true, and unifying is the presence of a certain note of fidelity. First of all, the process must be faith-ful to the conditions for true discernment which have already been suggested. When these conditions are not met, when obstacles are not worked with, dishonesty eats holes in the foundation and the whole building begins to sink. In addition, fidelity, itself, is seen as open loyalty, coming out of a past and pointing ahead to a future. It must be consistent with the past of a person's life, unifying and giving a new meaning to what has gone before. This is so true that what has the elements of the new and unexpected to the casual observer will seem familiar and somehow right to the discern~r. Because true discernment comes out of a past it will often be characterized by a certain element of persistence. God's call to us has a way of repeating itself with growing insistency till we respond a "Here I am." But in the answering we come to recognize the call as something we have known, about for a long time, more or less consciously. Such recognition is, itself, an indication of a valid discernment. So truth in discernment is bound up with fidelity to one's past. But fidelity which only looks backward walks blindly in terms of the future. True fidelity has an element of openness which allows the individual to be moved ahead by the Spirit of God. In .practice what is discerned as right may not be equated with what is predictable. The Spirit blows where He will and this element of the unexpected is another assurance of His presence and His action. But the unexpected of God is not just the arbitrary. Quite often what we ourselves never expected, never dreamed of, is rather ob-vious to others; it may also become apparent to the individual once it has surfaced. In this case the surprise of the Spirit is welcomed with recogni-tion. Two other criteria for discernment are more specifically related to voca-tional discernment and its implications in the everyday of Christian life; these are the criteria of service and of prayer. When a directional force in life is to be discerned, or a particular course of action determined upon, a rather clear criterion is the question: Does this enable me to serve better? Does it allow me to become more aware of others, more open to their in-dividuality? Does it make me more compassionate? For one over-all direc-tion of life that must always be included in specific discernment is love. And in the Christian context love is spelled out as service so the where and the when and the how of my best service are always relevant evaluators. In a comparable way, prayer is both a means to discernment and a criterion for it. As m6ans to discernment, prayer calls for the most radical kind of openness before the Lord, a begging with one's whole being for 1270 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 His light and His direction. It requires more honesty than we can summon out of ourselves; it calls for the truth that is the Spirit of Truth. If our prayer is an occasion for spinning illusions about God and about ourselves, then we are not really praying. For prayer deals in revelation, not always the bright light of beautiful religious truth, but often the darkness of our need to be redeemed. Prayer makes demands: that we wait for the Lord; that we remain open; that we change; that we begin every day, new in hope. Prayer that begins with a sincere desire for the Spirit of Truth will form the background for the most searching of discernments. But in addition to providing context, prayer also helps in the process itself. Of a specific object of inquiry it asks, is this something I can comfortably take before the Lord? Will it stand testing in the light of exposure to His presence? Even to ask the question is sometimes to arrive at an answer. In terms of times and circumstances of one's life, the question can be phrased, Where and when is my prayer most real? Where does God attract me? Where am 1 most able to be present to Him? What have been theprivileged moments of my re-lationship with Him? These are questions for individual discernment, not matters for general application of pious principles. The question of where I am able to be most myself before the Lord and, more importantly, of where He can best reveal Himself to me are as uniquely individual as the core of my being. They can only be answered in the context of my life and its development. In all of these ways, through prayer and service, through fidelity to past and future; through a deeper integration of truth into our own lives and of our lives into the life of Christ; through doing the truth in freedom we finally come closer to that unique perfection to which God calls us as persons. In our own way and time we grow into that "wisdom which comes down from above which is essentially pure; which also makes for peace and is kindly and considerate; it is full of compassion and shows itself by doing good, nor is there any trace of partiality or hypocrisy in it" (James 3:17-8). Discernment of,Spirits in the Choice of Ministry: A Sociological View Leo F. Fay Dr. Leo F. Fay is the chairman of the Department of Sociology; Fairfield University; North Benson Road; Fairfield, Connecticut 06430. Introduction While the discernment of spirits as an aid to the. discovery of the will of God has a history that antedates even the Spiritual Exercises of Ignatius Loyola, it has become a critical issue for religious only in more recent years. Prior to the post-Vatican renewals of religious life, discernment in the major decisions of a religious' life was made through submission to the will of superiors. As that traditional notion of discernment through obedience to authority has become deemphasized, the question of how individuals and groups of religious should make decisions has been receiving more and more attention. Most of that attention has been theological. Articles and treatises have been written on the how, when, and why of discernment, but usually from the theoretical and normative stance of the theologian. The present article is an attempt to broaden the discussion of discernment, especially as it relates to the choice of ministry, by injecting the empirical and descriptive viewpoint of the sociologist. One of the assumptions behind this effort is that theological reflection on religious life and behavior can have disastrous consequences if it is not formed by a sociological analysis of the .empirical realities of religious life and behavior. Often, for example, theological efforts at renewal will quite correctly assume that a particular form or practice traditional in religious life has come intrinsically meaningless and outmoded. It may be, however, that such a practice has definite, if latent, social functions which are crucial 1271 1272 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 to the very existence of religious life and must be satisfied in another way. Three questions will be examined in this article: 1. What is the actual process of discernment in the choice of ministry? In other words, in what context; or under what circumstances, or in what setting does the contemporary religious make her choice-of-ministry deci-sions? 2. What is the content of discernment in the choice of ministry? In other words, what sort of considerations and motivations are religious in fact using in making those decisions? 3. What are the major problems with these trends, from a sociological point of view, for religious life and communities, and what directions might prove fruitful in the search for solutions? The Source of the Data The data for this article were collected from questionnaires distributed to 442 sisters of one of the American provinces of an international institute. 396 sisters (88%) returned questionnaires in this study of personnel plans and attitudes. The parts of the questionnaire that are of special relevance to our concerns here are two: a question designed to find out how the sisters themselves perceive and describe their own process of discernment when they are faced with a choice-of-ministry decision; and the reasons they give for choosing (or preferring) a particular ministry. The Process of Discernment The question of the sisters' perception of how they actually go about deciding on a choice of ministry listed thirteen alternatives for the respon-dents to choose among in describing their own discernment process, and left a fourteenth space blank ("other") in case they wished to express another possibility. Six of these alternative responses were authority-related: they included the bishops of the Church, the general chapter, the superior general, the provincial, provincial administrators, and local superiors. Four of the questionnaire items were personal (namely: "my own conscience," "my own reasoning and thought processes," "various kinds of reading," and "my own feelings and emotions';), and three were social (namely: "historical events and social conditions," "communication with other sisters," and "communication with the people I serve"). The results are very clear. The sisters' description of how they go about discernment in the chbice of their ministry is a description of an overwhelmingly personal process. The social context is a very poor second, and obedience to superiors is on the bottom of the list. The sisters were asked to rank the thirteen (or fourteen) items in order of importance to them personally in their own discernment activities. When we look at their first choices, we See that272 sisters (69.6%) base their discernment of God's will on processes that are basically personal, isolated, Discernment of Spirits in the Choice of Ministry / 1273 an individualistic. Forty-six sisters (11.6%) focus on social processes, and 14 sisters (3.5%) use authority-related processes. If we look, not just at first choices, but at the sisters' first three choices, the same general pattern persists, except that both authority-related and social processes do a little better. Out of 1188 responses (396 sisters × 3 choices) 7.9% are authority-related, 26.2% are social, and 53.5% are personal. The Content of Discernment The sisters who responded to the survey were asked to name specifically the ministry they expected realistically to be engaged in twenty months later, the ministry they would ideally prefer to be engaged in at that time, and the reasons for each of these choices. The questions on their reasons listed twelve items as possible answers and left the thirteenth space ("other") for expressing still another reason. Three of the alternative responses can be described as work-oriented (namely: "I f~el that position would make best use of my training," "I like that type of work," and "I am ready for another career"); three can be described as personal (namely: "my health makes it the best clioice for me," "I feel obligated by family circumstances to choose that position," and "I don't feel ready to undertake a move at this time"); three are situational (namely: "I would like to retire," "I like the living situation that goes with that position," and "I like the kind if clientele I would be serving in that position"), and three are congregational (namely: "I want to work with a group of sisters of this congregation," "I feel per-sonal loyalty to the position as a commitment of this congregation," and "I feel it is my duty to the congregation to fill that position"). The differences between the reasons the sisters gave for their choices indicate that the content of their discernment is overwhelmingly work-oriented. Looking at the sisters' first reasons only, we see that 37.2% named one of the work-oriented reasons first, 18.6% named congregational reasons, 12.4% had situational reasons, and 6.9% had personal reasons. If we con-sider the sisters' first three reasons for their projections and preferences, we find that 33.7% of the reasons given were work-oriented, 18.8% were sit-uational, 15% were congregational, and 5.7% were personal. Problems Arising from the Data From a sociological point of view, the data on the process of discern-ment in choice of ministry do not bode well for the viability of religious community. It might be serious merely to have discovered that obedience to a common authority is no longer of major importance in determining what the members of a religious community do with their lives. What is more serious is the discovery that the religious perceive the process they go through as so thoroughly personal, isolated, and individualistic. Serious 1274 / Review ]or Religious,' Volume 33, 1974/6 questions are suggested by these findings for both the community and the individual religious. From the point of view of the community (house, province, or entire congregation), the questions center on planning and even survival. What does it mean for any organization, religious or not, if the individual members see themselves as isolated and alone when it comes to deciding what to do with their lives, how to behave from day to day, and what their aspirations are? I am not referring here to the matter of obedience to authority; I am referring primarily to the fact that the religious do not see themselves as making decisions in response to their fellow religious, to the people whom they are sent to serve, or to the historical and social conditions of the world they are called to serve. From the point of view of the individual religious, the questions are of a more psychological nature. They come down to the difficulty of working out a meaning for the life she is leading. Traditional religious life, with its customs, rule, obedience, and so forth, did have advantage of a very clear meaning for most of its adherents most of the time. As these traditions have changed in response to the new respect for the person and for individual responsibility, the clarity of the meaning of religious life for the individual has been clouded. Now each religious is in the position of having to inte-grate into a coherent meaning system the apparently contradictory styles of corporatism and personalism, of commitment and freedom, of choice of ministry and responsible group membership. That integration is not easy. By contrast, the data on the content of the religious discernment in the choice of ministry seem much less problematic. The high degree of emphasis placed on work-oriented considerations suggests a professionalism that an outsider can only admire. Likewise, there is a solid (though much smaller) group that giv~es primary consideration to the needs and responsibilities of the religious institute. However, the strong emphasis on work, which suggests professionalism, does reinforce the problems already mentioned. Professional attitudes have consistently been found to be correlated with the need for personal auton-omy and independence; and whenever the latter qualities are found in any kind of corporate organization, they aggravate the tension between the needs of the organization and those of its individual members. Suggestions for Solutions It may very well be that, for those institutes which have established it, choice of ministry was an organizational mistake. Nevertheless, it seems to be firmly entrenched and destined to spread, so solutions to the problems of corporate unity and individual meaning must be found that are com-patible with it. I suggest that there are two general directions in which partial solutions may be found. The first direction goes to the process of discernment and concerns its Discernment o[ Spirits in the Choice of Ministry / 1275 formalization. The clear evidence that religious perceive their own discern-ment procedures to be isolated and individualistic suggests the need for instituting relatively formal and structured social procedures to be made available to all individual religious who are faced with a choice-of-ministry decision. These procedures should involve the participation of a variety of other persons: perhaps a few representatives of the province or congrega-tion, representatives of the ministries the individual is considering and of the one she is leaving, and a few close friends. If the individual should elect to go through such a formal procedure with a group like that, it would widen the perspecti~'e from which she views her choice and would lessen the isolation she feels in making it. The second direction goes to the content of discernment and concerns the introduction of a broader scope of factors to be considered in making choices. Since the evidence we have suggests a high degree of profession-alism which will likely be accompanied by increasing independence from the institute, a partial solution lies in keeping considerations of the institute's needs and responsibilities in the individual's consciousness. One practical way of doing that is the mechanism of communications from particular houses or works to the whole province or institute. Province newsletters, helpful as they are in many other respects, cannot satisfy this point: local communities and groups themselves must do the communicating. Further, these communications should avoid at all costs being theoretical, propa-gandistic, or complex, and should strive instead to be concrete and anecdotal, newsy, personal, and simple. Both these suggested solutions, of course, derive from the same funda-mental truth of social organization: as any group undergoes change in its traditional way of life, the greatest danger it faces is disunity and conse-quent disintegration. To avoid that, deliberate, even self-conscious steps must be taken to make concrete and real in the lives of individual members their membership in a corporate group. On Praying and Being Human: Reflections on the Anthropological Value of Prayer Eric Doyle, O.F.M. Father Eric Doyle, O.F.M., is a member, of the faculty of the Franciscan Study Cen-tre; University of Kent; Canterbury, Kent CT2 7NA; England. Introduction This article contains reflections on the activity we call prayer in terms of its anthropological value. Such an approach is possible because of the prior anthropological character of revelation, faith, and theology. Since there are two key concepts involved in these reflections, namely, anthropology and prayer, the articl~ has been divided into two major parts. The reason for presenting these reflections in a review intended principally for religious will be clear from the content of the first part of the article. I Christology and Anlhropology The Christological doctrine of the Church, if correctly understood, is the most radical and authentic anthropology the world has ever known. In the historical event which is the life, death, and glorification of the Man, Jesus of Nazareth, the Church has the source and center of everything that she knows and can ever know about God and man. Because He is the Incarnate Son of the Eternal God, Jesus of Nazareth discloses to us in the very reality of His own humanity who God is, what God is like; and this is expressed in its most original form by the words "Father" and "Forgiving Love." In the same way He reveals what it means to be man: the being in the world who is called in the innermost depths of his historical existence 1276 On Praying and Being Human / 1277 to surrender himself unconditionally to the will of God, as to his destiny, in faith, hope, and love. This is not to argue that the Church has nothing to learn about man from the historical, positive, and natural sciences or that she can ignore the teachings of psychology, psychotherapy, and sociology. What we are asserting here is that the Church has a point of reference for all that can be known about man and that point of reference is Christ who allows her to grasp the ultimate depth of meaning of anything that may be discovered about man. From this source and center there is one truth which the Church knows with infallible certitude, the truth namely, that God Himself is the guarantee of man's humanity. To surrender oneself to God is to arrive at one's own unique humanity. The process of growth in the relationship with God--a relationship established by grace which div-inizes and therefore humanizes man in his historical existence--is a process of drawing ever closer to the Origin of humanity itself and thus of becoming more authentically human. When the Church speaks of God, in virtue of the very word she utters, she says something about man; when she speaks of man in the light of the grace she has received in her Savior and Lord, she proclaims also a word about God. The Church's Doctrine of Man This essentially anthropological and authentically human orientation of the word she proclaims is the primary reason why the Church has a right to address herself to the world of today and to the men of our time. Above all, it is the foundation of her right to establish educational institutes of every kind and at every level--primary, secondary, and tertiary and of the right to present herself ready before the authorities of State and religiously "neutral" universities and other higher institutes of education, to form theo-logical faculties. She possesses a doctrine about man which has the courage to speak about his multi-dimensional nature and this doctrine is worthy of a hearing wherever and whenever men come together to pool their re-sources in order to grapple with the question of what it means to be human. It is true, of course, that this anthropological character of her word, her faith, and her theology has not always been apparent. Moreover, many people share the conviction that believers in God and especially theologians, are desperately concerned with some ideal world far removed from the stark realities of day-to-day life. Indeed, one still stumbles across the vulgar prejudice that theologians as a breed pass their time hairsplitting and jug-gling with ideas, oblivious of the world going on around them and even indifferent to its concerns. How far this idea corresponds to reality is, I suppose, a matter for some debate. In any case that it is now a figment of misinformed minds and has been for a good number of years will be obvious to anyone familiar with the development of theology in our times. It is incumbent upon us all who believe in the universality of the revelation of God in Jesus Christ who is Lord, to do all in our power to dispel these 1278 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 false notions and gross misunderstandings by the quality of our lives, the extent of our concerns, and the intellectual honesty, rigor, integrity, and high calibre of our theology. Christian Anthropology and Dialogue with the World The radically historical character of the Church's faith, in virtue of which she constantly returns to the life of the Man, Jesus of Nazareth, formally distinguishes the content of the Christian Gospel from all mytho-logical worldviews and explanations of the meaning of man. The doctrine of the historical incarnation of the Son must have a paramount place in all dialogue with atheists, anonymous Christians, and implicit believers. If we prescind for the moment from the source of the Church's belief in this doctrine, namely the gratuitous love of the Immortal God for mankind and concentrate on the content of the assertion as de facto held by com.- mitted Christian believers, we can make it our point of departure in the dialogue that we for our part are paying the highest possible tribute to .human dignity. The content of this assertion is that the being whom the human race calls God, the Supreme Being, is held to be present to and united with this Man who lived out a human life like other men and who reached His destiny in total fidelity to His own humanity and this in such a way that His humanity was not impaired or in any way abolished, but on the contrary.was radically realized as itself in its own true and authentic nature. The implications of this assertion for an understanding of man demand analysis precisely because of the influence that the content of this assertion has on the lives, outlook, and activity of a significant number of people today who own the name Christian, because of the history of the Church's understanding of this assertion, and because it is an essential ele-ment of the assertion that Jesus is most truly a man. The assertion cannot be dismissed simply by the shabby argument of "projectionism" firstly be-cause of the historically conditioned existence of this man and secondly because the assertion holds in its dialectic that by the vei'y fact that God is here, Jesus of Nazareth is the realization of what it means to be human. Revelation and Christological Anthropology This anthropological orientation of Christology must have priority also among Christian believers. This is the case not only that they may be able to present an intelligible account of the meaning of their faith to a largely sceptical and unbelieving world, but because it is part of the revelation itself. God's word and His grace are the foundation of authentic and integral hu-manity so that without Him we cannot be truly human at all. The anthro-pological orientation of Christology, therefgre, is in no way a betrayal of the specifically supernatural character of Christian revelation nor can it be suspected of reducing this revelation to a subtle form of humanism. Theo-logical science is not committed to answering riddles or solving problems in On Praying and Being Human / 1279 the manner of the positive and natural sciences. Its purpose in every age is to strive to understand man as he is and as he is becoming, in his finitude and openness as the being made in the image of God and called by God to share the divine life. This is an ongoing process which is always new and never exhausted. No matter howmuch more knowledge may be accumulated by man in the future, no matter how many more secrets may be wrested from nature, man will be always the being in history who is open to God and capable of receiving the treasures of divine grace. This would still be the case even in the condition of the world where the vast majority of mankind had ceased to have any belief in God at all. Leaving aside what might be said about such a state of affairs from a purely phenomenological standpoint, we would still have to proclaim that we have Christ's word in hope that He will be with us to the end. Though this word gives no guarantee about numerical quantity--and at present it does seem that the number of explicit believers is growing less--it is the sure basis that the Church will not disappear from the face of the earth and that the remnant will remain on behalf of the nations. Renewal in lhe Church What is written in these pages about prayer applies to every Christian believer and, for that matter, to any man who prays, as distinct from some-one who merely uses a method or follows a system in order to arrive at inner equilibrium. My reflections, however, are addressed specifically to religious in the Church and this for a number of important reasons. It is my belief that the renewal of the religious life is only now beginning to move out of its-preparatory stages. This is also true of the Church in general. The last ten years since the final session of the Second Vatican Council have been a time of re-assessment, of preparing the ground, of hammering out principles, and of establishing priorities. Much has been achieved, but there is quite an amount left to be done. Let us take one example: developments in ecclesiology. The Church has come to a deeper awareness of her own nature as a community of believers in the world. This community is founded on the gift of God's grace of unity which is logically prior to its every expression in faith, worship, life, and order. This awareness of the Church's nature as a community has had repercussions in every area of the Church's life. It has raised questions at the practical level which are by no means yet answered. For example: What do we mean by "community" when applied to the Church in general and when we use it of a local group in the Church? What is the relationship between a territorial parish as realized at present and the theology of the local community in terms of a constantly shifting population? How does liturgical celebration reflect and foster the presence of community? Should diocesan priests be scattered over a multiplicity of parishes in a town or area of a city where they are compelled to live alone or in groups of no more than two or three or should they work to establish 1280 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 a form of community life that is specifically priestly and not just a limp copy of religious life? If they were to live a much more realistic community life, how would they serve and retain contact with the people of those areas where once a priest was resident? What are the consequences for eschatology of this awareness of the Church as community? In what sense is "heaven" heaven before the Parousia of Christ? What is the relationship between a local parochial community and the community of a religious order in the parish? These are some of the questions that require us to reflect again on what may have appeared to us once as unchangeable structures and beliefs. A similar list might be drawn up with direct reference to the religious life. Enough has been said, however, to demonstrate that we ought not to allow ourselves to be lulled into thinking that the renewal is achieved and that we can now slacken our efforts. Religious and Spiritual Direction Religious life, as I have said elsewhere in this Review,1 is an indispens-able (not to say essentia!!) element in the life of the Church. If I read the signs of the times aright, then it seems to me that in the future members of religious order and congregations of men and women (I prescind here al-together from the question of the ordination of women, though it is by no means irrelevant to the point under discussion) are destined in the provi-dence of God to assume an ever greater if not the maximum responsibility for spiritual direction. This will be one of the finest fruits of the renewal of the religious life in the Church. It is already the case that people approach religious (and let us admit it quite simply and candidly that they approach us precisely as religious, that is, as those in the Church who publicly profess the evangelical counsels, however unthematic and even hazy their expression of this may be) with their questions or problems or mysteries and they rightly expect us to bring a spiritual dimension into the situation they present to us. They have the right to expect this of us for the simple reason that we are presumed to know something about the workings of divine grace in human life. After all, we have behind us the years we have spent in religious life with all the experiences of reflection and prayer that these years have provided--and we must not forget that it is the Church and God's grace, more than ourselves, that have made this possible. Moreover, we were called by God to the religious life for the sake of the Church. Psychotherapy and Spiritual Direction In emphasizing the importance of spiritual direction I am not denying nor even playing down the place of psychotherapy. Carl Jung has furnished us with more than enough evidence of how dangerous and uninformed such aErie Doyle, O.F.M., "Reflections on the Theology of Religious Life," Review ]or Re-ligious, v. 32 (1973), pp. 1258-60. On Praying and Being Human / 1281 an outlook is. Indeed, every religious, but especially those engaged in any form of apostolic work ought to read his profound and, in some ways, disturbing'essay, "Psychotherapists or the Clergy." Much of what he has to say about the attitude of the doctor may be applied without qualification to spiritual directors. One passage will suffice to demonstrate this. Speaking of the requirements in a doctor who wants to offer guidance to another he writes: We can get in touch with another person only by an attitude of unprejudiced objectivity . It is a human quality--a kind of deep respect for facts and events and for the person who suffers from them--a respect for the secret of such a human life. The truly religious person has this attitude. He knows that God has brought all sorts of strange and inconceivable things to pass, and seeks in the most curious ways to enter a man's heart. He therefore senses in everything the unseen presence of the divine will. This is what I mean by "unprejudiced objectivity." It is a moral achievement on the part of the doc-tor, who ought not to let himself be repelled by illness and corruption. We cannot change anything unless we accept it. Condemnation does not liberate, it oppresses. 1 am the oppressor of the person I condemn, not his friend and fellow-sufferer. I do not in the least mean to say that we must never pass judgment in the cases of persons whom we desire to help and improve. But if the doctor wishes to help a human being he must be able to accept him as he is. And he can do this in reality only when he has already seen and accepted himself as he is.'-' These words reminded me of a passage in the Rule of St. Francis of Assisi which, for all practical purposes, says exactly the same: "And they [the Ministers] must take care not to be angry or agitated on account of anyone's sin because anger and agitatiofi hinder charity in themselves and in others.":' The spirit and the psyche are intimately connected and any religious who bears the responsibility now or will do so in years to come would be well advised to acquire a basic knowledge of the principles and methods of psychotherapy. What I am anxious to stress in this context, however, is that spiritual direction exists in its own right and to imagine that it can be simply replaced by psychotherapy is patent nonsense. It would be as foolish to reduce spiritual direction to psychotherapy as it would be to hold that a glandular extract will cure a neurosis." New Forms of Prayer The new forms of community prayer, the sharing of experiences of God, the openness and sympathy in communicating joys and sorrows, emptiness '-'C. G. Jung, "Psychotherapists or the Clergy," in Modern Man in Search o] a Soul, trs. by W. S. Dell and Cary F. Baynes (New York: Harcourt, Brace and World, 1933), pp. 234-5. aRule o] St. Francis, Chapter 5. 4See Jung "'Psychotherapists," pp. 223-3. 1282 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 and fullness, darkness and light experienced in the spiritual life are also providential in regard to this matter of religious and spiritual direction. It is a well-known fact that religious, especially in the United States df America and, to a much lesser extent, elsewhere, are leaders in these new forms of common prayer and this highly desirable openness in sharing with others one's experiences of God. All this has served to bring home to many religious the fundamental reason why they came to religious life, namely, to love and praise the Living God, His Son, and the Holy Spirit and to love and serve the brethren of that Son throughout their entire lives. The actual sharing of these experiences .teaches, as no book can, how God intervenes in a person's life, how His blessed grace renews people in the hidden depths of their being, how the Holy Spirit of God guides and enlightens people in the midst of the most humdrum and monotonous daily lives. I know from my own experience that listening to another person speaking about God's presence in daily life can actually become an experience of thd presence of God for the listener. Religious and Theological Formation The mushroom growth in the numbers of religious who are pursuing theological studies is also providential and here again the United States has the lead. So many of these religious are involved in education and formation at various levels and there are many of these who belong to the Charismatic Renewal Movement. One must be careful, therefore, not to brand this Movement generally as anti-intellectual. Of course the beast of anti-intellectualism shows its ugly head periodically in the history of the Church and these are areas where it is raising its head at the moment. Experience itself teaches unequivocally, however, that a solid theological formation is an essential requisite for spiritual direction. Indeed, ! would go so far as to say as a general rule, that without a protracted period of theological formation no one should dare to assume the responsibility of spiritual direction at all. By theological formation I mean a formation that is firmly rooted in the Church's tradition of theological reflection and not confused with "fashion-theology" which arrogates to itself the titles "exis-tential" and "personal," shifts its point of reference with every "new" issue and is as ephemeral as it is superficial. This awareness among so many religious of the necessity of a theological formation is born of the sound intuition that pietism, fundamentalism, emotionalism, and comforting plati-tudes just will not suffice for the apostolate of spiritual direction. All theo-logical endeavor is subservient to the faith and the Word of God and can never be an end in itself. In accord with the signs of the times, as they appear at least to me, we may say more specifically that the current widespread pursuit of theological formation among religious is directed towards achieving a greater competence~in spiritual direction the responsibility for which, as we have already said, religious will assume increasingly at every On Praying and Being Human / 1283 level of the Church's life and, for that matter, outside the body of committed Christian believers. The Experience of God It is obvious also that religious will have to be more prepared and willing to speak to those who come to them for this kind of direction and counsel about the experience of God in their lives and this without embar-rassment, but with courage and humility. Such openness is desirable and necessary not only because it will aid committed believers to recognize God's presence in their own lives, but also because of its witness value and the salutary effect it has on non-believers, sceptics, and the doubtful: Just as a solid theological formation furnishes the believer with the means of present-, ing an intelligible account of the faith and of giving reasons for accepting the Christian revelation which forbid the non-believer to dismiss the Chris-tian as a hoodwinked fool--even when no "proof" is forthcoming for what is believed, so also the readiness to speak in humility and honesty of the workings of God's grace and the experience of His presence in one's life, demonstrates that the believer is not someone merely committed to repeating intellectual propositions and to presenting the "party line," but a person made more human by the grace of God, which forbids the non-believer to brush religion aside as having no relation to concrete human existence. What has been suggested above about the increasing responsibility for spiritual direction on the part of religious takes on added seriousness in the light of the following passage from Jung's essay already mentioned above. It should be emphasized that what he writes is the result of his own researches: I should like to call attention to the following facts. During the past thirty years, people from all the civilized countries of the earth have consulted me. I have treated many hundreds of patients, the larger number being Protes-tants, a smaller number of Jews, and not more than five or six believing Catholics. Among all my patients in the second half of life--that is to say¢ over thirty-five--there has not been one whose problem in the last resort was not that of finding a religious outlook on life. It is safe to say that every one of them fell ill because he had lost that which the living religions of every age have given to their followers, and none of them has'been really healed who did not regain his religious outlook. This of course has nothing whatever to do with a particular creed or membership of a church.:, With the principle of the anthropological character of the Christian revelation briefly established, we may now turn to the anthropological value of prayer. Jung pointed out, as we have already quoted, that a doctor can only accept a human being as he is "when he has already seen and accepted himself as he is."" We noted that this may be applied without qualification 1284 / Review [or Religiot~s, Volume 33, 1974/6 to spiritual directors. What we have to say from here onward can be taken as a commentary on this text as applied to the spiritual director. Our reflections belong, of course, to another dimension where science ends, but it is a dimension of human existence brought to be by the grace and the love of God. To direct and counsel another human being in the ways of God requires experience, personal prayer, theological formation, and some knowledge of the teaching of the classical author~ of spiritual theology. We are concerned here with one aspect of one of these requisites, namely, the humanizing power of prayer. By prayer one learns to accept oneself before God. The spiritual director must have already seen himself as he is before God and ~iccepted what he has seen. II. Praying and Being Thomas of Celano, the most famous biographer of St. Francis of Assisi, describing the Saint at prayer, tells us that "all his attention and affection he directed with his whole being to the one thing he was asking of the Lord, not so much praying, as becoming himself a prayer.''r This description serves to emphasize the principal point of these reflections: that prayer is not primarily saying something but being someone in virtue of a relationship with God Who is ever-present everywhere in the totality of His Being. The purpose of all prayer, be it liturgical, public, corporate, personal, vocal, or silent, is to deepen our union with God. It is essentially a relationship of union with God, made possible by God Himself who, in absolute freedom and pure loving kindness, bridges the infinite gulf that separates us in our creaturehood from Him the Sovereign Lord and Creator of the universe. In this relationship we draw ever nearer to Him and the nearer we are to Him, the more do we become like Him. The more we become like Him, the more are we made truly ourselves. We already have some faint notion of this on the ordinary principles of the Creator/creature relationship. In every man there is a desire, a longing--however it may be expressed--to reach the Source whence he came and to which he must inevitably return. Our cer-tainty in the matter, however, is given uniquely in the doctrine of the Incar-nation. Jesus Christ is the truest man, the most authentically human man who ever walked our earth. Jesus Christ the Man There has been great emphasis in recent times on the humanity of Christ and we have been advised frequently to throw off the shackles of the fear of Arianism. While this is a most desirable development in Christology, rThom~s de Ce,lano, I/ita secunda s. Francisi, 95, Analecta iranciscana, v. X (Flor-ence, 1941), p. 187: "Omenm sic et intuitum et affectum in unam quam petebat a Domino dirigebat, totus non tam orans quam oratio factus." On Praying and Being Human / 1285 we need to be on our guard constantly against any form of reductionism that would make Him no more than a particularly good man among men in the world. Nor should we forget that for Arianism not only was Jesus not God, he was not really man either, since the Logos (understood to be the first, the highest, and the noblest of God's creatures) was made flesh by taking the place of the soul in the man Jesus. What we need to stress now is that because Jesus Christ is God-made-man, he is more human than any man. In His humanity Jesus is set apart in His aloneness (not to be confused with loneliness), though He is not separated from us, precisely because He is so truly, so radically, so authentically, and so devastatingly human. Prayer and Human Life There is nothing that can make a man more himself than the constant effort to deepen his relationship with God by loving the divine will and living in the divine presence. The kind of response a man makes to the divinely-given awareness of the Blessed Mystery who is God, who penetrates every fiber of our existence, radically determines the type of person he is. Prayer is not some optional extra in our lives, not some purely peripheral activity out on the fringe of the real business of our concrete, practical monotonous day-to-day occupations, not a luxury for those with time to spare. Prayer is an indispensable element in our relationship with God springing from the trancendent dimension of human existence, without which nothing in our lives can ultimately have any lasting value or validity. This is the chief reason why those who hold that it is not necessary to pray if one works generously and devotedly for others, support a fundamentally anti-human doctrine. We know, of course, that there is a true sense in which to work is to pray, dependent on consciously attending to the things of God. But as anyone knows who has spent protracted periods in the active apostolate, work sooner or later begins to lose its attraction and become a boring burden. It is then that one understands the power and value of prayer: Without prayer there is s6on no work at all. Man is the being in the world who is becoming. He finds himself plunged into the flow of existence that is steadily making its way to a term. When he comes to ask himself the questions What is man? and Who am I? he discovers he is limited and finite, on the one hand and always something more, something beyond what he has thus far experienced, on the other. If the Source and Center of all existence is not somehow a factor in his becoming, then a man will never be human or r~ally himself at all. There is an area of mystery in every man at the core of which is an openness to God, the All-Holy One, who calls out to him from His own blessed eternity. Homo sapiens, the being who finds truth and reality not only outside him-self, but in the inner depths of his own being, must also be homo orans. If he is not the latter, then he will slip back into being no more than homo 1286 / Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 sciens--and knowledge only puffs up, wisdom it is that builds up. Man must progress from homo sapiens to homo amahs by being homo orans, that is to say, by praying a man becomes himself a prayer. Belief and the Existence of God The Eternal God is the Absolute Other. He is ineffable in His being, uncontainable, incomprehensible, inconceivable, incomparable, inimitable, indescribable, without beginning and without end; He is the Immortal One. For the believer the existence of God is the most obvious thing in the world. God and His grace exist more truly than the world of sense objects and experience that surrounds us and makes us what we are. The believer knows that God exists more really than he does himself. Many people would claim that these are smug and arrogant assertions; others would listen wistfully, thinking to themselves: "How fortunate believers are to know with such certainty that there is after all something to cling to, something to give meaning to life; how blessed they are to feel that life is not in the end empty, pointless, and absurd." These reactions fail to appreciate all that is involved in belief in God. For it is only when God is accepted totally in faith that the real problems confront the believer and these are infinitely greater than the question of His existence. These problems arise from man's existence who as a believer finds himself faced with the absolute demands of God's existence. For once a man believes in God and lives by his faith in union with Him, he becomes aware sooner or later that this God is the Holy God. Unlike goodness, power, mercy, justice, beauty, truth, unity, and peace, holiness is a quality which is not immediately part of our experience. Holiness is a reality of another order altogether. In the faith encounter with God a man becomes aware that he is known in the inmost depths of his being. This encounter with God as the Holy One reveals the seriousness of existence and the responsibility a man bears for his existence in the world. From this arises the concomitant awareness of creaturehood which can cause a man to cry out to God in anguish: "What moved You in the depths of Your own eternal blessedness to bring my existence out of nothing?" In the anguish is the answer: "Love eternal called you out from nothing-ness" and in this answer a man knows that the source of his anguish is Love itself. The Holiness of God God is holy and He bears a holy Name (Ex 3:1-6; Jos 24:19-20; Is 6:1-3; Ez 36:16-36). The almost impossible truth is that He demands of us that we be h61y as He is holy: "Be holy for I, Yahweh your God, am holy" (Lev 19:4); "Yes it is I, Yahweh, who brought you out of Egypt to be .your God: you therefore must be holy because I am holy (Lev 11:45); "Be holy in all you do, since it is the Holy One who has called you, and scripture says Be holy for 1 am holy" (1 Pet 1 : 15). The holiness On Praying and Being Human / 1287 of God comes from His innermost Being which is separated from and utterly beyond everything that is finite and creaturely. God's holiness is not in the first place the opposite of sinfulness, immorality, and self-seeking-- though it includes the notion of moral holiness; it is rather the contrary of all that is not God Himself. God's holiness is the perfection of His Being which ineffably transcends everything created. In the fullness of His Being God is absolute identity between His Will and His Being. God is, simply and supremely. There can be no disparity, no contradiction between God's Being and God's Will: God is what He wills, He wills what He is. In His holiness lies the mystery of His Being, that is, the Mystery of what it is simply to be. God, then, is the Holy Mystery: Holy Source, Holy Wisdom, Holy Love--Holy Father, Holy Son and Holy "Spirit. God is the Mystery of the Thrice Holy One. God the Mysterium Tremendum et Fascinans The absolute identity of the Being of God evokes feelings of awe and reverence which go beyond the categories of the purely rational. Our utter creaturehood is revealed to us in the awareness of God's holiness and this revelation occurs in the deepest recesses of the soul. In His holiness, God is both terrible and attractive, the Mysterium at once tremendum and ]ascinans as Rudolf Otto has profoundly analyzed and described it? In the presence of the Holy God man is both afraid and not-afraid at one and the same time as Rat explained to Mole in The Wind in the Willows: Then suddenly the Mole felt a great Awe fall upon him. "Rat!" he found breath to whisper, shaking, "Are you afraid? . Afraid?" murmured the Rat, his eyes shining with unutterable love. "Afraid! of Him? 0, never, never! And yet---and yet--O, Mole, I am afraid!" Then the two animals, crouching to the earth, bowed their heads and did worship.~ God is the Rex tremendae maiestatis who is revealed to us as the one who is and, as such He is made known as utterly beyond us. As Pure Being He is so utterly other that when He is encountered in His holiness He inspires awe and reverential fear of necessity because as the Holy One He is unknown and precisely as holy is totally outside all previous experience. Were it not for Him we should not be able to sustain the awareness of Pure Being. Man experiences himself as divided and disorientated in his existence; there is always tension between his being and his willing, disparity and SR. Otto, The Idea o] the Holy: Apt Inquiry into the Non-rational Factor in the Idea o] the Divine and Its Relation to the Rational, trs. by John W. Harvey (Oxford: Oxford University, 1923). OK. Graham, The Wind in the Willows (London: Methuen Children's Books, 1972), pp. 92-3. 1288 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 open contradiction between what he is and what he wills. His being is fragmented and dissipated in its finitude and creatureliness. Yet God draws near to man; though He dwells in light inaccessible, He approaches man and reveals Himself as Holy Mystery and Divine Majesty. It is because He draws so close to us that we know Him to be totally other and utterly beyond us. A man is confronted with the truth of Pure Being and Total Unity and he is filled with awe and fear in the presence of such unambiguous simplicity. At the same time, however, this revelation of the holiness of God makes known to us that we are in some way like unto God. The meaning of having been created in the image of God is disclosed in all its wonder. Because He is One, the pure identity of being and willing, God is experi-enced as attractive, alluring and fascinating. In the absolute simplicity of His holy existence God is the fullness of reality. Man strives by the law of his being to be and to be more; he searches out and is drawn towards that which is to be most of all, most authentically and simply to be: the One who is the Holy Other and who lives forever. The Fidelity of the Holy God God the Holy One is revealed in the covenant wherein He pledges Him-self to man forever. Despite man's finitude, sinfulness, and ingratitude the covenant remains forever: "I will punish their sins with the rod and their crimes with the whip, but never withdraw my love from him or fail in my faithfulness. I will not break my covenant, I will not revoke my given word; I have sworn on my holiness, once for all, and cannot turn liar to David" (Ps 89:32-5). The fidelity of the Holy God evokes a personal attitude on the part of man which issues in adoration and establishes the foundation of true humility. In the presence of the Holy God man is made aware of who and what he is, not primarily of what he has done or has not done. God's holiness evokes an ontological attitude, one of being, not merely a moral or aesthetical attitude, which is brought about by the very presence of Pure Being and Simple Truth. The knowledge of God's holiness is what allows the man who arrives at it to integrate into his relationship with God the fact that he is a creature. The experience of the All'Holy God as the Mysterium tremendum et fascinans involves also an awareness of the absolute fidelity of God and of His total acceptance of a man as he is. This leads to self-acceptance as a creature and marks the beginning of the transformation into a new crea-ture. The realization comes that a man is known in the inmost depths of his being and this liberates him from the ambiguity of creaturely existence. Jesus Christ the Model of Prayer The unfathomable mystery of God the Holy One has been made known and drawn close to us. in the human life of the Man Jesus of Nazareth. Jesus On Praying and Being Human / 1289 Christ is the Father's Love which He will never take back; He is the Word that will never be revoked; He is the Covenant that will never be broken. In sending Jesus Christ to the world God has already accepted man and has already answered every prayer that might ever arise from a human heart. Since Christ is the foundation and center of the Christian life, it is only in contemplating Him that we can come to know what prayer means. We must now turn to Him whose life was itself an unbroken prayer to the Father. The pi-ayer of Christ is a favorite theme of the Gospel of St. Luke. He tells us that while Christ was praying after His baptism the Holy Spirit came down upon Him as a dove and a voice was heard from heaven: "You are my Son, the Beloved" (Lk 3:21). Again it was while at prayer that He was transfigured and a voice from heaven proclaimed: "This is my Son, the Chosen One" (Lk 9:28-,9). The foundation of Christ's prayer is the already established relationship with His Father, from which flow the desires of His will and the affections of His heart. Apart from the episodes where it is related that Christ went off to pray alone, St. Luke also tells us that Christ prayed in the presence of His disci-ples. This experience was one of the most treasured memories of the early Church: "Now one day when he was praying alone in the presence of his disciples he put this question to them 'Who do the crowds say I am' " (Lk 9: 18-9); "Now once he was in a certain place praying and when he had finished one of his disciples said, 'Lord teach us to pray just as John taught his disciples.' He said to them, 'Say this when you pray: Father, may your name be held holy' " (Lk 11:1-2). This must have been a frequent oc-currence in the disciples' experience, and it wasone they remembered in their preaching and one which the Church preserved for us in the Holy Scripture. There must have been something truly remarkable and unforget-table about the sight of Jesus at prayer. In the episode which records that He taught them the Our Father, the Evangelist states quite simply: He was in a certain place praying. It is not said that he was in ecstasy but simply that He was praying. It was evidently the sight of Jesus at prayer that moved them to ask .Him to teach them to do the same. What can have moved them to ask Him to teach them to pray? After all they were Jews and therefore familiar with pr.ayer.1° The daily life of the pious Jew was filled with a round of prayer. Yet all this had not taught them what the simple act of this man at prayer had called forth from the inner depths of their being. One can try to picture the sight of Jesus praying in the midst of His disciples and try to discover what made them ask Him to teach them to pray. Perhaps it was His serenity, the entire composure of His being; perhaps they wanted to get at what was going on in His heart and mind that made Him the kind of man He was. If we reflect a little on the passage ~"Joachim Jeremias, The Prayers o] Jesus (London: SCM, 1969). 1290 / Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 in Luke 11 : lff., the answer will be seen to lie in what He told them to pray: "Say this when you pray: Father, may your name be held holy . " He told them to say "Father." It was this that came to His lips without hesita-tion, quite simply and in utter confidence. Perhaps this was the very word He had been using when they saw Him at prayer. In any case, the word "Father" tells us almost everything we need to know about Jesus and it is the clue to what caused His disciples to ask Him to teach them how to pray. He taught them to say "Father." This familiar little word, which no con-temporary Jew would have dared to use of God, Jesus made the heart and soul of all prayer for ever. The Sublime Mystery of God, the Sovereign Creator of the universe, is addressed by this Man in a term so familiar that it can only be translated "Daddy." God is our "Abba." What the disciples experienced, therefore, was not so much a man saying something as being someone. They saw Jesus the Son, that is Jesus being totally Himself in the presence of the Most High God. In teaching the disciples His own prayer which expresses the intimate relationship He had with Gdd, Jesus revealed to us well-nigh everything about God: His kindness, His love, His tenderness, His mercy, His desire that we approach Him on the same intimate and familiar terms as did Jesus Himself. We will never be able to grasp what it means to address God as Father because this is one of the most staggering mysteries of the entire revelation we have received in Jesus Christ. We say this prayer very often in liturgical worship and in public and personal prayer. We must always be on our guard not to allow it to become no more than a mere jingle of words. The Church has always treasured this prayer of her Lord and she always will. It is a matter for some sadness that the translations of the Mass have rendered the introduction to the Our Father Praeceptis salutaribus moniti et divina institutione forrnati audemus dicere by the limp invitation "Let us pray with confidence to the Father . " This rendering fails abysmally to express the sense of privilege and utter distinctiveness that audemus dicere contains. In this prayer we are using the very words of Christ and we are allowed to do this for no other reason than that He taught us to address God in His words and He drew us into His relationship with the Sovereign Lord of life and death. This sense of privilege has been beauti-fully retained in the translations of the Divine Liturgy of St. John Chrysos-tom: "And make us worthy, Master, to dare with confidence and without condemnation to call You Father, O God of heaven, and to say: Our Father . -11 By divine grace, which is the life and love of God Himself, we are truly 11"The Divine and Holy Liturgy of Our Father among the Saints John Chrysostom," Byzantine Daily Worship (Alleluia Press, 1969), p. 288; see also "The Divine and Holy Liturgy of Our Father among the Saints Basil the Great," ibid, p. 336. See also K. Rahner, On Prayer (New York: Paulist. 1968), p. 20. On Praying and Being Human / 1291 made God's sons an'd daughters. Now in human adoption there is necessarily r~quired a likeness of nature--the mother and father must adopt a human being. There is, however, no likeness of nature between God and man. God brings it about by His own most holy grace and we become like Him and are thus His sons and daughters. Human adoption is purely external, dependent only on the will of the adopter. In divine adoption there is realized an internal change so that we are rightly said to be born of God. Finally, in human adoption in order to succeed to the goods of the adopter, the latter must die. In divine adoption God the Adopter is always the Living God and we receive the riches of His love and eternal life in the very act of adoption. In coming to the awareness of God's holiness we arrive also at the knowledge of our own creaturehood--we come to acknowledge who and what we are. The.Incarnation of the Son discloses to us that we are accepted by the Holy God to the degree, that He makes us His sons and daughters and, therefore, that we are a new creation in Christ Jesus our Lord. With these two fundamental principles before our mind we can now turn to their practical implications for the life of prayer. Prayer and Becoming Ourselves The Creator/creature relationship has been transformed and elevated by God's grace to the Father/Son relationship of an entirely new order. In His revealing Word God has made Himself known to us as He is and it is through His Word that all prayer is possible. There have been many definitions of prayer, the best known being "the raising of the mind and heart to God." Yet every one of them proceeds from and is intelligible only in terms of this fundamental relationship with God the Father, through Jesus Christ, in the Holy Spirit. The purpose of prayer, in all its modalities, is to lead us to conscious awareness and ever clearer recognition of the grace of being a son of God the Father. This grace is not an entity added to our natural being as spiritual creatures, but a radical assumption of our entire being by the love of God. It is a dimension of our human existence which God has brought into being. Prayer increases our awareness of divine adoption--Tthat is, of being this person before God the Father by reducing to conscious reflection this fundamental condition of our human existence. When we place ourselves in God's presence we are before the One who is at once our Creator and our Father. We are able to do this because He has loved us from before the foundation of the world. We are not the result of fate nor the plaything of chance, but unique, original persons called into existence by the creative act of God's most sovereignly free love. We were willed into existence by the love of God; we exist because God wants us, as ourselves, to exist. The Father saw us from all eternity in the face of His Christ and He always loved what He saw. The simple truths that God created us and allows us to address Him as Father, disclose to us that God 1292 / Review /or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 is Love, not only in Himself, but also to us. In this most radical, most basic sense God has already accepted us even before we are able to approach Him and it is this acceptance that makes any relationship with Him pos-sible. We must be careful, therefore, not to think of God as changing His "mood" towards us; He does not, because He cannot, grow hot and cold in our regard. We must not project our own changeability onto Him. God does not "spy" on us, He does not try to "catch" us. On the contrary, He gazes at us in His sovereign holiness from His blessed eternity and by this gaze conserves us in being. Through prayer we deepen the awareness of who and what we are in the very structure of our being and this is the primary reason why prayer is indispensable in self-development. Prayer and Self-acceptance The awareness of who and what we are before God also reveals to us the dark side of our spiritual nature. This is not a pure.ly psychological phenomenon; it has its origin in the mystery of iniquity. The refusal to admit this dark side of our being and the tendency to reduce the awful reality of sin to psychological disorders and cultural conditioning are among the chief causes of the spiritual sickness of our time. From the dark and sinful side of our nature proceeds the strange power which drives us to seek ourselves and to assert ourselves. Yet instead of bringing us to a uni-fied selfhood, this self-seeking and self-assertion have the contrary effect of splintering our being in multiplicity and of driving us into loneliness in the midst of the crowd. This dark and sinful side of our being must be acknowl-edged. We have all experienced the divided self; denial of it is itself a further proof of the division in ourselves. We wear so many masks and it is worth comment that the very word person which describes our uniqueness is derived from the Greek prosopon which originally meant a mask. Yes, we act, we play so many parts, we assume such varying roles according to the circumstances of persons, times, and places. In truth we are pretenders and hypocrites. And while we wear so many masks we are hiding from ourselves. In the midst of this frightening multiplicity we are unable to answer the question "Who am I?" So we run away from ourselves, we try to forget what we were yesterday and to convince ourselves that we really are ourselves today. We are disgusted because we are counterfeit and we try to lose ourselves in the feverish activities of our life of masquerade, while being driven further into the desert of loneliness, so that we dare not be alone. Emergence of the Real Self When we place ourselves in God's presence--and this means that all pretense ceases--we see ourselves in the light of God's Primordial Unity behind the masks that hide us. We recognize the multiplicity of our being. On Praying and Being Human / 1293 We see ourselves in the midst of all our pretense, hypocrisy, and acting. Yet the miracle is that we do not go mad, we do not commit suicide. In prayer the real self begins to emerge and with it and through it the deeper knowledge and conscious awareness that we are loved already and accepted; that is to say, we know God as Father and Forgiving Love. He has not condemned us, we are not oppressed. By the power and grace of His ac-ceptance we are able to accept ourselves; we no longer turn from ourselves in nausea and disgust. From the moment of self-acceptance the process of unification of our being has begun. Furthermore, this grace of self-accept-ance begins to make itself felt outside the formal moments of prayer. The real self begins to appear in our relationships with others so that we are no longer the victims of our changing environment. The masks begin to drop away to reveal the much more delightful, lovable, and authentic some-one who was hidden under the rubble of hypocrisy ,and pretense for so long. Self-acceptance, however, must not be thought to be recapitulation before our sinfulness nor passive resignation in the face of our divided being. It is the realization of ourselves as creatures of a Loving Creator and sons of a Tender Father which defines our inmost being and which allows the absolutely unique, never-to-be-repeated, utterly original someone who we are to emerge from the depths of our being. With this comes the concomi-tant awareness of the uniqueness of others. Even in the act of speaking to another person we become more and more aware of the love of God and we are no longer afraid to let another look into our eyes. Self-acceptance through prayer brings recognition of one's dignity as creature and son of God. As creature we realize we owe to God our adora-tion, thanksgiving, praise, worship, and honor; as sons we know we owe Him our love. To love God with all our heart, our mind, our soul, and our strength--this is our dignity in the world as sons of God. Once we have learned this self-acceptance we will never be lonely again. Rather, we become conscious of our aloneness in the world which is part of our uniqueness. This brings with it a longing to be alone whenever life will allow us in the midst of all our duties, responsibilities, and work. These moments alone will be amongst the most blessed in our life, for they will be spent in the presence of our Creator and Father before whom, with whom, and in whom we will be most truly ourselves. Prayer and True Self-love Self-acceptance through prayer leads gradually to a true self-love. After a time God reveals to the man who prays that He does really want the love of the human heart. This brings us, of course, to the center of the mystery of Divine Love. How is it possible that the Eternal God in the self-suffi-ciency of His Triune Blessedness should want the love of the human heart? And yet this is the simple and staggering truth of God's will for man. The knowledge of this truth reveals to us our dignity and worth before Him. 1294 / Review Jor Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 God wants the love of my heart. If I refuse it, then He will never have it, because no one can stand for another or take another's place in loving God. God's love of our love for Him brings us to a love of self which is born of the awareness of our uniqueness. Self-love, thus understood, will preserve a person from the frightful stupidity of wishing.he were someone else. When one examines the implications of this stupidity, which is the worst form of envy, it becomes apparent that it is the most awful act of ingratitude to God. For He has given every one of us at least one talent of being ourselves. If we have two or five talents besides, all to the good. But let us not ignore the one that is the most precious 'of all--ourselves. If we hide this talent or bury it under pretense and hypocrisy, if we while away our time in daydreams, wishing we were someone else, then we are ignoring not merely what we have, but actually who we are and there will be no interest at all on the day of reckoning! Moreover, if we recognize this" one talent and love it as a gift from God, then we will avoid all odious comparisons. For which is the fuller, a glass filled with water or a bucket filled with water? The fact that the bucket has more water than the glass is neither here nor there as far as the glass is concerned! Finally, true self-love brings with it the desire to be like God, that is, the longing for holiness. We do not mean a desire for the effects of holiness, but for unity of our being and our will. It is a longing for integrity, a longing to rid ourselves of the disparity between who we are and what we will and it is one of the most precious graces God grants to us. Integrity is not achieved at once, of course; it is the fruit of long effort and the constant practice of virtue. It demands a rooting out of all self-seeking which is hidden in the depths of our being. We will come back to this in a later section. Prayer and Listening It is not easy to be a lisfener. We often wait for what we want to hear, sometimes we do not listen at all. So often we imagine that our own words are far more important than anything we may hear. In conversations we find ourselves waiting for the other to stop talking so that we can cast forth our pearls and give voice to our wisdom! How sad all this is; for We probably say far more in the silence of really listening than by all the words that pour out when we talk. It is no fancy to describe prayer as listening. Not that this means hearing voices or having words whispered in our ear. Prayer is a listening to God, listening for the word which says "I love you." Fo

Issue 33.1 of the Review for Religious, 1974. ; Review ]or Religious is edited by faculty members of the School of Divinity of St. Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copy-right (~) 1974 by Review ]or Religious. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $1.75. Sub-scription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year; $11.00 for two years; other countries, $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be .accompanied by check or money order payable to Review ]or Religious in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent Review ]or Religious. Change of address requests should include former address. R. F. Smith, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor January 1974 Volume 33 Number 1 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to Review for Religious; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts, books for review, and materials for "Subject Bibliography for Religious" should be sent to Review for Religious; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19106. Review for Religious Volume 33, 1974 Editorial Offices 539 North Grand Boulevard Saint Louis, Missouri 63103 R. F. Smith, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Editor " Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Review ]or Religious is published in January, March, May, July, September, and November on the fifteenth of the month. It is indexed in the Catholic Periodical and Literature Index and in Book Review Index. A microfilm edi-tion of Review ]or Religious is available from University Microfilm; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Copyright (~ 1974 by Review for Religious. Documents concerning Religious The following are seven recent documents concerning religious given here in chronologi-cal order and in the English translation provided by the weekly English edition of L' osservatore romano. LETTER TO THE GENERAL OF THE JESUITS To Our Beloved Son PETER ARRUPE Superior General of the Society of Jesus On the solemn occasion of Easter last year you intimated to Us that you were thinking of calling a general congregation of your Society in the year 1974, whose task it would be to explore the most apt ways for the Society to per-form its work in the Church and in the world of today. Importance of the Congregation Our Venerable Brother, the Cardinal Secretary of State, replying in Our behalf,~sent you Our best wishes. Now that you have publicly annoUnced the general congregation, and the provincial congregations are soon to be held for the election of delega.tes and for the preparation of postulata to be proposed to the general congregation, We Ourselves because of the love We bear the Society wish to address Ourselves through this letter to you and your companions to encourage you and to send you Our best wishes for a happy outcome of the congrega.tion. For we are well aware of the great im-portance of convoking it at this time, which could be an hour of decision, so to speak, for the Society of Jesus, for its future destiny and for its task in Church, as it is also for other religious families. 4 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 This meeting is a sign--and We are happy to say so--that the Society of Jesus is making a great effort, in accordance with the aims of its institute, to adapt its life and its apostolate to the needs of today's world, which is so constantly and rapidly changing. The Mind ot Vatican II Your desire, in fact, corresponds with the norms of the Second Vatican Council, the proper and careful implementation of which We Ourselves are strenuously trying to attain. Indeed, the congregation is in accord with the opinion of the Council fathers who said: "Effective renewal and proper adap-tation cannot be achieved except with the cooperation of all the members of the institute" (Decr. Perfectae caritatis, 4). However, if that universal Synod was looking for renewal fitting the needs of the present, it did not want this to be brought about through a hazardous experimentation that might be alien to the very character of the religious family, or lead to an abandonment of the primary values of a life consecrated to God. No, it was the mind of that Synod that the common elements of religious life should be confirmed and that they should be allowed to grow and develop. These are: a following and imitation of Christ, "as proposed in the Gospel" (ibid., 2); a renuncia-tion of worldly things so that the religious might live for God alone and for the building up of the Church; a practice of all the human and Christian vir-tues, best achieved by a joyful and constant observance of the vows (cf. ibid., 5), which should lead to the heights of the spiritual life where sublime contemplation is joined with magnanimous action. In Our apostolic exhorta-tion "Evangelica testificatio," which We published later, We explained all this in more detail and dealt with it more fully, using it as a paternal invita-tion to all religious that "they might shed light among men, so that, when they see the good you do, they might give praise to the Father in heaven" (cf. Mt 5:16). The Society of Jesus, especially called to walk in the path of the follow-ing of Christ, should feel itself particularly impelled to review its style of life, testing it constantly in the light of the Gospel, according to the exhortations contained in the words and example of St. Ignatius. Let this be undertaken with a view to actually effecting the renewal begun at the instance of the Council, taking into account new circumstances and needs. This should be done, however, in accordance with the spirit of the Society of Jesus, that is, in fidelity to its tradition which is based on .Christ, on the Church, on St. Ignatius. Hence, that the preparation for the coming General Congregation may not be limited to organizational matters, but give to all the members of the Society of Jesus a proper orientation and win their full commitment to it, they will have to rehearse with penetrating insight, a clear grasp of reality, and a profound sense of duty those principles of the spiritual and apostolic life which for centuries formed, as it were, the very structure that held the Documents concerning Religious / 5 Society together, and which made it a most serviceable instrument for a pastoral, missionary, and educational apostolate involving cultural forma-tion of" the highest excellence. Those responsible for this accomplishment were a large group of men distinguished for holiness of life and love of neighbor. Sources of Strength The foundations of religious formation which were laid in the past should today, even under changed conditions, still be the source of strength of the Society of Jesus. They are: a diligent dedication to prayer, which "has its origin in the authentic sources of Christian spirituality" (cf. Decr. Per- [ectae caritatis, 6); an austerity of life, preventing a person from easily adopting that frame of mind which, casting aside that which is sacred, pre-vails in so many forms of contemporary life and practice; supernatural strength by which apostolic effectiveness is increased, and in the absence of which no action, no matter how excellent on the surface, can yield lasting fruit for the transformation of the human conscience; complete observance of the vows, especially obedience, which is peculiar to the Society and a condi-tion of its religious discipline by which its vigor was always preserved. Hence, there must be no attempt to introduce new methods of deliberation and deci-. sion-making that not only undermine the very notion of obedience, but alter the nature itself of the Society of Jesus. Finally, the ascetical value of com-munity life and the advantages it offers for the formation of character should be kept in mind. To these weighty principles We would also add in a very special manner the fidelity to the Apostolic See, whether in the area of studies and education of young scholastics, who are the hope of your order, or of the students at-tending the great number of schools and universities entrusted to the Society, or in the production and publication of writings aimed at a wide circle of readers, or in the exercise of the direct apostolate. Dangers to Essential Structure of the Order Nor are We ignorant of the fact that over the past few years in several parts of the Society--and it is by no means absent either from the life of the Church in general--certain tendencies have arisen of an intellectual and dis-ciplinary nature which, if fostered and given support, could lead to serious and possibly irreparable changes in the essential structure itself of your So-ciety. As you know, Beloved Son, we have through Our closest collaborators called your attention more than once to these matters, while expressing the hope that the expected renewal will be brought about securely and smoothly. Therefore, on the occasion of the announcement of the gen-eral congregation We express once again Our desire, indeed Our demand, that the Society of Jesus should adapt its life and apostolate to today's con-ditions and needs in such a way that confirmation be given to its characteris- 6 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 tics as a religious, apostolic, priestly Order, linked to the Roman Pontiff by a special bond of love and service, as ratified in the "Formula of the Institute" or fundamental rule of this same Society, approved and repeatedly confirmed by Our predecessors. In the adaptation of which We .speak, experience will be your teacher. It will show what concrete forms of life and action have now become irrelevant and outdated, and what new needs and opportunities pre-sent themselves of work to be undertaken or directed according to the mind of Christ and the nature of the apostolate. We also hope that in the preparation for the general congregation, and later when it is in session, all the religious will be intent on the good of the Society, united in that charity required by your Founder, whose voice can still somehow be heard, in your Constitutions: "Union and agreement among all ought to be sought with great care, and the opposite ought not to be per-mitted; in order that, being united among themselves by the bond of fraternal charity, they may be able better and more efficaciously to apply themselves in the service of God and the aid of their fellowmen" (P.III, c.l, n.18). Final Thoughts~ and Suggestions These,, then, are Our wishes; that they may be heeded we pray to ,the Virgin Mother of God, Queen and Mother of the Society of Jesus; may she support it with counsel, strengthening goodwill, stirring up hearts, and in-spiring all the religious to ever more zealously imitate the Divine Savior in their task of constantly and courageously establishing His reign. What we have written should show you and your companions what is ex-pected of you by Us, who know well what influence the Society of Jesus has, what the task is that it has to fulfill, what confidence it enjoys; all this must be carefully considered, both with respect to the Society itself and with respect to the Church. We wish you to inform your collaborators and all the members of the Society of Jesus of this message, so that each one may see the witness of Our paternal benevolence and of the concern We have for the future destiny of the same Society. For We are convinced that the more faithfully the sons of St. ignatius conserve the Ignatian charism as it appears in the principle docu-ments of the institute, the more effectively will they pursue the glorious work of evangelizing today's world according to their God-given vocation, emulat-ing the example of so many Jesuits who consistently tried-~--and We use the words of St. Ignatius--"to distinguish themselves in the total service of their eternal King and universal Lord" (Spit. Ex., II week). Having made known in writing what is in Our heart, We gladly impart to you and to the whole Society of Jesus the Apostolic Blessing as an'augury of the divine assistance. ~ " From the Vatican, the fifteenth of September, 1973, the eleventh year of Our Pontificate. PAUL VI Documents concerning Religious "/ 7 LETTER ON ST. BRIDGET OF SWEDEN To Our Venerable Brother JOHN E. TAYLOR Bishop of Stockholm In this year marking the sixth centenary of her death, honor is rightly paid to St: Bridget, Flowei" of the North, and rightly are the faithful exhorted to direct their thoughts, with fresh° enthusiasm, so to speak, to the spiritual beauty of this heavenly one, as her memory is being solemnly recalled to mind. This chosen woman had a double fatherland: Sweden, where she was born at the beginning of the 14th century and Rome, where she spent nearly 20 years, and where after her return from a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, she de-parted ripe for heaven, to the eternal Jerusalem, on the 23rd day of July, in the year 1373. ~ In that northern region to which the devout mind turns with heightened eagerness on this occasion, the ecclesiastical life was at that time in a fluorishing state, particularly because the Cistercian monks and after them the mendicant orders had introduced a piety that was well adapted to the people. For nurturing this piety, devout pilgrimages, to which Christians were much given, proved very effective. And' when the Scandinavians ad-venturously and with devotion and enthusiasm betook themselves to the holy places:in distant parts of the world, they, as it were,°exchanged spiritual riches with other brethren in Christ whom they met and also experienced in a vital way the unity.of the body of the Church. Wife and Mother Such were the times in which Bridget grew to womanhood. Although she desired to consecrate her virginity to God, she was thwarted in her desire of a Divine Spouse. In,submission to the will of her father, she married Ulf Gudmarsson, an excellent man. As wife and mother she was a shining ex-ample; she lived united to her husband by the bond of Christian love andsh~ reared her' eight 6hildren with discerning wisdom; that is to say, she wished them to grow up to be not only good citizens of their fatherland, but also servants and children of God. And so it came about that the seeds of religious vocation came?to flower among her offspring. Indeed, her second daughter, Catherine, with the aid ofdivine grace reached the heights of sancity. Nor may ewe neglect to mention the charity of St. Bridget lavished on the mem-bers of Christ suffering from poverty or other distress. Following a pious pilgrimage they had made together to the Shrine of St. James at Compostella, Bridget's husband entered a Cistercian monas-tery and soon after he died there. Whereupon Bridget, having set her domes-tic affairs in order, devoted herself entirely to the ascetical life and prepared for her own flights to God, by whom she wa~ richly favored with mystical 8 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 gifts. During the two years in which she lived in a retired place near the monastery where her husband Ulf had withdrawn from the world, she was inspired by Christ with the resolve to found a new Order to be named for our Divine Savior, in honor of Mary the Virgin Mother of God. There would be double monasteries housing in separate buildings men and women who had,freed themselves for divine pursuits, but they would constitute onecom-munity, as it were, gathered together in God's name. This order, whose rule Our Predecessor Urban V approved in 1370, began with the foundation called Vadstena. Spiritual Writings There is cause for rejoicing indeed in the fact that this religious family, which almost disappeared at the time when the seamless garment of the Church was pitiably rent, began to flourish again at the beginning of this present century, insofar as its branch of consecrated women is concerned; and a house was established at the Campo dei Fiori, where the mother foundress had formerly lived. That this institute may prosper with a happy increase in this anniversary celebration honoring St. Bridget is the object of our earnest desire. Deservedly extolled also are those works which are entitled "Revela-tions," and which set forth the mystical graces bestowed on St. Bridget. They are records valued besides for their wealth of sacred doctrine, treating of her cult of our Savior's humanity, of His sacred passion, of the Blessed Virgin, St. Joseph, and the angels. The spiritual writings and religious art of the 15th and 16th centuries reflect the strong impact of these works. Solicitude for the Church Broadening the range of her concern, however, St. Bridget, like another Catherine of Siena, extended her great and zealous solicitude to the Church and the Apostolic See in that troubled period. As a devoted daughter she sought the reformation of the Church, ihe Mother of all, which, as Vatican Council II says, "is summoned by Christ, as she goes her pilgrim way, to that continual reformation, of which she always has need, insofar as she is an institution of men here on earth" (Decree on Ecumenism, Unitat& redinte-gratio, 6). Like the "valiant woman" she was, Bridget entreated Clement VI, lingering in Avignon, to return to Rome and urged the proclamation of the jubilee year of 1350. This woman, then, who by her life and work united so admirably and beneficially in the one Church her illustrious native land of the North and the See of Peter, corroborates, so to speak, as a citizen of heaven, the gener-ous efforts of those who after a prolonged and lamentable severance are now striving to restore Christian unity. Indeed, Our predecessor Boniface IX ap-pears in some way to have foretold this when in an apostolic letter dated under his seal, 7 October 1391 he said that he declared Blessed Bridget of Documents concerning Religious / 9 happy memory to be a saint "for the unity of the faith and of the Ch'urch" (Bullarium Priv. ac Dipl. Pont., III, Rome, 1741, p. 391 ). Tolally Dedicated Again, we rightly commemorate this singular and exemplary woman be-cause, although she was totally dedicated to God, she was not estranged from her own people. More than this, animated by a Christian love of her native land, she labored for its true progress. Her own family gave 'to Sweden for almost a hundred years kings, among them St. Eric, who were intent upon the good of their people and social justice. And although occupied with household cares, St. Bridget often served as an instructress in royal duties at court and was like a watchful mother to King Eric the Great (or Erikson) and his wife. She gave them a Swedish translation of the Holy Bible, and for this and for her writings mentioned above, she obtained a place in the literary history of her country. May her light shine radiantly, therefore, a light recognized also by those who are not of the Catholic communion. May this extraordinary woman in-tercede with God that He may graciously bestow on the Church the gifts of peace and unity. These obtained, may the faithful of Christ in Sweden and the adjoining northern regions come to recognize that he who is placed over the Catholic Church and exercises the highest apostolic ministry testifies to a singular esteem and brotherly love for them. May the example of this devout pilgrimage ot~ olden days kindle the hearts of those who come to this City in the forthcoming Holy Year, so that sincere repentance and desire for the interior life may bring about a spiritual renewal that will benefit not only in-dividuals but the Church also and civil society. This then is Our message to you in observance of the sixth centenary of th~ death of St. Bridget. In conclusion, We affectionately impart to you and to the faithful under your care the Apostolic Blessing as a token of spiritual strength and joy. This Blessing we desire to extend also to the Abbess Gen-eral and the Sisters of St. Bridget, the Order of our Divine Savior. From the Vatican Palace, on the 19th day of September, in the year 1973, the eleventh of our Pontificate. PAUL VI ADDRESS TO BENEDICTINE ABBOTS The following address was given October 1, 1973, to 270 abbots and con-ventual priors of the Benedictine Confederation led by the Abbot Primate, Dom Rembert Weakland. Also present for the audience were three Orthodox monks and three Protestant monks. From the heart we greet you, representatives of the whole Order of St. Benedict, who, in St. Cyprian's words, have come "to the Chair of Peter and the primatial church, the source of priestly unity" (Ep. 12, 14; PL 3,844-5). You have desired also to pay a visit to us, the successor in the apostolic min- Review for Religious,. Volume 33, 1974/1 istry to that same blessed Peter, in the long intervening line of Pontiffs. We greet also the Priors here present ot~ monasteries located for the most partin Africa and in Latin America, in which areas, with laudable spontaneity you devote your energies to missionary work; that is to say, "you are diligently engaged in implanting there the very rich tradition of your Order" (see Conc. Vat. II, Decr. Ad gentes divinitus, 18). Experiencing God We welcome in addition, recognizing at the same time the high prestige they enjoy, the observers, who, though not full participants in the Catholic communion, are yet striving to follow in the footsteps of St. Benedict. Fi-nally, we receive paternally the abbesses of monasteries and th~ mothers general here present of congregations that adhere to the spirit of this Patri-arch and are called by his name. We know that you are now holding a meeting on a subject of no small consequence; namely, on the mode of experiencing God in monastic life. This topic has various facets, as it were, whether it is considered according to Biblical doctrine, to sacred liturgy, to history, to the conditions and exigen-cies of the present day. We regard this subject as serviceable indeed, if this troubled age of ours is really to return to the great and fundamental reflec-tions that concern human existence itself. For there is danger today that men may banish the sacred from their minds and from their condu& and even presume they can do without God, at least in the use they make'of thoii" lives. Sometimes even those who have given themselves to the divine service and are dedicated to the pastoral ministry can be infected with this secular view. You, however, as monks in appearance, dress, and way of life affirm or should affirm that you belong to the number of those who do not rely upon the vain and passing things of this world, but seek wholeheartedly Him who is the Absolute: whom alone we ca.ll God, God our Highest Good, God Eternal. Here there shines before the eyes of the mind the true concept of religion, whereby man becomes intimately aware that he is ordered to God, Creator, Ruler, Last End, and Author of Salvation, to whom he owes in-terior and exterior worship. Such religion, therefore, encompasses the entire man and obliges him to devote himself to God in wholehearted service. Hence, you who "have chosen the best part" (see Luke 10:42), inasmuch as "your main task is to render the Divine majesty a service at once sim-ple and noble within the monastic confines" (see Conc. Vat. II, Decr. Perfectae caritatis, 9), dembnstrate the excelling power of the interior life for opposing that secular propensity whereby men are induced to abandon their own true center, as it were, and surrender themselves to exterior things. Liturgy of the Hours It should be your concern, then, to be religious who are truly, called so, Documents concerning Religious under a unique title, since you strive to ascend to God, to whom you have been consecrated by the profession of the evangelical counsels, through liv-ing the contemplative life, which you nourish by daily effort. Merely in doing this you express your protest against the neglect of God and against the profane way of life which pervades the world in these times. From our brief exposition, the excellence of prayer to be directed to God is already manifest. Indeed, all the sons of the Church, as you well know, are to adore the Father "in spirit and in truth" (see John 4:23). But since in the world of today prayer is beset by so many snares and threatened by so many perils, to you, who enjoy a more fortunate position, is entrusted the special task of directing your study and efforts to the end that the Church may really appear as the Ecclesia Orans. We are cognizant of the zeal with which you have studied the liturgical aspect in this meeting. We rejoice greatly in your diligence and your ardent desire to make that venerable tradition of yours flourish among you and to preserve that which constitutes the essential part of your spiritual life and which in the course of the centuries has ever enhanced the life of the Church itself. We know also of your solicitude for the vital force, the profound sig-nificance and the benefits which have been derived from the renewal of the liturgy that you brought to pass. Joined to this solicitude of y_ours is appre-hension lest these same benefits be not rightly and duly recognized, the more so because differing inclinations of soul in the great family of- St. Benedict have become evident with regard to the order to be observed in the Liturgy of the Hours; that is, whether this order should be uniform in the various monasteries or particular to each one. Need to Study and Weigh This is a very important question, whether as pertaining to your con-sistent historical and spiritual tradition or to your monastic cohesion which is no longer supported by only one form of sacred liturgy, but is expressed through several different voices, so that in celebrating the praise of God you are no longer "speaking with one voice." Consequently, this question should be studied in such a way as to embrace all its aspects in accordance with the vows made by you, before appropriate norms with the force of precept are laid down. Nevertheless, we wish to state that the difficulties which have arisen should be so weighed, and due account taken of the benefits already ac-cruing, while with joint effort you strive to offer a testimony of fervent and ardent prayer to the world of today with its secular outlook. Assuring you therefore of our fatherly concern for the welfare of your monastic communities, we strongly affirm that we shall take under our eager and careful consideration the outcome and result of the work you have begun on this question, and already at this stage we acknowledge our Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 high esteem for the manner in which, with your wonted wisdom, you are addressing yourselves to this task. However, you are obliged to fulfill not only the duty of liturgical prayer, immensely important as this is, but also that of private prayer. On this sub-ject the Second Vatican Council has given a wise reminder (see Const. Sacrosanctum Concilium, 12), and St. Benedict himself is considered to treat of this point in his Rule, in the section headed. "De reverentia ora-tionis": "Supplication should be made to the Lord God of the universe with all humility and pure devotion" (cap. 20; see P. Delatte, Commentaire sur le R~gle de Saint Beno~t, Paris, p. 217). The exhortations of your founder are by no means inappropriate to this age, in which things progress and change with such rapidity. Just as in former times, so also now, you are to establish "a school of the Lord's ser-vice" (Reg. prol.); in other words, your monasteries should be so struc-tured that those who enter therein learn how to serve God and how to be continuously employed in His service. Such service, however, chiefly com-prises divine worship, by which the virtue of religion is exercised, as we have indicated above, and also holiness. With reference to worship we should like to bring out a special point: in celebrating the sacred liturgy with diligence and piety, as it behooves you to do, let. the sweet voice of the singing Church sound forth and never cease to sound forth in your churches. For men of today also feel the in-effable power of song that uplifts the soul and with gentle modulation gives expression to feelings of adoration, praise, penitence, and petition. Specially Chosen As regards holiness, this thought of St. Augustine should be deeply meditated: "Let not your voice only sound forth the praises of God, but let your deeds be in harmony with your voice" (Enarr. in Ps. 166, 2; PL 37, 1899). Although you have withdrawn from the world, to be occupied with the Lord, you have nonetheless "been specially chosen to preach the good news" (Rom l:l). May that hidden apostolic fruitfulness of which the Council speaks (see Decr. Perfectae caritatis, 7) flow out therefore from your mon-asteries upon the Church and society. May the yeast be prepared in them whereby, through the operation of divine power, the world may be renewed. This holiness, moreover, pertains not only to the life of the soul, but also to what you are doing for the cultivation of natural gifts, inasmuch as, to mention some examples, you devote yourselves to liturgical, Biblical, and historical studies for the common benefit, or, you engage in work, especially manual labor. Indeed, this last, may I add, enables you to go to the assist-ance of those who are suffering from poverty and other hardships, in keep-ing, of course, with the practices of the monastic life. This is in accord with the mind of the Council fathers who exhorted religious "to contribute to the Documents concerning Religious / 13 support of the poor, whom all should love with the tenderness of Christ" (see Decr. Per[ectae caritatis, 13; Const. Gaudium et spes, 42). Finally, not only your own individual life, but the life of the community as a whole, whereby you are joined one to another with the sweet bond of charity, should be adorned by this mark of holiness: that through the fel-lowship of community life directed to God, each individual is assisted in carrying out his service to the Lord, is incited to work for his brethren, is protected from dangers. Thus you will truly bear witness before the world to the holiness of the Church. In short, a community such as this, like a kind of novitiate, prepares religious during their lifetime for the everlasting day. Not without reason did St. Bernard reckon among the aids to good works: "to desire eternal life with all spiritual avidity" (Reg. cap. 4). ~ Example and Exhortation Of all these practices let the abbot give the example and exhort thereto the brethren entrusted to his care. Although the office of governing is ren-dered more difficult at the present time, yet he who "is believed to hold the place of Christ in the monastery" (Reg. cap. 2) should make the utmost effort that the vigor of spiritual life and of monastic discipline be strength-ened, increased, and, if need be, restored. To this end the abbot should en-deavor to maintain an unimpaired union with the magisterium of the Church, like a channel through which living water is drawn off for himself and for the brethren placed in his charge. The foregoing is what we have had affectionately in mind to say to you, and we do not doubt you will strive that your Order may aid the building up of the Church with spiritual forces, also in these times, to the needs of which it should prudently adapt itself. The announced Holy Year should offer you further incentive, since as you know we wish it to be a time of interior renewal. Lastly, as a pledge of heavenly gifts and as testimony of our assured affection, we impart the Apostolic Blessing to you who are here present and to all the members of your families in the Lord. ADDRESS TO THE LITTLE SISTERS OF JESUS The following address was given to the Little Sisters of Jesus at an audience of October 3, 1973. Dear Little Sisters of Jesus, last Friday we had the very sweet joy of meeting you at Tre Fontane, in the eloquent simplicity of your houses and in an impressive atmosphere of evangelical serenity and happiness. Your participation in this audience is like a return feast, for you and for us like-wise. To the thirty-seven Little Sisters who have just made their vows of per- 14 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 petual consecration at St. Peter's tomb, we address our best wishes for fervent faithfulness. But our brief words are also addressed to their families, who have in many cases come from very far away to be present at their de-finitive commitment "because of Jesus and the Gospel." They are addressed likewise to the two hundred Little Sisters at present attending a session of spiritual formation under the direction of dear Father Voillaume. We entrust to you our heart's most ardent desire. We would like you to take all over the world the conviction that a religious profession com-mits at such a profound level that changes of structures and activities have only a relative importance, even if one suffers from them. The essential thing is to keep a very keen awareness of the call of Christ who chooses His friends Himself (see Jn 15:15.) Is not Fr~re Charles de J6sus an example of this faithfulness deepened through different, if not contradictory, situ-ations? It is clear, however, that his mysterious route finds its coherence and its unity in passionate imitation of Jesus Christ, the One Model. Fr~re Charles de J6sus appears as one of the most perfect types of this deep faith-fulness of a human freedom to the freedom and faithfulness of God, who took him far beyond his expectations and hopes. Dear Little Sisters of Jesus, be confiden!! To be faithful does not con-sist in becoming tense over one's promises, but in relying on the Lord to ensure our ~faithfulness. That is why the long hours spent~with Christ in the Holy Eucharist will always be the primary and indispensable source of the friendship, the evangelical testimony you have promised to give in the Church and in the world today. It is with these sentiments that we renew our affectionate Apostolic Blessing to you and to your relatives and to your whole religious family. ADDRESS TO REDEMPTORISTS On October 6, 1973, the Pope gave the following talk to the members of the general chapter of the Redemptorists. Beloved Sons, To you assembled in the General Chapter of your Congre-gation of the Most Holy Redeemer and engaged in deliberations of great importance to the life of your religious family, We extend our affectionate greeting. We desire, moreover, to welcome expressly the new superior gen-eral, who is charged with the office and the burden of guiding your congre-gation through the difficulties of our times--neither few nor inconsiderable --and of conducting it to "green pastures" (see Ps 22:2). Purpose of Chapters A general chapter provides an excellent opportunity--offered to every institute--to 'reflect once more upon the true nature and end set for the institute and to hold discussions that will have a salutary effect on the life of the members. For the responsibility of a general chapter is not discharged Documents concerning Religious / 15 by holding elections and. legislating; .the chapter must also promote the spiritual and apostolic vitality of the whole body (see Litterae Ap. Ecclesiae sanctae, motu proprio, I, 2). Therefore, in a meeting of this kind, the entire family is gathered together in the presence of God to hear His voice and take counsel with regard to its renewal which, as also for the whole Church, "essentially consists in an increase of fidelity to its own calling" (see Conc. Vat. II Decr. Unitatis redintegratio, 6). Your congregation was founded by that most devout Doctor of the Church, St. Alphonsus, in order that its members might sanctify them-selves by an assiduous and faithful imitation of Christ and also engage in apostolic works, above all that special care of souls involving salutary con-tact with the most abandoned. Servants of God Beloved Sons, you are servants of God in the true and primary sense of the word; for "by your vows you are totally dedicated to God through an act of supreme Love" (see Const. Lumen gentium, 44). To be dedi-cated means to be given over to another as his property and possession. You should be followers of Christ as the Universal Synod advised all re-ligious (see Decr. Perfectae caritatis, 2a), corroborating, as it were, and realizing more completely the desire of your Father Founder. Hence each of you must endeavor to order his life to a certain unity and seek Christ daily with a sincere and generous heart. Daily you should put on Christ, an effort which is the beginning and the end and the whole of your life, whether as individual religious or as communities. Thus you truly make Christ present in the world, which is in many instances utterly alienated from Him, its Redeemer. Then those who see you, who speak to you or liave dealings with you may experience a certain mysterious power emanating from our Savior. Thus also you manifest the holiness of the Church, to the world which especially demands holiness in her sons. Life of Charity This daily effort to put on the likeness of Christ constitutes, however, a life lived in charity and motivated by charity. For religious thus "impelled ¯ . . live ever increasingly for Christ and for His body the Church" (Decr. Perfectae caritatis, 1 ). But love truly and properly so called is not for a limited time, is not hedged by conditions, is not rendered less ardent by difficulties, and knows no end. Justly did the Second Vatican Council address to every religious the following exhortation to fidelity: "Let all who have been called to the profession of the vows take painstaking care to persevere and excel increasingly in the vocation to which God has summoned them" (Const. Lumen gentium, 47). The life in which one dedicates himself to God with an undivided heart 16 / Review Jor Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 becomes a means to show forth the love of God for men. Just as God "loved the world so much that he gave his only son" (Jn 3:16), so too a religious who strives to attain the fullness of his vocation is a kind of gift bestowed upon the world. For an apostolate that is enlivened by continual prayer, liturgical and private, by ascetical zeal and the practice of the vir-tues, transfuses the divine life into men and constitutes in its truest sense the service of one's brothers in Christ. Beloved members of the Congregation of the Most Holy Redeemer, you have illumined the Church by the sanctity of certain of your brethren, of whom We are pleased to recall to mind the Saints, Alphonsus Mary de'Liguorl, your founder, Clement Hofbauer, Gerard Majella, Blessed John Nepomucene Neumann. By your apostolic labors you have brought the light of divine grace to so many souls. On the occasion of this general chapter, persevere with renewed alacrity in your noble purpose, and if need be give fresh impetus to your zeal and redouble your efforts that the Church of God may reap benefit from you now and in the future as in times past. In fatherly encouragement to you in all these efforts, we lovingly im-part the.Apostolic Blessing .~o you who are present here and to all your members. ADDRESS TO MISSIONARIES OF THE SACRED HEART At the general audience of October 10, 1973, the Holy Father gave the follow-ing talk to jubilarian Missionaries of the Sacred Heart who were present at the audience. Venerable Brothers and Dear Sons in Christ, It is a joy for us to receive you on this occasion which marks the anniversary of your sacerdotal ordi-nation. For forty years you have exercised the ministry of the priesthood, having been called by the Lord Himself and sent out by the Church to preach "Christ crucified" (1 Cor 1:23) and to assist in giving witness to His Resurrection (see Acts 4:33). We can well imagine how many graces the Lord has offered you over the years and how many helps your ministry has brought to those whom you have served with fidelity and sacrifice. On this happy occasion we are glad to offer you our blessing, our felicitations, and our encouragement. We see you as part of a vast number of our brother priests who have been conscious of their responsibility and calling and who have endeavored with God's grace to perform their ministry, in the spirit of St. Paul, as one "worthy of God's approval, a workman who has no cause to be ashamed" (2 Tim 2:15). Today we wish, at this point in your lives, to confirm you in the faith, which you have received and preached, and in the priestly vo-cation that has been your precious gift, high dignity, and important obliga-tion. We urge you at this time to keep alive your hope and to maintain to the end that confidence with which you began (see Heb 3:6,14). To each Documents concerning Religious / 17 of you we say with the Apostle: "God . . . will not forget your work and the .love you have shown him by your service, past and present, to his holy people" (Heb 6:,10). May Christ fill all of you with joy and keep you in his love. On our part we cordially give your our special Apostolic Blessing. Our special greeting of grace and peace in the Lord go to the members of the General Conference of the Congregation of the Missionaries of the Sacred Heart, gathered together to consider questions of religious life and missionary activity. As we assure you of our paternal affection and en-couragement, we pray that Christ Jesus will make you apt instruments of preaching His gospel with ever greater effectiveness. We pray that you may indeed draw copiously from the riches of His love so as to be able to com-municate this same love in all its fullness "to the praise of his glori6hs grace" (Eph 1:6). Our Apostolic Blessing accompanies you in your im-portant responsibilities. ADDRESS TO THE CLARETIAN CHAPTER On October 25, 1973, Paul VI gave an audience to the members of the Claretian general chapter during which he delivered the following address. Beloved Missionary Sons of the Immaculate Heart of Mary! We express to you our deep pleasure at th!s vi.s.!t you pay us at the con-clusion of the meetings of your general chfi~ter. We hope that the work you have carried out these days will be fruitful. We hope that the dedicated service of the superior general and of the other members elected to form part of his council, will be effective and helpful for the purposes of your religious family. ~ We cannot overlook a particularly, iIluhainating circumstance, ,.which makes this joyful meeting more attractive: yesterday we celebrated the liturgical feast of St. Antonio Maria Claret. You yourselves made known for this reason your desire to visit Peter's Successor. We thank you for this gesture of support, in which we see a testimony of ekquisite spiritual affinity with your founder. How could we fail to recall before his sons the deep de-votion' he felt for the Vicar of Christ? And how could we fail to,venerate his memory in view of his eloquent and moving 'profession of faith in papal infallibility at the I Vatican Council? All that obliges us gratefully to open our mind to you in confidence, so that. you know that it is in perfect har-mony of religious sentiments with your own. THE CLARETIAN IMAGE We are sure that, during these days of your chapter, the protecting and guiding presence of St. Antonio Maria became more intense and exacting among you. And we like to think too that, when tracing the lines of re-newal, you took as your fixed point of reference the most genuine faithful- 18 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 ness to the origins of your institute and to the teachings on the consecrated life that the II Vatican Council proposed .and we ourself have repeatedly in-culcated. Allow us to savour with what purity of characteristic features the image of the Claretian presented itself to the contemplation of St. Antonio Maria. We read it yesterday during the lesson: "I tell myself: a Son of the Immaculate .Heart~ of Mary is a man burning with charity who sets fire wherever he passes. Nothing disheartens him; he takes pleasure in priva-tions, meets difficulties, delights in slander, and rejoices 0in torments. He thinks of nothing except how to follow and imitate Jesus Christ, in working, suffering and struggling always and only for the greater glory .of God and the salvation of souls" (El celo, c. I, BAC 188 [1959], p. 777). o See here, projected towards you, a whole program of holiness, based on religious renunciation of oneself, the fruit of its fertile evangelical vitality. It points out to you clearly,, with expressions of clear Pauline dynamism the good to which your personal and community life must aspire: the following and imitation of Christ in impulses of a charity that is always operative. BEARERS OF VALUES If to this program of interior life we add the very special cult of the Blessed Virgin h~ inculcated in you together with the~rimary dedication to the ministry of the Word, ,we have the complete picture of the Claretian vocation and spirituality. These and no others were the motives that gave life and ,meaning to the irrepressible zeal of the son of Sallent. And none other was the stamp of religious austerity that he imposed on himself to make his ministry more worthy of credit and more in conformity with the demands of the divine call. To proclaim the Good News to the point of sacrificing oneself for the good of one's brothers, to teach men the ever new languagel of;charity, characterized his overwhelming pastoral,task as Arch-bishop of Santiago in Cuba. Rightly could~we say of him, as of the Apostle of the Gentiles, that his vigor as '.'herald and teacher in faith and truth" (see 1 Tim 2:7) suffered no decrease in the midst of difficulties. On the contrary, his pastoral cares, his missionary anxiety found a way to express themselves continually in new ministerial initiatives, at home and abroad, inspired and nourished by the spirit of faithful service to the Church. Beloved sons, .appreciate this spiritual patrimony of yours;, spare no effort in tending its roots, if you really wish to be a tree always young and flourishing, able to adapt itself to the environment, to the changing require-ments of the times in order to continue to give ripe fruit to the Church, as it did in the past and continues to do at present, through its most illustrious sons. , At the chapter you have just held you have been able to convince your-selves that you are bearers of certain values that do not grow old because they .are a select part of the heritage and the universal vocation of the Documents concerning Religious /o 19 Church. The Christian community itself asks you for faithfulness and dis-cretion, generosity and disinterestedness in order to accept you and recog-nize you as the living and united sign of its human and spiritual aspirations. We do not wish to expatiate at greater length. Entrusting these thoughts to you, we wish to encourage you in your aspirations to holiness with our prayers to the Immaculate Heart of Mary so that, with the help of her motherly intercession, you may be exemplary sons of the Church. As con-firmation of these desires and as a testimony of particular benevolence we warmly impart the Apostolic Blessing to you and to the whole Claretian family. First Penance and First Communion Sacred Congregation [or the Discipline of the Sacraments and Sacred Congregation for the Clergy The Supreme Pontiff Pius X, relying on the prescription of Canon 21 of the Fourth Lateran Council, decided by the Decree "Quam singulari" issued on August 8th 1910 (AAS 1910, pp. 577-583), that children, once they had reached the age of discretion, should receive the sacraments of penance and Eucharist. That decision, having been put into operation throughout the universal Church, has produced and continues to produce very many fruits of Christian life and spiritual perfection. The "Addendum" to the General Catechetical Directory issued on the 1 lth April, 1971, by the Sacred Congregation for the Clergy (AAS 1972 pp. 97-176) confirms the custom of children receiving the sacrament of penance before Communion: "Having weighed all these points, and keeping in mind the common and general practice which per se cannot be derogated without the approval of the Apostolic See, and also having heard the Con-ferences of Bishops, the Holy See judges it fitting that the practice now in force in the Church of putting confession ahead of first Communion should be retained." The same "Addendum" took into consideration the fact that in certain regions in the Church some new practices had been introduced allowing children to be admitted to first Communion without first receiving the sacra-ment of penance. It allowed such practices to be continued for a time, pro-vided there was "prior communication with the Apostolic See and., they [the Conferences of Bishops] are at one mind with it." Having now carefully considered the matter and having taken into con-sideration the wishes of the bishops, the Sacred Congregations for the Dis-cipline of the Sacrament~ and for the Clergy, by virtue of this present docu-ment, and with the approval of the Supreme Pontiff, Paul VI, now that the 2O First Penance a~nd First Communion two years have passed, declare that these experiments should be brought to an end with the conclusion of the school year 1972-73 and that, there-fore, the Decree "Quam singulari" is to be obeyed by all everywhere. Given at Rome 24 May 1973. ANTONIUS Card. SAMORI~ Praef . JOHANNES Card. WRIGHT Praef . A Note on Intercommunion Secretariat [or the Union of Christians The following text is an explanatory note concerning the "Instruction on Intercom-munion" issued by the Secretariat for the Union of Christians on June 1, 1972; the text of the 1972 "Instruction" was given in Review ]or Religious, January 1973, pp. 12-8. 1. After the publication of the "Instruction concerning Particular Cases When Other Christians May Be Admitted to Eucharistic Communion in the Catholic Church," on June 1, 1972, various interpretations of it were given, some of which depart from the letter and the spirit of the document. To pre-vent the spread of such inaccurate interpretations and their consequences, we think it useful to recall to mind a few points. 2. With this instruction, pastoral in character, the Secretariat for Pro-moting Christian Unity had no intention of changing the rules laid down by the Vatican Council's decree on ecumenism and further explained by the Directorium Oecumenicum. The intenti6n was to explain that the existing discipline derives from the requirements of the faith and so retains its full vigour. 3. The basic principles of the instruction are: a) There is an indissoluble link between the mystery of the Church and the mystery of the Eucharist or between ecclesial and Eucharistic com-munion; the celebration of the Eucharist of itself signifies the fullness of pro-fession of faith and ecclesial communion (cf. Instruction, par. 2, a, b, c). b) The Eucharist is for the baptized a spiritual food which enables them to live with Christ's own life, to be incorporated more profoundly in Him, and to share more intensely in the whole economy of the mystery of Christ (cf. Instruction, par. 3). 4. Within the full communion of faith, Eucharistic Communion is the .4 Note on lntercommunion / 23 expression of this full communion and, therefore of the unity of .the faithful; at the same time it is the means of maintaining and reinforcing this unity. But Eucharistic Communion practiced by those ,who are not in full ecclesial communion with each other cannot be the expression of that full unity which the Eucharist of its nature signifies and which in this case does not exist; for this reason such Communion,cannot be regarded as a means to be used to lead to full ecclesial communion. 5. All the same, both the Directorium Oecumenicurn and th~ '~Instruc-tion," on,the,strength of what has already been said in the Vatican Council,s decree on ecumenism, allow the possibility of exceptions insofar as the Eucharist is necessary spiritual nour!shment for the Christian life. 6. It is the local ordinary's responsibility to examine these exceptional cases and make concr&e decisions. The instruction (no. 6.) recalls that the Directorium Oecumenicum gives the episcopal authority power, to decide whether in these r~re cases the required conditions are present or not. The episcopal authority's faculty of examining and deciding is governed by criteria laid down in the Directorium Oecumenicum (no. 55) and further explained in the instruction (no. 4 b),:. ". admission to Carbolic'Eucha-ristic Communion is confined to particular cases of those Christians who have a faith in the sacrament in conformity with that of the-Church, who experience a serious spiritual need for the Eucharistic sustenance, who for a prolonged period are unable to have recourse to a minister of their own community °and who ask for the sacrament of their own accord; all' this provided that they have proper dispositions~ and lead lives worthy of a Christian." ~. This criterion is observed if,,ail the required conditions .are verified. An object.ire, pastorally responsible examination,does not allow any vof,the con-ditions to be ignored. . ~. ~ ~ It must also be noted that the instruction speaks of particular cases, which are to be examined individually. Hence-a general regulation.cannot be~ issued which makes a catego.ry .o.ut of an exce.ptional case, nor is it possibles.to legitimate on the basis:of, epikei.a by turning this latter into a general rule. Nevertheless, the bishops can in tiae various situations decide what are theneeds that make exceptions applicable, that is to say, what constitutes a special case, and they can determine the manner of verifying whether all the required conditions are fulfilled in such a particular case. When par-ticular cases presen.t themselves fairly often in one region, following a re-current pattern, episcopal conferences can issue some guiding principles for ascertaining that al!,the conditions are verified in particular cases. Normally however it will be within the competence of the local ordinary to judge such cases. 7. For other Christians to be admitted to the Eucharist in the Catholic Church the instruction requires that they manifest a faith in the sacrament Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 in conformity with that of the Catholic Church. This faith is not limited to a mere affirmation of the "real presence" in the Eucharist, but implies the doctrine of the Eucharist as taught in the Catholic Church. 8, It is to be noted that the instruction (no. 5) calls to mind the fact that the Directorium Oecumenicum (par. 34-54) provides for the Orientals not in full communion with the Catholic Church rules different from those regarding other Christians (par. 55-63)o For example, (a) Since they belong to a community whose Eucharistic faith is in con-formity with that of the Catholic Church, a personal declaration of faith in the sacrament will not be required of them when they are admitted: in an Orthodox this faith is taken for granted; (b) since the Orthodox Churches have true sacraments and, above all, by virtue of apostolic succession, the priesthood and the Eucharist, conces-sions for sacramental communion must take account of legitimate reciprocity (no. 43); (c) Justifiable reasons for advising sacramental sharing are considerably more extensive. 9. The question of reciprocity arises only with those Churches which have preserved the substance of the Eucharist, the sacrament of orders, and apostolic succession. Hence a Catholic cannot ask for the Eucharist except from a minister who has been validly ordained (Directorium Oecumenicum, no. 55). 10. The desire to share the Eucharist fundamentally expresses the desire of the perfect ecclesial unity of all Christians which Christ willed. Intercon-fessional dialogue on the theology of the Eucharist (as sacrament and sacrifice), on the theology of ministry and of the Church is pursuing its course within the ambit of the ecumenical movement, supported by the promises and prayer of our Lord; it is stimulated and enlivened by the charity, poured into our hearts by the Holy Spirit who has been given to us. We express the hope that the ecumenical movement will lead to a common profession of faith among Christians and so allow us to celebrate the Eucharist in ecclesial unity, giving fulfillment to the words, "Because there is one bread, we who are many are one body" ( 1 Cor 10: 17). This note has been approved by the Holy Father, who has authorized its publication. 17 October 1973 JOHN CardinaF WILLEBRANDS President CHARLES MOELLER Secretary Decree on the Holy Year Indulgence Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary A DECREE WHICH DETERMINES WHAT SPIRITUAL WORKS ARE NECESSARY TO GAIN "THE GIFT OF THE INDULGENCE" IN THE VARIOUS LOCAL CHURCHES ON THE OCCASION OF THE HOLY YEAR The Cardinal President of the Central Committee for the Holy Year has asked this Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary to determine what spiritual works are necessary to gain "the gift of the Indulgence," which the Holy Father has promised to reinforce the spirit of reconciliation and renewal which are the characteristics of this Holy Year. Charged by the Sovereign Pontiff, the Sacred Penitentiary grants that, from the 1st Sunday of Advent of this year, until the day when the Holy Year is solemnly initiated in Rome, the faithful of the individual local Churches can gain: 1. The Plenary Indulgence, in the times to be decided by the Episcopal Conferences, if they go on a. pious pilgrimage to the cathedral church, or also to o~her churches determined by the local Ordinary, in which a solemn community function is held; 2. The Plenary Indulgence, likewise in the times to be decided by the Episcopal Conferences, if gathered in groups (for example, families, school pupils, workers, employees and professional workers, pious associations), they visit the cathedral or other churches designated by the Ordinary, and remain there in pious meditation for a suitable time, concluding the visit with the recitation or singing of the Lord's Prayer and the Creed and with the invocation to the Blessed Virgin; 3. The Plenary Indulgence if, prevented by sickness or any other serious 25 26 / Review fo.r. Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 cause, they join spiritually in the pious pilgrimage, offering God their prayers and sufferings. As regards the diocese of Rome, which should rightly be in this matter an example and stimulus for other ecclesial communities, the same Sacred Penitentiary decrees that the times and ways to gain the aforesaid Plenary Indulgence shall be determined by the Cardinal Vicar General of Rome. Notwithstanding any provisions to the contrary. Rome, from the Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary, 24 September 1973. G. SESSOLO Regent G. CARD. PAUP1NI Grand Penitentiary COMMENTARY ON THE HOLY YEAR INDULGENCE The following commentary on the preceding document appeared in L'osser-vatore romano, November 29, 1973, page 6. 1. By order ~f the Holy Father, the Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary issued, on 24 September 1973, a decree confirming and clarifying what had already been said with regard to the Jubilee indulgence during this first phase of the Holy Year. It establishes::the so-called "work" or "pious practice" to be carried out by the faithful, at given times and places, to acquire the Jubilee indulgence. ~ .' The "work" prescribed is a "pilgrimage" to a designated church, con-cl'~ ding witl~ barticipation in a solemn community servic~ or at le.ast with the i'ecitatign 'of some prayers. Summarizing the decree of 24 September 1973 and keeping in mind both the norms for indulgences and the Holy Father's Letter of 31 May 1973, to Cardinal Maximilian de Ftirstenberg, President of the Central Committee for the Ho!y Year, the following points.may be r~oted. The faithful who, duly,dispoged, approach the sacraments of confession affd communion and pray acco~:ding to the intentions of the Holy Father and the Episcopal C~ollege, are granted, in conformity with the norms in fbrce, the gift of the i91enary indulgence, at the time~'to be determined by the respective Episcopal Conference, beginning from 2 December 1973: (a) if they'take part in a pilgrimage to the cathedral church or to another church #esignated by the local Bishop and participate in solemn comrriunity serVice there; (b) if they go in groups (for example ram!lies, "sc3ools, professignal @orkers, associations) to one of the afpresaid chur'~hes and devote the, m-s'elves for ~/suitable space bf time to pious considerations, concluding them with the recitation or the singing of the Ou{ Fath~" and the Creed and with an invocation to the Blessed Virgifi; (c) if, being unable to take part in'tli~ pilgrimage of their comn~unity (ecclesial, family, or social), because they are pi'evented by illness or any ~Decree on the Holy Year Indulgence / 27 .o, ther serious cause, they join in it .spiritually by offering their prayers and sufferings. 2. We spoke above of the faithful being ."duly disposed." This is a reminder that the '.'gift of. t, he indulgence" must .be merited by fervent prep-aration; it is bestowed to reward° and "strengthen"--as we readAn the re-cent d.e~cree--the spirit of renewal and reconciliation that must characterize the Hgly Year. , For this reason the simple practices that are required to gain the Jubilee indulgence must not be separated from the work of preparation, on which s9 much stress has rightly been laid. The practices themselves are, as ~it were, the point of arrival°and ,tOe exte_r.na_l sign of deep renewal of the spirit and reinvigorated love for God and one's brethren. . No.w, ,,the work of renewal and fervor is 'the most valuable part of the Holy Year, because, great as is the value of the indulgence that remits the te.mporal pen,alty in the case of, those who are disposed, the value of the works proposed when their fulfillment leads,to an increase of charity is in-comparably greater (St. Thomas, Supplement to the Theological Summa, q. 25~ 2, 2 and q. 27, 2, 2). ,. 3. We mentioned above--in addition to the proper disposition and the "work" prescribed~what are commonly called "conditions" for gaining the Jubilee indulgence, namely:sacramental confession, eucharistic,communion, and prayer for the intentions of the Holy Father and the Episcopal College. The three "conditions" mentioned above are also required for every other plenary indulgence, with the only difference that the prayer, according to the general norms, is said for the intentions of the Holy Father, while in this circumstance the Holy Father himself (cf. Letter to Cardinal de Ftirs-tenberg, quoted above) has wished to associate the intentions of the Bishops with his own. For the fulfillment of the conditions (cf. Norms, nn. 27, 28 and 29), the following should be noted: " (a) Communion and prayer for the intentions of the Holy Father and of the Episcopal College should be on the same day on which the pilgrimage is made, but they may be before or afterwards. (b) To fulfill the condition of prayer for the intentions of the Holy Father and the Bishops, the faithful may recite a prayer of their own choice. (c) As for sacramental confession, in order to be able to make it un-hurriedly, it can be made even twenty days before or after the pilgrimage. It should also be remembered that confession must be made even by those who do not feel any serious guilt on their conscience; that it is required on the occasion of any plenary indulgence, but even more so for the Jubilee indulgence because of the particular commitment of purification and re-newal that the Holy Year entails. The confession, in fact, if the penitent so desires and the confessor con-s~ ders ~t useful, may ~nclude not only the s~ns since the last good confession, Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 but also the sins of a longer period of time to facilitate a deeper renewal of life. Furtherra~ore, to facilitate the faithful in making their individual con-fession, the recommendation that there should be confessors available "on the days and at the hours established for the convenience of the faithful" (cf. Normae~ pastorales of the S0 Congr. of the Doctrine of the Faith. 16 June 1972, AAS 64, 1972, page 513), is especially applicable for the Holy Year. (d) During .the Holy Year it is also ct~stomary to grant confessors special faculties in order that, if necessary, they"can absolve penitents in some cases, usually "reserved" to higher authority, without the obligation of re-course to the Bishop or to other competent Superior or to the Holy See. During the first phase of the Holy Year, which is celebrated in the vari-ous local Churches, the Bishops can make provision in this regard by grant-ing, at least to the more experienced confessors, the ample faculties at their disposal (cf. M.P. Pastorale munus of 30 November 1963, n. 14: AAS 56, 1964, p. 8). 4. Mention was also made above, in a generic way, of the "norms in force." It will be sufficient to recall here expressly the following two: (a) Every indulgence can" be applied to the dead by way of suffrage (norm 4). (b) The plenary indulgence can be acquired only once a day (norm 24, 1). Religious Life: Style or Culture? Vincent P. Branick, S.M. Father Vincent P. Branick, S.M., teaches Scripture and philosophy at Chaminade College of Honolulu; 3140 Waialae Avenue; Honolulu, Hawaii 96816. Paradoxically, loneliness has appeared most intensely in communities which have accepted in full seriousness the needs of the individual to express and communicate his unique personality. Groups which have sacrificed rich traditions to avoid the suffocation of their members in a mass of impersonal structures, congregations which have radically reformed their rules in quest of a truly personalized life have found their members suffering an over-whelming sense of isolation and lack of social maturity, to the extent of a serious weakening or even destruction of~their religious vocation. The Loss of Religious Culture Obviously, the ideals of personalism governing these reforms are not false. The evident validity of these ideals has led administrators to hold to the reforms in the face of their congregations' equally evident devitaliza-tion and even extinction. The mistake lies not in the ideals but in an un-recognized consequence resulting from an oversimplified pursuit of these ideals, namely, in the loss of religious culture. Many young people who came to religious life with a profound desire to be religious are leaving for the lack of a religious culture in which they could live. Many older religous are retreating into a comfortable bachelorhood for want of a religious cul-ture in which they could grow. What is this missing culture? Culture in General In its fundamental sense, a culture is a milieu or atmosphere in which 29 30 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 the human person can express his heartfelt values and through which he can communicate with others about these values. A culture is a consistent pat-tern of practices and manners which specify a shared approach to life, a familiar environment in which an individual finds himself, in which he can feel "at home." This fundamental sense of culture appears most strikingly in the cele-bration of a folk-festival. A nation celebrating itself gathers up its heritage, dances, and contests as a reminder of all that its members have in common. The songs a people sings are truly its songs. These are the songs which its ancestors sang and which likewise catalyzed its ancestors' sense of identity. Through these traditioned customs a nation can celebrate its solidarity in the present and its link to its past. Thus, a folk-festival is not a celebration separated from daily life, but rather an intensification of elements active in a lesser way throughout the daily life of a people, binding a people together. The stranger can visit and enjoy the celebration, but he can never fully par-ti~ ipate in it. He is not of the same culture. Culture as a Social Reality In its more common meaning as a complex of refinements and sensi-bilities, culture is likewise basically a social concept. The "cultivated" per-son is one whose sensibilities have been refined to perceive the beauty of the art and customs of a nation, to understand and use the language and literature that bind a people together, ultimately to understand the languages and customs that bind all men together. The use of such refinement as a device for. mere self-display produces a grotesque caricature, confusing cul-ture. with snobbery. True culture is essentially a social reality. The cultivated person is one who has mastered.the symbols of a society, the symbols which are the means of communication within that scciety. As a social reality, culture is an extension of the human body's ability to symbolize the soul to others. It is an extension produced by a consistent use of many details of life, perhaps insignificant in themselves but very sig-nificant in the pattern they form together. This extension is accomplished with other persons, who together create a circle of common gestures, lan-guage, dress, and other customs, a circle in which each individual feels at home, in which he can express himself and be confident,of understanding, since he is communicating with others in a familiar medium. The N~ed of Every Man for a Culture Every man needs such a culture in which to grow. The man in society needs to feel a certain rhythm about him which he knows and which he can use as a sounding board for his inner life, allowing him to concretize and control that inner life and, above all, to share it with others. Even the her-mit has taken with him his language and his manners which remain at least an unconscious reminder of the people he knows and which .allow him to Religious Li]e: Style or Culture? / 31 express to himself the life he is leading. The man without a culture is the barbarian, the one incapable of using the symbols of communication, the conventions of sharing; thus he is reduced to grunting his basic needs. Far from suppressing individual persons and ideas, the discipline of a culture provides a man with the means of expressing and developing his individuality. The great poets expressed their genius not by creating new and private languages, but by mastering their mother tongues. Perhaps the great attraction of the "hippy culture" was its success in mediating a solidarity and communication among its members. The pattern of the many external, insignificant details permitted one member to talk to another. The long, slightly matted hair, the beard, the colorful but bleached clothes, necessarily frayed at the edges, the beads, and above all, the vocabulary--these details, insignificant in themselves, formed a culture within which one hippy could understand another. The apparent contradic-tion between the hippy ideal of freedom in personal expression, on the one hand, and the strict conformity in dress and hair, on the other, can be un-derstood in the light of the enormous importance such details have when taken together to form a culture. Religious Culture In the same way the person who enters religious life needs a culture, The person who wishes to live his Christian life in intense simplicity and poverty, the person who seeks a prolonged meditative prayer needs a pat-tern of bodily symbols to concretize his aspirations, a sounding board against which he can objectify his ideals. Furthermore, he needs others who share his spiritual values and with whom he can communicate. He thus needs an atmosphere or pattern in which he can develop this life and communicate with others about this life. He needs a religious culture. It is not surprising to find at the historical origin of religious life the practice of spiritual di-rection, the practice of communicating profound religious insights and val-ues, oa practice which gradually of itself expanded into a pattern of religious customs, into a complete religious culture. Loss ~f Culture by Focus on Style Many communities .today have lost this sense of religious culture 'by focusing rather on the question of style. The emphasis on personal style in religious life has had the value of underlining the individual differences in a community, differences which enrich a.community. Yet, in fact, this same emphasis on personal style has broken down much of the consistent re-ligious patterns and symbols in congregationsland, as a result, much of the communication among the members. Diverse individuals and groups, each absorbed in its preferred style, became isolated from each other. Frequently one religious no longer knew if.another possessed the same spiritual sensi-bilities, the same interests, the same background on which communication Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 could be based. The least common denominator in a particular community became less and less. As religious life became a "life style," attention shifted from "life" to "style," and individuals charted their courses alone, away from each other. Presupposed in this pluralistic approach was the belief that each mem-ber of a community could work out his style of life by himself. The man who wished austerity could rise early by himself, eat frugally by himself, and by himself develop a contemplative form of prayer. Supposedly, the others in the same community who did not wish to share this desert could avail themselves of more bourgois amusements. This presupposition, however, neglects man's need for a culture. In effect, this emphasis on style has led to the introduction into the con-gregations of diversities normally holding among congregations. A particu-lar community could find itself composed of austere Trappists, Christian hippies, and mere professional bachelors, each with his own spirituality, each with his own style. Sharing the same province or even living under the same roof, members of communities began to look like strangers to each other. The fundamental element of religious life, spiritual direction, be-came impossible. Prayer life broke down, not through laziness, but through loneliness, through the inability to communicate with others about one's prayer. Formation of recruits became an impossible task, often involving a series of contradictory instructions as a young person passed from the recruiting community, to the novice master, and on through the stages of formation. Rebuilding Religious Culture At present most attempts to rebuild the bond among the members of a community tend in two distinct ways.', the one "theoretical," the other "recreational." The first consists of an attempt to find and concentrate on "the essen-tials." In the face of a bewildering variety of life styles, many communities have sought to articulate the essence of their life, the core reality that every-one could accept, on which everyone could concentrate, allowing then the accidentals to vary according to individual preferences. The theologians were asked to present in clear terms the essence of religious life. General chapters met and held their breath, waiting for this description of the essence. They will probably continue to wait for some time, because the task of articulating the essence of such a concrete and mysterious reality as re-ligious life appears as an impossible job. Whatever "essential trait" is sei~ed upon, whether some particular vow, the three vows, or community life, there appears in history or in the present some obviously religious form of life that flourished or is presently flourishing without it. The appeal to ca-nonical definitions likewise fails to point out an essence of the life, since Religious Li]e: Style or Culture? / 33 these definitions appear more as descriptions after the fact, more as arti-ficially clear and distinct deliniations required for the legal functioning of the Church than as theological penetrations into the fundamental structure of the life. Like peeling away the successive skins to find the onion, the-ologians peeled away the "accidents" but found little left to identify as an essence. The second method of rebuilding the bond among the members of a community is far more down to earth and consists on stressing "the com-mon fun." While awaiting the perfect theology of religious life, people can do something practical. They can recreate together and in that recreation seek to build a community. Such suggestions as "Let's fire the cook and make our own meals together!" or "Everybody in the club room tonight for cocktails!" often clothe desperate attempts to build community. Certainly this effort has served well by focusing on the real need for sim-ple friendliness in communities (to say nothing of the marvelous cooks pro-duced). Yet the idea of common life meant more to the ancients than our attempts at common fun. Such a shallow basis of life does not attract dedi-cated young people. If all they see is this recreational aspect of our lives, they will hardly be convinced to sacrifice spouse and children for a con-viviality that can never approximate the intensity and warmth of a natural family. The community recreation is important, but it can never form the basis of religious common life. The Need to Reestablish a Religious Culture The isolation and loneliness vitiating communities can be overcome only by reestablishing a whole religious culture, a consistent and relatively stable milieu in which religious can feel at home as religious, a pattern of con-crete practices through which one religious can express his deep spiritual values to another. The precise culture will vary with each congregation. Any form, how-ever, will demand certain general lines. First, a religious culture demands an attention to a multitude of accidental details, many of which when taken alone may appear insignificant and even superficial. Neither the cut of the clothes, nor the simplicity in a house, nor the hour of rising appears worthy of an intense crusade. It is useless to seek a rationale directly behind such details, and the temptation exists to peel them away one by one, to peel them away as though from some essential core. Yet insofar as it is a cul-ture, the essence of religious life may be inseparable from the sum total of the "accidents." A religious culture does not stand or fall with any particu-lar detail, but the simple removal of each accidental reduces by that much the identifiability of that culture. Second, any religious culture is necessarily built around the form of prayer of the community, more specifically, around the degree of con-templation a community chooses to practice. A particular type of prayer 34 / Review for Religious, l/olume 33, 1974/1 often requires an ambience, a degree of calm, a type of simplicity regulat-ing the details of the whole day. Conversely, a particular form of contempla-tive prayer colors all else: personal service, the celebration of the Eucharist, professional work. The type and degree of mental prayer is thus a key ele-ment in any religious culture. Third, religious culture, like any culture, requires a willingness of the members to sacrifice personal preferences for the consistency of a com-munity atmosphere, to place a social culture before a personal style. This is not to say that the culture must take the form of some immobile mass of customs. Customs must evolve. As practices no longer serve to communicate the spiritual inspiration of a community, as gestures lose their symbolic values, they should disappear. However, a culture must change as a culture. It must evolve on,the basis of other more stable elements, not on the basis of members darting off in their own directions, according to the demands of personal style. ¯ Within the context of such a religious culture, the search for the essence of religious life can continue, guided not simply by an abstract analysis, but, .more importantly, by a lived contact with the reality. Since religious life is received by man as gift, not produced by him as invention, since the life is fundamentally beyond his natural powers, he will probably never attain that clear insight into the nature of the life that results in a precise defini-tion. Our speech about religious life will probably always be dominated more by poetic intuition than by abstract concept, a poetic intuition that feels at home with small details and operates from a position within the object spoken of. Likewise, the efforts to improve community recreation should have an important part in the building of religious culture. The simple kindness and conviviality of a community recreation can be a powerful expression of the fundamental value of fraternal love, if this expression is part of a greater milieu. Culture and Personal Development Where the individual religious finds a living and consistent culture, there he will find the medium in which to express his unique individuality. In the expressed solidarity of a group, a member has the means of developing a truly personalized life. There he has the means of expressing for himself and for others his unique riches. A culture which involves even many small details will not stifle individuality. As the expression of the spirit, a culture will function as a guide and an agent of personal development. Only a vibrant culture in religious life will dispel the present loneliness. Size and the Cohesiveness of Groups of Religious Sister Jane Marie Kerns, S.H.C.J. Sister Jane Marie is a faculty member of West Catholic Girls High School and,lives at the Convent of the Holy Child Jesus; 4724 Cedar Avenue; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19143. ~ Six years have passed since the CMSW undertook the monumental study known as the Sisters Survey in an attempt to delve into the thinking and feelings of the religious who participated. Prescinding from the reported findings, one can suspect that even the launching of such a study had value simply as a consciousness-raising device. Foremost among the areas of re-ligious life that came under scrutiny was the, dynamics of group living that we call community life. Explosive--because it is inescapably personal-- and sacrosanct--because it is integral to religious traditions and the essence of religious life as we understand it, the whole topic of group living by re-ligious is subject to biased interpretations. Why? Perhaps just because celibates need so much from community life. Perhaps just because we de, pend so much on life in community to underwrite the whole structure of the social apostolates in which we engage. Perhaps just because an ideal form of community life promises to make tangible and present the kingdom of God toward which we daily strive. Size and Cohesiveness Whatever the reason, there can be no doubt that community is a prime concern among religious and that size as related to cohesion is a pivotal area. In order to bring empirical objectivity into an issue clouded with un-conscious and often conflicting biases, the author undertook a research 35 36 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 project designed to investigate the effects of size on the cohesiveness of groups of religious living together in local communities. By devising a method to quantify the degree of cohesion exhibited through the affective choices made by members of several large and small communities, it was possible to make a comparison based on evidence more objective than opinion and more concrete than theory. Background The CMSW Survey in 1967 showed that 59.7% of the 125,000 sisters who responded to it felt that there was an optimal size of community groups beyond which it would be impossible for members living together to become a community. (Though the Survey did not define the term com-munity, it is patent from much of the literature of the day that sisters under-stand some special sense of fraternity and solidarity or cohesiveness that should be characteristic of the shared life of religious who live together.) Among the Sisters of the Holy Child Jesus, who were the subjects of the research project on which this article is based, an even greater majority-- 78.2%--concurred in the opinion expressed on the CMSW Survey instru-ment. In subsequent years a plethora of literature praising small group living has led to a general belief among religious in the therapeutic value of the small local community as the preventative for malformation of personality and as a booster shot for personal fulfillment through the healthy human interaction indispensable for strong ego-building? The impetus for the renewal of religious life given by Vatican II in-corporated much that flowed from the best developments of social psy-chology. In this context the drive to revivify the apostolate of the Church required that religious orders of men and women march in tune with the personalism of the culture of which they are a part. Definition of the Problem From this two-pronged incentive of development in the social sciences and updating in the Church, there arose interest in the applicability of many facets of small group research to religious communities. Focusing on the i~ssumptions that in a given group (1) more frequent interaction conse-quent on smaller nfimbers of members tends to produce more cohesive groups and (2) members of a small cohesive group will experience more strong satisfying interpersonal relationships than members of a larger group, the author undertook an empirical study of eleven groups of re-ligious sisters for the purpose of developing an index of cohesiveness that would enable comparisons to be made between larger and smaller groups, 1Gabriel Moran and Maria Harris, Experiences in Community (New York: Herder and Herder, 1968). This is one of many possible examples. Size and the Cohesiveness of Groups of Religious and thus promise an objective test of the hypotheses involved. In brief, those hypotheses state that community size will have a signifi-cant effect both on the number of members with whom one can have good positive relationships and also on the proportionate number of people in community with whom one can have such relationships. Definilion of Key Words Certain key words must be defined in accordance with their use in this ¯ study in order to provide a common working base. The following appear to be most important: 1. cohesion 2. good, positive relationship 3. group--small, large Because of characteristics peculiar to religious orders, the task of defining terms is more complicated than simply borrowing from highly quoted au-thors in the field. A method of definition by distillation was employed in areas where circumstances required. A prime example was the term cohesion. In consulting authors,~ one is confronted with a notion of forces constraining members to remain in the group. But there is nothing in the literature that seems to correspond to the force of perpetual vows which bind the religious to membership in the re-ligious institute and to residence in specific local communities according to the directives from authorities in the order. Two levels of "force" are in-herent in the situation of the religious. One revolves around the strength of his commitment to the religious life itself and the second around the de-gree of commitment with which he engages in the affairs of the local house in which he lives--a commitment arising basically from a sense of duty toward an ideal based outside of the group in which he lives. A third force, distinct from the levels mentioned above, yet probably to some extent conditioned by his whole approach to religious life, is the at-traction that the local community holds for the religious by reason of the rapport he feels with particular members of that given group at any one time. Since all the groups used in this study operate under the same two forces resulting from religious profession in the order, it appears that the third type of force is more germane to our purposes here. Therefore, cohe-sion in this study denoted ". the degree of attachment (involvement, be-longingness, importance) that members have for the group.":' In this con-text then cohesion refers to the obvious capacity of the group to satisfy the ~The writings of men like Cartwright and Zander or Festinger, Schachter, and Back are typical. :~Clovis R. Shepherd, Small Groups: Some Sociological Perspectives (San Francisco: Chandler, 1964), p. 25. 311 / Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 personal needs of its members. It is this connotation that is meant by "strong, satisfying, interpersonal relationships" referred to in the second assumption; and this is the definition of good, positive relationships used in this work. (Though use of the word "friendship" might be a more graceful way of ex-pressing these ideas, its use is being purposefully avoided to.allow for a more open-ended definition of friendship to be employed later in the pre-sentation. ) By small groups, we shall mean groups of between 6 and 11 members and the large groups used in the study ranged from 12 to 29. Procedure The procedure used in the research involved a sociogram-like type of questionnaire in which the respondents were asked to list any number of sisters with whom they had lived during the last year and with whom they would enjoy engaging in a series of activities ranging from purely recrea-tional, to work related, to deeper, more intimate sharing on the religious plane. In every situation the emphasis was on the natural affectivity of one sister for her companions and not any exercise of supernatural charity? Approximately 91% of the sisters responded thus providing the researcher with excellent material from which to construct four measures of cohesion. Three of these stemmed from analysis of who chose whom and how often. By diagrammatically presenting the chain of relationships resulting from tracing the choices of the most frequently chosen individuals as they re-lated to the others in. community, a distance factor was developed. Finally, a study was made of the average number of "good friends" that the sisters INDEX OF COHESION AS DEVELOPED THROUGH THIS STUDY Community z-score corrected distance use of per- average size order ranking z-scores factor sonality votes rank " A 1 1 1 1 1 B 3 2 2 2 2 C 8 3 5 6 6 D 2 5 4 4 3 E 4 7 3 5 4 F 5 6 9 9 7 G 6 4 7 3 5 H 9 10 8 8 l0 I ll 11 6 7 8.5 J 7 8 10 10 8.5 K 10 9 11 11 I1 4For a complete exposition of the steps involved in the research readers are referred to the original work by the author, Sister Jane Marie Kerns, A Quantitative Analysis o[ Size and Cohesion (unpublished M.A. thesis, St. Louis University, 1973). Size and the Cohesiveness oI Groups of Religious / 39 in each house claimed. In this phase of the project each respondent was permitted to define the phrase "good friend" in any way that she felt was adequate and then she was asked to tell how many such "good friends" she had in the~ community in which she lived. Analysis of this section revolved around both the absolute number of good friends claimed and the number proportionate to the size of the community. Interpretation of Results A word of caution is in order here. Before any interpretation of the results can be presented, it must be remembered that this study was de-signed to measure relative cohesion only. It cannot be stretched to comment on disunity, on morale, or on working efficiency of the groups involved; and it must be seen as a measure of natural affectivity--a factor which cannot be assumed to be the dominant motive force for most of the group's activity. This caution is necessary both to maintain a scientific discipline and also to prevent our losing sight of the supernatural aspects of community life that cannot have been explored in this kind of work. Be that as it may, it is still remarkable to notice that the study revealed the presence of no isolates--persons not chosen by any other members of a group--in any of the eleven communities totaling 141 religious. Not only are there no iso-lates, but in actual count there is no, member of any community who was not chosen by at /east 21% of the members of the community who re-plied--- by no fewer than 50% of the members in 7 out of the 1! com-munities. Therefore, it can be insisted that we are justified only in conclud-ing to relatively more or less cohesion but not to any implication of disunity or disaffection. Size as a Significant Factor It can be stated unequivocally that the empirical evidence presented points to size as a significant factor in the study of cohesion. There is every reason to conclude that the smaller, the group, the more the members demonstrate stronger natural choices for a wider segment of the group. But hidden within this general overall conclusion are several important considerations that must be brought to light. Whereas the techniques used here demonstrated the validity of the commonly held belief that small groups tend to be more cohesive, the ques-tion dealing with friendship upset the commonly held expectation that more good friendships are found within small groups and that theoexistence of such friendships is the reason for greater cohesion. From our study the results indicated that such a line o[ r~easoning is faulty. In the first place, smaller houses reported neither a greater number of friendships absolutely nor a greater number proportionately speaking. Hence, friendship and co-hesion are not synonymous nor are they positively related. Rather, it might be concluded that they are alternatives within the group process. 40 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 Two possible lines of thought might be adduced to explain the seeming contradictions posed by the fifth stage of the investigation. First, by de-veloping and combining some of the thought of Simmel~ and of Mancur Olson'~ with regard to small groups, a synthesis can be arrived at which sheds light on the subject. Simmel's contribution springs from his conten-tions that smaller groups have qualities, including types of interaction among their members, which inevitably disappear when the groups grow larger. Olson points to a major difference between large and small groups when he formulates as a principle: ". the larger the group, the less it will further its common interests." Second, by appropriating some of the insights of Sister Joan Michele Rake7 and blending them with the thought of Simmel and Olson, the contradiction of fewer friendships in more cohesive groups is dissolved. Sister Joan Michele draws the boundaries between "engulf-ment" by the community and self-development of the healthy religious who makes good use of the structures of community. Hers is not so much a study of the effect of size but rather a clarification of issues on some of the dynamics at work in any group. The Specifics of Small Groups Consider the relative investment that members of a small group must make in order to obtain the benefits of membership and conversely the mag-nitude of the slack that must be taken up by the remaining members if one member fails to carry his own weight. More specifically, consider the num-ber of functions that must bc performed smoothly if life in the house is to be mutually beneficial. Since the small group enables not only face-to-face rela-tionships but even more importantly, person-to-person contact and consul-tation, many of the decisions reached and the functions implicit in the religious life lived in community are arrived at and disseminated tacitly. For example, each one knows from personal experience that does not need explicitation that communal worship can only be consummated if the com-munity is present and each one knows that in a small house her absence is both noticed and keenly felt. The differential involved is not merely a quan-titative one, but actually a qualitative one. There is a certain unspecified number below which communal worship declines into merely a collection of individuals attending the same liturgical function. And it is this height-ened sense of awareness of the qualitative contribution made by personal participation of each that typifies the small group. Person-to-person contact makes possible agreement--implicit or ex-plicit-- on common goals of a more specific nature than can be formulated '~Kurt H. Wolff, The Sociology o] Georg Simmel (Glencoe: Free Press, 1950), p. 87. ~;Mancur Olson, The Logic o] Collective Action (New York: Schocken, 1968), p. 36. rSister Joan Michele Rake, Friendship in Religious Li]e (unpublished M.A. thesis, Duquesne University, 1969), Chap. 7. Size and the Cohesiveness of Groups o]. Religious / 41 when a larger number of individuals is involved. And converSely, devia-tion from the commonly accepted ideas is more obvious and therefore re-quires more of an expenditure of psychic energy for continued adherence on the part of the deviant and more of an effort on the part of the group as a whole to combat either by modifying the idea or by converting the deviant member. Whether we speak of positive elements that tend to unite or of negative elements that tend to threaten the group's solidarity, there is more immediate response required, a greater expenditure of personal effort on the part of each member in the small group, and a return in the way of benefits of group membership commensurate with the effort expended. The Specifics of Large Groups In the large group the sahae level of return is expected, but the level of expectation of individual participation is lower. Since person-to-person com-munication on. :every issue and between every set of persons is too time-consuming and too indeterminate in the process of seeking consensus, cer-tain abstractions in the form of community mechanisms, offices, and so forth must be established and these become looked upon as the expression of group cohesion that can no longer be immediately and obviously attained. The areas of shared ideas becom6 somewhat more general and, therefore, more readily acceptable to the total group in spite of the greater variety of opinions. In turn these more abstract expressions of relations and more general types of agreements require less commitment on the part of the individual. Though the ideas themselves may be less "radical," less basically rooted in the peculiar characteristics of the group, more generalized, ad-herence to the ideas becomes more radical, more a bare minimum that can-not be sacrificed if group unity is to be maintaini~d. A full complement of the members is not required to constitute a "com-munity presence." Absenteeism is not as noticeable--certainly not as per-tains to the particular individual who is absent, since her personal contribu-tion has in some ways become distanced or formalized in the large group setting. Differences between Small and Large Groups Wha~t results from the above discussion is an argument to the effect that the demonstrably greater cohesion among the small group members results more from a heightened sense of personal investment and personal con-cern, a greater consciousness of the personal element in the affairs of the house, a greater consonance between the individual's own approach to life since his personality enters more fully into the determination of group atti-tudes, a greater sense of the interdependence of the persons in the com-munity in all its affairs---especially because they answer directly to and for each other. In the larger group some degree of personalism is lost as the sheer force of numbers demands some degree of abstraction and the substi- Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 tution of shared symbols that can be immediately present to all when the person-to-person common search for common understanding is not practi-cal, The sense of interdependence is therefore "once removed" with the result that the individual who has to expend less of herself in contributing to and in conforming to more general ideas is then .freer to develop inde-pendently of the group in more areas. Not only is there in larger groups more room for individualism to fluorish and a greater variety of personality types emerging (assuming of course the absence of any rigorous pressure to conform in all respects), but this sharper differentiation among component personalities enables stronger, more particularized dyadic relationships to de-velop out of the shared responses. Hence, we see the application of Simmel's principle that the quantitative increase in size of a group leads to a qualitative differentiation ~on the part of the individuals.8 Simmel holds that an individual tends to maintain a certain balance between the social and the individual aspects of his life. When he is involvi~d in a small group with a high profile for cohesiveness or for strong identity as a group, he has little opportunity to express his own individuality--and little need to do so since there is satisfaction offered in the group. But when he is involved in a larger group with a less ~iell-defined profile, °one that is less consonant with his unique personality since it is necessarily more generalized, he then finds scope--indeed he must--to express his individuality. As the group gains in individuality ~(a situation that pertains to small groups), the individual loses and vice versa. The Question of Friendship Sister Joan Michele believes that wherever the "corporate mentality" is strong among religious--that is, a tendency to look on the group life as an exercise in efficiency--it will be more difficult for 'real friendships to grow. If friendship is ". an encounter between two persons. [which] results in an enduring nonexclusive relation which is lived as a gift of affinity and affection and occasions the autonomous growth of the persons involved,''~ it can only flourish where there is a real encounter of unique personalities --personalities well-developed, mature, sharing a common ground in .their search for truth, and coming, as it were, by chance upoh an unconscious, mysterious affinity that raises comrades, colleagues, and companions. above those levels of association to a new plane that is by no means the necessary consequence of living in community. Precisely what dynamics are generated by the presence of more or fewer dyadic relationships could not be explored in this project since the identity of "good friends" was not revealed; but it has been necessary to digress into these areas ever so slightly, simply to make the point that the cfn-~ 8Wolff, The Sociology o! Simmel, p. 87. '~Rake, Friendship, p. 52. Size and the Cohesiveness of Groups of Religious / 43 clusions reached in this research are quite validly and integrally consistent with the general direction of small group theory. Yet there is real danger that they may lend themselves to simplistic interpretations that do not con-vey the whole picture. The research has confirmed the theory that (1) community size does have a significant effect on the number of members with whom one can have good, positive relationships---both the absolute number and the proportionate number of members; and that (2) the smaller size communities are the ones that exhibit these good, posi-tive relationships more frequently. Equally important, however, are the findings resulting from the question on friendship; namely, the members living in larger groups tend to report both a greater number of "good friends" and to consider a greater proportion of members of the com-munity in the category of "good friends." The above statement when coupled with the theory of writers like Van Kaam, Sister Joan Michele, and even classical authors such as Simmel indi-cates there are ways in which the more cohesive small groups are at the same time more restricted in opportunities for developing friendship and that friendship might actually exist as an alternative to cohesiveness, not as a concomitant element. Practical Conclusions Taking a step beyond the scientifically validated conclusions of the study itself and addressing the practical value of all this for the present-day religious community, there are perhaps two major points to be considered. The first point of practical concern for religious is the importance of the absence of isolates from the communities studied and the commentary this is on the ability of religious who share the overall goals of the religious institute to assimilate members into a community even when religious have no voice in choosing where or with whom they will live. Though this point cannot be pushed beyond the limits mentioned earlier, it can be cited as evidence that the freedom in assigning personnel that has been a plus factor enabling religious groups to function efficiently in the apostolate is not in and of itself incompatible with the desire to provide living condi-tions that foster good interpersonal relationships. The second point to be made is that decisions regarding community size (where circumstances allow for either possibility) might reasonably be made in favor of smaller community groups at a time when the call to re-newal emphasizes our need to search together for a more radical commit-ment to the essence of religious life. If sociologists and psychologists are correct in their assessment of the differential in ability of various size groups to reach consensus at various levels of abstraction, certainly religious would do well to make use of this knowledge in their efforts to re-create 44 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 in the Spirit the shared faith that brought their institutes into being. Further-more, if the members of congregations are appraised of what can and cannot be achieved in groups of various sizes, realistic expectations can constitute solid foundations auguring well for solid progress. Structures of themselves will never cure. But they can facilitate if used wisely, and they can hinder if used poorly or ignored. Size is not of itself a panacea, nor a Pandora's box. Perhaps we have mistakenly held in the past that the same quality of religious life can exist with six or sixty in the community. As we eschew past folly, let us not perpetuate new foolishness by assuming that small size will do more than facilitate the emergence of a faith sharing which will depend for its quality, not on numbers but on the grace of God realized in the lives of those who grow together toward the fulfillment of their covenant with both God and His People. The Liturgy of the Hours in Religious Communities John Allyn Melloh, S.M. Father John Allyn Melloh, S.M., a member of the School of Divinity of St. Louis University, lives at the Marianist Residence; 4528 Maryland Avenue; St. Louis, Missouri 63108. The Liturgy of the Hours should not be looked on as a beautiful monument of a past age, to be preserved almost unchanged in order to excite our admira-tion. On the contrary, it should come to life again with new meaning and grow to become once more the sign of a living community.--The General Instruc-tion on the Liturgy of the Hours, paragraph 273 Reform, renewal, restoration of the liturgy is always one of the paramount concerns of any ecumenical council; Vatican II was no exception. Desirous of "imparting an ever increasing vigor to the Christian life of the faithful" (Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, paragraph 1), the Council fathers placed liturgical reform top on the list of their priorities. If the liturgical celebrations of the People of God were to be a "foretaste of that heavenly liturgy which is celebrated in the holy city of Jerusalem toward which we journey as pilgrims" (Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, paragraph 8), then much renewal was needed, lest the pilgrim people of Yahweh seek a new city-~one where celebration was indeed a reality! Restoration of Eucharistic praxis, as well as an updating of other sacra-mental ritual celebrations, was essential for the nourishment of Christian piety and the mediation of the salvific graces to all mankind (Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, paragraph 1 !). Equally important for the liturgical life of the ekklesia was the restoration of the Divine Office, the Liturgy of the Hours, the "public prayer of the Church" (Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, paragraph 90). In the age of aggiornamento, this "wonderful song 45 46 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 of praise" (Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, paragraph 84), which had all but entirely disappeared, had to be revived; and a genuine "revival" was needed for the "voice of the bride addressed to her bridegroom" (Constitu-tion on the Sacred Liturgy, paragraph 83) had become mute. This "very prayer which Christ himself, together with his body, addresses to the Father," had become, over the ages, a prayer which Christ, along with a few isolated members--becoming fewer day by day--of His Church addressed to the Father. The opus Dei had become the onus Dei.t General Instruction on the Liturgy of the Hours Almost ten years later, in February 1971, the Sacred Congregation of Divine Worship issued the General Instruction on the Liturgy of the Hours. In five chapters, full of good solid Christology, ecclesiology, and spirituality, this document speaks of the Liturgy of the Hours as a viable prayer form for the Church--even in 1973! Perhaps one of the most significant Roman documents issued of late, and certainly the longest and most theological document ever issued on the topic of the Divine Office, the General Instruc-tion makes clear that the intent is the restoration and revitalization of the Liturgy of the Hours. The "ptiblic and communal prayer of the people of God is rightly considered among the first duties of the Church" (General Instruction, paragraph 1), for the ekklesia is most itself, achieves its own special identity, and fulfills its mission when the assembly is together at prayer, especially at liturgical prayer. Vatican II has consciously and firmly asked that~the Liturgy of the Hours once again be prayed, that this prayer form once again be given life by the living People of God--that it may become a living prayer and that the entire Church may "offer praise to God . . . in singing that canticle of praise which is sung throughout all ages in the halls of heaven" (General Instruction, paragraph 16). The New Book of the Liturgy of the Hours A day to be hailed in litui'gical circles was 23 June, 1971, for on that day, L'osservatore romano published Laudis canticum, officially promulgat-ing the new book of the Liturgy of the Hours. The work of Vatican II and its liturgical commission had borne fruit. The new edition of that book once called the "Breviary" had been arranged and prepared in such a way as to encourage the faithful to celebrate the hours. Once again, this necessary complement to Eucharistic worship and sacramental practice was restored so that it would become "the prayer of the whole people of God" (Laudis canticum, L'osservatore romano, page 1 ). At least now there was a chance that should one of the faithful stumble across the Prayer of Christians he might recognize it! In the new edition--albeit interim--of the Liturgy of the Hours genuine reforms were made. Structure of the hours was modified, the cycle of Psalmody changed, intercessor3/prayer introduced--all with a view to pub- The Liturgy of the Hours in Religious Communities / 47 lic celebration of the Hours of Prayer. In its restored form, the Divine Office was to be a "font of piety and nourishment for personal prayer" (Laudis canticum, L'osservatore romano, page 1 ). Toward a Revitalized Celebration The documents of Vatican II, the General Instruction on the Liturgy of the Hours, Laudis canticum--all ask that the prayer of Christ be con-tinued by the members of His Body; earnestly they request that this prayer of Jesus be continued in the revitalized celebration of the Liturgy of the Hour's. It is in our spatio-temporal matrix that groups of praying men and women can continue this prayer of the Lord who lives ever making inter-cession for us (Heb 7:25). Communal prayer will once again take root in the Church at large, replacing, in part, private prayer, especially that form of private recitation of the Office which is a liturgical anomaly. Once again the Church-united may celebrate the prayer of the Hours "to give Him glorious praise" (Ps 66:2). The General Instruction on the Litu.rgy of the Hours, despite the wealth of genuine theological principles and very fine material for meditative re-flection, is rather weak in detailing how the Liturgy of the Hours may "be celebrated in communities--"celebrated" as opposed to "recited," "said," or "read." In the following pages, it is my intent to ,describe how the Liturgy of the Hours is celebrated in our Marianist community in St.Louis, Missouri; likewise, since Evensong was celebrated each evening at St. Mary's University in San Antonio, Texas, during the. 1973 summer session, using the same format of celebration, I would like to include comments from those who participated in those liturgical celebrations. Morning Praise Matins consecrates to God the first movements of our minds and hearts; no other care should engage us before we have been moved with the thought of God, as it is written, "I thought of God and sighed" (Ps 76:4), nor should the body undertake any work before we have done what is said, "I say this prayer to you, Lord, for at daybreak you listen for my voice; and at dawn I hold myself in readiness for you, I watch for you" (Ps 5:4-5).--The General Instruction on the Liturgy o] the Hours, paragraph 38; quotation from St. Basil Morning itself conveys the notion of rebirth and renewal; the gift of God--a new day to be lived out in Christ--stirs the soul of the Christian to prais.e and to supplicationl The character of the Morning Office quite naturally becomes an act of dedication, of preparation, of offering the first fruits of the day's labor to the Lord, in the hope that the entire day will be pleasing in His sight. As Morning Praise is celebrated in our community, a vested celebrant enters the chapel and greets the community after reverencing the altar. A Morning Hymn is sung; this hymn thematically recalls the symbol of God who is light (1 Jn 1:5) and of Christ who is the Sun of Justice (Mal 4:2). Review for Religious, I"olume 33, 1974/1 Praise and thanksgiving for light--both natural and supernatural-colors the sung praise of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. A redeemed people, brought from darkness to the kingdom of God's beloved Son (Col l:13), from darkness of idolatry to the light of the Gospel, we praise our God for crea-tion, for redemption--for the light of day and the light of Christ. A brief penitential rite--an offering of incense--follows the hymn. During the incensation of the standing community, Psalm 51 or 63 is sung. St. Basil explains: "When day is breaking, all together, as from one heart, sing the Psalm of confession [Ps 51] to the Lord, each one making his own these words of repentance." John Chrysostom points out that Psalm 63, an ardent cry of longing for the Lord, is also a Psalm of purification, giving voice to the Christian's awareness of his weakness and need for the loving mercy of the Lord. A collect concludes this brief prayer for purification and readies the community for the celebration of the Word of God. The community is seated during the singing of the morning Psalmody. Psalms of praise, especially the traditional morning Psalms 148 through 150, are used. Ordinarily, only one Psalm is sung and the usual mode of singing is responsorial. Psalms are chosen according to themes well suited for a morning prayer. A significant pause for silent prayer follows the singing of the Psalmody. An appropriate Psalter collect, stressing praise of the beneficent God, concludes the sung Psalmody. An adequate rhythm of community prayer is enhanced through the use of lectio continua in Morning Praise. Especially appropriate are Old Testa-ment selections; since the Epistles and Gospels are proclaimed during the celebration of Evensong or the Eucharist. The choice of readings varies with the Church year. After a period of silence of several minutes, all stand for the singing of the Gospel Canticle of Zachary, which accompanies the offering of incense. As a symbol of intercessory prayer "going up" in the Lord's sight (Rev 8:3-4)--a survival of the Temple usages described in Exodus 29 and 30-- the offering of incense is made at the altar, which is then incensed. Intercessory prayer is generally a brief morning litany which concen-trates on themes of renewal, dedication for the work of the day, prayer for God's continual blessing throughout the day. Usually the prayer is sung; and on penitential days the community kneels for this prayer, which is con-cluded by an appropriate collect. The Lord's Prayer, which Tertullian has called the "epitome of the Gospel itself," that eschatological prayer which stresses the primacy of the kingdom and the life of those living in it, can be considered the climax of the Office. The prayer is always sung and the congregation prays it in the usual orans position. A blessing concludes the Morning Office--the prayer of praise of God, of thanksgiving for creation and redemption, and of ardent desire for the life of the Kingdom. The Liturgy of the Hours in Religious Communities / 49 Evensong Our fathers did not think it right to receive the blessing of evening light in silence. Rather, the moment it appeared, they would praise and thank God for it.--St. Basil, Treatise on the Holy Spirit As day is drawing to a close and the evening is upon us, the Christian community gathers to give thanks "for what has been given us during the day, or for the things we have done well during it" (St. Basil, Regulae fusius tractatae, Resp. 37, 3; PG 31, 1015). With an evening light service, the celebration of Evensong commences. To the proclamation: Jesus Christ is the Light of the world! intoned by a vested deacon, the congregation responds: A Light that no darkness can extinguish! During the ceremonial illumination of the church, the lighting of the candles and the lighting of the chapel lights, an evening hymn is sung. Ordinarily the Phos Hilaron is sung in one of its several settings, or another appropriate evening hymn, stressing the theme of Christ our Light, is sung. A diaconal proclamation, an act of thanksgiving for the blessings of light and an act of praise of God, concludes the light service. An evening act of contrition, an offering of incense, follows; and Psalm 141, "The Psalm at the kindling of lights," accompanies the liberal incensa-tion of the community. This offering of incense, an atonement symbol (Num 17:11-3), is a purificatory action. It should help the Christian com-munity recall the "sweet odor of Jesus Christ" (2 Cor 2:14-6) and be a symbol expressive of that saving blood of the Lamb who ever lives to make intercession for us (Heb 7:25). An appropriate Psalter collect is a conclu-sion to this ritual action. Evening Psalmody is sung responsorially. Ordinarily only one Psalm, in addition to Psalm 141, is sung in the evening. Evening themes of thanks-giving for the blessings of the day and repentance for inevitable daily failings can be found in the Psalter. Such Psalms are appropriate for the evening Office. A period of meditative silence of significant length follows the sing-ing, and this period of prayer is concluded with the praying of a collect. The reading from Scripture is taken from the cycle of readings in the new lectionary. Customarily, Epistle and/or Gospel readings are used in the evening. A homily is preached when Evensong is celebrated immediately preceding the community evening dinner. The period of meditative silence is broken by the singing of the Gospel Canticle of the Virgin Mary which accompanies the offering of incense. In line with the use of incense as a symbol of intercessory prayer, the altar is honored with incense to affirm our belief and real participation in the com-munion of saints (Rev 8:3-4). Gospel Canticles, reverenced as the good news of salvation, are always sung standing. A fundamental part of Christian prayer, intercession for the universal needs of the Church and the world, is offered, following the urgings of Paul (1 Tim 2:1-4). The traditional Byzantine Litany of Peace is often 50 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 sung as one form of intercessory prayer. Other litanies are also used. One of the most famous and popular of the Eastern hymns is the Tri-sagion, which came into wide usage after the Council of Chalcedon in the fifth century. A hymn of Trinitarian praise and thanksgiving as used with the doxology, it is a fitting introduction to the prayer given us by Jesus. It is essentially of the same prayer style of praise and thanksgiving as we find in the prayer given by Jesus and as such it is a beautiful sung introduc-tion. Expressing an ardent desire for the coming of the kingdom and a solemn plea for the forgiveness of sin and genuine fraternal reconciliation, the Lord's Prayer is a most fitting conclusion to the Christian Office. A solemn blessing, most often tripartite in form, is the dismissal of the community, an invocation of the power of God upon the assembly and a petition for the mercy and loving kindness of the Almighty Lord in whose name we have gathered. At times, the Kiss of Peace is exchanged at the conclusion of Evensong, as a symbol of the peace of the kingdom, that peace which alone can be given by the Lord of that dominion. ' Resurrection Vigil of the Lord's Day Come,O faithful: let us drink a new drink, produced miraculously not from a barren rock, but springing from the tomb which is a fountain of immortality: the tomb of Christ by which we are strengthened. Glory to your holy resurrection, O Lord! Today the whole creation, he~iven and earth and the deepest abysses of the earth are filled with joy. Let the whole universe celebrate the resurrection by which we are strengthened. Glory to your holy resurrection, O Lord! Yesterday I was buried with You, O Christ! Today I rise with You in your resurrection. Yesterday I was crucified with you: glorify me with you in your kingdom. Glory to your holy resurrection, O Lord! Christ is risen from the dead! He has crushed death by his death and bestowed life upon those who lay in the tomb. Glory to your holy resurrection, O Lord! Jesus is risen indeed, as He had foretold: He has given us eternal life and abundant mercy.--Third Ode, Easter Canon of John of Damascus Byzantine Daily Worship, Easter Sunday, page 849 These words contain the spirit of unrestrained joy of the Christian who encounters the Paschal Mystery of the Lord Jesus. The sense of triumph, of joy, of exultation, and of hope permeate this entire text. While the vigil of the Easter celebration of the resurrection is truly "Mother of all Vigils," nevertheless a weekly commemoration of the Pascha of the Lord is in the mainline tradition of the Church. The celebration of the Resurrection vigil of the Lord's Day, which takes place at eleven o'clock Saturday evening, is a wonderful preparation for the Eucharistic Banquet of the Lord's Day. It is a rich and deep experi-ence of the mystery of the passion, death, and resurrection of our Lord and The Liturgy o] the Hours in Religious Communities / 51 Savior Jesus Christ, celebrated communally with hymnody, Psalmody, and readings. The Night Watch, that time when we gather as a community, to recall the resurrection of Jesus and to pray for His glorious return, is a service of the Word celebrated with grandeur. The chapel is in darkness awaiting the appearance of the New Light. A vested presbyter and vested deacon enter, bearing the lighted Paschal Candle. The diaconal proclamation of Christ as the Light of the World begins the celebration, and the ceremonial illumina-tion of the church is accompanied by the singing of the Phos Hilaron. A Byzantine setting of Radiant Light, arranged for three-part singing, is a magnificent hymn of light praising Father,' Son, and Holy Spirit. The Paschal Candle is honored with incense during the singing. The deacon sings Hip-polytus' Easter Hymn or the Paschal Praeconium, giving voice to the joyful thanksgiving of the Christian assembly. The singing of Psalm 141, with its accompanying offering of incense, is polyphonic. While this ritual action is an evening act of contrition, it is nevertheless a joy-filled, because confident, plea for the loving kindness of the Lord who always awaits with eagerness the return of those who have been unfaithful. Concluding this action of repentance is an appropriate collect. At times the singing of Psalm 141 is omitted in favor of using a differ-ent Psalm, one with Paschal overtones. The second Psalm, sung respon-sorially, takes on a Paschal character through the use of alleluia antiphons. The great cry "Alleluia" re-echoes in the hearts of those who have experi-enced the risen Lord and Psalms of praise express the gratitude of the as-sembly for the Great Passage of the Lord. One of the charismatic speeches recorded in Acts with a sung respon-sorial Psalm or an appropriate patristic reading is the First Lesson, followed by a distinct pause for reflection on and assimilation of the text. The Gospel Alleluia is intoned as the Book of Gbspels is incensed. The account of the Resurrection is sung by the d

Issue 32.3 of the Review for Religious, 1973. ; Review ]or Religious is edited by faculty members of the School of Divinity of St. Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copy-right ~) 1973 by Review /or Reqgious. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $1.25. Sub-scription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year; $11.00 for two years; other countries, $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to Review ]or Religious in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent Review ]or Religious. Change of address requests should include former address. R. F. Smith, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor May 1973 Volume 32 Number 3 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to Review for Religious; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts, books for review, and materials for "Subject Bibliography for Religious" should be sent to Review for Religious; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19106. The Anointing of the Sick Paul VI The following is an English translation of an apostolic constitution dated November 30 1972 but not made publicly available until January 18 1973. The constitution represents updated provisions for the administration of the sacrament of the anointing of the sick. Subtitles in the following have been added by the editor. The Catholic Church professes and teaches that the sacred anointing of the sick is one of the seven sacraments of the New Testament, that it was in-stituted by Christ, and that it is "alluded to in Mark (Mk 6: 13) and recom-mended and promulgated to the faithful by James the Apostle and brother of the Lord. "If any of you is ill," says James, "he should send for the elders of the Church, and they should anoint him with oil in the name of the Lord and pray over him. The prayer of faith will save the sick man and the Lord will raise him up again; and if he has committed any sins, he will be for-given (Js 5:14-5).1 Ancient Testimonies From ancient times testimonies of the anointing of the sick are found in the Church's tradition, particularly her liturgical one, both in the East and in the West. Especially worthy of note in this regard are two testimonies: The letter which Innocent I, our predecessor, addressed to Decentius, Bishop of GubbioZ; and the venerable prayer used for blessing the oil of the sick: "Send forth, O Lord, your.Holy Spirit the Paraclete," which was inserted 1Council of Trent, Session XIV, De extrema unctione, Chapter 1 (see also ibid., Canon 1): CT, VII, 1, 355-6; DS, 1695, 1716. ZThe letter Si instituta ecclesiastica, Chapter 8: PL 20, 559-61; DS 216. 465 466 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/3 into the Eucharistic prayer:~ and is still preserved in the Roman Pontifical? In the course of the centuries in the liturgical tradition the parts of the body of the sick person to be anointed with holy oil were more explicitly defined in different ways, and there were added various formulas to accom-pany the anointings with prayers which are contained in the liturgical books of the various Churches. During ~the Middle Ages there prevailed in the Roman Church the custom of anointing the sick on the five senses using the formula: "Per istam sanctam unctionem et suam piissimam misericordiam indulgeat tibi Dominus quidquid deliquisti" ["Through this holy anointing and His most loving mercy, may the Lord pardon whatever wrong you have committed"], followed by an adaptive addition for each sense.'~ Conciliar Teaching In addition, the doctrine concerning sacred anointing is expounded in the documents of the ecumenical councils, namely the Council of Florence and in particular the Council of Trent and the Second Vatican Council. After the Council of Florence had described the essential elements of the anointing of the sick,'~ the Council of Trent declared its divine institution and explained what is given in the Epistle of St. James concerning the sacred anointing, especially with regard to the reality and effects of the sacra-ment: "This reality is in fact the grace of the Holy Spirit whose anointing takes away sins, if any still remain to be taken away, and the remnants of sin; it also relieves and strengthens the soul of the sick person, arousing in him a great confidence in the divine mercy, whereby being thus sustained he more easily bears the trials and labors of his sickness, more easily resists the temptations of the devil 'lying in wait' (Gn 3: 15), .and sometimes re-gains bodily health, if this is expedient for the health of the soul.''~ The same Council also declared that in these words of the apostle it is stated with suffi-cient clarity that "this anointing is to be administered to the sick, especially :~Liber sacramentorum Romanae Ecclesiae ordinis amti circuli ed. L. C. Mohlberg, ~'Rerum ecclesiasticarum documenta, Fontes," IV, Rome, 1960, p. 61; Le Sacra-mentaire Gregorien ed. J. Deshusses, "Spicilegium Friburgense," v. 16, Fribourg, 1971, p. 172; and see La Tradition Apostolique de saint Hippolyte ed. B. Botte, "Liturgie-wissenschaftliche Quellen und Forschungen," v. 39, Miinster in W., 1963, pp. 18-9; Le Grand Euchologe du MonastOre Blanc ed. E. Lanne, Patrologia orientalis, v. XXVII1/2, Paris, 1958, pp. 392-5. 4See Pontificale Romanum: Ordo benedicendi oelum catechumenorum et infirmorum et conficiendi chrisma. Vatican City, 1971, pp. 11-2. '~See M. Andrieu, Le Pontifical Romain au Moyen-Age, v. 1, Le Pontifical Romain du Xlle siOcle, "Studi e testi," v. 86, Vatican City, 1938, pp. 267-8; v. 2, Le Pontifical de la Curie romaine au XIIle sikcle, "Studi e testi," v. 87, Vatican City, 1940, pp. 491-2. C'Decretum pro Armenis. G. Hofmann, Council of Florence, I/I1, p. 130; DS 1324f. ~Council of Trent, Sessio XIV, De extrema unctione, Chapter 2: CT, VII,. I, 356; DS 1696. The Anointing ol the Sick / 467 those who are in such a condition as to appear to have reached the end of their life, whence it is also called the sacrament of the dying.''s Finally, it declared that the priest is the proper minister of the sacrament.9 The Second Vatican Council adds the following: " 'Extreme Unction,' which may also and more fittingly be called 'anointing of the sick,' is not a sacrament for those only who are at the point of death. Hence, as soon as any one of the faithful begins to be in danger of death from sickness or old age, the appropriate time for him to receive this sacrament has certainly already arrived.''1° The fact that the use of this sacrament concerns the whole Church is shown by these words: "By the sacred anointing of the sick and the prayer of her priests, the whole Church commends those who are ill to the suffering and glorified Lord, asking that he may ligthten their suffering and save them (cf. James 5:14-6). She exhorts them, moreover, to con-tribute to the welfare of the whole People of God by associating themselves freely with the passion and death of Christ (cf. Rom 8:17; Col 1:24; 2 Tim 2:11-2; 1 Peter 4:13).''11 Revision ot the Rite All these elements had to be taken into consideration in revising the rite of sacred anointing, in order to better adapt to present-day conditions those elements which were subject to change?'-' We have thought fit to modify the sacramental formula in such a way that, in view of the words of St. James, the effects of the sacrament might be better expressed. Further, since olive oil, which hitherto had been prescribed for the valid administration of the sacrament, is unobtainable or difficult to obtain in some parts of the world, we decree, at the request of "numerous bishops, that in the future, according to the circumstances, oil of another sort can also be used provided it is obtained from plants, thus being closer to the oil de-rived from the olive. As regards the number of anointings and the parts of the body to be anointed, it has seemed to us opportune to proceed to a simplification of the rites. Therefore, since this revision in certain points touches upon the sacra-mental rite itself, by our apostolic authorit3~ we decree that for the future the following is to be observed in the Latin Rite. SIbid., Chapter 3: CT, ibid; DS 1698. 'albid., Chapter 3, Canon 4: CT, ibid.; DS 1719. 1°Vatican Council II, Constitutio Sacrosanctum Concilium, 73: AAS, LVI (1964), pp. 118-9. 11Ibid., Constitutio Lumen gentium, ll: AAS, LVII i1965), p. 15. ~See Vatican Council II, Consiitutio Sacrosanctunt Conciliutn, 1: AAS, LVI (1964), p. 97. Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/3 The Future Rite The sacrament of the anointing of the sick is administered to those who are dangerously ill by anointing them on the forehead and hands with olive oil, or, if opportune, with another vegetable oil properly blessed, and by saying once only the following words: "Per istam sanctam unctionem et suam piissimam misericordiam adiuvet te dominus gratia Spiritus Sancti, ut a peccatis liberatum te salvet atque propitius allevet" ["Through this holy anointing and His most loving mercy, may the Lord assist you by the grace of the Holy Spirit so that when you have been freed from your sins He may save you and in His goodness bring you relief"]. In case of necessity however it is sufficient that a single anointing be given on the forehead or, because of the particular condition of the sick per-son, on another more suitable part of the body, the whole formula being pro-nounced. This sacrament can be repeated if the sick person, having once received the anointing, recovers and then again falls sick, or if, in the course of the same illness, the danger becomes more acute. Promulgation and Conclusion Having laid down and declared these elements concerning the essential rite of the sacrament of the anointing of the sick, we, by our apostolic au-thority, also appi'ove the Order of the anointing of the sick and of their pas-toral care, as it has been revised by the Sacred Congregation for Divine Worship. At the s, ame time, we revoke, where necessary, the prescriptions of the Code of Canon Law or other laws hitherto in forqe, or we abrogate them; other prescriptions and laws, which are neither abrogated nor changed by the above mentioned Order, remain valid and in force. The Latin edition of the Order containing the new rite will come into force as soon as it is pub-lished. The vernacular editions, prepared by the episcopal conferences and confirmed by the Apostolic See, will come into force on the day which will be laid down by the individual conferences. The old Order can be used until 31 December 1973. From 1 January 1974, however, the new Order only is to be used by all those whom it concerns. We desire that these decrees and prescriptions of ours shall, now and in the future, be fully effective in the Latin Rite, notwithstanding, as far as is necessary, the apostolic constitutions and directives issued by our predeces-sors and other prescriptions, even if worthy of special mention. Given at Saint Peter's in Rome, on the thirtieth day of November, in the year 1972, the tenth of our Pontificate. PAUL VI Candlemas Address to Sisters Paul VI I~[irihg the ceremony of the presentation of candles celebrated on February 2 1973, tHh Holy Father gave a talk on religious women presented here in the English trans-l~.[ ion published in Osservatore romano, English language edition, February 15 1973, pp. 3, I0. Oc~ursus, in Latin, Ypapant~, in Greek, was the name given to this festivity ifi ~he early Oriental Church. It meant the meeting, that is, the fact of meet-iO~ the infant Jesus, taken to the Temple of Jerusalem forty days after His bii:th, according to the law of Moses, to be offered to God, as belonging to Hiin. We all know that it was during this legal and religious rite that there tdok place the meeting with old Simeon, who, inspired by the Holy Spirit, r6~bgnized in Jesus the Messiah and proclaimed Him "a light for revelation t6 the Gentiles." Immediately afterwards there also took place the meeting with the venerable prophetess Anna, eighty four years old, who "came to give thanks to God, and spoke of the child to all who were looking for the r6demption of Israel" (Lk 2:38). A Me~;sianic meeting, therefore, which uil~s on prophetic significance and historical voice, and which publicly in-augurates the era of Christ, in-the very place sacred to worship of the one triJe God, and to the chosen People's awareness of its mysterious destiny. A Matter of Loyalties ,Well, let us begin our pious ceremony by giving the meeting, which gathers us here, the religious and spiritual significance which reflects, from s6ihe points of view, the one that the liturgy has us commemorate today. Ybh come here to carry out.an act of recognition of the mission entrusted t6 bur humble person, namely to implement and continue in time the mis- 469 470 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/3 sion of Jesus Christ, the light and salvation of the world. It is a meeting that expresses mainly two sentiments of yours, one of faith, faith in Christ, in His Gospel and His Church; the other of open adherence in filial respect to the Pope, your Bishop, to the apostle Peter, to whom the Lord entrusted the keys, that is, the authority of the kingdom of heaven, and at the same time the pastoral function over the whole Church. Aware of our human limits, we would be tempted to avoid this meeting, but the investiture of the apostolic office, transmitted to us in legitimate succession, forbids us to do so; in fact it lays upon us the important and sweet obligation to welcome it wholeheartedly. Yes, blessed by this meeting which offers us the welcome opportunity to have around us such a full, varied, and devoted assembly as the one that now surrounds us, which we ourself wished to see carefully arranged, in this monumental and holy basil-ica, not in our honor, but in yours, beloved and venerated sons. The meet-ing means unity, it means harmony, it means awareness of the hierarchial and organic society, which is at the same time religious and spiritual, that we together make up, love, and serve. The meeting means the Church, and here the Roman Church, the apostolic Church. Candle Rich in Symbolism This common awareness is made real and, as it were, experienced owing to the double fact of the presence of the representatives of so many ecclesial bodies, living in the same City, but not easily brought together in the same place and in the same ceremon3~; and the fact that each of these representa-tives comes bearing the offering of a candle, a symbo, l rich in multiple mean-ings, first and foremost the heartfelt bond whereby every institution repre-sented wishes to be connected in faith and charity with us, now brings us deep spiritual joy. We are honoring Christ together; together for Him and with Him we are honoring the Church. What else could make us so happy and bring us such consolation? We often think now that the great event, for which our century will be remembered, the Ecumenical Council recently concluded, was intended to serve, in the intentions of divine Providence, to revive, deepen, and harmo-nize that sense of the Church, which the conciliar doctrines have nourished with splendid themes, and which the evolution of the times requires to be more limpid and strong than ever. We are therefore full of joy and confi-dence when we have some almost tangible experience, however rapid and particular, of this "sense of the Church." How happy and moved we are to enjoy now with you, the ecclesial communion of our diocese! How easy it is for us to suppose that the Apostles, its founders, that its martyrs and its saints, with the Blessed Virgin, salus Populi Romani, are assisting us at this significant moment of spiritual meeting; nay more, to think of the mystery of the secret presence among us of Christ Himself, who promised to be in the midst of those gathered together in His name (Mt 18:20). Candlemas Address to Sisters / 471 Esteem |or Sisters We cannot fail to draw attention to a circumstance that characterizes this ceremony, and confers on it a splendid note of piety and solemnity. Do you see who has the larger and the better part in the Basilica today? It is the religi6us women. It is our sisters, it is the virgins and widows, consecrated to the Lord, living in Rome and belonging to our community. Greetings to you, beloved Daughters in Christ! You blessed religious, who have accepted our invitation to this meeting, whose purpose, as we said, is to gather us round the Messianic mystery of the presentation of the infant Jesus in the Temple and thus express the network of spiritual and canonical bonds which gives form and substance to religious and social unity in the Church of Rome. Why did we wish the "Roman" sisters (the fact that. they live or even are temporarily staying in our Diocese, qualifies them as such), to have a distinguished place in this assembly today? Oh! For many reasons! We will mention some of them. It is our wish that the diocesan community should have an opportunity for once to show its esteem and affection for these chosen daughters, humble and strong. They are not out on the fringe, no, they are the flowers of its garden. It is our wish that the style of their "evangelica testificatio," of their evangelical testimony, should be honored and vindi6ated in view of the devaluation of laicism which would like to secularize even the most ardent souls, those following most faithfully in Christ's footsteps. It is our wish that a reawakened gen-erous sensitivity of the community of the faithful should not forget the needs of the poorer sisters, often without the means of subsistence. It is our wish that the ascetic, contemplative tradition of religious life, or the active one, should be recognized by everyone, by the ecclesial community particular~ly, as valid and relevant updated as it must be according to the spirit of the recent Council and according to the norms suggested by the documents of this apostolic See, in conformity with ihe renewing effort that the individual religious families have succeeded in imparting to their own way of life, some-times wearisome and purely formal, by means of the wise revisions of their statutes, studied and carried out in their recent general chapters. It is our wish that the specific vocations which qualify religious institutes such as pray.er and penitence, isolation and silence for the purpose of more intense inner absorption in the pursuit of convers'ation wit'h God, or tireless dedica-tion in arduous and providential educational work, or in expert assistance to the sick or the various social needs, or with regard to the Catholic missions, and according to the inventive genius of their piety and their charity--it is our wish that these vocations should be given an honorable and organic place in the ecclesial structure, even, perhaps, by means of some sacred initiation. It is our wish, furthermore, to promote and perfect .the assignment of sisters, when they so desire and are qualified to do so, to cooperation in the pastoral ministry, particularly where there is a shortage of the clergy, or in parishes engaged in religious and moral assistance in popular districts and 472 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/3 poor suburbs, or in the desolate countryside. We want them to be together with the praying, teaching, operating, ~uf-fering, evangelizing Church, these generous and courageous daughters of ours, these pious and hard-working sisters of ours, these simple, dignified women, always exemplary, and, according to the title attributed to sincere members of the early Christian communities, holy! Following Mary's Way Oh yes! Beloved daughters of holy Church, let the spirit of communion by which she lives enter your houses, beyond the gates of your cloisters, into your souls, instilling the breath of the renewal desired by the Ecumenical Council, and giving you too, nay rather you especially, a vision of the great divine plans at work among mankind and marking its destiny with regard to its supernatural and eschatological salvation, just as they present to us our duties and our resources for the help necessary for the elevation of ~he world, its concord and peace. And here you have understood, blessed daughters, no less than eccles.ias-tics and laymen, and following the steps of the Blessed Virgin along the evangelic.al path interpreted by the liturgical rite we are celebrating, you come to the altar bearing, you, too, your symbolic gift, your candle. Y~ou make us think of the parable of the virgins of the Gospel of St. Matthew. You remind us of the many meanings that ritual and spiritual language at-tributes to the pure and primitive source of light, the candle. You give us the idea of recommending that you should make the candle the symbol of your persons" because of its uprightness and its sweetness, the image of innocen.c.e and purity; because of its function of burning and illuminating, for which the candle is destined, realizing in itself the definition of your life enti.rely destined for the one love, burning and complete, of the Father, for Christ, in the Holy Spirit, a fire-love. It is a love which, with prayer, example, action, providentially illuminates the room and the path of the Church and of the surrounding world. Finally, the candle is destined to consume itself in sile.nce, like your life in the now irrevocable drama of your consecrated heart: t~.he sacrifice, like Christ on the Cross, in a sorrowful, happy love, which will n.ot be extinguished on the last day, but surviving will shine forth forever in the eternal meeting with the divine Bridegroom. For you, for all those present, our Apostolic blessing, with affection_ate gratitude. The Supreme Court on Abortion' A Dissenting Opinion Patrick T. Conley and Robert J. McKenna Patrick T. Conley is associate professor in the Department of History at Providence College; Providence, Rhode Island 02918. His specialty is Constitutional History with degrees in both history and law. Robert J. McKenna is associate professor of Politics at Salve Regina College; Ochre Point Avenue; Newport, Rhode Island 02840. He is also a State Senator from Newport and is a specialist in Church-State relations. In the decade of the 1850s one of the most vexing constitutional questions concerned the status of slavery in the federal territories. For reasons which historians have not yet fully fathomed, this issue became a vent for the economic, emotional, psychological, and moral disputes generated by the institution of slavery itself. During this acrimonious debate three basic posi-tions emerged: ( 1 ) the pro-slave argument which held that Congress had a positive duty to protect a slave owner's property rights in the federal terri-tories; (2) a diametrically opposed view, advanced by anti-slavery Northern-ers, stating that Congress must ban slavery from the territories; and (3) the middle ground of "popular sovereignty" which left the decision on slavery to the residents of the areas in question. Then, in 1857, a Southern-dominated Supreme Court attempted toresolve this morally-charged dispute in what it considered to be a rational and impartial manner. The result was the Dred Scott Decision in which the Court novelly employed the procedural Due Process Clause of the Fifth Amendment to vindicate the Southern position. But it did so in disregard of historical precedents which made that view un-tenable. To compound its error, the Court contended that Negroes could not attain citizenship because such status contravened the intent of the founding fathers. The Dred Scott Decision did not resolve the great moral dispute over slavery and the status of the Negro in American society. It was so patently 473 474 / Review ]or Religious, Volutne 32, 1973/3 unsound that it was overridden--both by subsequent events and by the less violent process of constitutional amendment. The Decision of January 22, 1973 On January 22, 1973, the United States Supreme Court, in magisterial fashion, undertook to resolve another moral controversy in the case of Roe v. Wade, and a companion decision, Doe v. Bolton. These decisions con-cerned abortion, and here a right more fundamental than citizenship was at stake--in issue was the right to life. The Dred Scott analogy to Roe v. Wade is not an exercise in hyperbole; not only was a more basic right in-volved, but a much larger class was affected. In 1857, approximately 4,100,000 blacks and their descendants were judicially attainted; in 1973 alone about 5 million living human fetuses will be shorn of their natural right to life for at least the first six months of their existence. Unlike the Biblical decree of Herod, however, Roe v. Wade does not mandate a slaughter of the innocents. The Court, in fact, explicitly denied the contention of appellant Jane Roe (a fictional name) that a woman's right to an abortion is absolute and that she is entitled to terminate her preg-nancy at whatever time, in whatever way, and for whatever reason she alone chooses. "With this we do not agree," said Justice Blackmun for the major-ity. His statement was echoed by the Chief Justice: "Plainly, the Court today rejects any claim that the Constitution requires abortion on demand," affrmed Mr. Burge'r. Even the libertarian Justice Douglas admitted that "voluntary abortion at any time and place regardless of medical standards would impinge on a rightful concern of society. The woman's health is part of that concern; as is the life of the fetus after quickening." But though the decision was not a total victory for the abortion advo-cates, it was a substantial victory nonetheless. In essence, the Court con-cluded that a state criminal abortion statute, like that of Texas, which "ex-cepts from criminality only a life saving procedure on behalf of the mother, without regard to a pregnancy stage and without recognition of the other in-terests involved, is violative of the Due Process Clau~e of the Fourteenth Amendment." Mother's Alleged Right of Privacy The so-called right which the Texas abortion statute allegedly infringed upon was the expectant mother's right of privacy. In deference to maternal privacy the Court then proceeded to formulate the following abortion schedule: (a) "For the stage prior to approximately the end of the first trimester [the first three months], the abortion decision and its effectuation must be left to the medical judgment of the pregnant woman's attending physician; (b) for the stage subsequent to approximately the end of the first trimester [the second three months], the State, in promoting its interest in the health of the mother, may, if it chooses, regulate the abortion proce- Abortion / 475 dure in ways that are reasonably related to maternal health; (c) for the stage subsequent to viability [the final three months] the State, in promoting its interests in the potentiality of human life, may, if it chooses, regulate, and even proscribe, abortion except where it is necessary, in appropriate medical judgment, for the preservation of the life or health of the mother." Such was the fiat of the Court--a formidable pronouncement indeed. Justice Blackmun's rationale and argumentation, however, were not sufficient to support the Court's foray into the legislative domain because the decision contained several dubious moral, logical, biomedical, and legal contentions. The Question of Life First, the Court explicitly admitted that it "need not resolve the difficult question of when life begins . the judiciary, at this point in the develop-ment of man's knowledge, is not in a position to speculate as to the answer." Later it took notice of the fact that the Catholic Church, "many non-Catho-lics," and "many physicians" believed that life began at conception. In view of these considerations and the Court's candid admission of its own igno-rance, it seems incredible that the Court could proceed with confidence to schematize abortion according to the trimester system. It chided Texas for arbitrarily selecting conception as a basis for that state's abortion law, and then, in an equally arbitrary manner chose viability as the basis of its own formula. In effect, the Court said: "We do not know if human life exists prior to viability, but even if it does we choose not to protect it, and we bar the states from protecting it also." It has often been the practice of the Court when it could not resolve or define a key issue before it (like the nature of a "republican form of govern-ment") to declare the matter a political question and therefore nonjusti-ciable. If ever the doctrine of political question should have been invoked, it was when the Court asserted that the question of life's commencement was beyond its ability to resolve. To proceed in the face of that admission was reckless folly. It was, as stated by Justice White in his dissent, "an exercise in raw judicial power"; an "improvident and extravagant exercise of the power of judicial review." White could find "no constitutional warrant" for the Court's action, nor could he accept "the Court's exercise of its clear power of choice by interposir~g a constitutional barrier to state efforts to protect human life and by investing mothers and doctors with the constitu-tionally protected right to exterminate it." The Court did rush in, however, armed with its nescience regarding the origins of human life, and the results were disastrous. Rights of a Person and the Fetus Having thus disposed of the question of life, the justices examined four main theories regarding the point in time when the rights of a person at-tach to a human fetus, namely (I) conception, (2) quickening or first 476 / Review [or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/3 movement, (3) viability, or (4) birth. Justice Blackmun concluded that "the word 'person,' as used in the Fourteenth Amendment, does not include the unborn." Here the Court buttressed its contention with formidable but not insurmountable evidence. With equal effort it could have reached the opposite conclusion, especially in view of the fact that no evidence was adduced to show that the drafters intended to exclude the unborn when they utilized the word "person" in the various sections of the Constitution where it appears. In the absence of a clear constitutional intent, arising ho doubt from t, he fact that the particular problem raised in Roe v. W~ide never oc-curred to previous constitutional draftsmen, the Court should have exercised restraint. Compelling State Interest The Court has applied the "compelling state interest" standard to those legislative acts which have set up classifications or categories, the members of which have been deprived of equal protection of the law. In several recent opinions a majority of the Court asserted that the strictness of the standard for decision in cases involving classifications made by legislative bodies ¯ varies according to the nature of the right placed in jeopardy; the more fundamental the right involved, the greater was the judicial requirement to "carefully and meticulously scrutinize" thc classification in the light of the following principles: (a) As ihe right in jeopardy becomes more fundamental, the more perfect must be the relationship between the classification excluding a human group from the en-joyment of the right and the purpose for which the classification is made. (b) As the right involved becomes more ftmdamental, the more "compelling" the state or governmental interest must be in making a classification exc!iading certain human groups from the enjoyment of the right. In Roe v. Wade the Court has not practiced what it preached. In effect, it has established a judicial classification consisting of those unborn' humans who have not reached the stage of viability and has deprived thes6 individ-uals of their right to life by making them fair game for the abbrti0nist. Several learned anti-abortionists who presented an amicus curiae brief to the Court for its consideration made this valid observation. They argued that "because of the fundamental nature of life, the most compellin~ of all interests would have to be shown on the part of the Court in order to carve out such a classification, which would exclude the lives of unborn huinans from the protection of the law." The Court's Rationale The Court did, indeed, advance a rationale to justify its conclusions by claiming that "the right of personal privacy" is "broad enough to encompass a woman's decision whether or not to terminate her pregnancy," though ad-mitting that the right was "not unqualified and must be considered against Abortion / 477 important state interests in regulation." When the Court tried to explain why this alleged right of privacy was fundamental enough to override a state's in-terest in the protection of fetal life, the shallowness of its value system was glaringly revealed. Justice Blackmun justified abortion on the grounds of privacy because "maternity, or additional offspring, may force upon the woman a distressful life and future," cause psychological harm, bring "distress for all con-cerned," or place a social "stigma" on the unwed mother. These were the "weighty reasons" for excluding the unborn from the enjoyment of the right to life. Justice Douglas, in a concurring opinion arising out of Roe v. Wade and its companion case involving a Georgia abortion law (Doe v. Bolton), went to more ridiculous extremes. Childbirth, said Douglas, "may deprive a woman of her preferred life style and force upon her a radically different and undesired future." She would be required "to endure the discomforts of pregnancy; to incur the pain, higher mortality rate, and aftereffects of child-birth; to abandon educational plans; to sustain loss of income; to forego the satisfactions of careers; to tax further mental and physical health . . . and, in some cases, to bear the lifelong stigma of unwed motherhood." One could scarcely imagine a more amoral and hedonistic rationale. For the highest. court in a land which professes spiritual values and claims foundation "un-der God" to use such criteria to justify the extermination of human life is a tragic occurrence in every sense of the word. Here is humanism incarnate-- man has become God. Selfishness and Self-love The Court and the absolute abortionists, who occupy a more extreme position than the high tribunal itself, are essentially concerned about the "quality of life." Adolf Hitler had the same concern. It is both ironic and appalling that many individuals and groups who vociferously deplored Hit-ler's misguided attempts to improve the quality of life in Nazi Germany are in the vanguard of the current genocidal attack upon the unborn. The justifications for abortion expressed by Justices Blackmun and Doug-las are the epitome of human selfishness and self-iove. The countervailing evils of easy abortion were thrust aside by the Court. Among these baneful effects, according to Dr. Paul Marx, are "the denigration of the traditional sexual morality distilled from centuries of wisdom, the abandonment of self-control as an indispensable human virtue, the substitution of subjective whim for the priceless heritage of human knowledge, the enthronement of ultili-tarianism over principled morality, the devaluation of life itself, the ruina-tion of the moral basis of natural human rights, and the obvious opening to euthanasia." A society that countenances the brutality of aborticn is one in which psychological ills, irreverence for life, and sexual promiscuity are likely to proliferate. In sum, therefore, we have paid an exhorbitant price to sustain a woman's right to per, sonal privacy. 478 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/3 Right to Privacy a Fiction That alleged right, however, is more a judicial fiction than a verifiable fact. Even Justice Douglas frankly confesses that "there is no mention of privacy in our Bill of Rights," nor is the type of privacy claimed in Roe v. Wade specifically mentioned in any other section of the Federal Constitution. The Court invented this right in Griswold v. Connecticut (1965) when it held that a state law forbidding the use of contraceptives was unconstitu-tional in as far as the law applied to married persons. The Court advanced the so-called "penumbra" doctrine which held that various guarantees in the Bill of Rights impliedly create zones of privacy. In Roe v. Wade a woman's personal decision to abort her child was placed inside that judicially pro-tected private zone. In their attempt to vindicate this alleged right appellants used a scatter-gun approach by claiming that the Texas statute abridged rights of personal privacy protected by the First, Fourth, Fifth, Ninth, and Fourteenth Amend-ments. One of these random shots found its mark when the high court held that the right claimed by the appellants was "founded in the Fourteenth Amendment's concept of personal liberty." In recent years, the Court has developed a complex formula to protect those rights which it uncovers in the mysterious recesses of the Constitution from invasion by the states. The test traditionally applied to state social and economic legislation is whether or not the law (for example, the Texas abor-tion statute) has "a rational relation to a valid state objective." Had this test been employed in Roe v. Wade the state statute may have been upheld. How-ever, the Court devised a more stringent standard in Shapiro v. Thompson (1969) which held that as the right involved becomes more fundamental, the more "compelling" the state interest must be in passing a law which abridges that right. In Shapiro and subsequent rulings the "compelling state interest" standard was used only in situations involving the equal protection provision of the Fourteenth Amendment. Justice Harlan attacked this new criterion when he asserted in a Shapiro dissent that "when a statute affects only matters not mentioned in the Federal Constitution and is not arbitrary or irrational" the Court is not entitled "to pick out particular human activities, characterize them as 'fundamental,' and give them added protection under an unusually stringent equal protection test." Such action, concluded Harlan, "would go far toward making this Court a 'super-legislature.' " Yet the Court went even beyond this in Roe v. Wade--it not only held a woman's private right to abort her unborn child to be "fundamental"; it also expanded the stringent "compelling state interest" test in a novel way to embrace the Due Process Clause (shades of Dred Scott!). Dissenting Opinions The majority's decision regarding the fundamental nature of the particu-lar right of privacy asserted in this case was vigorously and persuasively at- Abortion / 479 tacked by Justice Rehnquist in a dissenting opinion: "The fact that a ma-jority of the States, reflecting., the majority sentiment in those states, have had restrictions on abortions for at least a century seems . . . as strong an indication as there is that the asserted right to an abortion is not., funda-mental. Even today, when society's views on abortion are changing, the very existence of the debate is evidence that the 'right' to an abortion is not so universally accepted as the appellants would have us believe," concluded Rehnquist. In support of this latter statement he could have cited with telling effect the results of the 1972 abortion referenda in Michigan and North Da-kota. In the former state the pro-life advocates polled 61% of the vote, while in North Dakota their total was an overwhelming 79%. The right of privacy asserted by the Court is not only absent from the express provisions of the original Constitution, the Bill of Rights, and later Amendments, it is not generally recognized by law, by custom, or by major-ity opinion. How could such an alleged right, therefore, be "so rooted in the traditional conscience of our people to be ranked as fundamental." The Court does not satisfactorily explain its startling judgment. It "simply fashions," says dissenting Justice White, "a new constitutional right for preg-nant mothers and, with scarcely any reason or authority for its action, in-vests that right with sufficient substance to override most state abortion statutes." Unalienable Right to Life The Court with equal effort could have "discovered" the unborn's right to life, invested it with "fundamental" status, and clothed it with judicial protection. This right is not explicit in any part of the Constitution, but, un-like the right to abort, it is recognized by law, by custom, and by majority opinion. It can also be inferred from the phraseology of no less a document than our Declaration of Independence: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Li[e, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness." Traditionally the term "creation" is applied to conception rather than to the other definable stages of fetal life. This line of argumentation is at least as formidable as the privacy doc-trine which the Court concocted, but unfortunately the Court used its legal legerdemain to uphold the right of privacy at the expense of the unborn's right to life--a strange choice indeed, especially in view of the solicitude shown by the Court for criminals under a death sentence in Furman v. Georgia (1972). A Flaw in Argumentation Such was the decision of tile Court in Roe v. Wade and its companion Doe v. Bolton. Almost as an afterthought, however, the Justices alluded to a serious flaw in the arguments of those who sought to uphold state abortion 480 / Review [or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/3 restrictions. The state appellees in Wade and Bolton asserted that the un-born's right to life was constitutionally protected by the due process clauses of the Fifth and Fourteenth Amendments. Yet the state statutes which they defended, especially Georgia's more "modern" law, allowed abortion in special circumstances: (1) if the life or health of the mother were endan-gered (this was the extent of the Texas statute); (2) if the fetus would very likely be born with a grave, permanent, and irremedial mental or physical defect; or (3) if the pregnancy resulted from forcible or statutory rape. As Justice Douglas was quick to observe, the Georgia statute permits fetal de-struction in several instances without regard for due process or the develop-mental stage of the fetus. Justice Blackmun in a footnote in Roe v. Wade also spotted the dilemma. Despite a broad proscription on abortion, an exception exists in every state, at least to save the life of the mother. "But if the fetus is a person who is not to be deprived of life without due process of law, and if the mother's condition is the sole determinant, does not the Texas exception appear to be out of line with the Amendment's command," queried Blackmun, "and why is the woman not a principal or an accomplice" to the killing? This in-consistency can only be effectively resolved by recourse to the position that any direct taking of the life of the fetus is a moral and legal crime for all involved. Our dissenting opinion to the Court's abortion ruling would be merely an intellectual catharsis and an exercise in frustration if the Court's action could not be overriden. Our purpose thus far has been to show that the decision was patently unsound from either a logical, biomedical, moral, or legal perspective. Hopefully this knowledge of the decision's infirmity will provide an incentive to secure its reversal. Thus, in conclusion we offer guidelines for those who wish to challenge the ruling and vindicate the rights of the unborn child. Guidelines for Action At the State level the legislature has several plausible options. First, it can take advantage of the Court's failure to resolve "the difficult question of when life begins." It can declare as a conclusive presumption "that life commences at the instant of conception." This legislative finding of fact will reestablish protection for the unborn child, at least until the issue is settled as to whether or not the Court will accept a legislative determination in this area. Abele v. Markle (342 F. Supp. 800), in which this issue is raised, is now pending on appeal. Second, the legislature can memorialize Congress to adopt a constitutional amendment to protect the unborn child. Third, the legislature can petition Congress to call a constitutional convention to act on this issue and on others where the Court has overstepped its proper juris-diction. Fourth, it can require that the father's rights be protected in those cases where he does not agree to have his child killed. North Carolina has Abortion / 481 enacted such a provision. Fifth, it can and should provide that no person or institution shall be required to assist in any way with an abortion if such an act violates the values of that person or institution. Despite these State remedies, however, the most effective counter-mea-sures can be wielded by Congress. For example, the Congress can adopt and propose to the states a constitutional right-to-life amendment. While this is a time-consuming remedy it is also one that would be decisive and relatively enduring. It is the best course of action to pursue. Second, Congress can pass an act to establish the start of life at the instant of conception and thus answer the key question sidestepped by the Court. Third, the Congress can also remove the power of the Supreme Court to hear appeals in this area by altering the Court's appellate jurisdiction. There is precedent for such a move in the case of Ex parte McCardle (1869) and in the OPA cases of the World War II era. Such a course of action may seem drastic, but the Court's abortion ruling demands a vigorous and effective response. The Dred Scott Decision's denial of the Negro's right to citizenship was only overcome by the concerted and forceful effort of those who thought the Court's opinion morally, historically, and legally unsound; can we do less for those living yet unborn than to vindicate their right to life itself? How to Write Good Constitutions Ladislas M. Orsy, S.J. Ladislas M. Orsy, S.J., is professor of theology and canon law at Fordham University; Bronx, New York 10458. To write constitutions for religious communities is a difficult job. It requires a great deal of grace and common sense. No document with pious generali-ties would do; something more practical is necessary. No wonder that great and good constitutions for religious are few and far between. The following rules for writing good constitutions are not exhaustive, but they can be of some help to those who are wrestling with the task of finding new bottles for the new wine that is presently fermenting in the Church and in religious communities. 1. Good Constitutions Respond to Present Needs and Give Stability for the Future A basic rule is that constitutions should incorporate lasting values. The writers should look beyond the present and should design structures which will uphold the community's spiritual inspiration for many years to come. Sound organization brings stability without stifling natural evolution. Let us take an example from secular history. The crisis and upheavals that many European states suffered in modern history were due largely to their constitutional instability. Unsatisfactory and weak structures contrib-uted to divisions and unrest and did not allow for healthy evolution. The relative stability and continuity that the United States experienced from the beginning is the fruit of the wisdom of th~ founding fathers who gave the country a reasonable instrument of government, broad enough to accommo- 482 How to Write Good Constitutions / 483 date developments, yet strong enough to keep the nation togetherl While European states were changing and rewriting their constitutions with an alarming rapidity, the United States remained faithful to the original one. Surprisingly, the constitutions conceived for the emancipated colonies re-main an excellent instrument of balance for a modern powerful industrial nation. Had the first drafters been clearer about the relationship of the States to the Union, maybe the Civil War could have been avoided--or it would have been fought under other pretext than the issue of the right to secede. Yet, even though the Civil War happened, the fact stands: Substan-tial stability was given to the nation through a well-designed constitution which did not hamper good developments. To incorporate lasting values means to look beyond our own times. Much that is up-to-date and fashionable today will look hopelessly out-of-date to future generations. Constitutions should achieve a certain timelessness. This can be done only by those who have some knowledge of past history. By looking back they have another point of reference than the present; their horizon is broadened. Of course, I am not suggesting that the past should be copied or codified in the constitutions; but I am suggesting that those who know the present and the past are better forecasters and planners for the future than those who are limited by the narrow vision of the present. If you are on the high seas and have no other point of reference than the spot where the boat is, you cannot plan any safe course for your future journey. Writers of constitutions who do not know the history of religious orders are like navigators who did not absorb the common pru-dence and learning of their ancestors. They did not learn the trade; they may rock the boat. No one should conclude, however, that the constitutions should not be a response to present needs. They should--with an eye on the past and the future. 2. The Constitutions Must Reflect the Spirit of the Gospel but They Must Contain Specific Provisions for a Given Community It is easy to write new constitutions by paraphrasing the Gospels, and leave it at that. The trouble with such constitutions is that whatever they say, it has been said much better, and usually more concisely, by the evangelists. Why should anyone bother to go to second hand sources about Christian life when he can go to the original ones? Good constitutions cer-tainly reflect the spirit of the Gospel; they should not be soulless legal docu-ments. Yet what makes them constitutions is that they integrate spiritual principles with practical rules and structures suitable for a given community. Lofty doctrine should lead to sensible rules that free the community for the service of God and men, and create a harmonious human and Christian en-vironment. It is right to speak about the beauty of community life, but that beauty should not be lost in chaos and confusion when it comes to vital decisions. Down to earth practicality is the mark of good constitutions. 484 / Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/3 3. The Constitutions Should be the Codification of a Way of Life That Has Proved Itself, Not a Blueprint Conceived in the Abstract and to Be Imposed on the Community When we reflect on the beginnings of religious orders and congregations, we do not find that the founders first wrote abstract constitutions and then looked for some persons who were prepared to try them out. Rather, they first gathered a group for a specific way of life, for a particular apostolic task, and when it all worked out and the group was forged together into one community, they committed into writing what they lived and experienced so intensely. Therefore, a community should not be afraid of letting good customs de-velop without any kind of fixed rules. If the love of Christ is alive among them and they have enough common sense, such a process should be possi-ble. A good system of planned and controlled experiments is more important in these years than the writing of new norms. But the experiments should be controlled; there should be a good machinery for the critical evaluation of new enterprises. The whole process of experiments is meaningful in the context of an ongoing conversion only. If the members are not moving toward Christ, but are just asserting rights and liberties without reference to Him, what started as renewal can end up as disintegration. Freedom in Christ is necessary for developing sensible practical rules. 4. The Constitutions Should Contain a Balance between Light and Dark-ness, Joy and Sorrow, Life and Death; They Should Be Similar to the Gospels We explain this rule by contrasting two mentalities. The one wants to put into the constitutions all the negative sides of Christian life, such as mortifi-cation, abnegation, penance, and so forth. A most depressing document would ensue; enough to scare away any healthy individual. The other wants to speak about the positive sides only, such as peace, joy, exultation, and so forth. A most uplifting document would follow--with hidden deception in it. Both mentalities are one-sided. The right approach is in a harmony that we find so well expressed in the Gospel of St. John. The light is there, but so often it is surrounded by darkness. Life is there, but it must go through the baptism of death. Also, the harmonious blend of frustration and enrichment is manifest in the Sermon on the Mount: "Blessed are the poor in spirit for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven." Poverty and wealth go hand in hand. Incidentally, such balance is necessary in our liturgical celebrations" too. There we commemorate the whole life of Christ, His death and His resurrec-tion. The uninterrupted, one-sided celebration of joy can become inhuman and unchristian; in this life we need the quiet rhythm of sorrow and joy, darkness and light, to prepare us for the great final acts of death and life. How to Write Good Constitutions / 485 5. Keep in Mind that Faith, Hope, and Love Have No Measure; Everything Else Must Be Measur~ed A Christian can n.eve,,r. '.'exaggerate" in faith, hope, and love. He knows no limits to believing in God, to trusting and loving Him, because these "vir-tues" are gifts of grac~ ari.d, they originate m God's boundless generosity. Of course a man can distorf'tlie meaning of the gifts, he can express them one- ~,' sidely, he can even refu.s:e.them. But if he is open to the Spirit, there is a movement in his heart ffia( has no limit; it can expand indefinitely. Faith, hope, and love have an affimty with God's infinityi their growth is not sub-ject to any human measure. In all other virtues arid" actions, there is a measure. There is no limitless progress. There is a point b'eyond which the movement of construction be-comes the demon of destruction. In other terms, change is not equivalent to progress. A community b~ifit on change regardless of measure will eventu-ally destroy itself. R~al~,[ogress consists in finding the right amount of change at any given tithe, ~d no more¯ There is an obvious comparison: If you drive and do not press the ac-celerator enough, you db hot move, you crawl; if you oress ~t too much you are heading for disa~t6r. Movement and speed alone do not guarantee safe arrival. The history of religious life would offer olentv of examples to illustrate this truth. Let us g~ve lU.~t One. St. Franms of Assxs~ certa.inly loved poverty. He went far m giving a@a~.y, what he had, even to the point of deposmng h~s clothes at the feet of his '~.]]gry father. He became a pilgrim with no shelter over h~s head. But he d~d not sell himself into slavery as he could have done w~th a little ingenuity. Nor did he give his time away; in fact, he jealously guarded it. He estabfi'~he~d ~a measure in poverty, his own measure no doubt, but a measure nonetti~le~.°]-lad he not done so, had he been bent on giving all by selling himself ~'tl~b infidels as a slave on some galley, he would not have been free enough to start a great religious movement, he ould not have had ume and leigure t6 wander around and compose the Canticle o~ the Sttn.! ~"" After Vatican Council 1I many religious communities made great prog-ress in renewal, but s~n6~of them never thought of finding the right measure in change. They become intoxicated with new things and the movement that began under the ~nsplranon of the Spirit may eventually carry them too far, to the very bnnk of d~s~ster. A good question }"o¯r "~a' "c~onstitutional assembly, or for a general chapter, concerning every single 'i~ss uce is: What is the right measure in this matter? The measure, of course, '~oes change from time to time; no community should become static. But even if the measure changes, there is always a measure. The rule should be.~. a~plied. . to community life, to prayer, to apostolic 486 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/3 work--to everything, except faith, hope, and love. In those three the com-munity should open itself to the Spirit of God who can fill the members with His gifts beyond their desire and expectation. 6. Remember That Rules Are Necessary, but Persons Give Life to a Community Paradoxically, we could say that good persons can prosper even if the constitutions are bad, or, that good constitutions lead nowhere without the right persons to apply them. This is not to demean good constitutions. They work marvels with good persons. And bad constitutions can harm people. Rather, the paradox is a way of stressing that persons, not rules, give life to a community. Many religious institutes worshipped their own structures before the Council; the slightest infringement to the rule was considered a disgrace be-fore God and man. Today they understand better that the rules are means to open our hearts to faith, hope, and love and therefore there is nothing ab-solute about them. But structure-worship does not change easily; mentalities survive longer than we care to admit. Much of the naive belief in the mysteri-ous saving quality of the rule has been transformed into a utopian trust in the redeeming strength of committees. Committees are all right, although with measure. The greatest inspira-tions in the history of mankind never came from a committee. Legend has it that the camel owes its shape to a committee that wanted to design a horse. Be that as it may, the camel is a useful animal if you want to cruise in the desert. Yet we would hesitate to entrust the reshaping of this creation to a committee; it is frightening to think what would happen to the graceful flight of the seagull, to the playful nature of the chipmunk, or the trunk of the elephant. Government by committees is not well suited to the care of .persons. Who can open himself fully to a committee? Person to person relationship is necessary in religious government. Not on the pattern of father and child, or mother and daughter, but on the pattern of a wise and trusted companion caring for another. Therefore, in religious life there should be a way of recurring to a person above and beyond all committees. Take the example of a religious who has a serious personal problem--not the type he cares to preserve on files. He needs a change, perhaps a different job, at a different place. How can be ex-plain it all to a personnel board? 7. Good Constitutions Assure Both Broad Consultation and Efficient Action Good government in apostolic religious institutes is based on broad con-sultation among the members and on efficient action by the one in authority when it is needed. There must be in the community an upward movement of ideas. Every member has a right and duty to contribute to the welfare of How to Write Good Constitutions / 487 all. Therefore, at the base there must be a structure to assure that each can speak his mind and is listened to with respect. The result of this initial con-sultation process will be a mixed bag of ideas. Some will be excellent, some harmless, some to be discarded; in all they will be a fair representation of divine inspiration and human limitation. Therefore, some way must be found to screen them. This happens through the system of chapters. At the pro-vincial chapter elected representatives choose some ideas and proposals out of many. Eventually, an even smaller group, such as the general chapter, selects the best suggestions and makes them into guidelines and constitu-tional rules for the whole institute. Why this complex procedure? Because each has a right to speak, and God can speak through the smallest ones. But religious life is inspired by un-reachable ideals; therefore you want to choose the best of all suggestions. The clue to succcss is a wise combination of democracy and selectivity. The whole upward movement of ideas is a slow process. It involves long con-siderations and discussions. It is the proper field for committee activity! The application of the abstract policies and of constitutional guidelines to concrete individual cases is a different matter. The movement should mostly originate at the top where a trusted person leads and presides; he is the superior general. He is there to translate the norm into everyday actions. He should act with prudence, with the help of qualified counsel, and he should be swift and e~ficient too. He deals with particular communities and with individual persons. They need decisions, and they need them without much delay. The superior general's government can be spoiled in two ways. First, by distrust. The community may impose the duty on him of endless consulta-tions and impose all sort of checks, all to avoid a mistake. The result is a hesitant temporizing administration. Second, by cluttering up the line of ex-ecutive government by committees. They are never good for action; they are necessary for sorting our ideas, for setting policies. The superior general should be accountable. He should be responsible to the general chapter and should give a full account of his stewardship when-ever it meets. He should be removable; but as long as he is in once, he should be. trusted and free to take intelligent risks. Sbme communities built so many safeguards around their superiors that no intelligent and inspired initiative can be expected from them anymore; the safeguards from real or imagined tyranny will assure mediocrity for some time to come. Authori-tarianism was bad enough, but slowness and indecisiveness on the executive" level does not promise well for the future either. Let us remember also that a bad decision given with speed is frequently better than a good decision given with delay. Decision means movement; if it is a bad choice it can be corrected as long as there is life. No decision means lack of movement and lack of life. It cannot even be corrected. In all, we propose a healthy cycle, intended mainly for apostolic corn- 488 / Review [or Religious, Volume 32, 197~,/3 munities. It begins with full consultations; it gives the ultimate power to the chap(er; yet it retains person to person relationships in government. But we do not propose this pattern with any rigidity. Its basic simplicity allows many variations according to the traditions and desires of different communities; it can even be combined with other systems. 8. Community Means Unity in Diversity; Diversity without Unity Destroys the Community How far can a community go in pluralism without destroying its cohe-sion? To answer this question, consider the unity in diversity that you find in an orchestra. The players have different instruments; they even play different melodies. Yet, the product is a symphony with depth and harmony. Har-mony is possible because there is a limit to this diversity. Pluralism in a religious community can be interpreted in two ways. It may mean differences that contribute to the unity of the group; or, it may mean differences, that do not have an internal finality toward unity. The former makes the community, the latter destroys it. It follows that before talk begins about pluralism and its extent, the com-munity must define the type of unity they desire to maintain. Once the mem-bers know how united they want to be in their life style, in their apostolic endeavor, they can determine how much pluralism they can allow. There is no general rule for the extent of pluralism a community can bear; the unity they need is the measure of it. 9. You Will Know the Tree by Its Fruit, but Remember Some Trees Take a Long Time to Bear Fruit The constitutions should provide for an ongoing evaluation of the com-munity, in particular of the new experiments. Chapters on local, 'provincial, and general levels can be good instruments of evaluation. Each session should begin with an examination of conscience: how far in fact the com-munity lived up to its ideals. Most chapters are looking into the future; they are planning sessions. They should give equal time to the past, not in the form of debate, but in the form of a prayerful examination of conscience. They should give a good critical look at the fruit that was recently produced. The word experiment underwent many changes. Often it is used for change, an illegitimate use. We all would gain by restoring its primal mean-ing which is "to test something under controlled circumstances so that the process can be judged and evaluated." If we need change, by all means let us have it, but we must not call it experimentation; if we need experiments, let us do them properly. But experiments in religious life are not the same as those performed by physicists. The stakes are high in religious life; the faith, hope, and love of the members can be affected. Besides, fruits mature slowly because the ulti-mate test for any experiment is its contribution to a climate in which the How to Write Good Constitutions / 489 community is more open .and receptive to the grace of God. Often many years will be necessary to know the value of an experiment. Early judgments can be rash judgments. Take the issue of formation. No one can fully evaluate a particular pro.gram of formation until those formed have gone through many tests and trio!s in their religious vocation. I0. Good Constitutions Cannot Be Composed under Stress Peace of mind and he.a.rt is a necessary condition for wisdom and inspira, tion. Polarization and division in the community is an obstacle to grace and to human creativity. The c_0mmunity must be healed before it can produce. A community not .at p.eace may be tempted to write constitutions by way of reaction to past or t.o pre.sent trends, or to search for a feasible compromise which will not represent any high ideal. A disturbed group should not write constitutions. Peace i~ ne~e~sary to receive the Spirit and to create good and lasting structures. A group's first duty is to create life in harmony and attend to the task of writing .afte.r they have found peace with God, with the C. hurch, and with each other. Conclusion Good constitutions a.re. a blend of spiritual wisdom and shrewd practical judgment. The form.e.r is given by God, the latter is the result of human creativity. Constitutions .c.a.,nnot take the place of faith, hope, and charity, but they can be a powev.f.ul instrument to keep the process of conversion alive in a community, The Nature and Value of a Directed Retreat Herbert F. Smith, S.J. Herbert F. Smith, S.J., a well known spiritual writer and director of retreats, is sta-tioned at St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. During the last decade there has been a rebirth of the directed Ignatian re-treat. The directed retreat is a marked departure from the familiar preached retreat in which we customarily spent some two hours a day hearing the word of God as it was spoken and interpreted by the retreat master. Origins in Experimentation The successful return of the directed retreat can almost certainly be credited to that widespread phenomenon of our day, the passion for experi-mentation. The experimental approach springs from a twofold conviction: that we can produce something better; and that, in an age wherein proliferat-ing options are overloading our decision-making powers, we must discover what is most relevant. We have all benefited from the experimental approach. Consider agri-culture. Ten years ago there was widespread talk of the impossibility of feeding the world's people. Today there is not. That is largely because, in the interval, agricultural experimentation was carried on in the Philippines to produce a new strain of wheat. The first objective was to produce a better wheat, one that would give a greater yield per acre. The second objective was produce a more relevant wheat, one hardy enough to flourish on poor land in cold climates. The result is 1R-3. It is revolutionizing the growth of wheat, turning traditionally wheat-importing countries to wheat exporters. In the field of religion, we have similar problems and similar inclinations. How can we raise up better Catholic Christians, people more in contact with 490 Directed Retreat / 491 God, more committed to Him, more faithful to the Church, more productive in the service of the kingdom? How can we form more relevant Catholic Christians, people who can responsibly handle the increased responsibility laid on each today? Enterprising men and women in the Church are pre-senting the directed lgnatian retreat as one answer. Is it? I think it is, but my objective here is not to give proof of that. My objective is rather to give information concerning the nature of a directed retreat. Judgments can come later. What is a directed retreat? I will proceed to answer that question by giving a series of progressively improving definitions until we ultimately reach the most illuminating definition I can provide. One-to-one Relationship The directed retreat is a retreat made neither alone nor in a large group; ]urthermore, it is made without the help of several talks a day. This incom-plete definition is meant to clarify the manner in which the directed retreat departs from the familiar preached retreat. The directed retreat involves one director and one retreatant operating in a one-to-one relationship. The di-rector may or may not be directing other retreatants simultaneously, but in any case he guides each retreatant as though he alone were on retreat. Of course, there may be some interplay between retreatants. They may cele-brate Mass together. They may do shared prayer. Smallest Possible Community The directed retreat is a concerted effort to seek God in the smallest possible community. In a directed retreat, everything is set up and directed to help the retreatant find God. All irrelevant and distracting persons and entities are withdrawn. That leaves us with the smallest possible community, a community of three, in the likeness of the Trinity. The community of three which results can be described in various ways. It can be seen as composed of the retreatant, God, and His Spirit; God is the goal, and the Holy Spirit is the agent. He guides the retreatant to God, and He is the Love between the retreatant and God. There is, from another viewpoint, the triad of the retreatant, the director, and the Holy Spirit. The retreatant and the director work out the retreat in concert, and the Holy Spirit is the one Guide of both. From a still more comprehensive viewpoint, the tripartite community is made up of the retreatant, God, and the Church (whom the director em-bodies and represents). The reason for setting up this smallest possible community is to promote the total personalization of the /etreat. All transactions are aimed directly at the one retreatant and his unique personal needs here and now. While it is true that God always can and does work as personally with an individual in a group as with an individual off by himself, the retreat director cannot. And conversely, the retreatant cannot. The fact that God can is the saving grace Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 197~//.~ of group retreats. The fact that retreatant and d~tector cannot is the reason there is at times no substitute for a directed retreai; The tiny directed retreat community favors ~nt,~ate contact that helps the retreatant to come to know his God, himself, and .his Church in an intimate new way. By intimacy I mean an attentive, h~!thy, open, and receptive relationship with another that is productive of a ifilJ~aal identification in joys and sorrows. Directed to Spiritual Exercising The directed retreat is the engaging in sptr~tua.l exercises under the daily guidance oJ a di'rect6r who h'as the twoJold rDi~ ol retreat director and spiritual direc'tor. The function of the retreatant ~ ~o do spiritual exercises. The function of the director is to guide and mo,ri~tor the exercises. In the directed retreat, there is emphasis on ttlE aiztivity of the retreatant. We have all seen the retreat master of the prea@fid retreat deliver his four and five talks a day, hear confessions, hold interviews, and stagger out of the house exhausted six days later. The directed r~ii:Eat, bn the contrary, de-mands much more of the retreatant and focuseg bn what the retreatant is doing more than on what the director is saying. !f tti( rctreatant's activity still involves a great deal of active listening, it i~ ndt a human being he spends a lot of time listening to, it is God. St. Ignatius himself stresses the activity of th~ i'etr~atant, whom he calls the exercitant. He introduces his little book for r~ii'eat Jig "spiritual exercises Which have as their purpose the conquest of self iind t~ie regulation of one's life in such a way that no decision is made under: th~ influence of any in-ordinate attachment" (#21 ). The director gives the retreatant daily guidani~i~. Generally, the two meet once a day. The director provides spoken or writieh ~5oints for meditation, and they are generally given very briefly. If the iziirEctdr has more than one retreatant, he may give points in common to savd time, where this is not to the disadvantage of the retreatants. The retreatant gives the director a faithful afifi~Sufi~ of the inner experi-ences and responses which take place in the coti~se 6i' his meditations. He tells of joy or sadness, peace or unrest, hope 0i: [6ai'; and so on. This ac-count of one's personal experiences is always gi~,(h ili a private interview. This account is at the heart of the directed retiE~ii, as is the response the director makes to it. The practice of making ttiis reiSort develops the re-treatant's ability to discern the movements of ~.Sbd ~ind evil that play in man's mind, heart, and feelings. The guidance dt~ [he ~tirector helps the re-treatant learn how to distinguish between the godi:l ~iri~i evil influences more successfully. Most important, it helps him distili~iiist] the divine call from every other influence on him. This knowledge frdE~ iaiih from old slavery to whims and emotions and nagging feelings of guilt: ii h61ps him to put on the mind of Christ. Directed Retreat / 493 Functions of the Director From what has just been said, it becomes manifest that the director of the directed retreat has two clearly distinct functions. First, like the director of a preached retreat, he provides the retreatant with input for the meditations. Let it be added that, both in the brief way he provides this material and in the selection of the material he provides, he himself is guided in a general way by his source material, The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius. The director feeds in this input in harmony with the retreatant's actual accomplishments, thus moderating the advance and flow of the retreat in a fully personalized way. The director is fully aware that the graces sought in each meditation are necessary graces which have to be built up in their proper order like the parts of a building: sorrow for sin is the excavation, forgiveness the founda-tion, and so forth. This careful control of the process of the retreat is cer-tainly one of the great advantages of a directed retreat. Second, the retreat director is the retreatant's spiritual director. The great religions of the world, even in their most mystical traditions, all teach the need of a guide, be he a guru, a starets, a roshi, a spiritual director. Without a director, there can be no making of the Spiritual Exercises, as a reading of the introductory observations will establish. Without a director there has not been set up the necessary mini-community described in the second definition. The Discerning Process The director helps the retreatant to discern the mysteries of the interior life in a practical way that is meant to lead to practical decisions and practi-cal service of Christ. The retreatant himself is always the primary discerner, and the director the auxiliary discerner. Only the retreatant is present to his own inner experiences. Unless he gives a good and faithful report, the aux-iliary discerner cannot give the help he is meant to give. The retreatant, then, is the subjective discerner. The director is the objec-tive discerner. As objective discerner, he interprets the experiences of the retreatant in accord with the Biblical and doctrinal expressions of revelation as it is guarded and developed and handed on by the whole Church. If the retreatant too is learned in theology, and sometimes even if he is not, he may be able to interpret his experiences quite authentically himself. But in accord with the wisdom of the Church and of revelation, the People of God do not rely on themselves individually, but depend on one another in the effort to understand the meaning of God's communications, even the individual and personal ones. If the retreatant is guided by the Holy Spirit to come to a cer-tain decision, the director can hope to be guided by Him to confirm the decision. The Priest-confessor and the Retreat Director The role of the director as auxiliary discerner is made even clearer if we consider the distinction between the role of the priest-conJessor and the role 494 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/3 of the retreat spiritual director. The confessor in the sacrament of penance is concerned primarily with the moral order, with the person's conscious, sin-ful rebellions against God's will. The retreat spiritual director is concerned with the retreatant's inner experiences, his moods, attractions, and repulsions, even before he has made any deliberate free responses to them. The con-fessor wants to know what a man has done of good and evil. The director wants to know to what seeming good and what seeming evil the retreatant is being drawn through his inner experiences in prayer and meditation. St. Ignatius himself makes this distinction, and even makes it clear that the retreatant' should feel free to go to a confessor other than the director: While the one who is giving the Exercises should not seek to investigate and know the private thoughts and sins of the exercitant, nevertheless, it will be helpful if he is kept faithfully informed about the various disturbances and thot~ghts caused by the action of different spirits. This will enable him to propose some spiritual exercises in accordance with the degree of progress made and suited and adapted to the needs of a soul disturbed in this way (#17). It might be pointed out here that the director need not be a priest. He or she need only be a spiritually gifted person experienced in living the spiritual life, possessing the developed capacity to guide others, having a good knowl-edge of the faith, and knowing the Spiritual Exercises through exercise in them. This is a fact,to be underscored, since if the one-to-one retreat is to proliferate, many directors will have to be drawn from religious men and women and other members of the laity. Sisters and laymen are in fact al-ready active in directing retreats. The retreatant needs openness and courage to give his director the neces-sary account. Still he does not need to steel himself to bare his whole soul, as he sometimes finds it necessary to do with his regular spiritual director, and certainly finds it necessary to do with his confessor. Direct Communication with God .4 directed retreat is a retreat in which one is guided by a director to do spiritual exercises which will purge him, illumine him, and dispose him Jor direct communication and communion with God, direct guidance Jrom Him, and the readiness to do His will. This final definition gives a comprehensive idea of the directed retreat. The Ignatian directed retreat is divided into four parts or weeks. It was Ignatius' hope that the retreatant would really spend a whole month, apart from all other business, in making his retreat. Thirty-day retreats are being conducted today. More often, however, the retreat is condensed and made in a period of eight days. The first week provides spiritual exercises of purgation. The second week provides spiritual exercises of illumination which call the retreatant to a more wholehearted commit-ment to Jesus. The third and fourth weeks invite one to share Jesus' ex-perience of passion and resurrection as a preview of one's own future in His Directed Retreat / 495 service and life. In everything, Christ is the retreatant's life, his light, his salvation, his motivation. The directed retreat is a search for direct communication and communi-cation with God. To miss this would be to miss the meaning of the directed retreat. The preacher of the preached retreat is not really replaced by the director. He is replaced by God who Himself gives His message to the re-treatant here and now. The retreatant hears God, not by words in his ears, but by the various movements in his inner life which have been described in this article as the experiences which call for discernment. To come into a retreat with this expectation calls for deep faith in both the director and the retreatant. No doubt this faith frequently falters in both, perhaps most when they are least aware of the fact. Some directors may not even have the conviction that this direct communication and communion with God should take place, but then they are betraying their trust, for it is inescapably clear that this is the expectation and absolute conviction of the author of the Exercises. He writes: The director of the Exercises ought not to urge the exercitant more to poverty or any promise than to the contrary, nor to one state of life or way of living more than another. Outside the Exercises, it is true, we may lawfully and meritoriously urge all who probably have the required fitness to choose continence, virginity, the religious life, and every form of religious perfection. But while one is engaged in the Spiritual Exercises, it is more suitable and much better that the Creator and Lord in person communicate Himself to the devout soul in quest of the divine will, that He inflame it with His love and praise, and dispose it for the way in which it could better serve God in the future (# 15). What Ignatius expects is that the retreatant will, by making the Exercises, repeat some of his own experiences of God guiding him. Those experiences were so vivid that Ignatius called God his "Schoolmaster." Let me point out here by way of example that we customarily describe the attraction to the priesthood as a "vocation," a "call" from God. St. Ignatius is simply broadening the base of that belief by affirming that God calls us directly to many things, to little things, every day, if we can hear His voice and if we will respond to it. God's call is experienced through the inner movements of love, joy, peace, attraction to a better way, and so forth. According to Karl Rahner, S.J., this is a case of grace breaking into consciousness. In essence, therefore, the directed retreat is meant to be a mystical retreat. It is a series of spiritual exercises and prayers and contem-plations in search of the experience of God and the reading out of His will. It is a transcendental relationsh!p breaking into consciousness. Directed versus Preached Retreat It should be of help to add a brief comparison of the directed and the preached retreat. The directed ~'etreat is the authentic presentation of the 496 / Review [or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/3 Spiritual Exercises. This is a fact of history, but it also stands from an ex-amination of the introductory observations in the Spiritual Exercises. Still, that does not mean that the directed retreat is always best for everyone, in every set of circumstances. St. Ignatius makes it clear in the Exercises them-selves that not everyone is suited for them or ready for them. Nor are they necessarily better for anyone, year after year. They have a certain inherent advantage in that they guide the retreatant to listen directly to God Himself. On the other hand, there are times when God Himself sends us to men, as He did Paul after his conversion experience. Many factors must be weighed in determining which type of retreat will be best: the level of human ma-turity; the level of religious maturity; the personal needs at the moment, such " as the need of making a decision concerning a state of life; the level of gen-erosity, of restfulness, of vitality. The preached retreat remains of immense value when it is well con-ducted. I support this simply by appeal to the years of experience which most of us have had in making such retreats and which some of us have had in con-ducting them. Furthermore, preached retreats are excellent opportunities for hearing the word of God, and men always remain bearers of that word. There is no substitute for the preached word of God, iust as there is no sub-stitute for the inner experience of God. Then, too, the preached retreat is an opportunity to share the personal faith vision and synthesis of the retreat master who can often communicate his experience with the help of some specialized theological, sociological, or psychological competence. What it comes to is that the preached and the directed retreat are two species of retreat. Each has its own unique value, and each addresses itself to unique needs. 3-he directed retreat is of unsurpassed value for times when serious decisions have to be made. It is also of unsurpassed value in provid-ing a guided and formative experience in living the interior life. It has great value in helping a person find direct communication with God and in coming to other primary religious experiences. The preached retreat is especially valuable for broadening .and articu-lating our knowledge and vision of the faith. This helps us overcome our per-sonal limitations and biases, so that we can formulate a more comprehensive response to God. It helps us supply for our personal lack of initiative in over-coming our deficiencies. It can stir new faith in us, for belief is communi-cated by believers; and it can stir new love of God in us, for love is com-municated by lovers. In brief; the preached retreat is especially valuable in those times when for one reason or another, we need the word of God preached to us through the agency of men. Editor's Note: For other treatments of the directed retreat and of the Spiritual Exer-cises of St. Ignatius Loyola, see Sister Margaret Baker, H.V.M., "My Experience of a Directed Retreat," Review Jot Religious, July 1972, pp. 573-7: William A. Barry, SJ., Directed Retreat / 497 If this information and these norms do not yet make it clear which retreat you should prefer, I would offer one piece of advice. Experiment. Try th~ one you haven't experienced. For St. Ignatius, the need for experimentation was one of the fundamental principles of the spiritual life. "The Experience of the First and Second Weeks of the Spiritual Exercises," Review ]or Religious, January 1973, pp. 102-9; William Connolly, S.J., "Story of the Pilgrim King and the Dynamics of Prayer," Review ]or Religious, March 1973, pp. 268-72; and William A. Barry, S.J., "Silence and the Directed Retreat," Review ]or Religious, March 1973, pp. 347-51. Father Smith's present article, "The Nature and Value of a Directed Retreat," is available (at 20 cents per copy plus postage) from Review for Religious; 612 Hum-boldt Building: St. Louis. Missouri 63103; a previous article by the same author, Method for Eliminating Method in Prayer," is also available from the same address at 25 cents a copy plus postage. The Healing of Memories Francis Martin Father Francis Martin, a member of Madonna House; Combermere, Ontario KOJ 1LO; Canada, is presently completing his doctorate in Scripture in Rome. Our memory is a mysterious thing. St. Augustine, in his Confessions (Bk 10) spoke of "the fields and vast palaces of memory," and "the huge court of my memory." In his Treatise on the Trinity, Augustine saw man as an image of the Trinity because in his one interior being there were the three realities of memory, understanding, and will. Memory is compared to God the Father because it is an image of eternity, because it is the point out of which spring understanding and love, and in relation to these it has no be-ginning. Growth in Spirituality and Growth in Memory The vast universe of inner being has its spiritual origin in what we call today "awareness" or "consciousness." It is this that St. Augustine called "memoria." In some ways his term is better than ours since it points to the mysterious fact that memory is the principle of continuity. In my awareness of myself, I know myself to be the same man who yesterday lived through a certain series of experiences--I answer to the same name; and the reason for this is memory. Thus, awareness of ourselves always involves knowing "where we come from" not only in the sense of our past, but also in the sense of our Source, our Creator. We come from our past since we are at any moment of our lives the person who has lived through and been affected by a whole concatenation of experiences which we recall only imperfectly. We come from God since He has made us and at this moment is present to us, holding us in existence, though we are most often unaware of this. There is a way, then, in which it is true to say that growth in spirituality is growth in memory: it is an increasing awareness of where we come from. 498 The Healing o] Memories / 499 A deep awareness of God present to us, creating, saving, and sanctifying us, is an intimate and essential dimension of self-awareness, just as, on the other hand, our memory of the experiences which have made us who we are is a necessary part of our total awareness of who we are in God. Since this is so, there come moments in our lives when those experiences which have hurt us and twisted us somewhat must be brought to awareness and healed so that our life of prayer may deepen and our presence to God be-come more conscious. This process is called the healing of our memories or the healing of our inner being. Memory as the Sacrament of God's Presence It is not that memory only serves to retain those wounds of the past that are imperfectly healed. Our memory also carries deep within it those effects of God's action in our lives, those moments that in a special way make up our own salvation history. In allowing ourselves to enter once again into those recesses of our being where the awareness of God's action is still a living thing, we put our present experience into perspective. Deeper than this, through this memory, this action of God still living in us as a sacrament of His presence, we enter into a knowledge of where we come from: our past itself becomes the chalice containing our awareness of God. The Psalmist sings: "God, you are my God; 1 long for you, my soul thirsts for you . Upon my bed 1 remember you, in the watches of the night I dwell on you. Yes, you are my Help; in the shadow of your wings I sing for joy. My soul clings to you, your right hand holds me" (Ps 63: 1, 7-9). The remembering of God brings us to songs of joy as we find ourselves protected by the vast expanse of His overshadowing wings. In this sense our memory is our access to awareness of the presence of God: He who has made us and saved us, for whom there is no time, and who is at this moment holding us in existence and giving us His life, is He who "is and was and is to come" (Rev 1:4). Our memory of what God has done brings us to the awareness that the effects of His saving acts exist in us by the mystery of His presence. Thus, though we name God by what He has done, we are speaking to Him who is present, and we know that when we shall see Him as He is, we will recognize Him as He who has always' been with us. The command of Jesus in connection with the Eucharist applies to all prayer both in com-mon and in the secret of our own heart: "Do this in memory of me." Obstacles to Living Memory But what are the obstacles to this living memory of the past upon which faith is founded, and this living memory of the future which is the inner face of hope? The greatest obstacle is our inability to "remember" because our memory is protecting itself from the wounds it carries within it. The wounds inflicted by others and the effects of our own sins still lie hidden in our inner being. These wounds are like so many "black and blue marks" on 500 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/3 our psyche: they are areas too sensitive to touch and yet they impede our movement. Our Lord wants to heal those wounds, either by taking them completely away or by taking away our fear of them enabling us to live in simple acceptance of our weakness and limitation. No matter what the source of these wounds, they can be the means of our union with Jesus whose wounds still shine gloriously in heaven. Even now our weakness makes the glory of God all the more manifest: "About this thing, I have pleaded with the Lord three times for it to leave me, but he has said, 'My grace is enough for you: my power is at its best in weakness.' So I shall be very happy to make my weaknesses my special boast so that the power of Christ may stay over me. " (2 Cor 12:8-10). Consciousness and Forgiveness This healing from inner wounds and from the fear of them, this healing of our memories, takes place most often through a process of consciousness and forgiveness: consciousness removes the protective but smothering layers of forgetfulness and opens that area of our being to the light and air of God, and forgiveness is a healing balm that eases pain and fosters restoration. We should speak about this process for a minute. We are aware, sometimes more forcefully than others, that there are ob-stacles that prevent us from being at ease with the Lord. We attribute this uneasiness to our sinfulness, especially to those sins and infidelities of which we are conscious. We know, really, that having sinned is no obstacle to find-ing joy in the Lord's presence: we often quote to others and to ourselves those incidents in the Gospels where Jesus goes out of His way to "welcome sinners and eat with them" (Lk 15:2). We have the constant testimony of the lives and words of the saints, and we see many people around us who bear this same witness. Still, when we are alone with the Lord, we are un-easy. Sometimes, even in deep prayer when we are aware of our Lord draw-ing close to us, we can find our minds starting to wander, almost trying to create distractions because of a fear of His presence. There can be many reasons for this, but basically we instinctively know, as we do in any love relationship, that unconditional love once accepted from the beloved obliges us to the same commitment, and we are afraid. We fear for ourselves in a commitment that takes from us the control over our own lives and future: when once we admit that we are so loved, we are no longer "free." One of the fears occasioned by charismatic manifestations of our Lord's presence is precisely this: that the Lord, through these signs of His nearness and His love, becomes too real and too obviously committed to us to be kept at a distance by our careful rationalizations and our well-apportioned times for prayer. Such initiative on the Lord's part demands conversion from us. We are called to receive the kingdom of God like a littlc child (see Mk 10: 15), but we prefer that illusion of autonomy we have so carefully created for ourselves. The Healing o] Memories / 501 However, for most of us, our Lord exercises too great an attraction to be put completely behind the bars of our self-centered caution. As we become more familiar with His presence and a little more faithful to His Spirit in us, we are less uneasy. But we must go further. Very soon in a serious life of faith we must renounce our bondage to darkness, we must be freed from our attachment to those things that hold us back from a pure surrender to the action of God in us. We must live out totally those renunciations we made at our baptism and which we ratify at every Easter Vigil. And it is here we find great difficulty and meet with the obstacles of selfishness, sensuality, ambi-tion, resentment, pride, fear, and so forth. Healing Our Memories Now the source of some of these blocks that we notice in ourselves, some of that fear of God and shame before others, as well as our attempts to com-pensate for these feelings, can be traced, as has been said, to unhealed wounds left in our inner being by incidents of our past. Of some of these we are conscious, of some but half-conscious, and of others we may be no longer conscious at all. How does one proceed in allowing our Lord to heal these memories? There are three things to be done: inner prayer; a sharing, in some degree at least, with another; and faith contact with the Body of Christ. In other terms we could describe these three this way: we enter into the sanctuary of our inner being and allow our wounds to become conscious; we pray with another who, as bearing within himself the mystery of Christ and His healing power, can be an instrument of peace; and we open ourselves, through forgiveness of others and the discipline of authentic personal re-lationships within the sacramentalized context of a truly human community, to the truth that sets us free. The first step is individual prayer; the second is confession which achieves a particular power if it is sacramental; and the third is community whose deepest source and most powerful presence is the Eucharist. Renouncing Our Resentments Let us begin with inner prayer. When we are alone at prayer, we should quite simply and directly ask our Lord to heal our memories. This may be a very general prayer at first, and may remain so for many days as we re-peat this request in our prayer. Our prayer may go something like this: "Lord Jesus, may You be praised for the love and mercy You have shown me all my life; I praise You and I thank You for that love with which You died for us and with which You share the radiance of Your risen life. Lord, You see into the depths of my soul; You know that I am wounded. The reality of evil has touched me in my own sin and in the sins and imperfec-tions of others. Lord, heal me of these wounds, let the power and beauty of Your life shine in me. I renoun(e attachment to my resentments, I forgive anyone who has ever hurt me, and I pray for them. Jesus, I join myself to 502 / Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/3 that act of forgiveness in which You died, and I love all those people who have entered my life; I embrace them with the same love and tenderness You have for them. I hold them up before Your face, O Lord, that You may bless them and be kind to them." It may happen during this prayer that certain people or incidents arise in our memory, and we re-experlence all the hurt and anger we first knew when the event occurred. It may be our parents or some other adults during our younger years: teachers, priests, some authority figure. It may be someone in our mature years: friend, husband, wife, employer, .superior, someone who betrayed us. Or it may be something quite abstract: "the system," the Church, my education, society, though these latter abstractions are usually evasive symbols covering a person we do not wish to think about. In any case, when someone particular comes to mind, we should stop our prayer and gently, without forcing ourselves, take this person into our heart. Do not be surprised at the degree of repugnance such an interior gesture meets with. Go gently, but firmly. Resolve very quietly that you will to be de-tached from this resentment. It is better to go gently over a period of a few days with a clear awareness of the issue and a determination to share Jesus' love for this person, than to make a violent, emotional "act of the will" that only harms your own heart and is but counterfeit love for the other. When this person is in your heart, then look at Jesus and say in the name of both of you who have now become one in love, "Lord have mercy." In such a gesture, we admit our need for mercy and pray for the other person with the same desire for their well being as we have for our own. The Lord always hears this prayer. Offering the Fullness of Forgiveness It is very important in this prayer that we do not waste our time in some sort' of amateur self psychoanalysis. We are praying for our own healing with the faith-knowledge that we can never be healed without the healing of our relationships and this includes, of course, desiring that others be healed. A large part of our own personality is made up of our relations to others. We are truly and maturely persons when both the individual and the social dimensions of our being are in contact and harmony with Jesus Christ. It was this realization that led Origen to posit among the seven ways that sins are remitted, "that we forgive our brothers their sins." For, as this great teacher goes on to say: "Our Lord and Savior himself told us this when he said, 'If you forgive others their offences, your heavenly Father will forgive you, but if you do not forgive others then neither will your Father forgive you your offences.' Then too, the Lord taught us to say in prayer, 'Forgive us our debts as we have forgiven those who are in debt to us' " (Homily 2 on Leviticus). There are many emotional blocks to the fullness of the forgiveness we offer to others as they dwell in our hearts, but with prayer, honesty, and The Healing o] Memories / 503 gentleness with ourselves our Lord can heal these. This sanctification of our emotional relationships is an aspect of the way the Body of Christ "builds itself up in love" (Eph 4: 16). Since this healing pertains to the mystery of the Church in its reality as a divinization of that complex web of relation-ships by which all men are, in some deep way, linked to one another, it often happens that our Lord's action within us as we pray alone leads us to see that for deeper healing we should go and pray with another. In and through this other human being, we contact Christ, and thus also every other person in this world. We should go to someone in whom we have confidence and share with that person our burden to the degree of explicitness that the Lord leads to, as both of us pray. This is one way that we carry out that injunc-tion of St. Paul to "serve one another in love," and is a practical realization of that mutual care for one another that he describes as "carrying one anothers' burdens" (see Gal 5: 13, 6:2). Sharing Our Wounds with Others Early Christians often went to the holy men to share with them the wounds of their soul and to receive their blessing and their prayers for heal-ing. In ancient monastic life thig "manifestation of thoughts" (both good and bad) to one's spiritual father was a daily practice. Other Christians went to these men of th.e Spirit for a confession of healing whenever they felt the need. Often, but not necessarily, these spiritual fathers were priests. For, be-sides those upon whom the Church has conferred in a special and explicit way the power given her by the Lord for inner healing, there are many other people who receive this gift from the Lord by another kind of action of the Holy Spirit: "There are different ministries but the same Lord" (1 Cor 12:4). While it is always possible to share our burden with friends and pray with them for healing and have them lay hands on us, there are times when we should go to someone whom the Lord seems to have endowed in a particular way with gifts of discernment and healing. Such people, accord-ing to the unanimous witness of tradition, are recognizable by their humility, their gentleness and patience with others, and their chaste, other-centered love. In the early Church we find them described as "someone who encour-ages the brethren" or again, "a pool where the liv.ing waters ofGod's love for man are gathered." In their hearts, the love of Christ has worked a puri-fication which has brought the gift of understanding hearts and of healing them to a certain stability and power. Other Facets of the Obstacles in Our Souls As someone with whom we have shared our burden begins to pray with us, we may become aware of many other facets of the obstacles in our soul, blocking us from true freedom with the Lord. We should quietly renounce attachment to these obstacles; this is especially importantin the areas of sen-sual pleasure, anger, and resentment. Again, let the truth be strong and 504 / Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/3 undiluted in our soul, but let the truth come from theLord and not from our self-hate, fear, or shame. Perhaps our Lord will enlighten us by giving words of prophecy to the person or persons praying over us. Most often these words have an intensely personal content for us, unsuspected by the other: his message shows us our attachment to sin or calms and heals our fear. In either case, when it is the Lord who is acting, we experience the liberation and strengthening of hearing "the truth in love." Though most of the time the healing takes place through a certain remembering of past incidents that have wounded us and a consequent conferring and receiving of forgiveness, this is not always the case either in private prayer or in prayer with others. Sometimes the Lord heals us without bringing the wound to consciousness at that moment, or at all. This is why it is so important we do not attempt to force things from our memory, but simply be willing to see and acknowl-edge anything, no matter how painful or embarrassing, that occurs to us as we pray in this way. Mark the Hermit, in one of his maxims, reminds us that unhealthy concentration on our past sins "brings sadness and banishes hope." This is true of undue preoccupation with our weaknesses and inner wounds: that ceaseless "search and destroy" drive we find in ourselves does not come from the Lord. As a matter of fact, to spend time in anxious worry and endless self-investigation is to act as though our Lord did not really appreciate how weak we are and could not help our compromised honesty to a greater degree of simplicity and truth. When we ask the Lord for healing, we are asking the Lord to heal us. He will usually do this by working in us a greater con-sciousness of our wounds and deeper capacity to trust Him and love and forgive others: our role is to agree to the action of God in us as He answers our prayer. His healing will be an inner touch and sometimes also an exterior word of discernment, encouragement, or revelation of what lies in our heart. Forgiving Sins by Healing Them The ancient Church in Syria reminded a bishop on the day of his ordina-tion that because he had been given the Holy Spirit for the forgiveness of sins, he had been constituted a "healer of the Church of God." In the Byzan-tine rite of today there is mention of healing in the prayer for the ordination of both bishop and priest. This is but another reflection of the deep connec-tion the Eastern Church has always seen between ordination and the min-istry of healing. Origen advises his listeners to think carefully about "the doctor to whom you should make known the cause of your illness." He should be someone who "knows how to be sick with someone sick, to weep with one who weeps; who knows the discipline of grieving and suffering with another," and who can decide wisely whether or not "your illness should be brought out and healed in a meeting of the whole Church, so that others can be built up and you canbe healed the more easily" (Homily 2 on Psalm 37). The Healing o] Memories / 505 Healing and the Sacrament of Penance The above passage has its difficulties, but given the whole context of the accent on healing in connection with the forgiveness of sins in the Eastern Church, and other statements of Origen's elsewhere, we can see that the priest was looked upon as being able to forgive sins by healing them in their source and prescribing the proper remedy. This same thinking is reflected in many early commentaries on our Lord's words as reported in John 20:22-3: "He breathed on them and said, 'Receive the Holy Spirit. For those whose sins you forgive, they are forgiven; for those whose sins you retain, they are retained.' " The link between the Holy Spirit and the for-giveness of sins was found in the active presence of love, and this in turn was manifested in the wisdom shown in healing the wounds of God's people. Healing is an act of the Spirit who is described in the Roman rite, in one of the Masses during the former octave of Pentecost, as being "Himself the forgiveness of sins." Thus, "therapeutic confession" and the presentation of one's sins before the bishop or his appointed representative in order to be re-integrated into the community by public penance, were not considered as completely dis-tinct. These two roles tended to blend, especially in the Western Church as the centuries progressed and, unfortunately, the legal preoccupation domi-nated. However, in the intuition of the faithful, it was most probably the desire for an inner healing that inspired people to practice regular confes-sion. This desire was only dimly realized and poorly expressed, but it was there. Today, a deeper understanding, on the part of both priest and peni-tent, of the healing power of penance could mean a greater presence within the Church of a ministry of inner healing. Father Michael Scanlon in his recent booklet, The Power in Penance (Ave Maria Press) has performed a great service in suggesting practical ways to exercise this ministry. Priests must pray deeply for a revitalizing of the healing power conferred on them at ordination. They must strive in their own lives to be mature men, those "seniores" described by the Rule of St. Benedict as men who "know how to cure their own and others' wounds without disclosing them in public" (Ch. 46). The Eucharist and Inner Healing Now that we have touched upon the sacramental dimensions of inner healing, it would be worthwhile to meditate, just briefly, on the role of the Eucharist in inner healing. The celebration of the Eucharist is the "source and summit of the whole work of preaching the gospel" according to Vatican 1I (On Priests, par. 5). It is in this reality that the Church expresses her own inner nature and realizes it ever more perfectly. If the community is truly gathered in love, then the mystery of the Church is vitally present: there is a sacred and living space of divine love, another pool where healing waters are gathered for all to drink. The authenticity of our mutual love and desire 506 / Review Jot Religious, Volume 32, 1973/3 for reconciliation with God and with all men, and our praise of God and our prayer for ourselves and others, must be given a real and human expression. God expressed His love for us in a human way, and he does not expect us to be more "spiritual" or "interior" than He is. The deepest reason why the liturgy remains dead and unable to make present the mystery of Church is not so much a lack of faith, though this is an operative factor, as the fact that our human expressions of what the Spirit is working in and through us remain superficial, stilted, and dominated by human respect. Not only the sacraments, but the whole sacramental dimension of the Church exercises a causality by signifying something. When there is no sign at all, there is no sacrament--no bread, no Eucharist--and when the sign is not assimilated in faith but is merely something performed by rote, then the signifying power of the sacramental dimension is reduced to such a point that for most people nothing transpires at the conscious level of their being. On the other hand, when there is a living and beautiful human expression of what the Church as the primary sacrament really is, then the power of this mystery radiates to all, touching and transforming them. Christian Affection and Reconciliation In such a context, the dynamics already well perceived by psychology as necessary for human growth are caught up in a healing action of the Spirit. Love, thoughtfulness, acceptance, forgiveness, song, joy, friendship--all these become the mud and spittle rubbed on our eyes, so that when we wash, we see. The intimate union between body and soul has been so consecrated by the Incarnation that Tertullian could call the flesh "the hinge of salva-tion." For just as the water touching our body awakens our whole being and opens it to receive the action of the Spirit, so the psychological and physical reality of a true Christian community is an instrument of healing. To ignore the depth and power of true and chaste Christian affection and yet to expect the community gathered for worship to possess and confer an authentic reconciliation is like trying to baptize without water. In this atmosphere of love, we confess our sins, we praise God and pray for all men, and we hear in an intimately personal way those prophetic words that are contained in the Scriptures for all the Ch. urch for all time. The .words of the Scriptures enlighten, point out sin, encourage, and heal when they are heard with a heart that has already learned to set aside its fear and believe in the love of the Lord as He is expressing it through people gathered together. Memory and the Reception of Christ's Body And then we receive the Body of Christ. This is not only a touch with that flesh of Christ that healed so many, even,before the Resurrection and is now transformed by the fire of the Spirit; it is also an intimate, a mystical, union with all those who make up the Body of Christ. When our hearts are The Healing o[ Memories / 507 open, we receive and are reconciled in Christ to everyone in this world. Men may pray over us for the coming of the Spirit; Jesus enters into our body, and He is the source of the Spirit. This is the moment when our memories of the past blend with the passion of Jesus, and we forgive as He does; and we live, as He does, a life that is "unto God." Then memory becomes experi-ence of a healed past and a transformed future, somehow already present. Our inner being begins to know already the power of the Resurrection; the knowledge of where we come from, both as past and as God, becomes fused in a present awareness of Christ living in me. My memory becomes a living image of eternity where the name of God is uttered in awe and praise and the great deeds of God are proclaimed in the assembly of the faithful: "Yahweh, your name is forever; Yahweh, the memory of you is from gen-eration to generation!" (Ps 135: 13). A Community for Today and Tomorrow M. Basil Pennington, O.C.S.O. M. Basil Pennington is a Cistercian monk of St. Joseph's Abbey in Spencer, Massachu-setts 01562. His most recent previous article in Review ]or Religious was "Christian Zen Retreat" in the September 1972 issue, pages 710-3. On my way to the annual Cistercian Studies Conference at Kalamazoo last May, I took the opportunity to visit the True House Covenanted Com-munity at Notre Dame. It was a very wonderful and gracefilled experience and I would like to try to share a bit of it with you. What I found and experienced at True House was quite different from what 1 expected. The press, Kevin Ranaghan's book, the annual conferences create a certain image, a good image, of Notre Dame, but something quite different from what one finds when he has the privilege of stepping into the True House Community. The popular image, at least as it strikes some of us back here in the East, leads one to expect a rather large movement, one made up mostly of students, a rather enthusiastic but changing scene. I was therefore surprised to find that the True House Community is a rather small group, including many non-students, quite structured and stabilized, and, apart from the annual conference which takes over the Notre Dame Campus when the students are not there, having relatively little apparent impact on campus. But what I "found, I must say, deeply impressed me. Quality of Life First of all and most fundamentally what impresses one is the quality of life. Here are men and women of different ages and backgrounds, truly committed in a very stable way to living as full Christians. Prayer is very much in the fabric of their lives. The Lord Jesus truly lives in them, in 508 A Community for Today and Tomorrow / 509 their hearts, in their households. Their day begins with prayer together. Or even before that, it begins with a personal get-together with the Lord as they slip, one by one, into the chapel to spend a few moments or an hour or two there before the household morning Office. Grace before and after meals is not a perfunctory duty fulfilled but a time--and time is really given to it--to praise the Giver of all good things. And in this community all strive to gather in the early evening to celebrate together a daily Eucha-rist. For one who comes from a scene where he hears mostly of people try-ing to break away from structures and tradition, it is a surprise to discover this charismatic community firmly holding on to the traditions of the Church universal. Apart from the beautiful outpouring of praise, thanksgiving, and petition at certain moments, a Catholic traditionalist would be delightfully at home with the morning prayer and evening Mass offered in the com-munity. Perhaps it is because of the immense freedom they have in the Spirit (which frees them from the need to react against structures to ex-perience freedom) and the satisfactory outlets which are wisely and with good order provided within the liturgy and at the prayer meetings, that the community feels no need to throw over the established structures. But I sensed something more positive present among them. There is alive in the community a wonderful sense of belonging to th~ Church. And, I be-lieve, they have a real need and desire to experience themselves as praying with the Church, spread across the world and through the centuries. Praise the Lord! This quality of life was not only present in their prayer and worship, it was evident in their whole way of life. "See how these Christians love one another"--and the stranger, or rather fellow Christian, who suddenly appears in their midst, like myself-~was a thought that constantly echoed in me during my visit with them, as it would again later when I was priv-ileged to spend a couple of days with the saints at Ann Arbor. As one moved about on the campus there was always a special quality presevt when one encountered and greeted another from the community. Sitting around the supper table, playing volley ball, or having a sandwich together at noon, there was present in the fabric of the very ordinary human give and take a weave of genuine love and reverence for a fellow Christian. Christ was always present. Praise Him! Structures I was perhaps most surprised to see how quickly and to what extent the charismatic community had been structured. But this is a very realistic thing. Men need structures to live together in justice and love. I only hope this and all charismatic communities, as they do realistically structure them-selves, learn at least one lesson from the traditional religious communities and never allow their structures to solidify and, instead of serving life, begin to dominate it. We must ever retain, even in our needed structures, the 510 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/3 freedom of the sons and daughters of God. This is a quality that is. visibly present in the True House Community. The community is divided into households. When ! was there there was the single men's household,, the single women's, the sisters, one married household, and a few on campus. New households, married and single and for guests, were in the planning. Each household off campus lived in an ordinary house, shared meals and chores, had a common exchequer, prayed together at different times during the day, and had its doors wide open to all the other members of the community and the community's guests. To their special contentment at least one of the households had the privilege of hav-ing their Lord live in their midst in His Eucharistic presence. The households on campus consisted of perhaps four, five, or six men living in the same dorm, who gathered daily for prayer and meals. As I have already men-tioned, the whole community gathers each evening for the Eucharist. Loving Concern The members of each household realize a special responsibility toward each other, one of very special loving concern. When the household is large, as the single men's household of ten, this breaks down into sub-groups, the three or four who share the same room. Herein it seems to me the True House ~ommunity is finding one of its special apostolates, or missions in the Church, one very much needed today. A vast number of our young people today have been hurt, damaged by the home they come from, with i~s lack of self-giving love and security. There needs to be healing before these young men and women can become fully mature and free Christians. And this healing can be brought about only by love. Within the context of a true Christian community this self-giving love can be administered. To effect this healing the love has to be very personal, direct, constant, and even in some real sense intimate. This the households and their sub-groups can make possible. In such a climate of concerned love, wounds are healed, a fully free Christian emerges. Then he or she can maturely and freely choose to follow the Lord and His way in marriage or in singleness for the Lord, in the community or elsewhere within the family of the People of God. Often today when a young man or woman graduates from college he or she is not yet ready for life decisions, and yet social pressures tend to demand them of them. The community provides a context where one, free from such pressures, can continue to grow as a free person in the Lord, until he is truly ready for such a decision. I think True House in its mission of healing through love and providing a context for Christian maturation is fulfilling and exemplifying an apostolate that is desperately needed in the Church today. The Sisters in the Community True House is singularly blessed in its leadership. In Jim Byrne it has a A Community [or Today and Tomorrow / 511 truly charismatic leader, one who inspires, in a very humble and Christlike way, real confidence and loyalty. I was privileged to spend a good bit of time with him and they were gracefilled hours. He is supported by real collaborators, men and women who are really with him. The community is especially blessed with the two sisters who form one of the households. I think, perhaps without their realizing it, they have something important to say to many religious today. One thing I would note in passing. The sisters are perhaps a full generation older then most of the community (Sor-ry to mention that, Sisters!), yet there is no trace of the well-known genera-tion gap. More important the sisters are playing a very important role in the heart of the community. I do not know if I can really express it accurately, and I probably will not express it the way they would; but as one looking from the outside in and seeing the whole, I might see it better than they. I think because they do stand as members of the community who do have a special consecration to the Lord, and in their particular household in some special way live this, without in any way withdrawing from full membership and participation in the life of the community, they say some-thing, minister something, more by life than by words, to the rest of the community. And I ask myself if they are not pointing toward the way in which in the future religious, other than those called by the Lord to go apart to seek his Face in monastic solitude, will find their place and fulfill their role in the Church by becoming fully integrated, yet specially conse-crated members of local Christian communities. The sisters have struggled to find how practically and meaningfully to live their commitment to two communities, the local community of True House, and their religious com-munity- and they seem to be succeeding well. The Priest and This Type of Community No word on True House Community would be complete if it did not speak of a man who is not officially a member of the Covenanted Com-munity yet is very much a part of it. I am sure that under God the quality of life at True Housc is due in great measure to the effective presence in their midst of a truly holy priest, Father Ed O'Conner. His ministry to the community at the daily Liturgy and through the many regular hours of personal spiritual direction is made powerful by the inspiring example of what he is and by his complete openness to

Issue 23.3 of the Review for Religious, 1964. ; PAHL VI On Seminaries APOSTOLIC .EPISTLE To THE PATRIARCHS, PRIMATES, ARCHBISHOPS, AND BISHOPS OF THE CATHOLIC WORLD ON THE FOUR HUNDREDTH ANNIVERS~,RY OF THE ESTABLISHMENT OF SEMINARIES BY THE ECUMENICAL COUNCIL OF TRENT. Venerable brothers, greetings and Our apostolic blessing. The Word of the sovereign God,* who is "the true light that enlightens every man coming into this world,".1 decided to put on human nature for the sake of our eternal salvation and to spend a lifetime among us to show us "the kind of glory that belongs to the only begotten Son Of the Father, full of grace and truth.''~ In the same way He did not con-sider it unimportant to remain hidden for almost thirty years in a simple little dwelling of Nazareth in order that by His prayers to God and by His labor He might fittingly prepare for His apostolic work and give an example of all the virtues. Under 'the loving gaze of Joseph, His putative father, and that of His holy Mother Mary, the boy Jesus "grew in wisdom and age and grace before God and man.''8 Now if all the followers of Christ are obliged to imitate the Word become man, then surely a greater obligation to do so rests on those who someday will. "represent to men the person of Christ Himself both through their manifest per-sonal holiness and through their preaching of the law of the Gospel and their dispensation of the sacraments. The Church is aware that it is the duty of the ministers of Christ Jesus to show themselves as teachers of virtue first of all by their own public example and then by their spoken word; it is in this way that they truly become the salt of the earth and the light of the world.4 Accordingly, from the earliest centuries of her existence, she has taken special pain.s * The official Latin text, entitled Surami Dei V~rburn, is to be found in Acta Apostolirae Sedis, v. 55 (1963), pp. 979-95. IJn 1:9. ~ Ibid., 1:14. ~ Lk 3:52. 4 Mt 5:13-4. VOLUME 23, 1964 257 ÷ ÷ ÷ Paul VI REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 258 to see that the young men preparing for the priesthood should be well trained and educated. An important witness to this fact is to be found in the person Of St. Leo the Great, among whose writings is found the following remark: "When the directives of the blessed fathers treated of the choice of priests, they rightly asserted that only those were fit for the sacred ministry who over a long period of time had advanced through each grade of [sacred] duties and who had thereby proved themselves in an acceptable manner; in this way each man's conduct was a testimonial to his life.''~ Afterwards both ecumenical and regional councils gave a certain stability to the ancient customs in the matter; gradually they passed laws and established practices which afterwards the entire Church acknowledged as sacred pre-scriptions. In this connection it is sufficient to recall the sharply delineated decrees of the Third and the Fourth Lateran Councils.6 Unfortunately, however, the evil of worldliness made a continual and deep penetration even into ecclesiastical circles; and the spirit of paganism seemed to revive to a cer-tain extent in the academic world in which the young were educated. For these reasons, the norms previously.laid down by the Church for the training of candidates for the priest-hood were thought to be no longer adequate for the situa-tion. Accordingly, in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries many thought it absolutely necessary that there should be a reform of morals in the entire Church of Christ and that at one and the same time the candidates for orders should be protected from the dangers threatening them. and that their personalities should be correctly shaped by the efforts of judicious educators and teachers in places adapted to this purpose. At Kome in the fifteenth century Cardinals Domenico Capranica and Stefano Nardini made wholehearted efforts to meet this urgent and pressing need by founding the colleges named after them. In the. sixteenth century St. Ignatius Loyola established in Rome the Roman and Ger-man Colleges, the former for the training of teachers, the other for that of students for the priesthood. At the same time Cardinai Reginald Pole, archbishop of Canterbury, urged the bishops of Cambrai and Tournai to follow the example of ,St. Ignatius; and he himself prepared for Eng-land a decree on seminaries which was confirmed in 1556 by the synod of London and which was published on February 10 of the same year. A few years later, a law composed on the model of this decree was enacted for the whole Church by the Council of Trent. This law was contained in Chapter 18 of the reform decree approved on July 15, 1563.7 ~ Epistola 12, Patrologia latina, v. 54, col. 650-1. ~ Mansi, Amplissima Conciliorum collectio, v. 22, pp. 227, 999, 1013. ~ See G. Rocaberti, Bibliotheca maxima pontificia, v. 18, p. 362; and L. yon Pastor, Storia dei Papi (Rome: 1944), v. 6, p. 569; v. 7, p. 329. Since this year is the four hundredth anniversary of that important decree, the memoryof the event should be all the more carefully brought to mind given ~he fact that the an-niversary year coincides with the holding of Vatican COuncil II. For by convening t~he Council, the Church is primarily concerned with"b~tte~ihg the live~ 0f-the Christian faithful by the enactment of suitable directives; accordingly she will. not neglect to give special attention to that area which is of the greatest importance in the life of the entire Mystical Body" of Christ--the area concerned with the for-mation of those who are preparing themselves for the priest-hood in seminaries. We do not intend to describe here.the procegdings that took place before the confirmation of the decree on the establishment of seminaries, nor do We intend to delay on a Consideration of the. individual prescriptions of the decree. Rather, We are of the opinion that the commemoration of the decree will produce greater good if We emphasize the benefits" that have accrued from it for the Catholic Church and for human society and if We briefly recall to memory some of the principal points which concern the spiritual, intellectual, and apostolic formation of candidates for the priesthood and which, today as never before, require a diligent consideration. That seminaries would be of the greatest benefit to the individual dioceses of the Church was clearly foreseen by the members of the Council of Trent since in their thirteenth session they gave a unanimous vote to the document dealing with them. On this matter Cardinal Sforza Pallavicino wrote the following: "The chief matter approved was the establishment of seminaries. Many did not hesitate to assert that even if no other benefit resulted from the Council this alone would adequately repay all their painstaking labor. For this was considered the most effective means available for restoring lost discipline since it is a rule that the members of any society will bethe type they are brought up to be." 8 The extent of the confidence Which the leaders of the Church had in seminaries as a means to prepare for the renewal of the Church and for the increased holiness of priests can be seen from the fact that soon after the.Council strenuous efforts were made to carry out the prescriptions of the decree in spite of difficulties of every kind. Our prede-cessor of happy memory, Plus IV, gave a foremost example of this when on February 1, 1665, he established a seminary for his diocese of Rome; and in this he had been preceded by St. Charles Borromeo who established a seminary in Milan in the year 1664 and, on a more modest scale, by the bishops ofRieti, Larino, Camerino, and Montepulciano. Afterwards, other bishops, zealous for the renewal of their dioceses See P. Sforza Pallavicino, lstoria del Con~ilio di Trento, A. M. Zaecaria, ed. (Rome: 1833), v. 4, p. 344. + + + Seminaries VOLUME 23, 1964 259 ÷ ÷ ÷ Paul VI REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 260 established seminaries, being aided in this by many out-standing persons who were deeply concerned for the welfare of the Church. Among these were to be found in France Cardinal Pierre de B~rulle, Adrien Bourdoise, St. Vincent de Paul with the priests of his Congregation of the Missions, St. John Eudes, and Jean-Jacques Olier with his Society of Priestsof St. Sulpice. In Italy particular praise must be given to St. Gregory Barbarigo who worked untiringly and cease-lessly at the end of the seventeenth century to reorganize the seminaries of Bergamo and Padua; in doing this, he not only took into account the norms laid down by the Council of Trent as well as the example of St. Charles Borromeo, but he also took into consideration the pastoral and cultural needs of the time. The example given by this tireless pastor. to the other bishops of Italy is still vibrantly alive even in our own day, forhe had the ability to combine fidelity to tradi-tional norms with the introduction of innovations. An example of this was his insistence on the study of Eastern languages, since he felt that this contributed greatly to the better knowledge of the Eastern fathers and ecclesiastical writers and thereby to the eventual reconciliation with the Catholic Church of the separated Eastern communities. It was such achievements of the great bishop of Padua that John XXIII, Our predecessor of happy memory, recalled in his homily given on the day Gregory Barbarigo was sol-emnly inscribed in the lists ot the saints. 9 A person has every right to think that from the seed sown in the fertile field of the Church by the decree of the Council of Trent there also flowered forth those seminaries and colleges that exist for special purposes. Such are the College of Propaganda Fide in Rome and the Seminary for Foreign Missions at Paris; such also are ~he various national colleges in Rome, Spain, and Belgium. Accordingly, all the places which, like so many cenacles, exist today in the entire Church for the formation of candidates for the priesthood can be compared with the tree in the Gospel parable which, though originating from a tiny seed, nevertheless grew and increased in size. to such an extent that it could give shelter in its branches to innumerable birds of the air.x° Unceasing thanks, therefore, should be given to God that the following centuries, during which in many countries there were ideologies and practices opposed to the doctrine and to the ~aving ministry of the Church, did not see a cessa-tion in the establishment of seminaries but rather a wider and a larger growth of them. This was true not .only in Europe but also in both the Americas; it was also true in mission countries still to be enlightened by the light of the Gospel: as soon as the Catholic faith struck root~ seminaries were likewise founded. Moreover, the Apostolic See has See Acta Apostolica¢ Sedis, v. 52 (1960), pp. 458-9. x°See Mt 13:31-2. always multiplied its efforts to give to seminaries directives needed to fit in with the pastoral and cultural requirements of different times and places. This area, .which requires great discretion, is onewhich the Holy Spirit, the heavenly source of all the beneficial decrees of the councils, has especially entrusted to th~ suCre/he pastor 6f ~the ;Church.n Hence, while we are treating of this matter, We cannot forget to praise the distinguished work done by Our prede-cessors; among whom the following are pre-eminent: Gregory XIII, Sixtus V,. Clement VIII, Urban VIII, ¯ Innocent XI, Innocent XIII, Benedict XIII, Benedict XIV, Clement XIII, Plus VI, Gregory XV!, Plus IX, Leo XIII, St. Plus X, Benedict XV, pius XI, Pius XII, and John XXIII. Since seminaries have been the object of such great con-cern on the part of the Apostolic See and of zealous bishops throughout the world, it is not surprising that they have greatl~ prospefed, ~hereby effecting the greatest benefits for the Church and for the civil community. It was this matter of the great and outstanding advantages produced by seminaries in the course of time that Our predecessor of happy memory, Plus IX, wished to recall on June 28, 1853, in his apostolic letter Cura Romani Pontifices by which he established the Pio Seminary. In this letter he pointed out to rulers of states as well as to everyone inte(ested in the public welfare that "the correct and careful training of the clergy is greatly conduc!ve to the preservation and pros-perity of religion and of human society and to the defense of truly sound doctrine.''12 This same dose and beneficial link between the religious, moral, and cultural progress of peoples and the existence of a sufficient number of sacred ministers conspicuous for holiness. and learning was reiterated by Pius XI in this important statement: "The matter is the kind of thing that is closely connected with the Church's dignity and effectiveness and even with her very life. It is a matter of the greatest impor-tance for the salvation of the human race since the immense benefits which have been won by Christ our Redeemer are not communicated to men except by the ministers of Christ and the dispensers of the mysteries of God.''~3 Hence We gladly follow the example 0f Our predecessor Pius XII in making use of the apt remark uttered by Leo XIII of im-mortal memory on the subject of seminaries: "The welfare of the Church is intimately linked with their condition.''14 Hence it is that We ask all Our venerable brothers in the u See Acts 15:28. ~ See Pii IX Pontifids Maximi acta, v. 1 (1846-1854), p. 473. ~a The apostolic epistle Off~iorum omnium, Acta Apostolica¢ &dis, v. 14 (1922), p. 4-49. t~The epistle Paternae providaeque, Acta Leonis XIII, 1899, p. 194; and see Plus XII's Per hos postremos annos, an epistle to the bishops of Poland, Acta Apostolicat Sedis, v. 37 (1945), p. 207. Seminaries VOLUME 23, 1964 261 Paul REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 262 episcopate, all priests, and all the faithful to express their gratitude to almighty God, the giver of all good things, for the great benefits which have come to the Church from the providential establishment of seminaries. At the same time, We gladly take the occasion of this anniversary to give to all a fatherly exhortation. We wish to remind all the members of. the Catholic Church to be aware of the common obliga-tion they have tobe zealous in giving to seminaries whatever assistance is needed by them. Undoubtedly, the bishops of dioceses, the rectors and spiritual directors of seminaries, and the teachers of the various subjects have the greatest obligation to be concerned for the Complex work of support-ing, forming, protecting, and educating candidates for the priesthood. Nevertheless, their work would be nullified or at least would be mo~e difficult and less effective if it were notpreceded and accompanied by a ready and continual cooperation on the part of pastors and their assistants, of religious and lay persons charged with the education of the young, and especially of Christian parents. In all seriousness, how is it possible to observe the priestly vocation from its first beginnings to its full maturity and not see that, although it is principally a gift of God, it still re-quires the generous cooperation of many persons, clerical and lay alike? Since today's civilization has greatly increased among Christians the esteem and desire for the good things of this world, there has arisen in the hearts of many a less-ened esteem for the things which will not perish and which pertain to the realm of the supernatural. Since this is the case, how will it ever happen that many young men will make a rightly motivated decision for the priesthood if in the homes and the schools where they. grow up they hear the praises only of the greatness and the achievements of worldly pursuits? Few, unfortunately, are the Christians who reflect earnestly on the warning of our Savior: "What profit does a man make if he gains the entire world while losing his soul?''1~ In the midst of the delights and the attractions of this world, it is undoubtedly difficult to apply to one's own way of living the words otthe Apostle: "We do not fix our gaze on the things that are seen but on those which are not seen; for the things that are seen last but for a time while those which are not seen are eternal,''16 Moreover, when the Lord Christ summoned His poor fishermen of Galilee, did He not raise their minds to the contemplation and desire of heavenly rewards? When He saw the two brothers Simon and Andrew busy at their fishing, he said to them: "Come after me and I shall make you fishers .of men.''~v Furthermore, when Peter, acting in the name of the rest of the apostles, asked Him what reward Mk 8:36. See 2 Cor 4:18. xTSee Mt 4:19. they would receive for having left all things for His sake, Christ gave them a definite promise: "I assure you that in the new generation when the Son of Man sits on the throne of his majesty you who have followed me will also sit on twelve thrones to judge the t~4elve ti-ibes of Israel.''~s Accordingly, if boys.and youfig men are to gain and keep an adequate esteem of the priestly life and if their hearts are to have an ardent desire to follow that way of life, it is necessary that an atmosphere conducive to this be created both in the home and in the school. Although only a few of the faithful are called by God to the priesthood ~r to reli-gious life, still all are bound to a life of convinced commit-ment that closely corr.esporids to the norms of supernatural faith,x9 They must, therefore, show the greatest honor and respect for .those who devote their entire lives to their own~ sanctification, the spiritual good of the human race, and the increase of God's glory. It is only m th~s way that the mind of Christ2° will eventually come to permeate the! Christian people and that the number of candidates for the priesthood will have a favorable growth. It is true that the first duty of the faithful withI regard to the increase of the number of priests is prayer to G~d accord-mg to the command of Christ: ~ The harvest xs plentiful, but the workers are few; pray, therefore, to the Lo.rd of the harvest that he send workers into his harvest.''2x F~rom these Words of our divine Redeemer, it is clearly to be Seen that the merciful and sovereignly free will of God is ~o be con-sidered as the primary source from which flows t~e inclina-tion of soul to undertake the sacred ministries. ,It was for this reason that Christ gave the following warn!ng to His apostles: "You have not chosen me but I have chosen you and have appointed yqu to go out and bring f~rth much fruit, and your fruit will endure.''~2 So also St. Piaul, while insisting that the priesthood of Jesus Christ was [greater in dignity than the priesthood of the Old Testament, never-theless taught that every genuine priest depends principally on the divine will, since a priest is constituted by[his nature mediator between God and men: "Every hig~ priest is chosen from among men and represents men in the things which pertain to God . No one takes this honor on him-self but only the one who hke Aaron ~s called ~y lGOd. Much more excellent and much more freely best.owed must we consider the divine vocation to share in the priesthood of Christ, for the same Apostle says: "So also Christ did not raise himself to the dignity of the priesthood., having x8 Mt 19:28. a9 See Heb 10:38. 80 See 1 Cor 2:16. 2x Mt 9:37-8. ~Jn 15:16. 29 Heb 5:1-4. + ÷ + VOLUME 23, 1964 ' Paul REVIEW' FOR RELIGIOUS been perfected, he became the cause of eternal salvation for all those who obey him, having been called by God to be a high priest acco(ding to the order of Melchizedek.''~4 It is with good reason, then, that St. John Chrysostom, when writing of the priesthood, says: "The priesthood is exercised on earth but it rightly belongs to the realm Of heavenly things. For this office was created neither by man nor by angel nor by archangel nor by any created power, but by the Paraclete Himself. He it also is who is the cause why those who are still in the flesh aspire to the ministry of angels."~ It is important, however, to observe that the divine voca-tion to undertake the work of a priest is concerned not only with the candidates' spiritual faculties of intellect and will but also with their sense faculties and with their bodies. This is so in order that the entire person should be fitted for the unde.rtaking of the arduous duties of the sacred ministry. These duties are often joined to hardship; and at times, after the example of Christ the Good Shepherd, they require the laying down of one's life. Boys and youths, therefore, are never to be considered as called by God to the priesthood if, because of insufficient gifts of mind and will or because of innate psychological weakness or bodily defect, they are judged not to be fitted to 9arry out worthily the many duties of that function and to bear up under the burdens of ecclesiastical life. On the contrary, there is a consoling doc-trine in the Angelic Doctor who maintains that what the Apostle said of the first preachers of the Gospel is applicable to every priest. The words of St. Thomas are: "When God chooses persons for some task, He prepares and disposes them in such a way that they are found fitted for that which they are called to do; this is in accord with the statement of 2 Corinthians 3:6: 'He .made us fit ministers of the New Testament.' It is for this reason that parents~ pastors, and all those in-volved in the duty of educating boys and youths must not only create conditions favorable to those who are called to the priesthood and beseech God for the heavenly graces that will increase the number of such; they must also earnestly do what they can to see to it that youths enter a seminary or a religious institute as soon as they clearly manifest and show their real desire to be a priest and their capability for it. Only when this happens will the youths be preserved more securely from worldly attractions and be able to cultivate the seed of their divine vocation in a suitable surrounding. It is then that superiors, spiritual fathers, and teachers--each in his Own way--will begin their work. First of all, they will make a more careful exami- Ibid., 5:5-9. On the Priesthood, bk. 3, n. 4, Patrologiagraeca, v. 48, col. 642. Summa theologiae, 3, q.27, a.4, c. nation of the signs by which it is made apparent that Christ has really chosen these youths as His ministers; secondly, they will help the candidates to the priesthood to make themselves worthy of their lofty task. The educational task to be done in the seminary, directed as it is to the bodily, spiritual, moral, and intellectua~ training of tl~ ~ndidates, is a lofty and a difficult one which is splendidly expressed by the decree of the Council of Trent in these word~: "Nurture them, educate them religiously, and instruct them in ecclesiastical studies.''27 But here there arises a matter of the greatest importance: By what special and indispensable sign is a divine vocation to be recognized? What sign is the principal criterion to be followed in the seminary by those, especially the spiritual director, in charge of educating and training the candidates? Without a doubt this sign is to be found in the candidates' right intention; that is, in the manifest and firm decision by which one earnestly desires to give himself entirely to the divine service. This sign is derived from the prescription of the Council of Trent which decrees that only those youths should be received into a seminary "whose character and will power give hope that they will always be devoted to ecclesiastical service."2s It was for this reason that Our predecessor of happy memory, Pius XI, when he treated of the matter of this right intention in his encyclical Ad catholici sacerdotii, did not hesitate to state: "One who strives for the sacred priesthood for the one noble reason of devoting himself to the divine service and to the salvation of souls and who at the same time has achieved or is in process of achieving a solid spirituality, a tested chastity, and sufficient knowledge---such a one, as is clear, is truly called by God to the priestly ministry.''29 For receiving youths into the seminary, it is sufficient that they show at least the first beginnings of a right intention and of the character required for the priestly role and its duties. But in order that seminarians be rightly promoted to sacred orders and especially to the priesthood, they must give evidence to the bishop or to the religious superior of such maturity in their holy purposes that the latter can come to a certain judgment that before them are persons whom God has chosen.3° From this it follows that an awesome and serious responsi-bility and decision rests on ordinaries since it is their duty to make the final judgment on the indications of divine choice IT Mansi, Amplissiraa Conciliorum collectio, v. 23, p. 147. ~s Conciliorum oecumeni~orum decreta, issued by the Centro di Docu-mentazione, Istituto per le Scienze Religiose (Rome: Herder, 1962), p. 726, 11. 38-9. ~ The encyclical Ad catholici sacerdotii, Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 28 (1936), p. 40. 8o See I Sam 16:6. ÷ Semirmries ~OLUME 23, 1964 + ÷ ÷ Paul Vl .REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 266 in the candidates for holy orders and since it is their right to call them to the priesthood and thereby ratify before the Church and bring to an effective termination the divine vocation to the priesthood which had gradually come to full growth in the youthful candidates. This power is indi-cated by the following words of the Catechism of the Council of Trent: "Those are said to be called by God who are called by the legitimate ministers of the Church.''31 In our own time it has been a cause of sorrow to Us that some ministers of the Church have defected from their state; this is a calamity that a stricter carefulness in choosing and training candidates for the priesthood might perhaps have avoided. Hence it is that bishops of dioceses should take this oppor-tunity to weigh in their minds the words of warning directed by St. Paul to Timothy: "Do not hastily impose your hands on anyone and do not be a partner in the sins of others.''32 In the preceding we have briefly recalled what is required in those who are called by divine impulse to the priesthood. This is a clear, ready, and stable decision to take up the sacred ministry based especially on the desire to increase the glory of God and to seek the salvation of one's self, of one's brethren, and of all who have been redeemed by the pre-cious Blood of our Savior. It will not be out of place if We now briefly treat of the things which are useful for a perfect and complete training of candidates for the priesthood. Since these matters are of the utmost importance in the life of the Church, they have been frequently considered by Our predecessors. Itwill be worthwhile here to list their more recent writings even though they are known to all: Plus XI's encyclical Ad catholid sacerdotii;83 Plus XII's apostolic exhor-tation' Menti Nostrae;~4 and John XXIII's encyclical Sacer-dotii Nostrl primordia.~ Moreover, there has been submitted to the Second Vatican Council a constitution entitled The Formation of Seminarians. When this is approved, it will com-plete the berieficial decrees of the Council of Trent and the later prescriptions of the Apostolic See. Beyond any doubt it will give a notable impetus to the work of recruiting candi-dates for the priesthood; but more importantly it will con-tribute to the formation of those candidates by the love and exercise of priestly virtue, by the study of the sacred cere-monies, by intellectual development, and by pastoral train-ing. While the norms on seminaries to be issued by the Council are awaited, We think it a duty of Our supreme office to exhort all those engaged in the training of seminar-ians to give keen consideration to the dangers which can Catechism of the Council o.[ Trent, pt. 3, De Ordine, 3. 1 Tim 5:22. Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 28 (1936), pp. 5-53. Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 42 (1950), pp. 657-702. Acta A#ostolicae Sedito v. 51 (1959), pp. 545-79. diminish the efficacy of the system of training now used in seminaries; they should likewise consider what matters in the training of seminarians should be given greater care. Just as weeds creep into a field that is exposed to every kind of seed, sb there is a danger which seems to threaten the minds of youth more than formerly; this danger is the desire to censure everyone and to criticize everything. What is even more deplorable is the fact that even the youngest are unwilling to bear any restraint whether from natural law or from civil and ecclesiastical authorities; they accordingly strive for unlimited freedom of action. It is not suprising, then, that since the forces of their character are weakened and their aspirations for the true and the g~od are stifled, their sense faculties, both external and internal, reject the needed control of right reason and good will; for they have cut themselves off from the constant and efficacious power of grace and supernatural virtue. From this it naturally follows that young people frequently permit themselves a way of talking.and acting which is inconsistent With those norms of humility, obedience, modesty, and chastity which befit the dignity of a reasonable creature and aboqe all of a Christian person whose very body has become b~ the aid of heavenly grace a member of Christ and a temple of the Holy Spirit. From these indications of youthful superficiality and lack of self-control, who is not able to foresee that in the future these same young people will demand many rights but accept few obligations? Who does not fear that because of these reasons there will be a decrease in the number.of young men who .knowingly and generously desire the priest-hood? Consequently, everything must be combated which is in opposition to a healthy education of youth especially of those who are called by Christ to continue His work of redemption. But what are the means of achieving this? The principal one is that parents and teachers must strive that their sons and pupils, especially those of the more docile and generous nature that is fitted for the priesthood, should be imbued with humility, obedience, and the desire for prayer and sacrifice. Moreover, it is the duty of seminary superiors and teachers not only to protect and increase in their youthful subjects the virtues that have just been mentioned; they must also take care that as the seminarians progress in age there should appear the other qualities of character that are absolutely necessary for a solid and complete moral forma-tion. Among these qualities the principal ones are the inclina-tion to reflection, right motivation in action, the power to make a free and personal choice of the good and even o.f the better, and personal control of one's will and one's body. This serf-control will enable a person to conquer the ira-÷ ÷ ÷ Seminaries VOLUME 23, 1964 267 ÷ ÷ ÷ Paul VI REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS moderation of self-love, to resist the evil example of others, ~nd to win out over the inclination to evil which arises from human nature with its heritage of original sin or from con-tact with evil human beings or from that malicious and lost spirit who in our times seems to be increasing the fury of his attacks to conquer, if possible, those whom God loves in a special way. With regard to their dealings with their fellow man, those who--with Christ and for Christ--desire to be witnesses before men of the truth of the Gospel which sets men free and saves them,86 should be trained to the desire for truth in word and action; hence they must be trained to the sincerity, honesty, constancy, and loyalty to which St. Paul exhorted his beloved Timothy: "Do not engage in wordy arguments; they achieve nothing except to upset those who are listening. Let your first care be to make yourself acceptable to God as a laborer not ashamed of his work but rightly handling the word of truth.''a~ In order that the personalities of the young be effectively (grrected, that the evil seed of faults and vices be kept out of ~hem, and that the good seed sown in them may grow into health3/trees, it is necessary that due attention be given to. the good qualities which are found in the nature of man so that the work of priestly perfection may rest on the foun-dation of natural virtue. In this donnection the wise words of the Angelic Doctor seem to be especially appropriate: "Since grace does not destroy nature but perfects it, it is necessary that the natural inclination of the intellect should be subject to faith just as the natural inclination of the will is guided by charity.''~8 Still, the good qualities and natural virtues of man are not to be extolled beyond measure as though the true and lasting fruits of apostolic generosity are to be chiefly attrib-uted to human effort. It is also necessary to note that if use is made only of the principles of right reason and of the norms of human knowledge such as those of experimental psy-chology and educational theory, then it will be impossible to educate and form the personalities of youth to the natural virtues of prudence, justice, courage, temperance, modesty, meekness, and the other related virtues. For we are taught by Catholic doctrine that without the healing grace of our Savior no one can keep all the precepts of the natural law and hence cannot attain the possession of perfect and solid virtues.39 From this undeniable principle it follows that in the con-duct of ecclesiastical life it is highly important that human education progress step by step with the education which ~6Jn 18:37; 8132. 2 Tim 2:14-5. Summa theologiae, 1, q. I, a.8, c. s~Summa theologiae, 1-2, q.109, a.4, c. befits the Christian man and the priest in order that the powers of human nature may be enhanced and strengthened by prayer, by the supernatural grace given in the sacraments of penance and of the Eucharist, and by the influence of the supernatural virtues for the.exercise of which the natural virtues serve as a protection and a help. But even this is not enough. As the Apostle warns us, it is also necessary that man's power of intellect and will be subject to the norms of faith and the impulse of charity so that our actions, being performed out of love for our Lord Jesus Christ, may deserve to merit an everlasting reward.4° It is clear that what We have said must be carefully con-sidered by those who are called to be victims of love and obedience with our divine Redeemer for the salvation of mankind and to lead a life of virginal chastity and of external and internal detachment from the passing good~ of this world.In this way their sacred ministry will gain in worth and will become more fruitful. For this reason it will some-day be demanded of them not only to place all their best abilities at the service of their sacred ministry but also to forego even legitimate needs of nature and to endure hard-ship and persecution in order to be faithful and generous in carrying out their share in the role of the Good Shepherd. For it is only right that what St. Paul said of himself should also be said of every faithful minister of Christ: "'To the weak I became weak in order to win the weak; I have be-come ev.erything in turn to men of every kind so that I might save them all. All of this I do for the sake of the gospel that I might bear my share in proclaiming it."4~ This was the way of acting which was observed by the many bishops and priests whom the Church by her canoni-zation of them proposes as examples to all clerics. These, then, are the chief and principal points of training and of ~he spiritual life which outline the important educa-tional work which is entrusted to the superior and the spiritual director of seminaries under the ultimate guidance of the bishop. But added to this must be the conscientious cooperation of the teachers of the various courses who should seek the full development and perfecting of the intellectual powers of the seminarians. From such a cooperative and harmonious endeavor intel-ligently carried out by the superiors and the teachers of a seminary, there will follow the great benefit of a complete education for the seminarians. In this way seminarians will achieve a level of attainment that will not only develop them as human beings and as Christians but specifically as priests who must be completely imbued with the light of revelation, 40See Col 3:17; 1 Cor 13:1-3. 41 1 Cor 9:22-3. ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 23, 1964 ,?.69 Paul VI REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the special work of which is to see to it that the priest "is a perfect, man of God ready for every good work.''e It is good here to recall the statement of St. John Ghrysostom: "It is necessary that the character of a priest be like the light that brightens the entire world.''~8 With regard to the intellectual attainments of the clergy, there must be had a competent knowledge of languages, especially of Latin particularly in the case of those who be-long to the Latin rite. History, the physical sciences, mathe-matics, gedgraphy, and the arts should be known by clerics to the same extent as they are known by educated persons of the nation in which they live. But the greatest intellectual riches of the priest are to be found in the human and Christian wisdom that results from a solid and clear training in philosophy and theology according to the spirit, doctrine, and principles of St. Thomas and in a careful and complete. accord with divinely revealed truth and the directives of the Church's teaching. Such a training is given or comple-mented by the following subjects: scriptural exegesis accord-ing to the methods and norms of Catholic interpretation, the sacred liturgy, sacred music, canon law, Church history, archaeology, patrology, the history of dogma, ascetical and mystical theology, hagiography, sacred eloquence, the fine arts, and so forth. As the seminarian comes closer to major orders and in the first years after his ordination to the priesthood, emphasis should be placed on that part of theology which is called pastoral. Every care should be taken that he have an ever more active part in the life of his diocese including divine worship, catechetical teaching, and the stimulation and con-tinuance of apostolic work. In this way the future pastor of souls will gradually come to an early knowledge of his role and duties and will be able to equip himself for it in an adequate and fitting way. And in this matter it will be a great advantage to him to. have a knowledge and training in Gregoiian chant and in sacred polyphony. Then he will be able to give all his studies a single purpose and to direct. all his activity to the salvation of souls in the conviction that all his effort Should aim at .the coming of the kingdom of Christ and of God according to the advice of St. Paul: "All things are yours, you are Christ's, and Christ is God's.''~4 The more that the men of today seem to forget that all things belong to God, so much the more must the priest shine forth in the world as "another Christ"and as "a man of God.''~5 Holiness, then, and knowledge must be the marks of the one who is called by God to be the preacher and the minister of the Word of God, the Redeemer of all men. This holiness, Tim 3:17. On the Priesthood, bk. 6, n. 4, Patrologia graeca, v. 48, col. 681. Cot 3:22-3. Tim 6:11. We insist, must be outstanding, excelling that of the laity and of non-clerical religious; for the Angelic Doctor tells us: "If a religious is without orders," then it is clear that the pre-eminence of orders excels, in point of digni~y, because by holy orders a person is deputed for th~ highest service in which Christ Himself is served in the sacrament of the altar.''46 Accordingly, the life of a seminarian must be distinguished by a fervent devotion to the Holy Eucharist since he hopes one day to be the consecrator and the dis-penser of this sacrament. To this devotion to the Body and Blood of Christ it is proper to add the other forms of devo-tion that are especially consonant with it; namely, devotion to the Holy Name of Christ and to His Sacred Heart. As We come to the end of Our exhortation, We wish in a spirit of fatherly charity to extend Our congratulations to all of both clergies whowork zealously and generously for the recruitment and training of candidates for the priesthood. Our special praise goes out to those who perform these duties in regions where there is a serious lack of priests and where those who prepare candidates for the priesthood must undergo great difficulties and frequently expose themselves to danger. We also wish to congratulate those who, following the exhortations and directives of the Sacred Congregation of Seminaries, strive through writing and through meetings to bring the training of seminarians into closer accord with the needs of various times and places and with the progress that has been made in the field of education, while always respecting the purpose and nature of the sacred priesthood. This way of acting is a significant contribution to the welfare and honor of the Church. At last, beloved sons, We come to you who are living in seminaries under the motherly eyes of the Queen of the Apostles as the Apostles themselves once were in the Cenacle. You are diligently preparing yourselves for the reception of a power that exceeds all human measure~the power to consecrate the Body and Blood of Christ and the power to forgive sins. You are likewise preparing yourselves for the Holy Spirit's abundant outpouring of grace which will make you more ready for a worthy performance of "the ministry of reconciliation.''47 To you We repeat the words of the Apostle: "Let each one persevere in the vocation to which he has been called.''4s Those who wish to work for the salvation of men. in closest union with Christ and who wish to win for themselves a shining crown of eternal glory must respond to the divine call with the fullest docility and the most constant Obedience. Have a heartfelt esteem for the marvelous gift of God to 46 Summa theologiae,'2-2, q.184, a.8, c. 472 Cor. 5:18. ~8 1 Cor 7:20. ÷ ÷ ÷ Seminaries VOLUME 23, 1964 you, and from the days of your youth "serve in joy and exultation.''49 Finally, venerable brethren, We exhort you and express to you Our earnest wish that the suggestions We have set down here out of love of the Church be carried out as far as possible by you in your dioceses, in the flocks entrusted to you, and especially among your seminarians. The witness to Our wish will be Our apostolic blessing which We give in a fatherly spirit to each one of you. Given at Rome at St. Peter's on the feast of St. Charles Borromeo, November 4, 1963, the first year of Our pontifi-cate. PAUL VI See Ps 99 "~. ÷ ÷ ÷ Paul Vl REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS V. WALGRAVE, O.P. The Contemplative Vocation of Active Monastic Orders Introduction The* following considerations had their origin not only in a personal facing of the problem but also in numerous conversations with members of other orders. The author has had the opportunity to ascertain that the problem of the so-called "mixed life" is being raised everywhere and in almost identical terms,r Religious everywhere are looking for * This is a translation of a revision of the article, "L'avenir des ordres actifs A base monastique par rapport A leur vocation contempla-tive," which appeared in Supplement de la vie spirituelle, n. 65, May, 1963, pp. 206-33. It" is translated by Cronan Regan, C.P., lector of dogmatic theology, Saint Ann's Monastery; 1239 Saint Ann Street; Scranton, Pennsylvania 18504. 1Throughout this article the reader will meet the expression, "mixed life," in a sense that is not quite universally accepted. Among orders of the modern type, by the term "mixed life" is meant the state of all those who lead an intense life of prayer and meditation which overflows into an apostolic life strictly ~.o-called (that is, the ministry of the word, administration of the sacraments, and so forth), with no concern for the kind of means used to preserve or express the life of prayer. By this notion they intend to align them-selves with St. Thomas. However, the latter does not use the term "mixed life." He even refuses (and in this he differs from the more recent conception) to consider as a third kind of "life" the combination of the contemplative life and the active life. Among the apostolic orders which have a monastic foundation, almost all born during the Middle Ages, the use of the term, which they actually borrow from the school of Suarez, is ordinarily limited to the kind of life proper to them: an apostolic life emanating from a contemplative life which is organized after the fashion of strictly contemplative orders. And, ordinarily, they do not speak of a third life but only of a combination of two lives, contemplative and active, the former being the foundation and principle of the whole. In practice, the expression "mixed life" has fallen into disuse. If we now avail ourselves of this situation to use the term in our own way, and especially in its second meaning, it is only because ofa terminologi- Father V, Wal-grave, O.P., is prior of the Dominican Community at Ter-urenlaan 221; Brus-sels 15, Belgium. VOLUME 23, 1964 273 a clarification of the principles and a sharper understanding of the specific difficulties caused by the changes which the sudden evolution of our divilization has brought about. We should not be surprised that the crisis of growth presently running through the life of the Church is also affecting the old religious orders. In these orders too we witness a groping like that of an army which has' lost its way, which gradually finds itself placed in an entirely strange climate, having to live on a newnourishment, forced to face practical problems heretofore unknown. Thus, the religious orders, and in particular those whose religious life is con-ceived as basically monastic, feel that they are coming to grips with a mentality which, at first sight, appears in-compatible with their way of life. They have experienced the infiltration of ideas conceived in a perspective which is foreign to their traditional thought. They find themselves confronting problems which were undreamed of in their founders' day. History shows us that, in its first phase, the spontaneous reaction to such a sudden transition always has a somewhat incoherent character. Very quickly, under the pressure of the general unrest which flows from it, there comes to the fore a liberty of thought and expression which is often disconcerting but which nevertheless seems indispensable in order to clarify the situation and find once again unity of direction. These few pages claim to be no more than a modest contribution to the common effort of seeking light. Certainly the theme is a delicate one, and normally we would hesitate to treat it in public. But this problem is like many others that concern the intimate life of the Church : in the atmosphere of the Council it has been carried to the forum of the Christian conscience, becoming the object of public debate. At this moment in history, we can no longer permit ourselves the luxury of a discreet treatment of long duration. We have to face it in all liberty and frankness. And our conviction that the orders in question, have an irreplaceable role in the life of the Church compels us to meet this challenge squarely. L We Must Choose ÷ ÷ V. Walgrave, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 274 It is undeniable that in spite of the strong tradition which has always animated them, most of the old orders practicing the life which we call mixed at present lack confidence in the contemplative aspect of their vocation. Often the con-cM poverty. As a matter of fact, in spite of its insufficiency, we cannot find a better term to designate this very precise reality: the combina-tion of an apostle's life with a monastic type of life. Let us add that we are abstracting, and we do so designedly, from any discussion of the distinction or the relative dignity of the "states of life" which could influence the use of this expression. Hence, we use the term in a strictly pragmatic way. templative practice is so inferior to the formula which the proposed life promises that the need for honesty and authen-ticity, so pressing in our day, demands that we abandon this fundamental inconsistency as soon as possible. These are our. only choices: either return to an apostolic life t~ruly based on a real contemplative life; or renounce, purely and simply, the pretense of leading a mixed life. This latter action implies the abolition of monastic observance. General Conditions Jor Revival If we really choose an integral return to the mixed life, we must first of all, in view .of the present crisis, clarify the situation in the light of the original end of the order as well as in that of the fundamental ideas of the present evolution of civilization. Thus we will be able to cethink and, if neces-sary, to revise the choice of means. The return to the primi-tive ideal aims, first of all, at the major components of the mixed life and the ideal proper to the individual order; only after that, and in a conditional manner, at the particular details and observances. AdaptatiOn to modern conditions has no value in itself. Its influence will be salutary only in so far as it facilitates a return to the authentic ideal of the order and effectiveness in the accomplishment of its specific mission. All this effort of revival will bear fruit only if it is inspired by a lived experience ~f the mixed life end if it is guided by a concern for keeping an effective apostolate united to a contemplative attitude which is more than just theoretical.2 A Specific Vocation One of the reasons why our contemporaries rarely get deeply involved in the mixed life is that they are too little conscious of the important role that the contemplati+e apostle fills in the total picture of the care of souls. This is why the revitalization of this life must be made on the general level of the Church, particularly by revealing it as one of the very first needs of the Christian community. Whereas the members of active orders often carry on their apostolic activity in the concrete context of secular life, prepared to perform within it their important and very specialized tasks, the religious who live the mixed life (while they too are in direct contact with the world about them) have, before all else, the task of drawing the faithful to a 2 By "contemplative attitude" we mean that psychological attitude of complete receptivity to the word of God which the contemplative life (the organization of a well determined life which finds a communal expression in contemplative orders) seeks to guarantee and whose purpose is to open the soul to the graces of prayer. Among these graces we single out contemplation strictly so-called: that prayerful and simplified gaze which rests in the loving contemplation of God through His mysteries and in His works. ÷ ÷ ÷ Active Monastic Orders VOLUME 23, 1964 275 spiritual recollection in the world of faith. By their study, by their apostolate, they are to strive, above all else, to safeguard the gospe! inspiration of the Christian life in all its intensity. By their contemplative spirit they are to radiate in the world an atmosphere ~f spiritual, peace Which allows a man to disengage himself from his extreme activism and the "cult of efficiency" which so often affects religion. Based on a Paradox The mixed life is founded on a paradox. As St. Thomas shows in his Treatise on the States of L~e, it is precisely because of a concern for the apostolic end that one takes care of the contemplative life above all. This means that the community life itself must be conceived of in such a way that the apostle, coming home from a very intense ministry, will return each time into an atmosphefe which easily leads him to dwell in mind and heart in the realities of faith. In addition to the vows of religion, this atmosphere results especially from the following elements: the symbolic and rhythmic expression Of communal prayer, a style of life motivated by the desire of living consciously in the presence of God (that is, religious customs, architecture and decor, ~lothing, and so forth), a horarium dominated by this same concern, continual silence and the practice of private prayer which is not prescribed, exterior and interior distance (relative, it is true) from what is current and passing, a certain austerity of life which tends to free the soul for divine things. In brief, this mixed life involves a measure of monastic life.3 A person can hardly maintain this mixed life and its monastic elements for very long nor live it in a fruitful manner unless he really believes that this formula of life has an immediate practical value. At present it is precisely this belief that is missing. We find a magnificent theory (conteraplari et contemplata aliis tradere), but too often the practice is sterile and without conviction. V. Walgrave, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Ambivalence of the Monastic Element Like the vows of religion and the forms of austerity, the different elements of the monastic life reveal an important ambivalence. Choral prayer, strict silence, a symbolic style of expression, and so on contribute to the flowering of the Christian life and the apostolate only to the degree that they 3 The expression "monastic life" is taken here in the broad sense. That is to say, it does not refer exclusively to monks strictly so-called but to all religious who have in common with them their traditional forms of life, such as we have just enumerated. In this sense one can say that the canons regular and the members of the so-called mendicant orders lead a monastic life, though simplified. However, apart from the Carmelites and in some degree the Hermits of St. Augustine also, none of these orders is really born from monasticism. have been assimilated in a spirit of humble love, completely free from any naturalistic compromise. If observed only in their externals and without a respectful submission, they will hinder spiritual development. On the other hand, a fidelity that is egocentric and perfectionist will seriously threaten the authenticity of this spiritual development and, at the same time, the psychic balance of the person. In each of these cases, the practice of the mixed life will be really disadvantageous to the apostolate: it will limit its quantity without increasing its value. Consequently, we should not be surprised if, in our day, we often find that the renunciation of the effective practice of the mixed life and of the practices of austerity which it implies renders the spiritual life more vibrant and the apostolate more fruitful. But the cause of the spiritual slackening which was experienced earlier is to be found not in the monastic life as such but in the way in which it was undertaken, in the lack of receptivity and of humble respect for those things that are ritual or for observance. Ambivalence of the Apostolic Element A similar ambivalence affects the apostolate with regard to its bearing on the contemplative life, If the apostolate of a religious is animated primarily by his need for activity and personal fulfillment .or if it is dictated almost wholly by a secular messianism (whether or not associated with Christian dogma), it will inevitably end by making his return to the monastic atmosphere unbearable. On the contrary, any apostolate worthy of the name will ultimately lead the soul of the apostle into intimacy with God. His return to the monastery will be experienced as a return into a world conformed to his proper state of soul, and hence as a refreshment. It is understandable that at the same time as the mixed orders are searching for a new equilibrium within a civiliza-tion which has profoundly changed, the superiors are particularly concerned with safeguarding the atmosphere of the monastery and the recollection of the religious from an unbridled activism. But the fear of a committed and intense apostolate indicates just as basic a misunde~:standing of the mixed life. For it is an oversimplification to consider that those religious who very rarely leave the confines of their cloister are better religious. If the religious return spiritually weakened by their contact with the world, it means that their formation in the life of prayer and monastic practice was miscarried. This unfortunate development explains a good number of conflicts which find the superior, who is concerned with guaranteeing the authenticity of the conventual life, in opposition to religious who are animated with a sincere apostolic zeal. 4- 4- 4- Active Monastic Orders VOLUME 23, 1964 ÷ ÷ V. Walgrove, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 278 The Monastic Renaissance osf the Nineteenth Century We cannot understand the roots, of the present crisis unless we consider the renaissance of monastic life in the last centm'y. Indeed, it is in studying the nineteenth centu.ry that one finds that the causes we have just enumerated are already at work. An egocentric and subjective sensibility inherited from the. proud humanism of the l~enaissance continued to determine the cultural climate of this century. Even the monks, in spite of ~he thoroughly dogmatic em-phasis which characterizes their liturgical piety, in .spite of their expressed desire to deliver themse!ves unreservedly to the influences of grace, were not able sufficiently to avoid being contaminated by this tendency toward serf-fulfill-ment-- ordinarily, of course, under the form of a religious perfectionism. Now, an egocentricity of self-fulfillment easily leads to a fundamental cleavage in the way we experience reality: on the one hand there is an exclusively rational and artificial taking over of elements that can hardly succeed in giving flesh to the original vital movement; and on the other hand there is a pampered sentimentalism (?eligious romanti-cism!) which keeps affectivity and feeling from really becoming interior and personal. It follows from all this. that the religious orientation' was able only feebly to express itself in the symbolic language of the monastic structure, Also, the combination of a cult of the medieval past with the perfectionism already mentioned led the restoration to embrace the conventual observances of the preceding periods in a manner that was too rigid. Hence, despite the Christian grandeur of the renewal of the old orders, despite the holiness and magnanimity of the restorers, the latter were not able to prevent the slide towards a practice of monastic prescriptions that was too little authentic, and hence formalistic. One became very "observant," but rarely contemplative. Distance from the world brought with it an apostolic absence from the world. And, .alongside a way of life that was obviously severe there was often pro-vision for a number of bourgeois satisfactions. In these conditions, it is understandable that sometimes fidelity to the constitutions had already been very hesitant and defective.This would be the case especially in the outlying provinces or among peoples whose thinking lends itself less readily to formalism or to an ideal tinged with romanticism and conceived apart from real needs. This artificiality will have as its consequence that at a given moment many elements of monastic life, and even the very ideal of it, will be experienced as alien elements, as con-tinually burdensome. A crisis manifests itself, one that brings the very existence of the order itseff into question. The Contemporary Reaction The reaction against the exaggerations and illusions of this preceding period, has led us. to an ambiguous position, one from which we must ha~en to free ourselves. The resolute character of this 'reaction is explained by the fact that it is the fruit of a real life experience. This is the case not only among the young who, because of the coinci-deiace of several factors, have never had the opportunity of identifying themselves very deeply with the traditional observances but also among a number of older men who are still conscious of that period when traditions were. never questioned in a critical manner. Indeed, among the spokes-men for the "modernizing" trend we find some religious who were first generously engaged in the way of the "strict .observance." But, not having been able to escape from the influence of a climate of observance which is perfectionist and consequently formalistic, they have experienced in themselves all the narrow-mindedness and all the danger of lack of balance that this sort of thing can bring with it. In the end, it is the desire for a truer Christianity and a freer apostolic spirit which leads them to reject expressly several elements which .are indispensable to a contemplative way of life. But, what is more important, this same trend has plainly been influenced by deviations characteristic of our age: whereas formerly the temper of the age affected religious life only in an unconscious or unacknowledged way, the contemporary generation tends consciously to identify itself with modern aspirations, espousing them even in those things which are incompatible and unassimilable from the religious point of view. Thus, in appealing to the essential (the end), to the functional (the means), and to the authentic (the intention), it turns back on the recent past as ,bearing in itself the proof of the ineffectiveness, religious or apostolic, of much of the traditional "media" of the mixed life, How-ever, this generation does not note that the partial failure of the restoration is bound up with the precise fact that there was too much of a concession to the unrecognized influence of those same too-human evaluations which, in our day, are drivingus to eliminate essential elements of the mixed life. (It is true that since then important changes have been produced in western humanism: thus communal anthropocentrism has replaced individualistic anthro-pocentrism.) The conditioning of a person by the temper of his age leads to another regrettable consequence: that is, an inability to be mov(d by strictly ~eligious values and to be resonant to their proper modes of expression. This phenomenon springs in part from a too earthbound humanism, with which so many persons who desire to belong to God are ÷ ÷ ÷ Active Monastic Orders VOLUME 23, 1964 279 imbued--at least on the level of their automatic and un-controlled keactions. On the level of affectivity, these persons are in a "closed" situation which, in great part, paralyzes in advance every self-offering movement towards the trans-cendent world of the divine and, by the same token, all commitment. A Contemplative Renewal? For some time now a general trend in favor of the con-templative spirit and life has manifested itself almost all over the world. Not on!y do the multiplication of contempla-tive monasteries (especially in countries which are better off materially) or the monastic revival which is springing up in every diverse Protestant milieu bear witness to this, but also the ever increasing number of studies on the subject :. biblical, historical, and theological studies which treat especially the .essence of the religious life, the original con-ception of monastic life, and its function in the ChmZch. + 4- 4- V. Walgrave, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 280 After the Wave of "Liberation" It is true that up to now a general movement of liberation and of return to authenticity dominates the forward moving wing of the Church to the practical exclusion of every other consideration. It is true that this same movement very much holds the attention of the old orders, which are also preoc-cupied with freeing themselves from all formalism and with not living shut up within themselves. But, once this move-ment has achieved a certain level of maturity, the contem-plative or mixed life will very quickly appear to the Christian elite as an ecclesial task of the.highest importance, In fact, when one stops to consider the very secular perspective in which a number of Christians grasp the great ideas of our epoch (such as: authenticity of life, the reasser-tion of effective values, the communal ideal, "cosmic prog-ress"), we must indeed conclude that rarely before in history has it been so necessary to reaffirm the transcendence of the divine and the folly of the cross. Indeed, it is only in the light of these fundamental truths that we can integrate those modern values with the work of redemption. That is to say that at the very center of Christianity we must encounter men who are manifestly living in the grip of God's reality-- contemplatives. II. Primordial Condition: Grasp the Ideal Later on we will treat some of the methods of self-ap-praisal that have become indispensable for a proper func-tioning of the mixed life. But these subjective means have value only to the extent that they can assure a free flowing of the mystical springs of the religious life, that they can help us realize the primordial condition: a firm grasp of the ideal. What good is it to free the gaze of the heart if it lack a world vision, a great cause capable of raising us beyond our limitations? Indeed, such a vision must become, so to speak, a part of one's psychological structure in such a way that it shapes and gives direction to all of a person's spon-taneous reactions. We are thus led to present two theses: 1. The regenerative role of theology. This global vision which absorbs our attention ever more and more will direct our gaze first of all to the reality of God our Creator and Savior. That is to say, the religious will be penetrated by a theologi-cal total view of the meaning and structure of the Christian life. In it will be integrated the results of the biblical, his-torical, and speculative researches that recent generations have produced. We are convinced, furthermore, that this consciousness of the worth and requirements of the mixed life will emerge only in the framework of a renewed theologi-cal perspective. Hence, a theological emphasis must be present in our religious formation and in our religious consciousness. This dimension must be given in a way adapted to the subject from the very beginning of religious life. 2. Continuity with thefou~nder. The particular order to which a person belongs must be understood in this same global perspective. In spite of its obsession with progress and its constant preoccupation with the future, our own age loves to search history. In view of this, the young ought to be presented with the origins of their order, with the master ideas which, from the beginning, have established its voca-tion in the Church and which are expressed in a certain number of its traditional elements. Thanks to this confronta-tion with living history, the master ideas will come through in their vision of the future as a truly contemporary call. Revision of Observances: Return to the Sources or Adaptation? The return to the sources of the mixed life implies a reflection on the profound meaning of usages and customs, of different forms of traditional expression. An eventual reworking will be constructive only if the following conditions are observed : a) One must know how to distinguish judiciously between the difficulty of application stemming from the fact that a prescription takes its obvious meaning from circumstances that are strictly historical and that no longer obtain, and the difficulty which originates either in the passing insuffi-ciencies of modern man himself or in the present make-up of the order, province, or abbey. In this last case, the question to be asked is not, "How can we modify this prescription? What is there which the present group is right now capable of assimilating?" It is rather, "How can we get candidates better adapted; how can we form the members of the order 4- 4- OArcdti~veers Monastic VOLUME 2~, 1964 28! V. Walg~ave, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 282 to understand customs of this nature and to have the spir-itual attitude which corresponds to them?" b) The second condition is that the judgment must pro-ceed not only from an historical or psychological knowledge of the factors in question but also from a lived experience of the mixed life that is penetrated with a concern to safe-guard it. This experience can be incomplete on the active side as well as on the contemplative side. In fact, the judg-ment on an aspect of the mixed life can be just as much falsified by an exclusive preference for the elements of the monastic life as by a one-sided orientation towards activity. Once these principles are applied, however numerous the modifications proposed, even if they eliminate some usage dear to traditionalist sentiment, they will not cause any injury to the order as such. Rather, the result will be just the opposite since these changes will be inspired by a sense of the specific purpose of the order and a concern for apos-tolic or monastic effectiveness. As long as these two conditions are not met with, one will argue off the point and will judge to be outmoded or ineffective that which really corresponds with an eternal need of the contemplative soul. This mistake at present threatens in a most serious way the right evolution of several orders with a monastic foundation. Biblical Existence and Monastic Life Among the elements of spirituality which attract the attention of modern man in a special way, corresponding as it does to his own temperament, there is none able to exercise as favorable an influence on the contemplative. renewal as the tendency towards an "existential" attitude conceived within the biblical perspective. Understood in a superficial way, this attitude could easily lead to a militant anti-formalism or to an opposition to every kind of norm or usage imposed in common. Taken in its real meaning (that is, conceiving the order of nature as well as that of revelation as an historic action of the living God who calls me to respond), the biblical attitude of dialogud favors the total absorption of the soul by a personal God, by the living Christ. This personalization of attention and intention signifies at the same time the personalization of the monastic life, of recollection, and of asceticism, constituting by that very fact the best remedy against the subjectivism of every kind which has brought so much harm to the spiritual development of religious milieux. Liturgical Requirements The second element of modern spirituality which brings the contemplative attitude closer to us is the liturgical renewal. The "existential" encounter with the redeeming God is achieved in the liturgy. Now, the contemplative community presents itself as a liturgical community par excellence. The monastic life asks to be nothing else but a continuation of the liturgical action which embraces the whole of life, just as the conventual day should live by the ideas and sentiments brought to it by the Divine Office. It follows that the liturgical~ renewal presently taking place will be decisive in great part for the monastic renewal which is manifesting itself in the old orders. It is, then, of the utmost importance that the liturgy be able to present itself to the religious in a form apt to be lived by them in a personal way. To attain this end it is necessary: (a) that the work of accommodating ceremonial on certain points continue judiciously; (b) that the Breviary be thoroughly revised with an eye to increasing the directly religious value of the texts (that is, Lessons, choice of Psalms and Canticles) ; (c) that, with regard to the Psalms to be recited, we come up with, finally and' in spite of everything, a version that is at once faithful and drawn up in a simple and rhythmic Latin, the Latin of the fathers. Finally, we think it is probable that in order to assure the pastoral efficacy of the choral Office (in mixed orders) it will be necessary one day to adapt part of the Office so as to permit the faithful to participate in it in a direct manner. The "Conventual Brotherhood" As a third element of the contemporary renewal whose conscious engrafting will be of decisive import for the future of that religious life which has a monastic foundation we propose the reinvigoration of the dimension of community. The monastery constitutes par excellence a "brother-hood" united by the bond of charity. The sense of "brother-hood" is the more necessary according as the life of the members is lived in greater silence and solitude. It is a fact that the subjectivism of times past has led us to an individu-alism in thought and feeling so as greatly to diminish aware-ness of the normal connotation of this brotherhood. Also, a stern perfectionism often favored an affective harshness which stripped the common life of its note of spontaneity and cheerfulness. The present reaction against this climate of spiritual individualism is animated, no doubt, by a need for affective liberation. But it borrows its significance above all from the profound need of "socialization" that marks modern man. He wants to live his vocation and fulfill his primary tasks with his brethren beside him in a communion that is really experienced. Of course there are risks. A superficial conception can lead to an absolute "horizontalism," to the detriment of every purely religious value lived prior to the encounter with one's neighbor: a life of adoration and sacrifice lived in silence and solitude. At the same time it can endanger the ÷ ÷ ÷ Active Monastic Orders VOLUME 23, 1964 283 4. ÷ 4. V. Walgrave, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 284 original meaning of the vows of religion, especially that of obedience. But, understood as it ought to be, this re,empha-sis of fraternal charity w!ll provide a guarantee of authen-ticity for our personal relations with God. Besides, it will favor a conception of the vows that is more complete, more in conformity with the full intention of the counsels of Christ as we find them in the Gospel. The re-enrichment of the vows of religion with a communitarian dimension is an urgent matter. Authority and the Attitude oAr Dialogue Among the direct consequences of accenting the social dimension, a more communitarian exercise of authority should especially be mentioned. This exercise will be based on an attitude of dialogue, a prolongation of that attitude adopted toward God. The conventual "brotherhood" constitutes at the same time a community of endeavor, united especially in a com-mon prayer and work. The superior is above all the repre-sentative of the common ideal of service of God, as the members have freely chosen it and to which they have bound themselves unconditionally. If the religious has bound himself by his profession to a total obedience to the "orders of his superior, this in no wise diminishes the supe-rior's duty of safeguarding and promoting the communal character of the religious undertaking. Thanks to the social orientation of our age, it has become possible to improve yet more the communal dimension of the regime of obedience. This improvement implies, first of all, a more personalized acceptance of the subject just as he is, in a spirit of under-standing and respect, allowing him to express his point of view frankly. This acceptance will correspond moreover to the present tendency of the young to show their superiors a greater openness of soul and a more filial confidence. Secondly, the evolution we have noted will require opportunities for an exchange of ideas on the level of the group as such in preparation for the making of decisions. Whereas up to now authority has ordinarily confined itself to imposing or determining a multitude of individual tasks as though from the outside, it now tends more and more to become the directing principle of a common task, supported by a common thought and activity. The sense of initiative is seeking to find its place in the life of the group as such. This new orientation is fitted to purify the exercise of authority from every egocentric identification of the person of the superior with his power--though it be often uncon-scious. In consequence it will make obedience easier and more authentic, immunizing it from the spirit of servility or shabby calculation. The unavoidable transition in which we are engaged will be favorable to religious renewal only in so far as the superiors do not give in to the current of a false democrati-zation or of a leveling of the transcendent character of authority and its appropriate expressions. The just mean is the more difficult to find as the problem is rather new. There is the risk of improvising, of going beyond that which is compatible with the rule of religious 01~'edidnce: "as a democratic equality in accordance with which a subject would discuss a matter with his superior until they arrive at a solution pleasing to.them both.''4 But, besides that, an even more fundamental condition is only rarely fulfilled. Dialogue within the framework of religious obedience pre-supposes as a common basis for exchanges of opinion a com-mon conception of the ideal and of its elementary require-ments. Now it must be admitted that in active orders that have a monastic foundation this unity of conception is lacking2 The superior who is desirous of preserving essential traditions in the face of changes that are imposed and enters onto the path of dialogue quickly finds himself confronted with an impossible task: he must raise the discussion of a number of delicate questions concerning the religious life which are, .for the most part, based upon a lack of under-standing of the contemplative element and its monastic expressions. Since these problems are very complicated and since there is generally a lack of a clear and firm interven-tion on the part of the legislator and the major superiors, l~e quickly finds himself compelled to be content with a more traditional exercise of power, thus increasing the unrest of his subordinates. From all this, two points clearly emerge: (I) in general, the coincidence of the crisis of the mixed life with the break-through of the spirit of dialogue has much to do with the precipitancy with which the dismantling of the contempla-tive and monastic regimes is being accomplished in the orders in question; (2) the reassuring or reform of this regime must begin with a renewed insight into the very idea of the mixed life and a renewed recognition of the internal coher-ence of its essential elements. In Quest of Evangelical Poverty The renewal of the mixed life is inconceivable without a rediscovery of poverty. This is the case primarily because the contemplative attitude is essentially oblative, and thus it is in contradiction to our possessive instincts. The purifica-tion of these instincts presupposes a detachment which is not simply one in principIe but one that is sensibly felt. The problem becomes especially disturbing when we view it from the ecclesial angle. Our witness to God's tran-scendence loses a great deal of its force as long as we do not 4 Plus XII, Altocution to 30th General Congregation of the Society of Jesus, September 10, 1957, The Pope Speaks, v. 4 (1957-1958), p. 449. ÷ ÷ ÷ Active Monastic Orders VOLUME 2~, 1964 285 ÷ ÷ ÷ V. Walgrave, o.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 286 clearly appear freed from the tyranny of material wants and the cult of security which characterizes our age. Our better Christians sense this connection vividly, If they suffer from their submersion in material needs, it is often because they recognize therein a lack of faith in God and in the message of Christ. And it is in vain that they seek in us, through our effective detachment, an indisputable expres-sion of this faith. The question is urgent: how can we conceive for religious life an expression of evangelical poverty that is appropriate for our age? How can a real sense of Christian risk be joined with the functional realism we must have? This inquiry, and it is becoming more and more lively, will not cease until the adequate answer has been fofind. Finally, we cannot close our eyes to the destructive misery of the underdeveloped world which is aggravated in propor-tion to the development of our wealth. In our era, when man's awareness has acquired a "planetary" dimension, the desire to live in conformity with the poor and suffering Christ--an essential trait of religious life--seeks inevitably to incarnate itself in a style of life which, by solidarity with His disinherited brethren, leaves flatly behind the arrogant abundance which surrounds us on all sides. Remoteness from the World Among the modern currents Which have a rather negative signification for the mixed life, special mention should be given to the tendency to exteriorization and immersion in contemporary affairs. Now, ih an apostolic community with a contemplative foundation, one must always maintain, in spite of the lively attention he gives to the evolution of this world, a relative, but quite apparent, distance .from things of present interest. This distance finds expression in the cloister, a material and spiritual partition which moderates com-munication with the world outside. For the moment, the preoccupation with an apostolate adapted to the style and rhythm of our civilization tends to neutralize completely this function of the cloister. The principal objection to the traditional viewpoint is that the modern apostle must keep up with the political, social, and cultural events of the day, just as his hearers do, by the many means of communication: radio, television, films, magazines, and so on. Such a conclusion is precipitate and rests upon a funda-mental confusion. The unlimited multiplication of contacts with present-day happenings is not the means that will bring us an understanding of modern man. By modelling our life on that of a Christian in the world, by introducing the mass media of communication indiscriminately as habitual elements in our life, we destroy that very perspec-tive which is so important for judging the true direction of current events. Moreover, we make too difficult the attitude of recollection and searching for God; and this is the very raison d'etre of the whole monastic apparatus. Nor should one imagine that intensive contact with the world will favor the efficacy of. our specific, mission. For the word which takes its il~sp~ration from this'contact only rarely communicates the Gospel message to the deepest aspirations of the modern soul. The resulting presentation may indeed be more "striking," but it will always be too facile as well. The primary conditions for a true understanding of and fruitful approach to modern society are of quite a different nature. What we must have are, first of all, a knowledge of human nature, just that, acquired through a humble self-knowledge as well a~ by other means; an authentic esteem for earthly values which will permit us to be in empathy (free from all religious smugness) with the man of-today as he is; and an extensive understanding bf the formation of contemporary civilization and its in.n.er logic. However, along with all this it would be highly desirable not only to initiate the young religious methodically into the world that the communications media evoke but also-- parallel to what will be said on the matter of formation for the mixed life--to arrange intensive contacts with certain representative milieux of present-day society. Thus, the approach to the modern world will be prepared not by a process of lowering the plane of conventual life to the level of the world but by a better general formation and a conscious and well-guided initiation. Reinvigoration of Monastic Initiation If the mixed life is to be more than a formula and if the contemplative element is to maintain its elementary solidity at the heart of the .apostolic life, a solid initiation to the monastic manner of living has to be provided. Among other things, such an initiation will demand: a) That young religious be taught to avoid all confusion between end and means, between .the essential and the accidental. Let us add that the "functional" or practical mentality, which is characteristic of the new generation, will for its part be able to exert a tonic influence on the spirit which animates observance and worship, b) That the young also be taught to respect the necessity of using means as well as their proper finality and to be attentive to details. This attitude presupposes, first of all, an understanding of different observances and forms of expression; more than ever before it must be shown (in a solid and carefully studied way) how these different practices correspond on the one hand to what is eternal in the needs of man and on the other to what is of positive value in modern aspirations. Further-more, it presupposes an awareness that the assimilation of ÷ ÷ ÷ Active Monastic Orders VOLUME 23, 1964 + ÷ V. Walgrave, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 988 rites and observances, of chant and psaimody demand-_ - precise knowledge of various details and an unreserve~l commitment to their practice just as mastering a modern technique does;in fact, in both cases it is "virtuosity" which will permit a person to handle the "technical" means in a way so fluent that his mind, freed by this from all serf-conscious hesitation, will easily be able to turn toward the essential (in the case that concerns us: to aim at spiritual realities through the external "media," to integrate these "media" ever more and more into the spiritual movement of the soul towards God). This line of thinking leads us to formulate two theses in a more explicit manner, which once admitted will profoundly modify the pedagogical perspec-tive of the old orders. Integration of Personal Self-Awareness Very often the old orders consider it an element of their ascetical excellence that,, simply by the fact of their com-munal liturgical and monastic framework, they lead their members to an attitude of religious "objectivity," permitting them to go beyond a subjectivist self-awareness. It would be enough to hand oneself over unreservedly to this framework. This optimistic point of view seems to us completely outmoded in view of the psychological evolution that .is presently at work in mankind. With Rfgamey we posit the thesis that, for the self-aware type of person which modern man often is, a return to a "naive" attitude before the invitation of the transcendent is no longer possible. It is hardly a matter of adopting an attitude of pure objectivity and simply leaving the subjective aside. Many times one can conquer subjectivism only by going to the end of the road of self-awareness. III. Psychological Methods It follows that the renewal of the contemplative and mixed life---forms of life which, more than any other, require an objective attitude of soul--will be greatly assisted by in-troducing modern psychological methods in the formation and direction of the individual as well as in group work both within and outside the monastery.5 It is a question here of methods, basically very simple and human, which are more and more leaving their mark on the dynamic structure of the new society: methods of adapting to the social milieu and the mechanical aspects of our civili-zation, methods of individual and public relations, and so on, The younger generation accepts this very readily, moved as it is by that realism which accepts the complexity of 5 To avoid any confusion, let us say in advance that by the term "psychological method" and others like it we never envision psycho-analysis, which will always be a matter for specialists and which should be used with the greatest prudence. psychological facts, even blazing a trail through this como plexity to a new kind of simplicity, a simplicity that is arrived at by conscious, technical analysis. When secular businesses and organizations are profiting extensively and in a very concrete way from these multiple insights into the nature of maii~ it is unthinkable that we who are engaged in an enterprise much more important should neglect appealing to these same means--and that sometimes for lack of simplicity. For a Better Self-Knowledge As a first result of adopting modern psychological meth-ods, we would mention a Serf-knowledge that is more pro-found and better assimilated. In fact, contemporary psy-chology offers us an analgsi~s of the very depths bf the soul, that is to say, of those unconscious or barely conscious motivations which determine the. worth of a subject's involvement in an ideal. It makes us see the different types or psychological structures which can result from these motivations, the direction that the person's evolution receives from them, and the symptoms whose recognition will permit us to adjust these structures. The initiation into this "motivational" knowledge of oneself presupposes the' elaboration, based on what is called depth psychology, first, of a typology of the motiva-tion which dominates the commitment in question (here, in religious life), and secondly, of a method of individual formation with a view to acquiring a like serf-knowledge. This kind of self-knowledge will make it possible for the reflexive man to rediscover the attitude of spirit, feeling, and body that is called "objective." This attitude will mean for him a psychological facility in leaving the self behind and so arriving at a truly contemplative orientation. Psychosomatic Problems and the Contemplative Attitude Modern psychology has also served to draw our attention to the meaning of a certain number of psychosomatic phenomena.We have not hitherto taken sufficiently into account the fact that they are the symptoms of a psychic (if not moral) selfishness and that they also constitute a serious obstacle to the normal development of the contem-plative attitude and, consequently, of the apostolate it ought to inspire. Of these we may mention: general unrest of mind and body, an always hasty manner of acting, a yen for activity and change, impatience, certain forms of ennui-- understanding each of these traits as a permanent disposition which clearly dominates the psychological make-up of the subject. Indeed, the psychosomatic disturbances in question will often be largely the effect of contamination by the modern ÷ ÷ ÷ Active Monastic Orders VOLUME 23~ 1964 289 ÷ ÷ V. Walgrave, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 290 environment. But the mentality and patterns thus trans-mitted grat't themselves very naturally onto the seN-centered elements we always have within us. It is from these thht they receive their stability, while keeping their own form of expression. Hence, to avoid these disturbances or to prevent their growth, we must, before all else, call upon this self-knowl-edge which we have just sketched. The lived discovery of their ~elf-centered roots and the humble acknowledgment of the voluntary element which can be mixed in there will be decisive in the transformation of the personality in depth. In the second place (and only in the second place), there is the question of influencing the psychosomatic dynamism by methods which approach it directly on its own ground. The modern world, suffering so much from nervous over-stimulation, appears to be turning more and more toward a number of related techniques (Zen Buddhism, Yoga, etc.), seeking there, in an atmosphere of quasi-religion and mysticism, for definitive deliverance from its anguish. Everywhere one comes across religious who are seeking in some of these means a tonic for personal dynamism. It remains to be seen how far these techniques will be useful in the spiritual ascent of the Christian--the authentic fruit of grace. Classic Laws o3r Spiritual Evolution The renewal of methods of formation and direction should be accompanied by a restoration of the classic doctrine of the fundamental laws that govern the evolution of the interior life. At present, this doctrine is neglected almost everywhere or-is even unknown. The teachings of a Saint Thomas Aquinas or a Saint John of the Cross on this subject would seem to most people to be of little more than theoretical interest, treating of things which undoubtedly happen somewhere in the Church but which it would be dangerous to try to situate in our everyday lives. Now, it is necessary to bring clearly to. the fore the truth 'that the laws in question' truly dominate the evolution, the success or failure, of life in religion. Monastic life is only a .particular area of application of this same process of as-similation. This means that, just as it is true of the life of prayer in general, so also the regimen of monastic observ-ances and the following of the evangelical counsels can obtain value as an authentically religious expression only through a period of aridity and trial during which a humble perseverance assures us of the purification of our profound automatic responses and desires. Without passing that way, one cannot judge the Christian value of the elements which make up this life. Where, for example~and it is so often the case~monastic prescriptions are assumed only as a social arrangement that is the obiect of a critical regard or a playful benevolence, then they will become in fact, and very quickly; a useless piece of baggage. "Inevitable Crises Sincere personal ihvolvement' in the religiogs life and its process of evolution will inevitably lead a person through one or several cri~es of alienation and interior solitude. In fact, life in a re.ligious house, above all where that life is fundamentally monastic,'makes us enter upon a Christian perspective that is very clear, even radical. Everything there expresses the Christian'.s conversion to God. Intimate identification.with its specific forms of expression obliges us to a theocentric rearrangement of our spontaneous judg-ments, to a conscious revision of our earthly and culpable self-centeredness, a real "metanoia" of soul. This transition involves a man in a kind of migration. For, while advancing into this new country, we are leaving to that extent an old land so close to our heart. The feelings of strangeness and loneliness are only the expression on a psychological level of this spiritual exodus of the soul. "The resoluteness and perseverance with which we go through these often difficult periods express in a normal way the Christian commitment which inspires our presence in the religious house. Thus it is evident that these difficult passages are of extreme importance. Often, unfortunately, spiritual di-rectors seek only to "cover up" these crises, preoccupied as they are with avoiding all discouragement or nervous tension. Now, it is only by penetrating and making one's own the inner meaning of this situation while carrying on a dialogue of love with God that one will come to the point of a definitive entry onto the path of religious or monastic life. Only in this way can the nearness of God and the symbolic world of the religious house (above all, if it be basically contemplative) become for this person a place where he is truly at home. This means that the spiritual attitudes which correspond connaturally to this milieu have drawn to themselves and thoroughly assimilated the pro-fotind forces of our spontaneity. Formation to the Mixed Life It is characteristic of the mixed life, as we have said, that the apostolate, the end of the order, is intimately bound up with the contemplative form of life. Evidently, the harmoni-zation of these two attitudes, contemplative and active, is not easy for anyone. From the viewpoint of formation, it requires not only a preparation for a contemplative attitude (all the more explicit as it will have to be able to witl~stand the skirmishes and shocks of an intense activity) but also a formation to the mixed life as such. This seems to us to imply that the young religious be given + + + Active Monastic VOLUME 23, 1964 291 V. Walgrave, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS brief and well-defined apostolic tasks even .before the end of ¯ their theoretical education. This formation should be completed later, during the first period of the apostolate, by a kind of guidance not unlike the "supervision" used in the formation of social workers. It will be aimed not only at the strictly technical aspects of the apostolate and its religious efficacy in souls but also fat the personal problems posed by the attempt to reconcile action with the requirements of the contemplative life. The method of "supervision" is basically simple and .natural, but it requires a technical preparation. Its practice takes much time, requires great effort and a perfectly com-mitted interest on the part of the '~supervisor," Let us repeat here that the functional simplicity which it supposes cor-responds perfectly to the spiritual .orientation of the new generation. Taking into account the daring nature of the enterprise, one might finally ask if the formation to the mixed life, in order to be sufficiently efficacious, ought not to be completed near the end of the first active period (33-35 years of age?) by a return of several months duration to a way of life more " clearly contemplative. This period of "retreat" would per-mit a reappraisal in depth of the genekal direction that one has taken in his life as well as of the various notions that have been the basis of his spontaneous action. In this way could be prevented certain fixations in the realm of our judgments and inner attitudes which often seriously hinder the progress of the soul as well as the fruitfulness of the apostolate. Besides, this period.would make available the time necessary to fill up those gaps in one's knowledge (Sacred Scripture, dogma, or moral) theology which he has felt to exist during the course of his ministry. In general, when in the milieu of the ancient orders such an idea is easily rejected, this is not because (as is usually pretended) a return to an intensified recollection would be something superfluous for us who lead a partly contempla-tive life. On the contrary, if the very idea of such a return is enough to cause an unpleasant chili (another novitiate D, it is because we have never deeply assimilated the con-templative part of our life. Another indication of this situation can be seen in the many mitigations made for some time now in the arrange-ment of the annual retreat. It is true that these mitigations often increase the spiritual yield of the retreat. But this comes simply from the fact that the subject himself has become incapable of giving himself profoundly to a.re°re exacting regimen. Such a program represents an ideal from which he feels too far removed and in which he hardly believes any more. His need for authenticity impels him to reject it. IV. True Religious Houses If an order of mixed life is to be able to live up to its vocation, it is necessary that the majority of its members really participate in this type of life by residing in a "nor-mal" religious house; that.is to say one in which,the monastic prescriptions of the particular order are honored. In many countries the number of these houses is limited to the houses 'of formation. This amounts to saying that in practic~e the "mixed life" is conceived of in two successive stages: a contemplative regime, preparing for a life that is merely active. Even more complicated is the question of determining how large a house should be in Order that'it can provide the minimum requisite for monastic life and atmosphere while at the same time giving its members the freedom necessary for an active ministry. This will depend very much on the general conception of the particular order: 1. In an order whose tradition has always placed the accent upon a retired life in a strongly contemplative environment and that has conformed its methods of aposto-late to that, the number could be smaller than in another which conceives of its apostolate as a vanguard dialogue with the world on the mov, e. 2. In a mixed order where the contemplative life is founded moreover on the communal framework of choral office and monastic observances (such are the orders that are heirs of the canons), it would be very difficult to preserve its proper life without a system of large religious houses (about twenty persons in the Case of a very active order). The Choice o j: Tasks For the mixed life to be the rule rather than the exception, it will be necessary clearly to distinguish between the tasks that are reconcilable with this life and those which are not, whether by their nature or in the conditions of their exercise. In general, the acceptable tasks will be ones that have a directly religious meaning and that can be arranged in such a way as tb permit those engaged in them enough time for periodic and sufficiently prolonged stays within the religious house. From this it follows that the taking on of parish work ought to be exceptional. The repeated appeals on the part of certain dioceses or centers of pastoral studies to enlist the mixed orders into the pafochial framework imply a mis-understanding of the nature of their vocation. In the long run, the Christian life of a particular region, will not be enriched by taking religious away from a form of life that has an authentically contemplative orientation. Entirely other is the question of knowing whether the ÷ ÷ Active Monastic Orders VOLUME 2,~1 1964 293 rather large number of pi'iests living in the religious houses of these orders really means a sterile hoarding of elements that would be very useful f~r the apostolate~if, in fact, their monastic activity constitutes a waste of precious capital. Indeed, even if there is question of fervent priests, the result of their affiliation to a religious house will be rather negative if, psychologically speaking, they have not really entered into this monastic framework, making their own its proper orientation. If this is the case, would it not have been pref-erable forthem to have entered a diocese or a congregation with purely active g~als? This being the situation, if one wants to make it evolve in a direction more 'invglved in pasto(al work, he runs the risk of eventually compromising the future of a form of religious life that is extiemely impor-tant for the Church. Finally, we call attention to the fact that it is easier than it used to be for a mixed order to limit itseff to its specific vocation. The existence of.a number of "active" orders and congregations frees us from having to handle, many apostolic functions for which, in the past, we were the only ones available. A More Specialized Recruiting A profound unawareness concerning 'the ultimate objec-tive and the requirements of the mixed life reigns almost everywhere in the orders in question. As an inevitable consequence, a great number of people have beenallowed to. enter who are incapable of living the life in its specific sense or who are little inclined to do so. The presence 0f.these members is undoubtedly one of the greatest obstacles to the restoration of a mixed life worthy of the name. A more realistic and stricter recruiting of candidates is necessary. It is not enough that the candidates be truly interested in the specifically aPOstolic end and works of the order. Too often the monastic element and the contemplative orienta-tion are seen as secondary to the apostolic element and accepted only as something "thrown in for good measure." Enr611ment under this condition is devoid of meaning. In view of the present need for authenticity, the presence of a number of subjects so disposed must lead to an ever more radical dismantling of the monastic character of these orders. V. Walgrave, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 29,1 The Drive to Power and Fidelity to Vocation A group's attachment to its own influence in the Church is bne of the most frequent causes of an order's estrangement from its primitive vocation. Social psychology has convincingly shown how the drive to power can unconsciously inspire even altruistic and well-intentioned plans. It is this same process which is more or less at work in every society, not excluding the most sacred, and it constitutes that "too human" aspect of it which we must understand but never approve. Orders of-mixed life are especially, vulnerable to this tendency because they have to .defend their clearly contem-plative attitude against the pressure of an apostolic posture which is very conspicuous in the Church. The presence.of this danger is seen in the following practices: taking on tasks that are too numerous or unsuitable to the specific vocation; a view of the apostolate that is spontaneously in a spirit of competition; multiplication of small houses; lack of discretion in admitting 9andidates for the sake of numeri-cal success; a distorted presentation ofthe order's ideals, and so forth. The Christian world is less and less inclined tO accept in the Church and in the religious orders this com-promise between moral authority and the drive--whether conscious or unconscious !o domination. Consequently, the orders will see themselves obliged to conceive of their corporate orientation in a more spiritualized, more evangeli-cal manner so that the sense of their size and concern for their influence will no longer exert such pressure on fidelity to their ideal. The future of the mixed life can only gain from this. Are the Mixed Orders Too Numerous? Once we admit the ideal and logic of the mixed life in all their intransigence, we can no longer keep from asking whether the number of these orders is not too great to allow each to respond fully to its vocation. For the person who attaches more importance to spiritual fecundity than to the natural tendency to survival, the question is only too serious. Let us add two points which throw light on the import Of the problem. On the one hand there is the already wide-spread difficulty the contemplative life experiences in supporting itself in the midst of the contemporary world. On the other, it must be remembered that almost all the great orders of the Middle Ages have taken new life while a considerable number of new congregations have arisen by their side, each of them seeking to attract the necessary candidates. ÷ ÷ ÷ Acti~ Monasti~ Orders VOLUME 23s 1964 THOMAS DHBAY, S.M. Updating Puzzlements Thoma~ Duba]~, S~M., is spiritual dr-rector at Notre Dame Seminary; 2901 South Carroll-ton Avenue; New Orleans 18, Louisi-ana. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Anyone even mildly acquaintedwith the thinking of our American sisters in these mid-sixties is aware that there is.a steadily increasing and animated discussion among them dealing with projected apostolic changes in the life of religious women. And as his acquaintance is deepened, he becomes aware that the sisters'-reaction spectrum to the current theory and practice of apostolic adaptation ranges all the way from an eager, impatient enthusiasm through a wait and see interest to a fearful apprehension that the new is going to swamp the old. In our view the overall situation is healthy and the discus-sion beneficial; but, as is commonly the case, not everything that fs being said is of equal value. Some of it is occasioning pet~plexity--and, in a few instances, we think anxiety not too strong a word--among a significant number of our sisters. Even though disturbance is not absent among older religious, we are particularly concerned with the yotinger. Despite their great good will and partially because of it, these latter are especially susceptible to harm resulting from uncertainties in their formation and clashing theories in their reading. Our purpose here is threefold. We wish first of all to suggest two or three formulations of the updating adaptation problem, not merely in. general but as it affects the typical individual religious. Then we propose to set down as .we understand them the causes of the impatience of one group of sisters and the reasons for the fears of a second group. Finally we shall trace out the general lines of procedure which Sacred Scripture and the magisterium of the Church present as guides to religious communities in their actual efforts at aggiornamento. Formulations of the Problem In its popular form our puzzlement may be said to con-sist in conflict between the new and the old in contemporary religious life. Constitutions are currently being modified by general chapters. Some religious feel that the changes are not drastic enough; others are persuaded that they are too drastic. Some have no set opinion but simply wonder what is essential and what is not. This popular perplexity is sharpened by newly appearing books and articles and addresses that recommend apostolic practices at variance with traditional approaches. Many sisters could hardly be more wholehearted in their agreement with the recommen-dations, while others wonder whether they will work with women. The tension is heightened when in a given congrega-tion the difference in apostolic viewpoint (or 15erhaps it is occasionally more a difference in judgments of feasibility) takes the shape of superiors on one side and subjects on the other. A more basic formulation of our problem is rooted in two distinct scriptural streams of spirituality which for our purposes we may style individualistic-contemplative and social-active. The first current lays great stress on the soul's inner life with God, solitary, sheltered, intense, delightful. There are many more instances of this thought pattern :in the Old Testament than we may easily instance here. "One thing I ask of the Lord; this I seek: to dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, that I may gaze on the loveliness of .the Lord . Of you my heart speaks. [The new Latin for verse 8 is clearer than the English: "Tibi loquitur cot meum."] . How precious is your k.indness, O God ] The children of men take refuge in the shadow of your wings. They have their fill 6f the prime gifts of your house. ¯. Only in God be at rest, my soul. When I am with you, the earth delights me not . For indeed, they who withdraw from you perish .But for me, to be near God is my good; to make the Lord God my refuge.''1 This hid-denness- individualist current is, if anything, even more pronounced in the New Testament. The thirty-year example of the eternal Word is vastly impressive, to say nothing of His forty-day retreat and His habit of spending whole nights on the mountain during His public apostolate. What He did in His life He taught in His words, for He judged Mary who merely sat and drank of His wisdom better off than the busy Martha. And St. John tells us, "Do not love the world, or the things that are in theworld" (1 Jn 2:15), while St. Paul admonishes us not to have a taste for this world but rather to seek what is above and thus be hidden with Christ in God." "Therefore, if you have risen with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Mind the things that are above, not the things that are on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God" (Col 3:1-3). The second stream of scriptural spirituality is found especially in the New Testament and its emphasis is on the kerygmatic proclamation of the word to the whole of man- ~ Ps 26:4,8; 35:8-9; 61:6; 72:25,27-8. ÷ ÷ ÷ U~dating Pu=lements VOLUME 2~, 1964 297 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS kind. The precept was given by the eternal Word Himself: "Go into the whole world and preach the gospel to every creature" (Mk 16:15). Its seriousness was more than once underlined by Paul in his words as well as in his life. "How then are they to call upon him in whom they have not believed? But how are they to believe him whom they have not heard? And how are they to hear, if no one preaches?" (Rom 10:14). "For woe to me if I do not preach the gospel !" (1 Cor 9:16). "I charge thee, in the sight of God and Christ Jesus, who will judge the living and the dead b~i his coming and by his kingdom, preach the word, be urgent in season, out of season; reprove, entreat, rebuke with all patience and teaching" (2 Tim 4:1-2). Brought up to date, this formulation of our sisters' apos-tolic puzzlement bears on the relative positions of prayer and work in the contemporary setting. And the pat answer, "a due time for both," does not answer all the sub-questions : Do religious women spend too much time in mental prayer? Is there such a thing as "apostolic mental prayer"? Should active communities still say the Office in choir? If so, how much of it? If not, what shall supply for the nourishment the Office formerly gave their souls? The third formulation of our perplexity centers on the actual mission state of the world today. In this shape the problem may be presented as a comparison between a single verse of Scripture and a few hard facts of twentieth century reality. The scriptural aspect of this formulation is the unvarnished divine precept that the glad tidings be preached to every creature: "Go into the whole world and preach the gospel to every creature," The hard facts which, seen under the light of this verse, should cause a keen discomfort are, first of all, that two thousand years later less than twenty percent of the world has so far accepted the full message. And secondly, the non-Catholic world, we are told, is in-creasing more rapidly than the Catholic. Still more, we have nowhere in sight a number of religious and priestly vocations. sufficient to cope either with 500 million faithful or the over two billion still outside the Mystical Body. To compound a nightmarish situation is the fourth fact of an appalling apathy on the part of the .majority of our Catholic laymen and laywomen. Now the comparison between the divine precept and the human facts sets in bold relief the final formulation of our puzzlement: Given the staggering situation of our missionary condition, how can we rightly continue to emphasize the cozy, contemplative, self-contained elements in the religious life? Should not the sister's dominating passion be the proclamation of the word? Does not aggiornamento demand that religious face the contemporary scene as it exists? Causes of Impatience We can perhaps trace out the reasons for a certam unrest among many religious women according to th~ three ways we have formulated the problem. It seems t~ us that a noteworthy number of sisters are dissatisfied ~ith some of the prescriptions of their ~onstitutions and Customs. Some feel that their religio~s habit is archaic and th.at even as it has been modified it remains an impediment to attaining an easy rapport with modern men and women, especially non-Catholic men and women. To many sisters the rule that they go out only two by two is consonant neither with the much freer status of contemporary woman nor with the actual .needs of the apostolate. The many permissions re-quired in convent life seem to be out of harmony both with the greater independence of women in our day and with like situations among religious men. These causes ofim-patience and others like them are sharpened when the sister subject not only sees no adequate adaptation in her com-munity but no great inclination in the administratiOn to initiate steps to attain it. Tl~e second type of reason for disquiet is a discontent with the present allocations to prayer and work in active congre-gations. We do not mean that religious are uninterested in prayer; but we do mean that some of them feel that the amount of time to be given to prayer, and especially vocal prayer, needs to be cut down. Many would like to pare down community vocal prayers, and some would extend the paring process also to the DiVine Office and even perhaps to mental prayer. The final reasons for impatience cluster about the manner in which religious women are as a matter of fact carrying out the gospel command to preach the word to every crea-ture, including the billions of souls still outside the Mystical Body. While we are confident that many sisters decidedly desire to work with children and would feel both uncomfort-able and inept with adults, there are others who prefer to work with mature people and thus get to "every creature" more directly. We think, too, that a large number of reli-gious are unsatisfied with the indirect apostolate of teaching English and arithmetic, of keeping hospital records and supervising nurses, and rather wish to spend themselves in an immediate apostolate of supernatural contact with souls. These sisters feel that they and their companions could be used more effectively by leaving the indirect apostolate to laywomen and rather engaging themselves in reaching directly the vast populations of adult women still little touched by the Church. The impatience here is rooted in what appears to be an obsolete and ineffective use of the apostolic resources of our consecrated women. ÷ ÷ ÷ Updating Pu~lements VOLUME 23~ 1964 299 ÷ Thomas Duba~, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Causes of Fear At the opposite end of what we have called the reaction spectrum to apostolic aggiornamento lie varying degrees of fear regarding adaptations that have already occurred or, perhaps more frequently, regarding others that are merely being proposed and discussed. We may note in passing that sisters who entertain these fears are by no means unsym-pathetic as a group either to the theory or the fact of adapta-tion. They see the likely good but are also concerned about the likely harm. What are these fears? We would distinguish three main bases for apprehension concerning current developments in updating approaches to the apostolate of religious women. The first of these bases is the simple fact that many sisters are not capable either natively or by training background to work effectively with adult women. The apprehension arises from the suspicion that religious now working fruitfully with children would perhaps be transferred to occupations for which they are prepared neither by disposition nor by education. The second cause of updating anxiety centers on the alleged inability of women to live holy religious lives without the safeguards with which their, rules have traditionally surrounded them. Without taking a position regarding this fear, we can say at least this much that not all sisters are convinced of the advisability of rule modifications which open the way to considerably more and longer contacts with the world. One might object that even sisters have to take risks, but this would be met with the rejoinder, "Yes, but how many? When do we reach the point where contacts in the world will do more harm than good to religious and their work?" At least some sisters see a problem here. Perhaps the most frequently occurring and the deepest reason for disquiet lies in the area of mental prayer and the need for solitude. Despite verbal assurances to the contrary, both formation and inservice policy recommendations by the mounting attention they give to a tension and time packed apostolate seem to these religious to be making slow inroads on a calm prayer life with the indwelling Trinity. There seems to be a clash between new apostolic emphases and the age-old Catholic insistence just recently reiterated that the first duty for a religious, even for a religious belonging to an Institute of active life or of mixed life is then to give himself to God in contemplation and out of love for him. Service of the neighbor" comes second only, in so far as he needs it and as the re-ligious is in fact entrusted with it by his Superiors? 2 Archbishop Paul Philippe, The Ends of the Religious Life according to Saint Thomas Aquinas (Athens: Fraternity of the Blessed Virgin Mary, 1962), p. 72. Archbishop Philippe is secretary of the Sacred Congrega-tion of Religions. Some of our ~isters are wondering why, if contemplative love is primary in the religious state, the contemporary trend is toward reducing rather than increasing the time available for its peaceful practice. Or to ask an allied question, if as Plus XI declared, a hidden life of prayer, love, and suffering is a more fruitful apostolate for souls than active works are, why are we meeting our apostolic challenges with a greater emphasis on action than on contemplation? Such, then, are the causes of impatience on the one hand and fear on the other that we have found among American sisters. We propose now to suggest some general norms of procedure which according to Sacred Scripture and the teaching Church are sound guides for resolving in broad outline some of the questions we have raised. Guides for Apostolic Updating First principle: the Trinity is the source oaf apostolate. The re-ligious who steps into a classroom or a hospital ward does not enter her working domain as a private person, as. the former Mary Jones or even as the present Sister Mary Teresa. She enters as a member of a supernatural team, a religious community on which the Church has bestowed a mandate. She is a sent person, a commissioned person. Im-mediately she is sent by her major superior, intermediately by the Roman Pontiff and the local ordinary, ultimately by God Himself. Her religious superiors have the. authority to mission her because they have received a share in the pope's universal jurisdiction, and th~ pope has his authority from Christ Himself, and Christ has it from the Father. "As the Father has sent me, I also send you" ~Jn 20:21). The sister; therefore, engages in her apostolate as one sent by the very Trinity abiding in her heart through supernatural knowl-edge and love. It is highly fitting, then, that she live in close union with the abiding fountain of all apostolic fecundity. Our first principle for solving our apostolic problems is, consequently, that the indwelling Trinity is the starting point of external works. Second pdndple: the sisters' apostolic methods must meet con-temporary needs as they actually are. It is axiomatic in scholastic philosophy that whatever is received is received after the matter of the receiver. A man who tries to cut a sheet of steel as though he were dealing with paper is going to have his problems. A religious community which operates in the mid-twentieth century as though it were working in the mid-nineteenth is going to run into some dead-end streets. The Gospels themselves were written differently according to the manner of the receivers. Matthew wrote in one fashion for his fellow countrymen in Palestine, Mark and Luke tailored their approaches to Gentile converts, while John proposed to write a theologically orientated account against the Docetists and styled his Gospel accordingly. Religious ÷ ÷ ÷ opaating Puzzleracnts VOLUME 23, 1964 301 + ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~0~ communities surely cannot afford to do less in meeting contemporary needs in a contemporary manner. The Holy See itself has said so much in the last two decades about the need for adaptation in the religious life that for us to say more would be to labor the point. Hence, our second prin-ciple is patent: however we are to meet updating tensions, our solutions will have to face and answer real problems as they now exist. Thirdprinciple." prayer, love, and suffering are the most Jruitful apostolate. This third guide to unraveling unrest and ap-prehension in adapting to modern needs is taken bodily from the teaching of Pope Pius XI. Speaking on the occasion of the canonization of a religious whose community neither teaches nor nurses, the Discaleed Carmelite nuns, tl-ie Holy Father remarked: "These are the most pure an~l the most lofty souls in the Church, who by suffering, loving and praying in a hidden apostolate hold the first place in bene-fiting all men.''3 Approving the Carthusian statutes a decade earlier in 1924, the same pontiffhad said perhaps even more strikingly that it is "easy to understand how they who assiduously fulfil the duty of prayer and penance contribute much more to the increase of the Church and the welfare of mankind than those who labor in tilling the .Master's field.''4 Several centuries earlier St. John of the Cross had taught the same truth in his own limpid manner: "A very little of this pure love is more precious in the eyes of God and the soul, and of greater profit to the Church, even though the soul appear to be doing nothing, than are all. these works t0gether,''~ Now if we pay this teaching more than lip service, we must in the actual ordering of the contemplative and work-ing aspects of active religious congregations recognize the primacy of the former not only in the sanctification of the individual religious but even in the sanctification ~ the souls . committed to her care. We have got to work, to be sure, and work hard. Woe to us if we do not preach the Gospel. But all the same, if praying, loving, and suffering are the most fruitful apostolate in the Church, we religious have got to be before all else contemplative sufferers or suffering con-templatives. Hence, to aim at updating constitutions, rules, and horaria on any other basis is simply to miss the point. If getting our religious women to mix more with the world is going to damage their love and prayer, the mixing must yield, not the love and prayer. If newly undertaken activi-ties are going to so wear a sister out t

Issue 6.2 of the Review for Religious, 1947. ; ¯ Revi ew for Religious MARCH 15, 194Y Gifts to Reficjious--I ¯ ¯ ¯ ~. . Adam C. Ellis The Rosary and th~ Will of God . T. N. ~Jorge.se. Effects of Holy Communion on the Body c.A. Herb~st Difficulties in Meditation--Ii . G. Augustine Ellard Subjective Sin . . . Gerald Kelly Communicatioris Book Reviews Questions Answered Decisions of the Holy See VOLU~E VI ' ~ NUMBER '2 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS VOLUME VI MARCH, 1947 NUMBER 2 ' "¢ ' CONTENTS GIFTS TO RELIGIO.US--I. THE SIMPLE VOW OF POVERTY-- Adam C. Ellis, S.J . , 65 DECISIONS OF THE ~tOLYSEE' . 80 THE ROSARY AND THE WILL OF GOD--T. N. Jorgensen, S.J. 81 PAMPHLETS AND BOOKLETS . 88" THE EFFECTS OF HOLY COMMUNION ON THE BODY-- C. A, He_rbst, S.J . ; . 89 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . ' . 9~7 ¯ DIFFICULTIES IN MEDITATION---II~. Augustine Ellard, S.J . 98 ~ COMMUNICATIONS . 10 9 SUBJECTIVE SIN~erald Kelly, S.J . 114 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS 8. Authority to Change Rule or Custom and to Refuse Visiting Per-missions . , 1,20 9. Workingmen's Indult Applied to Lay Brothers . 121 10. Tipping Pullman and Dining Car Attendants . ¯ ~12i BOOK REVIEWS~ Speaking of Angels; Send Forth Thy Light; Christianity; The Fair Flower of Eden; Our Lady of Sorrows; Ursuline Method of Education 12Y BOOK NOTICES . 127 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, March, .1947. Vol. VI, No. 2. Published bi-monthly: January, March, May, July, September, and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's COllege, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class mat[er January 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.J., G. Augustine Ellard, S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.J. Editorial Secretary: Alfred F. Schneider, S.J. Copyright, 1947, by Adam C. Ellis. Permission is hereby granted for quotations of reasonable length, provided due~ credit be given this review and the author. \ Subscription price: 2 dollars a year. Printed in U. S. A. Before writing to us, please consult notice on inside back cover. if s' toReligious Ad~im C. Ellis I. The Simple Vow of Poverfy [EDITORS' NOTE: Gifts to religious have/~presented rfiany problems froth to supe-riors and t,,o, subjects, as is evident from the numerous questions we have-received. Hence it was tho~ight desirable to give our readers a statement of sound practical principles ~,hich will help both superiors and subjects to solve such problems as they arise. Before establishing practical p~inciples it will be useful if not necessary0 to havea clear understanding of the obligations which are binding upon religious when t, here is question of the acceptance and~use of gifts. Articles. therefore_, will be published on t~he following ,sabjects: I. The~simple vow of poverty: II. Com.- moil life and peculium: III. Practical principles regarding' gifts to religious. ] Distinction obet~een the ,Simplq and the "Solemn Vow of Poverty. IN GENERAL, the difference between a s61emn vow and a simple vow is one which arises entirely from the will 6f the Church; ~for there is nothing intrinsic in the notion of a vow to warrant such a distinction. Two facts ~stablished by th, e la~of the ffhurch explain thisdistinction as it now exists: (1) ,A religious who has-taken a solemn vow 6t: poverty loses:his-right to, own property, and hence cannot acquire property after he:: has, taken, the solemn, vow; whereas,~he religious who has t~i'ken a simple vow of pov-erty retains hih right to the ownership o,f propetty already possessed at the time of his.profession, as well as the right to acquire more personal property ~ifter profession, (c: 580; ~,§~1). (2) The solemn vow of poverty makes-all contrary" acts invalid, whereas the simple vow of poverty general1)" makes cdntrary acts illicit but not invalid (c. 5 .79.). A religious who h~s taken a solemfl vow of poverty is no 19nger c~pable of acquiring anything for himself; hence everything that comes to him even by way of persor~al gift he acquires for his o~der (canon 582). Hence there will be 65 ADAM C. ELIolS Review for Religious no problem aris~ing from the vow in regard to per~sonai gifts to~' the: rellglous wlt~ a solemn vow 0f poverty. They are simply turned ~ver to his order. In this exp6sitign, there-for~, we shall confine ourselves to the simpl~ vow. of poo-ertti. The Simple Vow of Povertti ~, ,Although it is true, a~ stated above, that a rtligious kvho has taken a simple vow of poverty retains' his right toown-erihii~ of propdrty possess.e,d at.the time, and also retains the capacity tO acquire more pe, rsonal property,, still he restrict~ed in the use and disposition o'~fsuch pi0pe~rtyl~he vb~2 he has taken, as well as by the laws of the Church enacted to_ safeguard°thiS ;cow.° .Both the vow.itself and the laws of the. Church made to'safeguard it must be considered ih order to have a fomplete, picture of the o~imple vo~ of. poverty. Definition.of thb Simple Vow (~ne hundred years ago Popd Pius IX defined the obliga-tion involved in the simple ,vow of poverty' of religious'as follows: "'The vow of povertg which- the Sisters,take con- ~ists in this that the~ are deprived of the right;to freelti~ d~s'- pose of antithing'~" (Apostolic Letter; Quam ~maxima, No-vember 13,, 18~y') ~., ~his ~definition has.bedn" retained and. consistently adhered to by t~e S. Congregation in approving" cons'titutions"shbmi__tted to the Holy See. °Th~S in the N6rmae of 1901 undei art: 1i3, ,we read: "'Bti the'simple vow of pover~ti th~ "Sisters renounce the right tO' tawfutlti dispose of anti t, emporal thing without th~ ~.permissibh of the lawful s--uperioL'; We, shall come'back to a study of the definition of the simple vow of pove.r~y after~, we have con-sidered ,the legislation o.f the Church on th.e ,s~ubjeq,t, since-such legislation throws.much light on the m.e.a__ning of ~this 66 March, 1947' ~ THE SIMPLE Vow oF POVERTY ~,:~ O?igin of Congreg.ations with Simple, Vbws~ ~ Fob many c~nturies the Church considered solemn Vows .as a requisite for the religious life., "Time an~ again¯ the Popes insisted that all thffse p~rsgns who ~with the permis-sion of, the local ~rd~nary ~had joined togetherto live~a life in common with simple vows must either, take solemn vows ~nd Observe p~apal effclosure or cease to receive n6vice~, and t~us die but. Howe~er; frffm the sixteenth to the eighteenth centuries certai~n popes~appyoved a number of,institutes of religio~ men ~who h~d only simple vows. The obligations arising from these vows were determined by private legisla~ tion fg~r each particula~ institute~ ~ ~ .- ".During'~ the- eighteenth century, ,the Popes. gradually began to tolerate (in, the technical se'nse), a~d then finally approoe~congregations of~religious, wo~en with simple vo~s. ~hese simple vows also-were, regul~ted~.by private legislayion for each respecfige institute. The~e. was~ no. gen-eral: legislation: for the simple vo~ 'o~ povert~ ~ that time. The only legislation of a papal character, that gpplied, to the simple vow of poverty was contained in an occasional rescript given to one or.a~0th~r of t~e approve~ institfites. ,. ~Legf~(~tiOn Regafdmg the Simple Vo~ . On March 19, 1857, by the encyclical, letter Ne~inem latet of the recently gstablisbed S. Congregation regarding the State of Regulars, Pius IX pr¢scribed that in all orders of men all novices should take simple vows for a period of at least three years, before being admitted ,tOsolemfi vows, A year-later the same" S. Congregation issued~ declaration regarding these simple vo~s. Though given~ origiffally to the Master General 6f the Order of Pr~acher~ in answerto a number of questions proposed, this declaration, dated June 12, 1858, was soon extended to other religious orders on request and becam~ the established policy of the Holy See 67 ADAM C. ELLIS. Review [o~ Religious reg~irding simple vows taken as a preparation for the solemn. vows. The.part of the text pertinent to thd. simple.vow of poverty runs ~s follows: Document I IX. (l)! The professed of ~simple Vows may retain the bate ownership (dom, inium radicale) as it is called, of their_property, but the administration, spqnding ofincome, and use of their property is absolutely_forbidden to them. (2) Hence, before tl~e profession Of their .simple vows, they.anust, for the entire time during.which they Will be bound by siinple vows, cede the-administration, the usufruct, and use to whomsoever' they please, even to their order,, should they freely choose to do so . The Council of Trent had required that a novice was. to give away all Bis property before taking solemn vows. This was to be done only within tw~ months of the solemn profession. With the~introdt~ction of .simple vows as a preparation.for~olemn vows, the question arose as to when _,this ~enunciation was'to be made. The S. Congre.gation ~egardinl~ the State "of Regulars answere~l the .question on August 1, 1862, as follows: Document II In an audlence hdd August 1, 1862, His Holiness stated and determined by his apostolic authority that the renunciation referred to in chapter" 1-6, session 25 of the Council of Trent, should take place on the part of the ~rofess~d of simple vows within two m6nths, ~receding the profession of'solemn vows, all thin'gs to the contrary notwithstanding. The above formulae applied onlyto orders ot: then. A formula similar to Document I above was introduced into ~the constitutions of congregations of both men and' womem with simp(e vows only: and Since Msgr. Andrew Bizzarri (later Cardinal) was secretary of,the .Congregation" at the~ time and was considered to be the author of this particular legislation, it ~ame to be known as.the/:orroula~Bizzarriana. Htali(s as well as divisional numbers used in these documents are the author's. 68 March,J94.7 ~ , THE SIMPLE VOW OF POVERTY We'shall hereafter call it "Bizzarri's formulary." Here is a g~pical copy "of its text, taken from a set oOcof n;s 'tl t"u t'lons appr6ved by~ t~e SI ,Congregation of Bishops and Regular~ 6n3uly 12, 1861: -. " " ~ Docum;nt III, ,Animadversions: N. 8. Regarding the vow of p0v~rty the fol~ lowing &sposltmn has been prescribed by the Holy See .for some.of these institutes- (of simple vows) : . .(1) The professed may retain the.bare ownership, as ~t ~s called: of their .p'rdp'ert~; but~ the~ administration!~ spending of~ income, and i~se'~of 4hei~ ~prop~ert~ , i~,~,absolutelg forbidden-to them as long as.they rehaaifi in,the institute. (2) Hefi~e, ~before profession they must cede. even privately, the administration, and use to whomsoever they please, even~to their own institute should they. freely choose to do so.~ (3) This cession, however,, will no longer have'any force in case they leave the institute. (4) A condition may~ be attached stating that th'ecessioh.is revocableat.any time even though.they per-severe in the institute:; but as long as :they,h're bound by vows the professed~0may not in.conscience u.~e .this "right of revocation without the permission of the Holy See. (5) They may, however,~dispo.se of their ownership eithey by way of last will and testament, qr, with .the superi.gr gen.eral's~ permission, b~ absolute gift ,(pdr actus inter uiuos~). (6) Nor are they forbidden to~ place s.uch acts as are pre-scribed by the law, but with the p.e.rmission of the same ~uperior general. , Bizzart:i's for,rnulary c~fftinued to be used ~n individual se~s ofconst~tutmns apprbved by the S. Co.ngregation of ¯ Bishops and ~eg~il~rs from 1860 onwards. On December 30, 1882, .the S. Congregation presCribed'an-officml formula containing, thd same prgvisions in almost the same words, with a fev~ rn'odifications and some additions, to'be inserted henceforth in all constitul~ions to be approv, ed by. it. ,Here ~sthe text of-this, official formula: Docdment IV The~foll0wing rules concerning the simple vow of pov~rty'have been adopted b~' the S. Congregation of Bishops and Regulars, and it ,is customary to prescribe that they be inserted in constitutions WhiCh 69 Reuieto~6r Reti~idds ~ , i (~1) Th~.p'~ofesse~d~may, ~etain tl~e;bare own~rship,oas,it is~called, pf. their .pr0peity ;~butlthe.~ administration~ ~sp.endin'9 of ~'~com~,-~d use of tbdw prope?tg ~s absolutelg [orbrdden to~,tbem. ~ (2) before profession they must cede~ even "privately, ~h~ ad~in~t~ti~ usufruct, and use to whomsoege~ .they please, even to their own insti- ~u~e,.s~ould t~ey fr~dy~ch~pse to dq~so. '~(~ A,qgngi£~on ~gY be attached to this~cession stating that it is'revocable, at aKy time: but the professed may not in conscience use this rig~t~refv,ocation ~ ~ithout ~-~ ~s~ (4,~),,~,~he same ~disvo~ition is to be, made. of~any- goods,~hich~ may. come ~to.the~profess~d, after~theix~prQfessio~,~*under,tifie~o~ inheritances. ~ (5) ~:The~ may~. hbw~v~r,~dispbse 6f theii owners~ip,.either,.by Wa~.of last will and~test~ment, with~the~permission'~of the superior-ok'the superiore~ ,general, b#. b~ Way of absolute,gift (~c actus dioos). In,the latter casd the cession of ad~inistration:~ihfruct, and ase's~all cease, unlessthey wish these latter'to remain nnChanged for a definiidy stated time i~spite of:th~cession .of ownership: ,- "" ~'(6)? They ~re not forbidden to place such acts as ard~prescribed b~-the~law,, bu~ they 'mu~t first have~ the" permission of the-S6#erior or supeiioresL . ~ -~. ,.~ (7) Wha~ever~hep ~r6fess"e"d "r e" h"g~ous have acquired b~ their'own ,ndustry, or for t5ear socaetyithey must not'ascribe or reserve'to~them-selves,~ but alFsuch things must*be added to the~commumty funds for the common benefit of the society. ~ ~ ~ " By, is constitutiqn,, onditae a Cfiristo, dated De&m ~'~*~,X~;~ '~ i~ k~r~ ~",;~ ,. : ~ii *,~.~ ,~ ~.~ ~ ~,~ - per ~,~Lyov, t=ope ~eo,,A~t~ puDnc~y acgnow~geO congre-gations ~tn s~m~le vows to ~ a part ot t~e economy -th s consmutxon he defined the &fference between d ocesan anO Rapalt~ approved congregatxons and la~O down~ general regulations tot ~ne goyernment ot both. Ires constitution ~s,~nOeea t~e Magng ~arta otrel~g~ous congre~tx0ns s~mple vows. ~ Leo s~legxslatton gave a new impulse to ,man:g &ocesan congregatibn~g~ to~ seek, .papal ~ approval.~, Meanwhile the S+tCong, regation ofl~ishops and ,,Regul~rs,~: 70 March, !,9~7 THE SIMPLE VOW OF POVERT': experience in'dealing with these congregations had provided much of the material for the Cor~clitae a Christo, drew up for itself, a new-set of rulesto be~follow~d henceforth in the . . approyal of institutes with simple vovc~,as well as in the approval of the constitutions of such institutes. These Norrnae,.as they were called, did not have ~the force of law, since they~remained a private guide for the use of the S. Con-gregation and .were never published (it w~is~forbidd~'n¯ to ~reprint th~in). However, their became t~ liv'iiag mind of .the C14urcfi with regard to cor~gregatiofis o~ religious with simple vows, and much of their content was embodied in the Code of Canon Law. It will'be useful for our present sttidy, therefore, to give those articles of-the Norrnae ,of 3une 28, 1901, which dealt with the matter of~ the. simple vow, of poverty. " Docur~ent V Nbrms which the S. Congregation of~Bishops and 'Regulars is accustomed to follow-in ~approving new institutes with simpl~ vowsl 113. By the simple vow of poverty the Sisters~ renounce the right to dispose licitly of anything having a temporal value, except with the permission of~the legitimate superiorS. t.14. The Sisters are forbidden to retain the personal ad~ninis-tration of any of their personal goods. 1 15. Therefore, before the first profession of vows. they must dispose of the use °~nd '~sufruct of their income, or of the fruits ot~" their goods in the manner which pleases them, even infavo~ of their _ institute, if they~ freely choose to do so. They must also, before their first vows, transfer the administration of their goods to any person or persons the~y~°cho'ose; and, if they freely choose, even to their own institute, provided the.latter is informed and accepts the trust. °- 116. This cession of administration, use, and usufruct will cease to h~ve for~e in case the religious leaves the institute: nay more, a condition may be placed, stating that it is revocable at any time. 117. Such_a revocation, however, as well as. any chang~ in the acts of cession, miay not be made lawfully ~luring [the time they are '~Fhough Sisters are specifically mentioned, the Norraae were intended to be applied to ,congregations of religious men also unless the contrary was stated. 71 ADAM C. ELLIS' boi~nd by~] their vows, except with the permission of the superior general. ~ 118. The dispo~sition of the use andusufruct and the designation of the admlnistrator mentioned above may be.made either by pub!ic or by private act. 119. The p'rbf~ssed retain the bare owner'sh!p (dorai'nia~ radica[e) of'-their goods, and t1~y are forbidden to abdicate .their ownership~ by an .absolute. gift (per actas~inter uivos) before their profession~ of perpetual vows. 12"0. It is redommended (cor~uer~it) that all freely dispose of all their good~, pre~ent and future, by last will and testament,lbefbre taking their first vows. ° ' 12 I. Sisters professed of perpetual Vows nded the ~permi~sion of the Holy See in order to give away the ownership~of all their goods~ 122. Professed Sisters need the permission of theoHoly-See'both to make or to change their Will: but ~ truly urgent cases the permis-sion of the~ ordinary or bf the superior general will suffice, or even that of the local superior if it cannot .be done otherwise. 123. The Sisters are not forbidden to place acts of ownership which may be requiied by law: but t~ey must first.oStain permission of the.superior general or, in cases of urgency~ of the. local superior. 124; Regarding goods which shall, com~ to theSisters by any legitimate tide after they have taken their vows, they must or may,. respe.ctively, dis1~oie of them according to the norms given above con-cerning the goods they had before first profession. ¯ Thus far we have seen the devel0prnei~t of legisbition regardir~g'the s!mple, vbw of poverty for orders of .religious rnen and foi congregations of both men andw0rnen. During all.'~his time nuns in tl~e strict sense c6ntinued to take solemn vows. irnrnediately-after the one year of novitiate .prescribed b~r the Council of Tten~. ,By the decree Perpens.is,, dated May~3, 1902, and issued in the narne of Pope Pius.~X by-the S. Congregation of Bishops and Regulars, all novices in orders of religi6us women were obliged to take Simple vows for at least three years in preparation for the solemn vows -later on. The detailed legislation regarding the s~mple vow. of poverty" repeated almdst literally. ~_sirnilar provis~ioh~ 72 March, 194Z THE SIMPLE VOW~OF POVERTY which had been made for-orders of religious men in 1858 (see above). Here is the pertinent text bf the Perpensis: ~ Document VI N. 1 1. (1) The Sisters professed of .simple vows retain the bare --ownership (.dominium radicale) of all their goods, (,2) arid they cannot definitively dispose of it except withih two months immedi-ately preceding their solemn profession, ,according to the Sacred Council of Trent. . . (3) The administration, spending of income, and rise of their. goods is absolutely forbidden to them." (4) Hence before the pro-fession of simple vows, they must, for the time during which they will be bound by simp.le vows, cede the administration, usufruct, and use to whomsoever they please, even to their own order or monastery, provid.ed t~a~t.~hey freely consider this opportune, and prov!ded that the order or monastery has no objections. (5) If, during the period of sire, ple vows, other goods come to them by legitimate title, they acquire the oVcnership of them; but they must transfer the administration, usufruct, and us+ as above,as soon as possibIq; ol~serving also the law_,~0f not renouncing their ownership ,until within two months before their ~ole'mn profession. Such v~as th~ development-of legislation.and practice , on the part of the Holy See with regard to the simple vow. of poverty up ,.to the promulgation of the Code of Canon Law.on May 27," 1917.~ While adop~ing,th~ terse form introduced b~r the Normae of 1901, the Code re_rained sub-stantial. l~i thebld 1.egislation as di~velope~ in the documents previously qdoted (I, II, III, IV" and VI)', wl~ich, witl~ the exception of Bizzarr~'s formulary (III) are listed among l~he sources of the canons on.poverty. - . After the i~ublication of the Code, all religious institutes were obliged to revise their rules .and constitutions so as to b~ing them into conformity with the Code. Contrary privileges granted by the Holy See were safeguarded.by canon 4 and could be retained unless explicitly revoked by some canon of the Code. All other rules and particular constitu.tions of individual religious institutes which were ~)AM C. ELLIS cont*rary to the:canons of the Code were~ abrogated (cahon 489) " -, " ~ " , ' Since most'constitutions of:m~odern congregations now contain ~the pr~escripti6ns of the Code without chan, ge !n the matter.of the simple vow of poyerty, we think it helpful to give the-tex-t of the'canons involuted in our stui:ly_before going on t6 comment UlSOn"them: Canon 568. If, during the novitiate,, the novice in any ~vay whate'v.er renounces his benefices or his property or encumbers them, such a renti~ciation or encumbrance is not only illicit but also null and void. " Can0fi 56~, § 1. Before the profess!on o.f si,rnple vows,., wrieil~e; temporary or perpetu,,al, i~he novice '~must cede, for the ~rhole° period during whl~h he will be bound by simple vows', "~he ~dm~nistration of ¯ his property to whomsoever, he wishes, and dispos~ of its use an~t usdfruct, except the,constitutions determine otherwise. . § 2. If.the nox;ice, because he possessed no property, omil~ted to m~ake this cession, and if ~s~bsequently propertycome into his posses-sion, or if, after making the provision, he becomes finder whatever title the .possessor of other property, he must make provision~ according to the regula.tions ~f § 1, for the newiy acq~iired pibperty, even if he hhs already made ~imple piof~ssion. § 3.~ In every religious Congregation the novice, before ma.king profession of,~tempprary, vows, shall freely~'di~pose by "will of all the property he actually' possesses or. may subseque.ntly,' possess . ~Canon~ 5~.9.,. -Simple~ pr~p~fession, ~heth,er t.empo~ary~or pe~ petual, rendeis acts contrar2y, t? the vows illicit; but not invalid, unless it°be Otherwise formally expressed; while s61(mff professton rehd~is Such acts ev~a invalid, if they can be nullified. Canon 580, § i. All those who have inade professio~i-of simp1~ yows, whether i~erpe~ual or temporary, except the constifutions declare otherwise, retain the proprietorship of their property and~the capadty to acquire other property, while safegu.arding the presc.rip-tions o~ canon 569. . § 2. Bul~ whatever "the religious acquires by his o~r~ indhstry or in respect 6f his:'Inst!tute, .~elongs to the Institute. § 3. AS r~gards :the cession or disp0'siti0n of pr6pdrty trea~ed Of in canon 569, § -2, the professed religious can modif¢ t.he"arran~e- March; 1947 THE SIMPLE VOW OF POVERTY ment,, nbt ho~wev~ei of his own free cho_'ice.except, the; constitutions ~ allow it, but with ~t.he p~ermission of the Superior-General or, in the 0 cause.of nu~s, Of the lo,cal ordinary, as well'as with that 0i~ the R~ular S~perior if them ~o "n'a;s~t_e r"y be s: u~B" J"e 'c't .t.o. .R.e.gulars; the modification, however, must not be ~ade, at least for a'n0tabl~ pa~[-of" the ~rop? drty, in favgr of the Institute; :in the~,case of withdrawal from~ the Institute, this cession and dispositidn ceases, to have effect. ~. ,Canon 58~. Those who have made profession of ~imple vows in.any religious ~ongregation: 1° May. not abdicate. ,gratuitously the dominion-~ver their propert~ by a voluntary deed of conveyance (~er ~tum inter oibos).: ~ *Eet us now analyze:the~on~e~ts coataified in these canons iffthe light off,past legislation given imour pregious db~uhefit~, putting them in logicaborder,, with ,a word" of cOmment/upon ea~h.,, ~. -- ~- . '-., . " " The Si~pl~ Vdw,of Pove?ly,:i6 P?acti'ce , 1. A~ nootce ts ~orbtdden to give away ~hts property during the~ time o~ nootttate,~under the pare of nulhty (eanp~ 568). This is the legislatioh of Trent forno#ices ~n,an order. Amcle 8# of thg ~ormae of 190,1~d~a~proved " o~ 4onat~on~ made, to ~ir 1~)~stitu~e Con~egdti~n.'; N0~h~fi~ was~sald ab~ug d~nhfi~ns toga thi~ - ~af~y~duriEg t~e.ti,me q~nov~tiate. ~N0r wa~ a d~gafion- ~de~to the. institute in~ii~ ._ " . :~ ~ 2~ Shortt~ before. Oronoenc~ng his grst~.simpld a noqice mus~ appoint an.;administrato~,:to take ,care ~of his p)rsonal~p~opert.y;during the, entire time during.which -:will be bound by simple vows ~canon~ 569, ~ ~&;_ Docu~ ments:.I, 2; HI, 2;~Ig, 2; V, Normae, art. 115; VI; 4). "" In a congregation, this time will be for the lifetime of the religious; in an order, it will be for the time preceding sol-emn. profession., Strictly speaking; .the persopal Xd~inis-trati0n of his own property by a religious is not contrary to his few ofp0verty as defined b~ Pius IX b~cause it is not 75 ADAM C. ELLIS~ ~ " Revieto FOr Religious a disposa~l of proper.ty., Still, from t858 to the~ Codq inclusive, such administration has been forbidden by'the positive law of the Church to 'all religious'~with simple vows. ~ Hence, no superior can gi~e a s~ubJect permission to "administer his own-private property after he has made his . first profession of vows. Only the Holy See can do so.- 3. Before takin9 hi's [~rst vows, a novice must gioe. away, to whomsoever he pleases, the use and incomd of his personal property (canon 569, § 1; Doc'um~ents: I, 2; .III., 2; IV, 2; V, Normae, a~t. 115~; VI, 4). This dispositionl once made, holds good for the entire time that he will be bound by simple vows, and he may not change it without the permission of the superior general (canon. 580, § 3). Legislation prior to the Code required the' permissibn of the Holy S.ee (Documents: Iii, 4; IV, 3; V, Normae, art. 117). With regard to this disposi~:ion" of the use and income of his property', canon 569, § 1 makes allowances for contrary provisions Of the' constitutions. Whu'sln some older congregations 6f men, approved before 1860, the reli-gious must give~ the use and.ir~come of his property .to ~i~ela-tires ffho ~ire within-the foiirth ~degree of kir~slhip; or in 0thers~ he must g~ive, a phr~ of the iricbme to his institute, the r~ai~der to his relatives!' or aga~in in other~ tl~ ~onstitU-tions oblige the novice to give all his income to pious ~and charitable causes exclusive of his relatives and of ~his ~own institute. ~.Suc.h. con~rary provisions Will hafdly~'be found in congiegations whose constitutions ha~e been ,~approved" by the Holy See'since 1860. 4. A r~ligious with a simple°v~w of poueriy may not use 6r~ "spend the income of his property for l~imsetf (Docu-. ments:.I,.1; III, 1'; IV, 1; VI, 3). Canon 569 does,,not state this negative precept, explicitly, l~ut ~its positive precept obliging the religious with simple vows-to give away the use and usufrtict bf l~s personal property indicates quite 76 ~March, 1947 THE SIMPLE VOW OF POVERTY clearly that he may not use it himself,;nor,~p_end~h_i_s oin.come On himself.,- Thi~s~is confirmed, in the writer:s judgment, by the fact that the documents, referred to all state this explic-itly, and are listed as sources of canon 569 in the Code. 5. The same provisions regarding the administration, use; and income are tom be applied to any other persona1 property whiCh may come toga religious at:ter he has made prot:ession oh simple vows (canon 569, ,§ 2: Documents: IV,'4; V, Normae, art., !24; VI,~5). 6. Mag a religious give awag his personal propertg? In answering this que.stion we must distinguish h~tween the religious wit_h~simple vowsdn an order,~ and a ~religious with" ~imple vows in a "cong, regation.: ~ (a) In an order, the religious with simple vows is abso!utely forbidden_to give awa~:y .his property ,under pain of'invalidity. However, since h.e will lose his right to"o.wn-ership v~hen he takes his solemn~ vows, he is qbliged by.law to ' freely . give ~ all his property to whomsoever,he wishes wi~thin si}ty day_s preceding his s-ol,emn profession. This renun~'at_ion;as it is_ technically.called,., is subject~ to the c.on-dition that his solemn profession will follow (canon-581, § 1 ;. Documents'.' II; VI, 5). (b) In a congregqtion~,.~every religious, whether with temporary or perpetual vows, is forbidden to give away his property during his lifetime. (c. 583, 1 °); . Should h4 do So, howgver, the act would be valid but unlawfu!'(c. 57,9). In this m.atter the Code,.is stricter,than, .the preceding legisla5 tion, which,is not referred to in the sources of canon 583, 1 °. Hence it seems reasonable to conclude that this canon is to be interpreted at its face value, and not in the light of preceding legislation. Let us .consider the problem in detail. As we have seen, up to 1860 there were no uniform~ regulations regarding the simple:vow of poverty in a con- 77 ADAM~ C. ELLIS Review forReligiov.s greg~tion[ Bizzarri's formulafry~of 18 61.i:as~well ~is ',the~ru, les ~Of th~ S. ~dng~e~afion sf Bishops and ~Reghlam~-of~q*8 8 (s~D0cUme~ts:~I~II, 5~; IV~ 5),. gave t~e r~ligious with a simple ~vow,~-of, poverty the choic~.of-~exther kee~ing ~his pr6per~g~'an~d making.a last~ wilt~.ahd testament~ to 'determine Who~was t~ inherit Jrafter his death, or ih either':, case witb;the,permiss~on~ of the-~supe~ior general~ of 1901 ~hmtted this right in two ~hys: Art. 119 forbade the religious~ith temporarg ~ows ~to -give .away ~ang~'of ,his propertyo;~., art. 1~ L forbad~ ,the' reli-gioUs wit~ p~rp~tual :vows to give away all ?~is property witho~t, t~e~ per~issi0n of the~ Holy ,See: "~So~e congrega-tions had the following ~rticle. ifl their donsti[utions - ~pproVed by~ the H01y See: ~ "~he~permissiofi~o~ the Hol~. S~e is-required in 6fder that~ a~ r~ligious ~ith~p~pet~al vows pf6perty;~'.:but the ~wntten permass~on of the superior gen-eral su~ces to give away a'part of it." This latter pro~ision,~ based on art.121~ ~f the~Normd~, was interpreted t6 mean tha~ a religious ~wi'thV~imolg p~- petuat vows .coul& g~ve away a~ part~ of his proffe~ty,~i~h the permission of the superior general, ,prowded'~t was not ~'~Otabte~ p~a?t, that As, ~not~ble in pro~bftiO~, tb~th(~entire . of the'r~ligi6u~ ence m th~s.ma~ter betw(en, t~m~brary and perpetual vows. Wiih)o~t,fi{stinghishing.between', ffo~de c~n~nists of.rank a~d~:iMobrtance' who'b01d-that a .rehgxous,,w~tH a 7,8 TIlE SIMPLE VOW OF POVERTY perpetual. ~imple, vbw ~of poverty may still,follow-the pro; vision of the Norraae. In other words~ th'ese' ~iuthbrs ~hold that~ with the p~rniission ofothe .stiperior general, ,the~reli-giousmay give away' even. a large sum, provided this sum is. no't a: notable parffof his. entire patrimony. -They~ agree more or/less ~that~anything ~ore ~than a [ifth~ of ~:the who!e~ patrimong would be .such~ a notable-part; .and 'they-.point out,,, that shah a:gift could be.made onlg once. It' is the present'~writer'.s firm con:viction that this liberal 61~ihion concerning Jarge~ gifts 'does n~ot ,sqtiare ~ith~ the~ wbrds ~ off'the' Code, and.that."the Code designedly. :dhanged the Normaefin thi~ matter: I.n, l~is.op~nion,~.therefore,:e~ren the~superior general~-can, not ~give--permissi0n .f0r sfl~h, large gifts, ounle.s~s the' coffstitutions,~,approved ~ by~,~th~, Holy~ ~ See aft~ero,she,.Code stil,1 contain a clause to!that effect. _~ v . _ ~- The~case'Js"tlui~e~diffe~ent ~ith~,regard to very~small gifts:. Almost, alkafithorsallow the applicati6n~of~the prin- ~ciple, "'parum pro', nibilo~reputa.tur;"" _to~ small~'~donadons fr9m their patrimony made .even b~ novices, and a fortiori by professed religious.~, For example, a religious would be allowed to use;a;part ~f, fi~s own.money'.to l~av, e_some Masses said. fpr ~ deceased pare.nt, relative, or benefactor, or .to. con-t. ribute a small alms to some;.,~worthy cause inowhich he is interested. It. should be, noted that the "smallness',' in, this chse is absolute, ,and is not to be estimated'~with teferenee .to the ~en tird'patrimony; 'also, "that such' ~mfill gifts" are: n'o. t, to be freqfient, lest the~r.gr&duaUy amount tba large S,~um and ~hus Ynake a~ockery of, the~v~ery" principle on ~hich t,hey are,'allowed, ',,'a~ little bit_ may be, considered as nothing.',' Conclusion Such is ~the' doctrine reg'ardihg the simi~le ~vow of~,pOv-erty which hadst be k~,t in iriifid in ~ulra t~er' d-~scuss~on o~fi "gi'f~s to religious." We may~call attention l~ere to the 79 DECISIONS .OF THE HOLY, SEE ".main points d~duced from this survey which will have spe~ cial application later:~ -, 1. :The personal administration of his property by~'.a _religious' is ~r~ot forbidden by the simple vow of poverty, since administration does not come under the term "to dis- "pose" which is used. in the definition~of Plus IX; but such administration is forbidden by pos*itive law. 2. A religious may not spend the inco~ne of his property on'. himself,-nor_mayohe use his .personal property. As far as the vow of poverty alone is ~c0ncerned, either could be done with the permission of the superior. But positive legis-lation reserves such a permissior~ to the Holy See. " 3. For the rest, a religious with a simple vow ofpove~rty. may not dispose qf anything whatsoever haying a mone-tary value (whether it be his personal property; or th.at of the community, or that of any third party) without the permission of his superior. These permissions willbe regu-lated by~ the constitutions of each institute. DecisiOns o{ Holy See Current n~ws reports fr6m VatiCan City announce 'the dates for solemn canonizations'and"beatificati6ns: April 13: Beatification of Venerable Contardo Ferrini, I~alian jurist 9~d university professor at Modena and Messina, who qied' in 1'90.3. April 27: Beatification of Venerable. Maria Goretti of Anzio, who in 1902 at ihe age of twelve died a ma[tyr's death in defense of her Vir-ginity. May 4Z Beatificatibn of Venerable Marie Therese :(Alexia Le Clerc); f0Undress of th'e C~nonesses of St. Augustine of the Congre-gation df Our Lady. May ~5:°Canonization of Blessed Nicholas 0f Flue, hermit and national hero of Switzerland. duns 22: Canffniza-ti0n of Blessed 3oseph Cafasso, onetime rector of the papal University of ,Turin; of Blessed aohn de Britto, Portuguese 3esuit and martyr; of. Blessed~Bern~rd~ Realin0, Italian 3esuit and home missionary. July 6: Canomzat~on of Blessed Joanne Ehzabeth B~ch~er des' Ages, (Continued on p. 128) 80 /he i<~.sar~y; ano OD became.~.ma, n, not.,.~ .,0~lyl.t~. ._ redaeenmd, tuos ,.t.e ,a ~c h.,.u .s His Ipvable.ness,~but alsq,~o be an. ~exampl.e ~nd. :for us ~on our 'peri,l.ous way.to heaven. Spiritua.1 writers agre¢~ tha.5 the m~ost, i~mp0rtan~ !~sson. His. iif,eo us,, the most, impor,t~nt girt~e !~n .our, life as .well as in His,.is .t~at~ of~liumb, le submi_.s~sion to .the will of.the Father. ~: God's.inLention in creatin~g ,,us is. ~hat .we may, i become members of,His 0wn.~,~awily, Jivi~g eterna!iy:~ith,;Him~.:ion , l~e~iven, a~ .ii~ our own h,,gme. Only ~ove can° secure'this desired un.ion, h uriion ~bringing,g!o~E to G0~ and h.app~in~ e,ss t6-us. This love, thi,s.~:unign, .lies ,i,.n our. will ,"He.whb k,eeps my~.comma, ndmepts, ,he it is who loves.m~:, Christ." For us in this life .s~iritual perfection is prin_ci: pally not in our intellect or emo.tion but in our will. if we would be perfect, if we would love God,. if we wguld Be one with Him, we must conform our will to His: This union is- the purpose of o~ur cre~tioi~, the core of our spir-itual growth, the one thing-God-desires. - Those who pri~e themselves on power, wealth, talents, and so forth forget tha~t with a passing wish.God could give everyone ~in intelligence quotient of two ~hundred. or two , thousand, could give every0ne~ a million d611ars 6r a bil~lion. ¯ In his eagerness to save~sou!s, God humbled' Himself exceed-ingly, suffered exceedingly. Surely He would make th~ - ,wish which would_ lavish Wealth and talent 6f eve.ry,, ki~id upon His. followers if that would help sprea&Nis kingdom ,up~gn.~earth:~,~: T.hings hke:~that He~, can handle:,qtfite, adea ~q~.ately ~i.thou_t any ~helR 4tom Us': ~; Tile one;thing,,~hicli; . T. N, ,~ORGENSEN ~e~oW for ~ligious \ ¯~y its,.ver~ nature, is beyond God's force is the free submis-s, on~ of ~our wills.~ Th~s free return t~each_i n~g-s ;~ 't_ ~ ~s. "th ~e. ~s ~m ~l t" of our perfection. God's will and ours must agree if-we would, live ~Ogeth~r ifi ~ace~ ~But His will cannot be perverted and circumscribed anti whittled down to harmonize with ours: Ours;'therefore, ~ust be molded ahd e~pa~ded~o~become one~itb ~is. ~ ~is ~omplete sdrrefider of~ our wilis[~t6 God'~ is not" too hard.' God'~i~ Wisdom hnd 'knows best" ~h~t course we ShoUld take in ~very action big-or Small. God is Lo~e and has a deep, abiding, personal, loving inte~.- est in our every~concern. Surely His will is just th~ thing we Wduld naturally choose if we were ,wis~, even if it ~ere hot commanded. If we were Commanded td d0something ~bicb God saw ~as Unwise, something out of harmony With His planS' and love--that wofild be hard ifideed. But to be commanded to do the very things which"are be~t for us in every way, that is an easy and attractive road to fol-low on our ~ay to perfecyio~. ~ The Rosary, which is one of the best methods of learning the lessons of the Incarfiation, should teach us with exact emphasis all the important lessons of our growth in grace. It should, therefore, teach us with unusual force the lesson of'humble obedience, of surrendering our will 'to God. And it does. In the Annunciation Mary gives us.a splendid exfimple of humble conformity to the will of God. When the angel has finished explaining to her just what God wi~hes and how He wishes it, Mary ans&ers, "Behold the handmaid of the Lord. Be it done unto me according to thy word." She has no thought of her own honor, rio fears ~f her 0wh grave responsibility, no anxiety even though the message changes her whole life making her a mother and a martyr, the mother of all the living-and,queeh of all martyrs: She 82 March, 1,9_47 . ,,'~ THE ROSARY'AND'GOD'S WILL ~lbes~nol~ h~itate0-a~ mbment ;in, spite of: ~ill tb(s~# great ~-gj~ts and,~gia~es and ~sfifferiff~s[and ~.duti~s,~ ~Sh~' does~not .e~en dwelkon the~ l~fi~erkthhn- it,-t~kes~to,anderstan~them.-,Sbt is so filled with desire to know and to do God~stwill~that'sbe bas.ng~fob~,~eft~in,~er~soul~ f0r _~anity b~fe~:~,~ ~his~ispo-sition~ of ~co~lete ~ubmissi6n tO ~God'~s .will~ leads~tarpoise and p~ace;afid ~p~iness inehny situation:that ~l~ife can bff~r~ Surely_ this~first Ros~ry:~yst~ry ~gi~u~:a p'0werf~l~r~e ,to ,pra~tice.,hu~ble,~gb~dience." ~Ma~y,;s-exam~le d~a~s us,~itb tendgr strength gg~.~oin her~ in saying?in:M1 ,the, tests?of~:offr life~,/,)Bqhold,O~,Lord, ~Your h~ndmaiden, ~our~ready, ser~ va,fit, ~Nour trusting child;, ~Be it~ donff~unt~me;~a¢cOrding ; ~:~,~herVisttatlon~,rehF~s the lesson~./Li.ke al.1 great,souls~ Mar.~ l~as ;of~ X,~reflectiy~ trend. of mind:~ th¢ gospel~.tha.t ~it~,~as-~ber ~habit~ to .~.ponder, ~n.,her ~hea.rtv~ thel ~ords:o£,othefs ,7.~Euke. 2~:d.9,f~:2:~:5~l,)~. ~e knoW~t06; Lha.t,,"Mary's ~,l~ove ~ifor,, ,,God ,~as .~ great,; -h~r,-~sire for~ the coming, ofbthe, Messiah~as dntense.° :~hen"ithe ahgel left her~,~therefore,~it Would hav~,,been pleasant, ind~'ed to reflect leiso;~ely.~up~n :his,,~ gl6ri0u~ ~message, ~,to~ meditate, ~on,, the unique love and tru~tiGod,had~shown her, to?adore in(the silenc~ of h~r_own oroom :the. God-man who~had~ just come :tolife Githin~her, womb~ B'ut ~he kne~th~t Eliza'beth,and 3ohn the Baptist needed her. "And she arose and went. in hast~ into, the hill country to~visit her cousin.~ ~This prompt .response,to the slightest suggestion:of God'~ d~si~e. couple~ W, ith, the~ever-presefit hffmility ~hich .urges her .(the Mother of God) to go forth.doing good ,instead 6f waiting for Others to ~ome in. service to h~t~this again is, a togent Aesson to, us of humbleobedience. The happy maiden in 5he:springtime of¯ l'[fe, jub~!ant ~in Go'd's~,love as,,she has_tens over ~the~hills,xsh~ws.,us thavobedience~is;n~t~a sad~or .sober thing:f0r ~I1 of its yseri~sness; ~God ~gi~es Mary to T. N. JORGENSEN Review ~or Religious as an example. , If we surrender~ to His gra,ce, His love will~ bless us and Christ will truly abide ~nd grow within Us. Our gay journey over the hills of life-will end in our own joyous Magnificat~ Thethird joyful m~rstery pictur,es the happy, Mary- and Joseph in a cave, 'the shepherds running to join them, the Magi coming frorfi afar with their symbolic gifts. It was through 'humble obedience that all these arrived at this. haven of joy.- ~Mary and Joseph humbly made the trip to Jerusalem in obedienc~ tothe census-t, aking edict of AUgus~- tus Chesar, their civil ,superior. They might have consid-ered themselves excused under the circumstances, ,but they did not, arid their obedience led to the fulfillment of the prophecies and to the joy of the shepherds and of the Magi and of all Christians. The shepherds believed and acted upon the almost'unbelievable words of the angels that they .- should find God wrapped in swaddling '~lothes and laid in a manger. They belie,veal and followed' humbly and, found happiness. The Magi were obe~tient to an impulse of grace and to the light of a st~r, traveling great distances on what; no doubt, their friends called a wild,goose chase. They also found God and happiness~ All~ these were humble enough to see God in a helpless Babe and obedient enough to come in search of Him and adore Him. ,Thus they found joy,andpeace. The Presentationfifids Joseph and Mary offering Christ in tile ~emple in respons~ to the command of the Jewish law/"Every male~ opening the womb shall be called holy to the Lord" (Luke 2:23). Again Mary might have held herself exempt, for the virgin birth kept her from coming directly under the law. But Christ was her first-born,'anit so she complied even though her virginity wasuntouched. H:id she failed to comply, her neighbors, who did not kno~ of the miraculous nature of the birth, would have be~n 84 Marcb,'1947. ,~ THE ROSARY AND GOD'S WILL scandalized. Because she did comply, some people have doubted her virginity. Mary chose the second'~horn of this dilemma. Whatever Mary may have foreknown, God cer-tainly foresa.w that heretics would use this obedience of Mary's as an argument against her perpetual virginity'. God is most zealous.of Mary's honor; ye~ He inspired her to fulfill the law. For "obedience is better than sacrifice," because by obedience the whole man body, mind, and will is given entirely to God. On another occaslon, too, God taught.obedience at the risk of some people's misunder-s~ tanding Mary's glory. Christ, while speaking to a crowd. was told that His mother and brethren stood outside seeking t9 speak to Him; and'pointing to His-f011owers about Him He said, "Behold my mother and my brethren. Forwho~ soever shall do the will of my Father is my brother and sister and mother.'.' (Matthew 12:50.) And again .when the woman in. the drowd cried out blessing His~ mother, Christ answered, "Yea, rather~ blessed are~ they who hear the word of God ~ind keep it" (Luke 11:28). ,We know tha~,.the true understanding of these passages gives Mary praise; but nevertheless they urge us to praise her more. l~ecause her will is one With His than because she is mother. ' The Findin~ in the Temple orecalls these words of Christ,-"Did you not know that I must be about my Father's business?" (Luke.2:49.) Mary's question had u~ed the word "Father" in reference to Josdph;-Christ used it in reference to God the Fathers"from whom comes a11 paternity" and all authority. Doing His Father's business was, of course, submitting Himself to His Father's-will, was being obedient. These are the first words of Christ recorded in Scripture. His first lesson is a lesson of obedi-ence. His last lesson is the same, for "He,was obedient unto death, even unto the death Of the cross." 85 T. N. JORGEN~EN \ Revieu~ for Religious ~ In foretelling the characteristics of Christ, .the Psalmist says in His name, '~Sacrifice and oblation. ~ burnt offering and sin offering thou didst not require~ Then said I, 't3ehold t~c~me: In the h~ad of the book it is written of.me that I should do thy' will. O my God, I have desired it, and thy law is in the depth of my h~ar't.' " (Psalms 39:8ff.). A,fter ° the finding.in the Temple, "3esus went down into. Nazareth With Mary and 3oseph and.,was subject tothem." His thirty years of life in Nazareth give, in. point of time at least; ~a tenfold emphasis upon obedience over all the l~ssons which He crowded into'the three .years of public'miniStry! " The Sorrowful Mysteries carry on 'the lesson of humble obedience.- A.week before the Passion, Christ said to His - protesting apostles; "Shall I not drink the chalice which my Father has prepared for Me?" Looked upon as medicine which the perfect Doctor has carefully prepared,, sufferings become endurable, even most desirable. And they are jus.t that--the best of medicine. We' never have faced and never will face any suffering which God has not,prepared or per-- mitted for a very definite good in our spiritual life. ._ At the beginning of His Passion Christ spent hours in the agony in the garden praying over and over again~ "If it ¯ be possible let this chalice pass from me, howev~er,, not my ~ill but Thine be done.~" Not my will but Thine be donee-how perfectly these words of the first sorrowful mystery echo Mary's words of the first joyful mystery, "'Be it done unto me-according to thy word."-With this prayer to strengtl~en Him, Christ overcame His fear' and went forth bravely with unwavering poise to endure the worst that man and devil could devise. All that He endured, He looked upon a~ providential, the fulfilling of the prophecies;., the sanctifying, of the human race, the chalice prepared by His loving Father. Even when manifested only indirectly tlSrough civil authority, the will o~ God was His "meat / 86 Marcl~o i ~ ~ 7 'THE 'ROSARY AND GOD'S.XX~IKL indeed." Like P~ter He was subj~ct to human authority "for God's sake." Like Paul He taught that "there is no power butofrom God and. those that are ordained by God: therefore he that resists lawful superiors, resists God" (.Ro-mans 13 : 1 ). -The Glorious Mysteries take, up where the sorrowful ones leave off, fob they picture the reward which Christ gained by His Passion. "He humbled himself becoming obedient unto death, .even to the death of the cross. For which cause. God has exalted'Him and has given Him a name" which is above all other names, that in the name 6f 3esus-every knee should bow of those that are in Heaven, on earthl and under the.earth, and that eyery_tongue should confess that the Lord ,Jesus Christ.is in the glory of,Ggd the Father."- (Ph!lippians 2:8ft.) The reward which ,we meditate upon in the glorious mysteries, Christ's and Ma~y's and the saints', is the pledge and protot~rpe, the promise and the pattern, of.the glory that c6hae~ to all who through. humble obedience gain gl0ridus triumph. "The obedient man shrill speak of Victory" (Proverbs 21:28): Runqir~g ~tfirough .all the mysteries~-joyfgl, sorrowful, and glori6us--we have the "Thy will .be. d6ne on earth ;is. it is in Heavefa" of the Our Father. Virtue means being like.the blessed in heaven; their'ob~dience is c~mplete and therefore their freedom and.happiness are perfect. This/ prayer.at the beginning of each decade keeps reminding us,. in .our subconscious mind at least if not in ou~ conscious thoughts, that the road to peace and joy and triumph is identical with the road to the fulJ surrender of ou,r will to Gbd. At times it may. not seem so to us, of course, because oub ignorance and emotion may blind us to a great degree. We are like men walking a straight and well-marked road in a fo~ or darkness which gives, it a strange and d~u.btf, ul appearance, It is just b~cause of this deception that we, x - T. N. JORGENSEN \ ~must renew and enliven our faith with frequent Rosaries.' All of the foregoing shows us how the vital lesson of_ humble obedience is taught, and taught with the great insistence it deserves, in the Rosary. _It would be an inter-esting and a highly profitable exercise to see how other import,ant lessons and virtues ruin through the fiifteen mys-teries. They a, re there.~ All that we need is there, for ~the Rosary is the story of the Incarnation, and the Incarnation is God's answer to original sin, God's o;,vn wonderful'plan for our perfection and salvation. " PAMPHLETS AND BOOKLETS~ Some time ago we announced that we could not accept pamphlets for review. Up to this time we have tried to print at least an occasional list of pamphlets received: but even this is becoming increasingly difficult. The present list includes most.of the pamphlet literature we have received in recent months. With the pub-lication of this list. we cease all listing of pamphlets except those 'which might have , a verg special pertinence to our readers. ¯ ~ I. From the Radio Replies Press, St. Paul 1, Minnesota: First Fridays, 15 cents: Wh~t A Mission $ister,~15 cents:The Three Hours and All Fridags of the Year, 35 cents: The Music of~th~ ~Mass. 25 cents: Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament, 15 cents; The Blessed Virgin and the Jews, I0 cents: General Devotions to the Blessed Virgin, 15 cents: The Paraclete Novenas to the Holy Spirit, 15 cents; What is the CarBolic Faith, Anyway? 20 cents:~Way of the Cross for Chddreno 15 cents: Qmzzes on Christian 8ciencei 15 cents: T, be Death of Christ the Warrior, 50 cents; Forty Hours for'Priests and People, 35 cents. II. From The Grail, St. Meinrad, Indiana: Christ and the Soul, 10 cents; The Role of the Priest in tbe Apostolate of Reading, 10"cents: What is the Answer? 10 cents: Imitate Your Blessed Mother, 25 cents; Fruitful Days, 25 cents; This,is Jesus,~ 15 cents: Way,of the Cross for Religious, 10 cents:. Manual of the 8errant of Mar~ , 25 'cents; Digest of the Liturgi-cal Seasons, 25 cents; Liturgical Essays, 25 cents:~,Rouse Tby Might, 25 cents: The Ma~s Year, 30 cents (4 copies. $1.00; 50 copies, $10.00);_Newness of Life, 25 cents; A More Exce, llent Way, 15 cents: Polnt~ for Meditation, 15 cents; Some Hints on Prayer, 15 cents: The Charity of Jesus Christ, 15 cents: T~ Seek ¯ God, 10 cents (vo'cationabl o~oklet. otnhe life ofa Benedictine Sister); Come and See, 25 cents (an insight into the life of the Benedictine monk): Follow Christ, 25 cents (the'vocation numbers for 1945. 194'6, 1947): Christ ~alls,~25.cents (vocation guidebook for use of'teachers). - ~ III. Various publishers: Attention Miss Ares?ira. A vocational booklet pub~lished 'by the DominiCan Sisters, Immaculate Conception Convent, Great Bend, Kansas¯ ~ (Continued on p. 97) 88 The I:fl:ects o1: Holy Communion on the Body C. A. Herbst, S.J. THE effects of Holy Communion are wrought primarily in the soul. By a most intimate union through~char-ity, Christ taken as food sustgins and nourishes the soul, causes it to grow in grace, builds up the ravages wrought by sin, .and brings delight. But it would be strange indeed if Holy Communion "had no effect on-the body. We consider holy .the altar on which the body and blood of Christ is Offered; afad the tabernacle in which He rests, a sacred place. Ought not our bo'dies, into whic~ He has entered so often,-be sacred too? During His lifetiine here on earth, great healing power. wentout from the mortal body.of Christ.~. "And all the multitude sought to touch him, for virtue went out from him, and healed a11" (Luke 6:19). These wonders were worked by a mere paS~ing contact. Now that the body of Christ is glorified, what wonders ought we not to expect from His coming into ofir very bodies? "For no man hateth his own flesh: but--nourisheth and-cheris'he'th it, a.~' algo Christ doth the church: because we are members of his body, of his flesh, and of ~is bones~' (Ephes.ians 5:29, 30). Man is composed of two elements, a body and a soul. These twoare most ihtimately joined and greatly influence each other. This is well illustrated by the transmission of original sin. ~ " If the. flesh of the first man made poisonous and° mortal com-municates death to the soul, shall not the Flesh of Christ. wbich is l~ealthful 'and life-giving, bestow upon it life and safetg? Therefore as the soul contracts all its ills by flesh, it ought by flesh to receive all its benefit. If it is to be freed from the evil which came to it by the / 89 C. A. HERBST Review for R~tigious 'flesh of the first man, it must'have society" and union witl~ the Flesh of Christ, the Sec0hd Man. And as by the single flesh of the first' man all souls are infected and destroyed, so are all souls washed, .cleansed and quickened b~ the Flesh of Christ. As the flesh of" the first man is the storehouse of all vices, sins and crimes, so ali virtues. al~ spiritual treasures and all blessings ale stored up in the,Flesh of Christ. As the former flesh separates the soul from God and unites it wi'th Satan, so the Flesh of Christ separates it from Satan and uniters. it to God. For as Satan lurks in the flesh of the firs~ man, so the Godhead abides in the flesh of the Second'Man. (Catholic Faith in the Holy Eucharist, edited by C. Lattey, S.J., p. 191.) --- Because of the intimate union between the body and. the sob1 and because of the intimate union of Christ with both the body and the soul in Hbly Corrimunon, this .sacrament sanctifies both. St. Clement of A1exandkia says: And the mixture 6f b6th--of the drink and of the Word.---is Call~d Eucharist, renowned.and glorious grace: and they who by faith p~rtake of-It are sanctified both in body and in soul. For the divine mixture, man, the Father's will has rhystically compounde~d bY the, Spirit and. the Word. For, in. truth, the Spirit is joined to.the soul, which is inspired by It: and the flesh, by reason of whichthe Word. became flesh, to the-Word. (Paedogog., 1.2, c.2.) B~r reason of the uriion of the body of Christ with our bodies in,Holy Communion, a sort of relationship arises between our bodies and His. There is a certain affinity, of c0~ncorpo~ration everi,, between our bodies and His. The Fathers of the Chu, rch speak of_this not merely as of a passing state existing only--as 10ng as the sacred- species remain with us, but as of a permanent effect in-our bodies, setting up something of a blood relationship with Christ. He considers our bodies as somethihg of His own and sur-rounds 'them with a special" protection. According to the promise of Christ and the declaration~ of the Fathers it seems that we must say that Christ the Lord considers the very flesh,of tho~'e who_worthily receive the sacrament as I~is own flesh b~t special a~nitg, as though consecrated by contact with His. most sacred flesh . This mystical 9O 2 EFFECTS OF HOLY COMMUNION union of our flesh with the flesh of Christ receives its fuller consum-mation and as it were sacramental consecration through, conjunction of His glorified body and blood with our own b6dies. In thi~, union ire celebrated th~ nuptials of the Lamb with His Spouse the Church still pilgrimaging in the single members; which will be celebrated more happily and in more complete union only in our heavenly l~ome. (Franzelin, De 85. Each., c. 19.) Holy Communion" restores to .us something of our 6riginal integrity. St. Gregory o'f Nyssa says: Since we have tasted (of the forbidden tree) which has wounded our nhture, we must have something that will "heal what has been wounded . ~Now what is this? Nothing other than. that body that has showed itself stronger than death and was_the source of our life. For'as a little leaven, as the Apostle says, fermenteth the-whole mass, so the body give~ over by God to death thoroughly changes us into itself when itis within us. (Patrologia Graeca, 45, 94.) Thii does not mean, of course, that. concupiscer~ce is .completely extinguished by receiving the Holy Eucharist. But by means of the Sl~eciaI abundance of grace the sacra-ment ,brings to the soul, it is much easier to overcome the temptations o'f the flesh and the devil. (~oi~cupiscence is gre~itly restrained arid we are able to dominate ~it more easily. Such chanriels of grace are opened in the soul that they overflow, so to speak, to the Body whidh is so inti- ~atelyJconnected with it. But there is an even more immediate effect upon ~he body:Z Sometimes the presence df Christ in us weakens our propehsity~to be aroused by carnal excitations. By a cer-tain preternatural tempering of the bodily dispositions, it restrains,our natural incliiiation t0ward-things.6f the flesh. Although this is not certain, it dods seem that at times Christ has almost fettered concupiscence in the bodies of His saints, This would seem more .proBable since the sacrament of extreme unction affects the body when God sees fit. We ,must also take into consideration the fact that God can exercise His special providence in this regard by 91 C. A. HERBST Review for Religious removing external occasions that are the cause of sinf~l movements in man and by exciting in him thoughts and affectibns that lead to t.emlSerance. De Lugo explains that the Eucharist affects the body di/ectly and immediately "b~ro diminishing the intensity of the fire of_ concupiscence,' partly by putting the demons to flight so that they will not present images of sinful objects, partly by quieting and'sup-pressing the activi.ty of the humors, lessening their inten-sit, y, and so" forth" (De Sac. Each., 12, 5). The effect of Holy Communion on the body most dwelt upon in Christian tradition is that indicated by Christ in John 6, 55: "He that eateth my flesh, _and drinketh' my blood, hatheverlasting life: and I will raise him up in the last ~tay." Although it is decreed for every man once to die and for his body to return to the earth from whence it was taken, there results from the reception of this sacrament some beginning of incorruptibility and immortality already in this life. St. Ignatius speaks of "breaking one and_the same bread, which is the medicine of immortality, and the antidote to prevent us from dying, but (which causes) that we .should live forever in Jesus Christ" (Eph., 20). St. Irenaeus says: "Thus also our bodies, receiving the Eucharist, are no longer corrut~tible, having the hope of-tl~e ~esurrection"; and "How do they deny the flesh to be "capable of the gift of'God, which is eternal life, Which is nurtured by the body and blood of Christ, and is a member of rus. (Patroloqia Graeca, 7, 1029; 1126.) St. Cyril of Alexandria comments thus on John 6, 55: I, He says, being in him that is, by My flesh will raise him who eats up again, even on the last day. For, of course, it cannot be that He who accordihg to nature is life shoul'd not prevail over cor-ruption and vanquish de~th. So although death, which has taken hold of us by the Fall, has reduced the human body to the necessity of corruption, still, because Christ by His flesh is in us, ~e shall cer-tainly rise a~gain. For it is unthinkable, quite impossible even, that March, 1947 EFFECTS 0~- HOLY COMMUNION the Life should not restore life to those in whom He dwelt. For as we put a spark in a heap of straw that the seed.of the fire may~be preserved, sb also Our Lord Jesus Christ through His flesh enkindles life in us and, as it were, sows in us the seed of immortality which removes.all the corruptio.n that is in us. (Patrologia Graeca, 73,582.) In the dogmatic teaching of ~he ChurCh, one finds little about the effects of Holy Communion on the body; but .tra.dition-is heavy with it. Perhaps no better indication of its burden can be given than is contained in these words Of St.~ Irenaeus: ~ ~ 'Wherefore,also the Blessed Paul says in the Epistle to the Ephe: sians: "For we are members of his body, of his flesh and of his bones" (Epl~esians 5:30): not of some spiritual orinvisible ~an s~ying this :. "for a spirit has neither bones' nor-flesh" (Luke 24: 39) ~ but Of that disposition which is of a true man, which consists of flesh and nerves and bones. (Patrologia Graeca, 7, 1126~.) As indicated, modeln theologians have als0 made~m~fch of it. About ali that can be~said on the_whole matte~ has been summarized masterfully by qne of.the greatest of them. ~ W.hen Christ' is worthily received.,He is .r~eally joined ,witia the recipient, because He is truly and properly within him~ and as it were ~aken in a. bodily embrace. From this it follows that, as 10rig as Christ is present, in so far as it is from His sacramental power, He excites the recipient, to love, and in affection also embraces him cor-porally, who has Him corpora.11y within himself. Then again, from the same bodily reception and.as it were commingling, as the s~ints say, there remains,'~ven after the real presence of Christ is gone, a. certain relationship between Christ and the recipient. For by reason of that cont.act, by special title this one is considered something of Christ. Christ has special care not only~of his soul, but even of his bod~. He sanctifies it. He makes it partaker of His glory." (Suarez, .93 News Views Summer Sessions Two years ago-we volunteered~to publish information on summer sessions for (eligious, if the deans would send us the information. Since the experiment was not entirely sati~sfactory from our point of view, we decided to discontinue' it. It seemed, as the old saying goes, "more bother than it was worth." - However, some deans have shown su~fficient interest in the plan.to send information spontaneously;and we are quite willing to co-operate with them b~, publishing the" fol-lowing ann.ouncements. The University of Detroit will offer four institutes during the 1947 summer session, in addition to.a serie's of four lectures on Mental Hygiene in the Religious Life, and over a hundred different credit courses in nineteen departments. Doctor Francis J. Donohue, Direc-tor of the Summer Session, describes the Detroit program for. religious . as follows: ¯ "Rev."T. L. Bouscaren, S.J.', Profe.~sor of Canon Law at the Jesuit House of Theological Studies at West Baden Springs, Indiana, ~'- will give from July 7thto July 18ththe second of a series of'~hree Institutes on Canot~ Law. The Instituie for 1947- will consider problems concerning the confessions of religious women, religious services, obligations of Religious, the cloister and dismissal. During .the" same two-week period ihe Rev. Robert B. Eiten, S.,I., author of The Apostolate of Su~ering, will offer an Institute on the Proper Concept of the Religious Life, devoted to the practical application of the principles of Asceticism in the religious life. "During the next two-week period the University will-present an Institute on Hoipital Ethics, .given by the Rev. EdwiaF. Healy, S.~I., Professor of Moral Theology a~ West Baden College, and an Institute on Palochial Elementary School Curriculum directed by Sister Mary Edana, Ph.D., of Mercyhurst College, Erie, Pa. This secbnd series of Institutes will run from duly 21st to August 1st. "The daily schedule of the Institutes is so arranged that a student could take both Institutes if desired, or could take one'Institut~ and at least one course for either undergraduate~qr graduate credit. "In addition to tlX Institutes, the Rev. H. P. O'Neill, S.,I., will, present a series of four lectures on.Mental Hygiene in the Religious 94 NEWS AND VIEWS .I~ife, from'July 21st through July 24th. Father O'Neill's lectures will be open only to local superiors and to responsible officials of the various~ Motherhouses and have be~n scheduled so as not to conflict " in time with either of the two Institutes offered during the same week. "Religious who desire further informa~tion-are invited to com-munciate with Dr. Franci~ J. Donohue at the University of Detroit, Detroit 21, Michigan." . Father Adam C. Ellis, a member of our own editorial board, _will. conduct an Institute in Can6n Law-for Religious at St. Louis Uni-versity, June 23 to July 5, ificlusive (twelve day~). 'The institute is open to all religious; but it is intended particularly for superiors, mas-ters and mistresses of novices, bursars, find others charged with some - direction, of religious communities. For further informationJ on this . and other_courses of special value to religious, v~rite to the Dean of the Summer SeSsion, St. Louis University, St. Louis 3, Mo. "The theological .faculty of the Jesuit Seminary, Toronto, will conduct two summer schools for religious in July. Courses i'n Canon .Law and Fundamental Moral Theol09~ will be given at Mount St. Vincent, HalifaX;. July 21 to August 2. Cot~rses in Dogma, Scripture, and Ascetical Theolo~l~ will be given at Rosary Hall, Toronto, July.7 to 19. For further information write to the Dean of Summer School, 403~ Wellington St., West, Toronto, Ontario.° Conce~rnlng Pamphlets As we mention elsewhere in this number,-it would be impossible for us to review all the pamphlets sent to us; One reason is that we simply have not-time to read them; and a second reason is that, even if'we could read them all, we should not have sufficient space for the reviews. In fact, in a magazine the Size of ours, even, book reviews -present a serious problem. Our original idea was to confine our reviews to books of kpecial interest or value to religious. We still hope to achieve this~but hardly in the immediate future. As for the pamphlets, it seems only fair to call attention~to some of those listed in our present number. For instance, it might be noted' that The.Grail now publishe~ the pamphlets'of. Archbishop Goodier: Hints on Pra~/er: The C.hari~t~l o~ Jesus Christ; Points /~or Medita-tion; and ~1 More Excellent VCa~t. We had read these before, and we can recommend them all, especially the last-named. Our reading knowledge of the pamphlets received is limited to those four. However, if a scanning of, the'~contents is reliable, .95 o : NEWS AND VIEWS Review for Religious. 'think we might recommend two other Grail bool~lets (This, is desus, by the Ver, y"Rev. Emil Neubert. S.M.; ,and Imitate Your Blessed Mother, by Peter A. Resch, S.M.) because they seem to contain good" meditation matter. The Grail list also includes a set of booklets on the liturgy that might be aids to meditation. Reflections on the Introits are found in Newness,of Life; on the Collects, ,in Rouse Thy Might; on the Gospels, in The Mass Year; and on the Communion in Eruifful Days . Radio Replies Press is another publishing house that has .favored us with an abundance 6f pamphlets and booklets. ,Among those listed, the folIowing seem to be of special value for religious: First Friday¯ and June Devotions; Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament'; and Gen-eral Devotions to the Blessed Virgin because these booklets contain splendid collections of indulgenced prayers that can be used in public and private',dev0tions. Forty Hours for Priests and People offers complete explanation of this devotion, and gives the Latin of the three ,Votive Masses, with English translation, and explanation of the ceremonies. The Three Hours contains prayers for priest,~ and people to be used during the Tre-Ore, and a very brief Way of.the Cross, With the prayers arranged under the fourteen ~tchings of the Holy. Face by Hippolyte Lazerges. Way of the Cross for Childreff also include~ these etchings. The'Paraclete contains novenas illustrating the-gifts and, fruits'of the Holy Spirit. Religious might find much material for meditation in tlsis booklet. New Lay Apostolate ~ Before we leave °the subject of publications, we must say a ~word about a rather recent and°truly gigantic apostolic enterprise of one Cathohc family.- This is a hturg~cal calendar ent,tled Saints_ and Devotions. It covers the whole liturgical year, from Advdnt to. Advent, gives the Ma~s of eacfi day, a brief sketch of each of~tl'ie principal saints, an app~ropriate indulgenced aspiration, information concerning special novenas and indulgences, and so forth. In fact, the amount of helpful and. inspiring information woven into this artistic calendar is scarcely short of marvelous. You ha% to see it to believe it. The,present number of Saints and Devotions covers the liturgical ye, ar beginning with~Advent, 1946. We regret that we are sg.tardy in calling it to the attenti0n.of our readers. But we trust that the project :will go on through many years; hence, even if~ we are too l.ate March, 1947 NEWS AND VIEWS for the current year, we hope that by mentioning it now we shakl encourage our readers to write for, in~Ormi~tion ,and° thu_s.~be .,pre: pared for the years ahead. For the desired information, write to:, La Verna Publishing Company, Stowe, Vermont, ~ PAMPHLET~ .AND BOOKLETS .- o. , (Continued from p., 88) ¯ " Arise,. My Love. and Comet At vocational booklet published, by. the Sisters of Mercy ~'the Union, Scrant~t Province. (Mother of Mercy Novitiate; Dallas, Pennsylvanla.)~ Vocational Digest--Parents" Edition, 1946. Published ,by the Holy~ ~Cross Fathers. (The Director of Vocations, "Holy Cross seminary, Notre Dame, Indi-ana.) ' - TheoWorld We XVant. 35 refits. .(The Catechetical Guild, 128 E Tenth,. St. Paul 1, Minn.) Bits of Information for Sacristans, 15 cents: with proportionate rates on quantity orders. Bertha Baumann, the Little Guardian Angel of the Priest's Sat-urday. '(The Salvatonan Fathe'rs, Publishing'l~epartment~ St. Nazianz, Wisconsin.) The_~ Wron'9 Tar9et-lChats on Chatting. 10 cents. Words of Eternal Life, (The Pallottine Fa.thers, 5424 W. Blue Mound Road, .Mil.wauke~ 13, Wis.) ¯How to Pray the "Mass. - I/. (The Mercier Press, Cork.) ~$ister Annunziata's First Communion Catechism.20 cents. (Benziger Brothers, Inc., 26 Park Place, New Yor~.) Unifging the Teachim2 of Catechism and' the Spiritual Life. (Pontifical Col-le~ e Jose[ahinum, Worthington, Ohio.),~ Racial Myths. Single copies. 25 cents:~25 copies, $5.00:50 c~pies, $9.00: IO0 copies, $16.00. (Rosary-Col'lege Bookstore. Rosar~ C611e'ge, River Forest, Manual of the Reparation 8ociery of the Immaculate Heart of Marq~ (The Reparation~ Society,720 North Calvert St., Baltimore 2, Md.) ,Our Neighbors the Koreans. - 35 cents, (Field Afar Press, 121 East~39th St., New York, N.Y.) Brie~ Commentary on the Texts of Matins and Lauds of the Romai~ Breviary for .the 'Sundays of Passiontide. Mimeographed, 50 cents. (Rev. Michael A. Mathis, C.S.C., St. Joseph's Hospital; South Bend 17, Ind.) OUR CONTRIBUTORS C. '~A. HERBST is Director of Scholastics at St. Mary's College, Saint Marys. Kansas. T. N. JORGENSEN is a Professor of~ English at Creighton UnivCrsity, Omaha, Nebraska. ADAM C.ELLIS, G. AUGUSTINE ELLARD, and GERALD KELLY are the Editors of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. 97 Dit:l:icuit:ies G~ Augustine Ellard, S.3. IN A "PREVIOUS.ARTICLE an effort ivas made to point , out the facts Of .the.difficultie~ pe.ople experience in medi-tation and their causes. Then two remedies were sug.- ~e-sted: namely, (I) to remove the obstacles thht'could be got rid of; and (II) constructively to develop interest both in the truths of faith and in mental prayer !tself. Positive cultivation of interest is by all means the great means-to .- progress in prayer. Now it is proposed to add some other III. A third way to vitalize meditation i,s clearly to conceive the end or purpose of it and. then to feel quite free to choose any means that are suitable. Different persons -~ would express the aim of meditation differently, but/,11 such ¯ formulations should eventually .come to ~omething like- .these: namely, to ady_ance in the knowledge/, love, and work of God; or, to achieve wholehearted love of God, both affective and effective; or, intelligently and "earnestly to- - accomplish the divine plan for one. More particularly and more proximately mental prayer should give one a keener kno~-wled~e and a more. nearly adequate appreciaf!.on Of divine realities and ~v, alues, and thus greater good will," indeliberate and deliberate. To this end, clea.rly and s.teadily held before the mind, all contributive means are legitimate. Herein lies one of the great differences ~etween vocal and mental prayer. In. reciting the Office, for example, one has rio freedom; all that one can do is pre-cisely that which has been prescribed. In mdntal prayer one c~n follow any good-idea or"affecti0n or discuss any- -thing with God. God's own infinite_ magn.itude is an 98 DIFFICULTIES IN MEDITATION~II unlimited field to be explored and talked over with,Him. His whole universe, so far-reaching in space and time and scope, all conducive in some way or other to our supernat-ural d.estiny, is also appropriate matter for consideration with Him. Naturally an~ laudably in any particular.hour of prayer a person would have a specific purpose; but if ,he finds it too difficult to pursue that, he can always fall back upon. the general end of prayer. This is always available, and alway~s al~o great and inspiring. ¯ If one should find that he has nothing tO think about or nothing to say to God, he cofild prayerfully consider jhst this problem with God. He .might find exci~l.lent material °for humiliation and shame; and an advance in humility is one of the best .things possible in the spiritual life. ".In fact it would seem that in whatever situation or predicament a man can find hiinself, he could have a little conference about it with his heavenly Father a'nd turn it to 'good account. He could help verify the principle that to those who love God and-see their opportunities everythifig Works out for the best. IV. It has just been pointed out that in mental prayer one is free to do anything that promotes one's purpose. The intelligent ,6se of method enables one to make the most this freedom. Method may be necessary, in the beginning esp~ecially, and it may be most useful, but it is' not to be fol-lowed for its own sake. Like other means, to .which it assigns order and measure, it should be used when it con-tributes to the result sought: otherwise one should, feel at perfect'liberty,to abandi~n it. If.prayer comes naturally and spontaneously; so mudh the better. If it has to be kept going by deliberate effort, method may be a i~owerfut aid. ~If one comes to a dead stop and sees no way Qf gettin~ .started.again, it is method that may.do one that service: ;A" - priest 'reading his breviary never comes to "a dead stop; th~ G,AUGUSTINE ELLARD Review for Religious rubrics are there to tell him what to do next. If he.dbes not understand them at once,.he investigates, decides as wdl~ as he can, and then proceeds. He is never at a complete loss for something to do. Similarly in meditation method indi-cates What'is~ to .be done next when Sl3ontaneity fails. It will be an aid, not a burden, if it be used intelligently.and rightly. . To help different people or the same person at different times, there are at least eleven methods of meditation that are more or less ~ell. known. As listed by, zimmermann- Ha.gge.ncy in Grundriss der Aszetik (pp. 86 ff.),.th~y are as'follows: (1) The fundamental 6r three-faculty~method; ('2) the same simplified and reduced~to a few, le~ding ques-tions; (3) contemplation in the Ignatian sense (persons, 'words, actions): (4) application of~ the senses;~ (5) port, dering a serie~,: for example; the seven capital sins, ithe. eight beatitudesLand so~ forth; (6) rumination on the successive wof'ds or phrases 6t; a vocal prayer,~ like the Our Father.; (7)"meditative reading; (8) °method of. St. Peter of Alcari-tara (concentration on the~idea of beiaefits received and thanksgiving for them),; (9,) the. method of St. Francis de Sales (considerations, affections, resolutions, thanksgiving, offerings, petitions) ; ,(10) the method of.St. Alpho~nsus ISiguori (prayer of petition emphasized);' (11)~ the~, Sul-pician method (a.~6ratiqn, communion, c0-operation. doubt there are many persons sufficiently .intelligent and interested who could in the light of one or more of these sys-te. ms devise still another one peculiarly'suited to their own indi~cidual mentalities.' In any case one can hardly com-plain that there is not enough variety, or that meth6d, if properly used, weighs the soul down, ~ In addition to these formularies it could be an aid to some people to have ready-made lists of the affections and also of the motives to which they could turn for~suggestion I00 ' March, 1947 DIFFICULTIES IN MEDITATION II. in times of need. Such schemes could be of great assistance in moments of temptation as well. as during the hour~ of meditation. To illustrate what is meant, an example or t,wo may be given. When in the course of one's mental prayer it is appropriate that one should feel moved and still one is ~o torpid that no emotion arises.spohtaneously, one could ask : ','Which of these affections should I feel ?- Love, hatred; desire, aversion; joy,~ sorrow; hope, despair:~cour-age,', fear; anger?" If a man has been thinking of some good person, or thing, perhaps he should feel moved to compla-cence, admiration, awe, a sense of sublimity,, reverence, desire, hope, confidence, courage; love, joy, gratitude, zeal, loyalty, emulation. , An evil object might call forth displeasure, hatred, aversion, horror, disgust, pity, fear;- grief, shame, humiliation, confusion, contrition, and so forth. To move or stren.gthen the will, one might consider such motives as these schemes propose: ~ ~x 1. Holy happy they~are who carry ou~ the divine plan; nega,- tively, positively.--Hqw lovely, God is! 2. The consequences, good or bad7 of.possible courses of action; for self, for God, for others; in time, in eternity.---Their intrinsic.~ - values; the pleasant or unpleasant features about them: their proprie-ties or improprieties. " ¯ ~ 3. Necessity, (possibility), facility,uPleasure, utility, .nobility. 4. Truth, goodness, beauty.--Accomplishment, joy, peace: b~atitude, imperfect in time, perfect in eternity. " V. Lindworsky "in his book, The Psychology o[ Asceti-cism (pp. 58 ft.), makes an.effort to point out how in the ~Iight of modern psychology meditation m, ay be facilitated, ¯ The follow.ing is a very brief summary. When first learning to meditate, try what is reall~, a combination of vocal and ~nental\prayer. Take a formula, for example, the ten commandments, recite a few words, pause, reflect, app.ly the ~matter to yourself~ be sorry for past failures, 101 G. ,AUGUSTINE EI~LAI~D Review [or Religious renew your good will for the future~ ask God's assistance: then go on to the next few words, trea~ them shni!arly; and thu~ proc~ed through the whole forrdula, XVhen medi-tating upon some abstract truth or some scene fro~ the ¯ Gospel, expect to go over old ideas that you have learned rather than toexcogitat'e new ones of your own. There are. not many .minds that can do much origir~al thinking. Then to"evoke and guide thought, have some "anticipating scheme," such as the familiar questions, "Who?'~ What? When?. Why?" and so fbrth. Try to develop imagery that-is- rich and realistic. Do. not expect the process of repro-ducing ideas to b~come much easier by repetition. When One is contemplating something that. is or was visible, for example, an incident in the life Of Christ, it is advisable to visualize it, that is, to reconstruct it as fully as possible before the e~es of the.imagination. Then, also one should .cultivate empathy/, that is, feel oneself, as it were, into the situation of those who a~tu~lly' took part in the historical occurrence; how, for instance, should I '.have felt if I had been one of the spectators at the-resurrection of Lazarus? Finally, in all mental prayer one. should keep in mind and be guided in the first place by the though~ of one's ~rocation, its purpose, its requirements, values, and so ¯forth. .VI. Amgng other aids to meditation the-following deserve mention or further consideration: 1. Pra~lerful and reflective reading is perhaps the' most obvious help and one that hardly any.literate person could normally 'excuse himself fr6m. It is not at all equal in commendability to m'ental prayer, but is a very excellent means of prayer and sanctification, andincomparably better than, say, sleeping. Nor is .it so lowly and mean as may at first appear. For many years no less a mystic tfaan the great St.Theresa needed a book to pray over. Of course the ,book Chosen should be suitable for the purpose, rich, mdaty, March, 1947 ' DIFFICULTIES IN MEDITATION II suggestive., ~. From rime'to time one sl~ould pause;, reflect, apply the ideas-to oneself; and confer with God. Medi-tative reading would,seem to be the absolute minimum to, be exPecte~ from an intelligent and earnest-person. 2. Thoughtful vocal prayer can also be.a great.~help,. In prayers of one'sown choice it is not the ~aumber of words that counts, but the disposition of mind, of .feeling, and of --will with which they, are said. Hence the de~ir~ibility of imp[oving these qualities. To recite one's prayers slowly, deliberately, emphasizing appropriate phrases or repeating them, and to throw as much heart and spirit ,,as possible into them, are so many ways~0f augmenting the efficacy of. therri. One of St. Teresa's nuns could not pray except vocally : .but in this case it was discovered that the recitation was accompanigd by a high form of mystical contempla-tion (The Way of ,Perfection, chap., ,41). Very -probably the best way to recite the Divine Office--I do not _say tile easiest or the fastest-~--would be to try to accompany it with a ~entle sort of diffuse contemplation. This way-,would .als0 be felt as .less burdensome-than some others. For St. Ignatius in-his last years, the breviary was so potent a stimulus to contemplation that he could not get on with-saying it andhad to be dispensed from the obligation. 3. All°~uthorities on prayer are agreed that for success in it'a minimum measure of morti~cation is ,required. It would not be possible except for a short time since'rely and earnestly to strive during° meditation to prefer the better things and ask God to help one unless at other times one tried, and to some extent successfully, to forego the worse ~hings. Bodily mortification is one of the first means to spiritual iidvankement and a person could not neglect it altogether, and then decently and wholeheartedly beseech God for His graces. Interior mortification, or self-coxitrol, rn'astery of~one's emotions, is even more ~learly and closely 103 G. AUGUSTINE ELLARD Review for. Religiot2s connected with prayer and imperatively demanded by it. Mental prayer is" almost synonymous with cultivating a good moral disposition, and this in .turn is almost synony-mous with holding one's inferior ificlinations in check. -Nobody who complains of too much difficulty or of failure in meditation need fe~l discouraged until he has given mor-tification, one of the standard means, a fair trial. Pro-ficiency in mental prayer is not one of thOse good things. that one can get for nothing. 4. Distractiot~S are a teasing and perennial prbblem-. We can hardly hope for a complete victory over them. But even when involuntary and inculpable they involve a real loss of precious,graces, and. to reduce this it is all the more necessary to make our conquest of them as nearly complete as possible.1 How close to perfect victory it c~in come is shown b'y the records of ~ome of the saints, notably of St. Aloysius. There is no simple remed~ for distractions. ~Tbe saints seem to have combated thein with a multiplicity _ o~:weapons. Each one must find out for himself what com-bination of means is most effective foi him. A little knowledge of t~he psychology of a~ttention will make one's effort more ,intelligent. We may distinguish three stages in the development of attention. In the first it is instinctive or exploratory and depends upon native or acquired interests. With this, for instance, a teacher of small children mus~.begin. Then for a time attention.may be forced; tb~at is, it m, ay need to be supported'by extraneous motives. The. old-fashioned teacher's hickory, stick may exemplify thi~ phase, or a college student toiling for credits. 1The statement in the text to the effect that even involuntary distractions involve a loss of precious graces may sound startling to some. However, it should be kept in mind that strictly mental prayer is incompatible with distractions, whether volun-tary or involuntary. A distraction really brings mental prayer to a dead stop; and thus the fruits that belqng precisely to the mental prdyer itself are lost. It is true, 0f course, that the effort made to avoid distractions is highly pleasing to God: and it may well be that God rewards this effort with graces that equal or even sutpass the fruits that would be obtained from a prayer made without distractions. ED. 104 March, 1947 DIFFICULTIES IN MEDITATION--II Finally, wheri the matter is fit to excite and' hol._d interest and one has,got sufficiehtly far into-it to see and feel that fact, attention becomes spontaneous. This of-cot~rse is the Kind that is desirable .and to be aimed at. Determinants .o~ attention, as enumerated by psy-chologis, ts, may be either external (objective) or internal (subjective). In the case of meditation the.external factors are likely to be sources of, trouble. Change attracts notice; witness lights that flicker on and off. Loud noises and bright colors are more apt to get attention. The larger,a ~hingis, the more probably, other.things being equal,, it will be remarked. .R_epetition makes for attention in many cases; thinl~ of certain advertisements or slogans. Nov~etty of any kind or unusualness is one of the .very best stimu-- Iantsof attention. Position may give an object a b~tter chance for notice, for instance, if it is nearer the observer or in the center, say, of a picture or display. Lastly, and mostly, significance br meaningfulness is a. potent .cause of attention; for a soldiel on guard in the combat zone the slightest noise or movement may be mo~t important and get his ,rapt consideration. These external stlmull,-are in general .just what one who is trying to pray without dis-tractions must as far as possible avoid. ., Tl~e internal, subjective factors are much more rele-vant to our l~urpose. It is easy and natural for us to aitend to whatever is in accord with our fundamental instinctive inclinations; an example would be anything that touches our pride or inherent tendency to pleasure. The same is true of the leading emotional "tendencies that we have admit'ted into our lives or deliberately built up therein. A strong and long fostered zeal for the foreignmissions would make one attentive~to anything that concerns th, em. Our moods have a similar effect. When we are glad we are inclined to notice what makes us more glad and w.hen we !05 G. AUGUSTINE ELEARD ~ Retffeu).for Religious are- d~pfessed we-are only too ~apt to concentrate on any-- thing that fits in Wi~h our melancholy humor. Habitual attitudes are another determinant. "A kindly ~lispo~ed per--. son will attend to. th~ better-things in others, a'rfd a con-firmed fault-finder will rather see~ their weaknesses. Edu-cation and training prepare us to attend to special fields.: Think of the differences in this respect between, say. teaching nuns, hospital workers, and'_cloistered contempl.a-tires. Of all these interior conditions pertinent to atten-. tion.and it~ opposite, distraction, perhaps ~he most i.mp~)r-. rant for those who are cultivating mental prayer is one's °purpgse, whether it. be passing' or permanent. Ifi for e~ample, a man's aim be to make a particular sale or to amass millions of. dollars before he dies, it will .be natural for him to .give his attention tO Whatever seems to conduc~ to that.purpose or to interfere with iL One wh~ is seeking fame and. honor is~ sensitive to_. all that pertains to if'and indiffereni: to other~ things. A saint is alert and resporisive to whatever'makes for progress in the love. and service of God,', an~ apostle_to anything that appears to promise help ifi sanctifying souls. Henc~ the, supreme importance and necessity of knowing, with the, ~utmost clarity, w15at ,we should want, of appreciating its value ~.fully, and then of really ~and earnestly. ~anting it. ~Naturally enough we attend to what we really want. ~ In r.addition to ,knowing and respecting the psycho-logical law~ that govern attention and: diversibn of it, one's. effort to ~ivoid distractions might well include o'the~ "fol-lowing: to acknowledge, with the proper, sense of humili-ation, that the force of distractions is greater for one,than the .attrac,tion~of God or of union with Him; to feel and appreciate as realistically as possible wha~ great.priv~ation~a in the spiritual order distractions cause for us, foroGod, and for souls: to understand that abi!ity to concentrate is One 106 March, 1947 DIFFICULTIES IN MEDI~FATION--II" 6f the most elementary desirable t?aits ii'n a p,ersonality, and that~ it is moie or less necessary for any kind of success. (nobody would expect much from a scatterbrained crea, tute.); and, ~finally, when distrac'tions do Occur and are noti.ced, to turn them to good account by a-vigorous recall of attention~ by hu,mbling oneself, by deploring the losses suffered, by talking the matter over with Gqd from differ, ent~ points of view, andby begging grace to profit even f, ro~ bne's weakneises. 5. An aid:to progress-in meditation that is especia11~ in place for American religious and priests of the twentieth century is rnoderatibnin external activities. For some~there always was the danger of.neglecting one's own interior 'life and giving oneself e~cessively to works of zeal for others, Various r~asons now seem to make this danger greater than ever before, In any man, thought.should, hold h certain primacy overaction, and above all in one who profes, ses to specialize, in the spiritual life. Overabsorption in wprk, even if it be the best possible kind of work, leaves one too tired physically for mental prayer, unbalances one's intdr- f._ :. ests and preoc~cupations, and, perhaps worst bf all, involves a certain necessity of being more or less distracted while attempting to deal with God and one's own soul. ~ 6. One of the. best means to progress iri Virtue and in prayer-is what ~e may call the general discipline of one's imagination., and emotions. It is about .the same as interior mortification or, what is more pertinent now, recollection. It is both an effect of prayer and a condition of success in subsequent prayer. If a man leave his imagination and emotions free to drift fo_r'themselves, at the very leasth~ will squander much of his energy and time, accomplish l~ss for himself and for souls, give God so much less glory, and be less happy in heaven for eternity. But it is hardly pos-sible that such a man's losses should he"merely negative. :107 G. A~GUSTINE ELLARD ~ Re~iew for Religiot~s Sooner or later he will also com~it more s~in andothus incur positive penalties. So much for the effect upon his moral ,status in general. As for prayer, he will come to it less well prepared, with less taste for it, ,with greater tendencies to all that is contrary to it, and naturally therefore with less facility in it. ~ Provin~ ~he good will protested to God in this morning's meditation will keep one better recollected during the day, better disposed in every way to avoid, evil and do good,~and betterfitted to deepen that good will in tomorrow morning's prayer. 7. Bodily posture ,is a factor of success or failt~re in prayer. Those who are free should find out by experiment what position helps them most at the time of meditation. It could.hardly be the one whichis also the most conducive to sleep. In any case it must be reverent. 'At °different times or in different states of mind or of nerves, various positions may be best. During an hour both kneeling and standing might be used., Gentle walking back and forth in some suitabl~ place is a distinct aid to some people. "One possible advantage about it is that it helps to keep away drowsiness. 8. If the aim be prayer, rather than something else, there dhould-be intelligent choice or: subject matter. The needs, capacities, graces, and so on, of all the individual members in a community are not just the same; still less are t,hey the same on, say, the fifteenth of March every year for a lifetime. Therefore, from the pqint of view of prayer it is not desirable, generally speaking, that points be read to a whole community, especially from the same book, year after year. Here again th~ guiding principle should be, "Know your objectiye and select the most suitable means!" Often-times, for instance, subjects taken for meditati6nshould be such as will reinforce one's efforts in the particular examen. T6 those whb are in earnest the Holy- Spirit may suggest at, the oddest moments lights that would make excellent 108 Ma~cb, 19,17 ~ COMMUNIGATIONS starting points for meditation. 9. Finally, it would.be a distinct aid to proficiency, in mental prayer to read, say. every fe.w years, one after another of the great classical works on prayer. As weil known and fairly recent works dn prayer one might men-tion ~the following :-R. De Maumigny, S.3., The Practic~ of Mental Pra~/er (two volumes, one on ordinary, the Other 6n extraordinary, prayer; 1905) ; Vital Lehbdey, O.Cist., .W a s of Mental Pra~]e~" (1908): E. Leen, C.S.Sp., ~ress Through' Mental ~Prayer,~ (!935); R. Garrigou- " Lagrange, O.P., .C~hristian Contemplation and Perfection "-" ,(!923), or bett~er xlow:~ The. Three Age£ of the lntertor Life (two volume.s;' 1938) ~, " ~. _ ' To conclude our~.whole study, it seems,upon analysis of the facts .and-comparison with other pertinent activities that the great difficulty in meditation is neither more nor less than lach of interest, "Whence the solution suggests itself: Read, reflect, andpray over these three questions: W/~ should I be interested? Wha¢ difference does it make? What can Ido to become interested? ~ ° ~ Reverend Fathers5 ¢ In my opinion, much of the prevailing difficulty that exists for religious in the exercise .of mental prayer is owing to the fact that so -little is known by religious of a'nything beyond the discursive method of prayer (cofisiderations, affections, resolutions). Many guides of souls (particularly in novitiates and houses of formation) la~y little or no stresson the continuity that exists between the ascetical and the mystical life, between the discursive meditation of the beginner and trheseu vlta mrioanuys ~s traegliegsi ooufs a, cwqhueirne din c tohnetierm sppilraittiuoanl odfe vthyel gpprmofeicnite"n tth: eAys't iaave 109 ÷ COMMUNICA~fIONS Review "out~rown" d~scurs~ve medhafion~and~ ~thet¢~ is .reasontto~el~e aft r a weII-~mded nowtmte~, many~reh~xous are alread~ .~r~pe~ for a~ect~ve prayer) are left to sh~tt, tot themselves. ~ed~tat~on ~tscu~s~ve variety) -becomes ~cult,. eveK ~mposmble"~ ~ut thert ~s no gulaance~as to~w~ere to'go next.~ e ~'~ %~ ~ ¯ ~ - ~Perso~hlly ~ h feeb that at: .the~ very startsof, religi6Us'dife ~every ~ovi~e at mental~ pra~er ought ~to:b~, made acquainted ~ith t~e short ~t£eatise of~ Bossuet entitled "A Short,and Easy Me~hbd¢of~Making the~Prayer oLFaitb~and of. the Sim~le Presence of God." An Eng-lish vermon ot t~s will be round ~n t~e~ ~ppenfl~x o~rogress ~fo~ef~ a'~transiat~on +or t~e lnstr~ct[ons~splflt~e~les or ~ere ~aus-s~ de,'STd.~ (pu~i~sh~d by H~rder, 190~). . ~Ee methoffrecommen~ed~ , ~by. Bossuef will" be of hel~ to'every &age.df'spiri~ual' developmen~/, bu~ ~speci~Ily to~the ~eligi~us wh6 has ~be~un ~o-find~ djsquCsiye meditation di~cult or impossible. "I might also,recommend P~re Caussade~s ~work Abandonment to Divine~Provfaenqe, with the many practical h~nts on prayer;~n'~m~letters of dxrect~on to S~sters. .~Rega~di~g.~di~c~ti~s in.m~nt~l ptayer:~ABBot'J~hn chapman givts~a~simple~rule: .~'Pray as you can~ and d6 not try to, pray,as y6u can't.;' ~vtry to~keep~,to.~d~scurmye.+med~tat~on whenz~that longer su{ts one's needs is harmful to spiritual growth. ~ But at same ttme ~bbot ~napman tnststs t~at prayer, tn the sense ~t umon w~th God, ts the most crucifying thing there is.+ One must do tt God's-+ake:+but one will not get+any s~tisfacmt'~on+ out ~f+'it+, :ih' the sense of feeling 'I am good at prayer,' 'I have an infallible method." That would be disast+ous, sine+ what we want to lear+ is precisely ou~own weakness, powerlessness, unworthiness . And one should wish for no prayer, eg~ept pr~isely the prayer that God gi~e+ probably+very di+trac+ed-and ~unsatisfactory in every wayt" (The Spiritual Letters of+"Dom John Chapman, Sheed ~ ~ard, N. Y., 1935 unfortunately out of print.) Finally,, I,should~like t6 ,list a few books that I 'have found very helpful,_in :unraVeling my own di~culties in prayer: Mental according to the teaching of~Saiht ~h~mas Aquinas, by Rev. +Denis Fahey,,~.s.sp. (D~blih: Gill ~ ~Sbn, 1927),: Tbe Practice oUtbe Presence~ o£G0d ~(the spiritual teachings of ,Brother ~awrence of:~the Resurrection), (Newman Bookshop, Wt~tminster, Md., 1945); Cbristiaff, Perfection -and,; Contemplation,,,~,:by Garrigou-k~grange (H~rder;.1;9.37)'~. ~Add to:these., of, sourse, ~the. wor~ by t Caussade and~Ch~pman mehti~ne~ab6ve. . +~ +. q~l 0 Maixb,:l 9 4 7" COMMUNICATIONS ~ 'Before ~losin-g I should like' to comment .on one: remark of Abl~ot Chapman ,quoted. above: "One ih0uld~ wish"for" no prayer;.exc~pt precisely theprayer that God gives"us. ':." Prfiyer is precisely,that-L-a gift of G6d: the effect'of His grace in our s6uls.,. Perhaps if is, f6r-getfulness of thi~ point°ithat occa.~ions so much preoccupation .with following partidular mefhods, in prayer: ,.Tbe,:perfectidn of otir spiritual "life :(hence 6f out'prayer, life) cbnsists in ufiion ,with' God; a'~d ,the greater the. simplicity in our prayer, th[~ more perfect ,'~our union".'. "Any way~ that:we have of praying that succeeds in ,bringing usdoser to God is a~'good way for us individtially---, it is 'disasirou~ to "regulate" inethods of

Issue 71.1 of the Review for Religious, 2012. This was the final issue. ; Volume 71 2012 Editor Michael G. Harter sj Associate Editor Garth L. Hallett sj Book Review Editor Rosemary Jermann Scripture Scope Eugene Hensell osb Editorial Staff Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp e v i e w f o r r e l i g i o u s A Journal of Catholic Spirituality contents prisms 4 Prisms Ignatian spirituality 8 Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? We Are Sent Kathleen Hughes rscj explores the provocative parallels between the Four Weeks of the Spiritual Exercises and the four-part rhythm of the Eucharist as two ways we are caught up in the work of God in Christ, and two invitations to replicate the whole life, death, and rising of Jesus. This article was one of the keynote presentations at Ignatian Spirituality Conference V held in St. Louis, Missouri, July 21-24, 2011. 29 Without the Drama: The Transition from Third to Fourth Week Ronald Mercier sj explores how those who make the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius are invited to enter into a grand silence where they contemplate the empty space without answers that follows the crucifixion—the space that remains the context of our lives, the place of our ministries, and the space within which joy dawns for those who know the Risen Lord. Questions for Reflection 58 Finding or Seeking God in All Things: A Few Cautionary Notes Peter J. Schineller sj researches the phrase "finding God in all things," common in writings about Ignatian spirituality, and discovers that it is rare in the writings of Ignatius. He finds that phrases such as "searching for and seeking God in all things" more accurately describe the Ignatian approach. 2 Review for Religious sharing experience 69 The Warmth, the Will, and the Way Ben Harrison mc is discovering that it helps him be more consistent in his spiritual journey if he is attentive to the warmth of the Spirit's presence in his heart and to the vows as an expression of the will to move deeper in his relationship with God. 78 Getting with the Program A young man writes of his experience of coming to terms during the novitiate with his addiction to pornography. This article could be used profitably as a case study during a novitiate class or read as background for a community discussion. Questions for Personal Reflection and Group Study discernment models 86 Dialogue with the Radically Other: Models of Discernment in the Old Testament Ligita Ryliskyte md phd sje explores the rich imagery of the Old Testament and offers valuable paradigms to understand spiritual discernment as a dialogue with God. In this essay she describes four models of discernment that might be distinguished in Old Testament imagery. departments 100 Scripture Scope: Vocation and the Call to Discipleship: A Reflection on Mark 1:16-20 105 Book Reviews 71.1 2012 3 Review for Religious prisms 4 A wise man once said: "It's a shame to waste a good crisis." If that is true, Review for Religious is facing a moment of great opportunity. In recent years the number of subscribers has steadily fallen off, and the cost of publication has risen to the point that our future as a print journal is in jeop-ardy. The recent deaths of Fathers Fischer and Fleming have taken their toll. We have reached a critical point in our history. When my provincial assigned me to succeed David Fleming as editor, he gave me a specific mission: Assess the viability of the publication. So for the past year, the staff and our advisory board have taken that mission seriously even as we worked to meet our ordinary production schedule. While we all hoped to be able to keep this good work alive, the real goal of our discernment was not to save or to close the journal, but to explore ways to more effectively serve the church. In the past months we have consulted widely. We looked at the shifting demographics of reli-gious life and understood that younger reli-gious are getting more of their information on 71.1 2012 5 the Internet than through printed periodicals. We sorted through spreadsheets of detailed financial information. We looked hard at our available resources and realized that we could sustain publication of the journal in its present format for a maximum of three to five years. The hand-writing on the wall could not be clearer: Simply maintain-ing operations as they are will inevitably lead to closure. Maintenance, without change, is not an option. Part of our analysis took us back to look at our history. Our journal came into being in 1941 at a Jesuit theolo-gate in St. Marys, Kansas, where three enterprising faculty members—Augustine Ellard, Adam Ellis, and Gerald Kelly (later joined by Henry Willmering)—invited their students to edit and publish the papers they wrote as class assignments in what became the early incarnation of this journal which has served the church and religious life proudly for the past 70 years. Richard Smith, Daniel F. X. Meenan, Philip Fischer and David Fleming edited the publi-cation over the subsequent decades. Since Review for Religious was founded at a small theology school, we began exploring the idea that a theology center, rather than the confines of our office, would be a more logical site for the publication of this journal. As we realized that a network of theology centers around the world linked through the Internet could have great potential for producing articles and generating lively discussion, we began exploring that path. We contacted the moderators of Jesuit Conferences that have significant centers of religious formation in Africa, India, and the Asia-Pacific region—in parts of the world Augustine Ellard, Adam Ellis, Gerald Kelly, Henry Willmering Review for Religious Author • Title 6 where religious life is growing—to see if any of them would have an interest in assuming responsibility for the journal. As a result of our inquiries, we are engaged in a conversa-tion with just such a center about continuing the mission of Review for Religious. We are not looking to replicate the journal as it cur-rently exists, but are talking about re-envisioning and re-designing it with current and future generations of religious in mind. As a result of our discussions and discernment, we have determined that this copy of Review for Religious is the final issue that will be produced by our St. Louis office. Whether the journal remains as a print publication, or is redesigned for delivery on the Internet, or ceases publication altogether is yet to be determined. In the meantime, we are suspending publication and putting a moratorium on renewals or new subscriptions until our discernment is completed. To say that we have reached the end is premature. A hiatus or pause is a more accurate description. As Ron Mercier points out in his article in this issue, a rest is as important a part of a musical score as is a chord or a whole string of arpeggios. And such a time of waiting can be a rich moment. We are not sitting idly while the discussion goes on but are in the process of digitizing our entire collection. We plan to make every article, poem, and book review we have published available on the Internet. It should be an invalu- Richard Smith, Daniel Meenan, Philip Fischer, and David Fleming. 71.1 2012 7 able archive for anyone wishing to research the shifts in religious life during the past 70 years. I am grateful to our current staff: Mary Ann Foppe, who has been the office manager for the past 25 years; Judy Sharp, our receptionist, who has handled subscriptions; Rosemary Jermann, who has written the Bookshelf column; Garth Hallett sj, who has served as Associate Editor; Tracy Gramm, who has done layout and graphic design. I have appreciated Ed Hensell osb, Elizabeth McDonough op, Richard Hill sj, and Joseph Gallen sj, who have provided regular columns over the years, and Jean Read, Iris Ann Ledden ssnd, Regina Siegfried asc, Claire Boehmer asc, Joe Meek, and many oth-ers who have made major behind-the-scenes contri-butions. They have been an excellent staff. We are grateful to the countless number of con-tributors who have sent us manuscripts and poetry for our consideration. They helped us keep our finger on the pulse of religious life. And finally, we thank you, our faithful subscribers. We are grateful for your support, and we trust that we have been an important resource for you over the years. Please read the inside of the back cover of this issue. It contains details about how to keep informed about the progress of our discernment. We will notify each subscriber about the outcome of that discernment. Please pray that the Spirit will lead us to a good conclusion. Michael Harter SJ Rosemary Jermann, Mary Ann Foppe, Tracy Gramm, Judy Sharp and Michael Harter Review for Religious Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? We Are Sent I need to begin with a confession. I was given an assignment to speak about the Eucharist, particularly as it describes a way of life flowing from Weeks Three and Four of the Exercises. I am not an expert on the Spiritual Exercises, but I have been a student of the Eucharist for many decades, so I was happy to think about this topic. And, though the talk was still non-existent, a description had to be prepared for the program booklet. Many of you have prob-ably had the same experience. You make up a description of a talk right out of thin air, hop-ing to be sufficiently generic so you can talk about almost anything at all. kathleen hughes ignatian spirituality 8 Kathleen Hughes rscj, former professor of Word and Worship at the Catholic Theological Union in Chicago and former provincial of her order's United States prov-ince, is currently a mission consultant in the Network of Sacred Heart Schools. Her address is 541 S. Mason Road; St. Louis, Missouri 63141. 71.1 2012 9 But a funny thing happened to me on the way to the topic assigned. I took a detour. I stumbled onto what I regard as an amazing new insight about how the Eucharist and the Spiritual Exercises mirror each other. At first I thought I was the last to arrive. Then I checked with those who have far greater familiarity with the literature on the Spiritual Exercises, and no one had heard any reflection on such a topic. That, too, gave me pause and left me wondering how far out on a limb I was climbing. Nevertheless, here's the insight I want to develop in the first part of this talk: there seems to be a quite provocative parallel between the Four Weeks of the Spiritual Exercises and the four-part rhythm of the Eucharist. The gathering rites of the Eucharist include elements of praise and penitence, as are typical of movements in Week One of the Spiritual Exercises; the Liturgy of the Word is the gradual unfolding of the person and work of Jesus Christ, as occurs in Week Two; the Liturgy of the Eucharist, the celebration of Jesus' death for the life of the world, is the heart of Week Three; and the concluding rites of the Eucharist have an affinity with the rhythms of Week Four. In these pages I intend to develop this thesis in more detail, hoping in the process to give fresh insight into God's activity in these two parallel celebrations of the paschal mystery—these two ways we are being caught up in the work of God in Christ. Then I will move to a focus on the Eucharist itself, as it flows from Week Three, incarnates the intimacy of Week Four, and remains the abiding experience of consolation, chal-lenge, and invitation to faithful living, parallel to leav-ing retreat and picking up everyday life. Review for Religious Hughes • Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? 10 Part I: Parallels Overview First, then, before we look at the Four Weeks of the Spiritual Exercises and the four parts of the Eucharist in more detail, let me offer an overview of the resonances I've discovered between them. Both the Eucharist and the Spiritual Exercises are a series of movements or stages that, negotiated with grace, realize the Christian ideal of identification with Christ. Both are invitations to conversion; both, at their heart, are offers of holi-ness and transformation. Both the Exercises and the Eucharist have a basic psychological rhythm that facili-tates growth in the spiritual life. The Exercises and the Eucharist as we know them only gradually evolved to their present form. The Exercises began as jottings in Ignatius's personal notebook—conso-lations, desolations, graces received—and this collec-tion of insights developed into a practical manual as Ignatius gave them to oth-ers and learned from their experience. They remain a core series of spiritual exercises that are endlessly flexible as enfleshed in the lives of individuals. The Eucharist, too, is the result of a gradual evolution over time around the core of readings and the breaking of bread, making every age and every human commu-nity a fresh inculturation of a basic pattern. Happily, in our day the basic four-part structure of gathering, listening, responding, and sending has been recovered in the liturgical reforms of the Second Vatican Council. Both the Eucharist and the Spiritual Exercises interrupt our ordinary time with extraordinary grace. 71.1 2012 11 Interestingly, both the Exercises and the Eucharist are filled with words, indeed with dialogue, and with spaces of silence. Both also make appeal to all of our senses and stir up mystagogical insights in those who are attentive. Both the Eucharist and the Spiritual Exercises interrupt our ordinary time with extraordinary grace; they help us to make sense of our life as it is unfolding before the living God. And both the Eucharist and the Exercises send us to live, in deed, what we have just experienced in this time of encounter with the divine. Finally, both these patterns of prayer follow, for most of us, familiar and predictable dynamics and so, for each, we need the grace to pay attention, to move beyond the familiar in order to get inside the mysteries. The First Week and the Gathering Rites of the Eucharist We come to retreat or to Eucharist just as we are, and we bring our history and our particular world with us into this sacred time and place. We come, sometimes breathlessly, from the work we have just left behind and the preoccupations that fill our minds and hearts. We come always with unfinished business and with distrac-tions, even burdens, of body and spirit. We come with our crosses and our inexhaustible needs. We come because we are drawn to a time and space of intimacy and prayer, of encounter with the Lord who will tutor our hearts, of transformation to new and deeper life. We come to be nourished. We come remembering God's goodness and God's fidelity to us, no matter our own response. We come hoping to touch our finger to the flame once again, placing ourselves, for this span of time, on holy ground. God's unconditional and ever-faithful love perme-ates our awareness in Week One. Each one of us has Review for Religious Hughes • Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? 12 been blessed with divine life; God's creative activity has showered each of us in unique ways and has supported and sustained us throughout our lives. In face of the immense goodness of God, we acknowledge our inade-quate response; we know that sin has hindered our rela-tionships with self and others and, above all, with God. Week One provides the opportunity to recognize sin as our failure to respond with love to God always present, to express our own sorrow and repentance, and then to know God's ever-greater love, mercy, and forgiveness. We reflect on our lives in light of God's boundless love for us, knowing that God wants to free us of everything that gets in the way of a loving response. The focus is less on particular sins than on our relationship with God that has been damaged, perhaps even shattered. Yet it is a relationship always available, for God longs for intimacy with us far more than we could ask or even imagine. Our personal history gives us hope: God is filled with mercy and compassion, slow to anger, full of kindness. God's response to our repentance is mercy and forgiveness. By the end of the First Week, we know ourselves as sinners, loved and rescued by a God who is so much greater than our hearts. These same heart movements are present in the gathering rites of the Eucharist. We generally begin the celebration with a hymn of praise and thanksgiving. We are then invited into a time of silence before the liv-ing God, and we cannot but realize our unworthiness and our experience of sin. In the language of the new Missal we own our complicity in sin "through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault," and we join with one another in begging for mercy and for-giveness: "Lord, have mercy." Then the Gloria is our hymn of praise after the words of absolution: "May 71.1 2012 13 almighty God have mercy on you, forgive you your sins, and bring you to life everlasting. Amen." We begin the Eucharist knowing ourselves as loved sinners, disposed to open our hearts to the word proclaimed in our midst. There are two additional striking parallels between the First Week of the Exercises and the gathering rites of Eucharist. The first has to do with the cross of Christ, for the cross is prominent at the beginning of both experiences. The retreatant is invited to make a first meditation before the cross; similarly, when we gather for the Eucharist, the entrance procession places the cross at the very beginning of the celebration. There is nothing like the cross of Christ to sharpen our focus, to bring us to the sober reality that relationships have consequences, that the paschal mystery of Jesus' life, death, and rising is what has made it possible to draw near to the throne of grace. And here's a second intriguing possibility with the Eucharist. There is a presidential prayer at the conclu-sion of the entrance rites, another at the preparation of the table and the gifts, and a third after Communion. These are all, essentially, prayers of petition; they each ask for a specific grace that is dependent for its focus on the place of the prayer in the rite. We really could think of these prayers as "preludes" that name and ask for a specific grace as we move from one week to the next, from one part of the Eucharist to the next. For example, the opening prayer for today's liturgy, the Seventeenth Sunday, Year A, from icel's Missal of 1998, reads: God of eternal wisdom, You alone impart the gift of right judgment. Grant us an understanding heart that we may value wisely the treasure of your kingdom Review for Religious Hughes • Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? 14 and gladly forego all lesser gifts to possess that kingdom's incomparable joy. We make our prayer through Our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son Who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit God for ever and ever. Amen.1 What a perfect presidential prayer to open our hearts to the Word of God; what a perfect prelude to move to Week Two of the Exercises. The Second Week and the Liturgy of the Word The parallels between the Second Week of the Exercises and the Liturgy of the Word are easily dis-cernible. Both focus on the scriptures, and both invite decision; both are grounded in the Gospels and in the Mystery who is Christ; both the Spiritual Exercises and the Liturgy of the Word, over time, offer an intimate encounter with Jesus of Nazareth—healing, teaching, sharing meals, welcoming sinners, going about doing good, spending the night in union with his Abba, gath-ering disciples and forming their hearts. We reflect on scripture passages, in retreat as at Mass, one after another, not in order to know the scriptures better but to discover ever more fully the One whom they disclose to us. During the Second Week of the Exercises, like Martha's sister, Mary, the retreatant sits at the feet of Jesus, the teacher, drawn to his person, absorbing his attitudes and values, his choices, his preaching of the dream of God for the world, for humankind, for each of us. The Second Week, of course, is not full only of the consolation of spending time with a dear friend. That 71.1 2012 15 dear friend of ours also reveals to us the cost of dis-cipleship, the misunderstandings, the disappointments, the gathering storm of criticism and anger. We take in the whole of the life of Jesus Christ and are drawn to know him more intimately, to love him more ardently, and to follow him more faithfully. We choose to be dis-ciples of the perfect disciple. Empowered by the love of God experienced in Week One and by Jesus' friendship, which deepens for us in Week Two, we choose an ever closer relationship with him, no matter what. Loved sin-ners become loving servants, embracing and following Jesus, setting our faces, with him, to Jerusalem. It has been written that during the Second Week "We find ourselves drinking in the experiences of Jesus, so that we begin to assimilate his values, his loves, his freedom. This style of praying provides the necessary content of decision-making or discernment, which forms an essential part of the Second Week and is meant to be an abiding part of a Christian's life that is shaped by the Exercises."2 Of course, those statements also describe a regu-lar pattern of solitary prayer in daily life that reaches its summit in the Eucharist. God speaks to our hearts, opening up for us the mystery of redemption and salva-tion and offering us spiritual nourishment; Christ him-self is present in the midst of the community through the Word proclaimed.3 The cycle of readings, highlighting first one evange-list's portrait of Christ and then another's in the three-year cycle, invites our reflection on the life and ministry of Jesus, his proclamation of the Good News, his say-ings and parables, his teachings and miracles, and, espe-cially during Lent and the triduum, how his face was set to Jerusalem during his last days on earth. The Gospel is the highpoint of the Liturgy of the Review for Religious Hughes • Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? 16 Word, and we mark it with various signs of reverence for the book and with the tracing of the cross on our forehead, lips, and breast, praying that our mind be opened, that our words be true, and that our whole being be exposed to the consolation and the challenge of a Gospel way of life. The homily follows. The General Instruction of the Roman Missal describes the homily as a necessary source of nourishment of the Christian life.4 In fact, for a majority of Christians it is often the only source of spir-itual nourishment in a busy week. The Second Week of the Exercises illuminates the challenge to those who give the homily in the Eucharist. The point of the hom-ily is identical to the grace sought in Week Two of the Exercises, namely, to enable the assembly to know Jesus more intimately, to love him more ardently and to follow him more faithfully. Nothing less! Not entertainment. Not exegesis. Not personal self-disclosure. Nothing less than knowing, loving, and following Christ, choosing his choices, becoming gradually and almost imperceptibly more like him, putting on his mind and heart. Just as one chooses discipleship at the end of Week Two, so too there is a choice at the end of the Liturgy of the Word. As we prepare to move from the Table of God's Word to the Table of the Lord's Supper, we join ourselves to Christ and ask that we too be transformed every bit as much as the bread and the wine, that we and they may become for us and for our world the Body and Blood of Christ. The Third Week and the Liturgy of the Eucharist The focus of Week Three is both the Last Supper and the Passion. So, too, these two themes are conflated in the Liturgy of the Eucharist: "the Sacrifice of the 71.1 2012 17 Cross and its sacramental renewal in the Mass, which Christ the Lord instituted at the Last Supper and com-manded the apostles to do in his memory, are one and the same, differing only in the manner of offering, and . . . consequently the Mass is at once a sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving, of propitiation and satisfaction."5 The first meditation of the Exercises in Week Three is on the Last Supper in its entirety—including the preparations, the choice of place, the arrangements for the meal, the assembling in the upper room, Christ's washing of the apostles' feet, the supper itself, Christ's giving of his body and blood in Eucharist as the ultimate expression of his love for them, and his final words, his last will and testament, that they continue this same action in his memory. Much of this finds a resonance in the Liturgy of the Eucharist. There is, of course, first the preparation of the table and the gifts, the preparation of the altar itself and then of the offerings of bread and wine. There is the washing of the hands of the presider, a ritual of cleansing and interior purification in readiness for all that will follow. There is the prayer over the gifts, a simple and focused petition—a second "prelude," if you will, asking in a variety of ways that the gifts we have placed on the table will become holy and that we our-selves will be caught up in this action and be made holy to the praise and glory of God. Then the great prayer of praise and thanksgiving, the Eucharistic Prayer, begins. We tell the story of Jesus' life, death, and rising. We enter into Christ's liturgy, the endless self-giving of Christ into the hands of the One he called Abba, from whom he receives back his life. Our worship is an offering of our whole selves with and in Christ to God. That is our participation in the paschal Review for Religious Hughes • Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? 18 mystery of Christ's obedience unto death, our identifica-tion with Christ in his radical obedience to God. Have you ever used one of the Eucharistic Prayers for your meditation during Week Three? The Eucharistic Prayer is addressed to God the Father. Could we not think of it as a colloquy with the One Jesus called Abba, our own intimate conversation with God, as we ponder the mystery of the Passion? By turns, the Eucharistic Prayer "collo-quy" offers thanksgiving to God for the whole work of salvation realized in Christ; it implores the action of God's transforming Spirit; it tells the story again of the night before Jesus died when he offered his body and blood, gave the apostles to eat and drink, and left them a command to perpetuate this mystery; it recalls the events that fol-lowed the supper, especially the blessed Passion of Christ together with his victory over sin and death; it makes an offering to God not only of the spotless victim but of our-selves so that day by day we might be perfected through Christ the mediator and be brought into unity with God and with each other when God may be all in all.6 It is a perfect prayer; it is a perfect condensed statement of what we believe and what we long for; it is a colloquy, if you will, that gathers up and gives expression to the faith of the community in Jesus' salvific death and rising and our par-ticipation in that mystery. There is no better word at the end of the Eucharistic Prayer, or at the end of our Third Week meditation on the Passion as we dwell in the silence of God, than the word "Amen." So be it. Week Four and the Communion and Concluding Rites We are ready for Week Four—Jesus' resurrection and his apparitions to his mother, to the women, to the disciples, to Mary in the garden. Always the message is 71.1 2012 19 the same: do not be afraid; peace be with you; go now and tell the good news; go now to feed my lambs. And as peace is the gift of the Risen One, we beg that same peace for the whole human family, and we ask for mutual love among ourselves. We approach the table of the Lord and receive the one Bread of Life, which is Christ who died and rose for the salva-tion of the world. Our Communion makes us one with the Risen Christ, and the last presidential prayer, the prayer after Communion, is a final "prelude"—a peti-tion that we might go forth and live, in deed, what we have just done in word and ritual action. "Please make this Communion take!" this prayer seems to beg. We become what we eat. Through the Communions of our lifetime we are gradually being transformed into God. We know that we ourselves and our world have been radically changed by Jesus' resurrection, and we embrace his commission to become the Heart of God on earth. In contemplating the love of God in the conclud-ing exercise of Week Four, we pray an intimate prayer of thanksgiving to the One who has shared his life so completely with us that we are filled with gratitude and with a desire to make a generous return of love. "Take, Lord, receive," we say, and in so doing we express our availability before God for whatever we will face, rely-ing simply and completely on God's grace. We know ourselves as blessed and sent. Thus far I have been developing the ways that the Eucharist and the Spiritual Exercises mirror and some-times illuminate aspects of each other. As a transition to the second part of this reflection, I suggest pausing over the words of the "Anima Christi" using David Fleming's translation. It was David who said that this prayer is a summary of the dynamics of the whole movement Review for Religious Hughes • Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? 20 of the Exercises, and he also described the prayer as a summary of the transformation wrought through the Eucharist. Jesus, may all that is you flow into me. May your body and blood be my food and drink. May your passion and death be my strength and life. Jesus, with you by my side enough has been given. May the shelter I seek be the shadow of your cross. Let me not run from the love which you offer, but hold me safe from the forces of evil. On each of my dyings shed your light and your love. Keep calling to me until that day comes, when, with your saints, I may praise you forever. Amen.7 Part II: Living the Eucharist David Fleming also called the "Anima Christi" a summary of the living of the Fourth Week in the everyday, so it is to that topic we turn, the living of the Eucharist. Many years ago I read a book by Gregory Dix called The Shape of the Liturgy, a very long, very erudite history of the Eucharist by an Anglican clergyman and liturgi-cal scholar. At the conclusion, around page seven hun-dred something, the author shifts from liturgical history, archeology, and philology to spirituality. He quotes the words of Jesus at the Last Supper, "Do this in memory of me," and then poses an intriguing question: Was ever another command so obeyed? Dix paints an extraordinary picture: Century after century, spreading slowly to every continent and country, to every race on earth, this action of Eucharist has been carried out in every conceivable human circumstance and for every conceivable human need, from the heights of 71.1 2012 21 power to places of poverty and need, for royalty at their crowning and for criminals going to the scaffold, for a bride and bridegroom in a little country church, for the wisdom for the Parliament of a mighty nation, for a sick old woman afraid to die, for Columbus setting out to discover the New World, for a barren couple hoping for a child, by an old monk on the fiftieth anniversary of his vows, and on and on. Dix lyrically enumerates these and scores of other instances in which the Christian com-munity has been faithful to Jesus' command, "Do this."8 Over the centuries the Eucharist has been celebrated by innumerable millions of entirely obscure faithful women and men like you and me, people with hopes and fears and joys and sorrows and sins and temptations and prayers every bit as vivid and alive as yours and mine are now. Week by week, on a hundred thousand succes-sive Sundays, faithfully, unfailingly, the followers of Jesus have done just this for the remembrance of him.9 This is an extraordinary picture of the sacrament that constitutes the community, of the event that binds us together, one with another and with Christians of every age, place, race, tongue, and way of life. The Eucharist has been like a wave of grace rolling over the community again and again across the centuries of Christendom, hollowing out spaces for the divine in the midst of the everyday. Was ever another command so obeyed? But after pondering Dix, I realized that when I con-sidered that Last Supper of Jesus and his friends, there was another question on my mind. When Jesus said "do this in remembrance of me," what did he mean by the this? Surely not just the Jewish pattern of the meal, though we know a lot about Jewish rituals, the blessing of bread, the number of cups, the style of blessing said over both. Surely the this is something more. What are Review for Religious Hughes • Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? 22 we being asked to do? to be? to embrace? to celebrate? What commitment do we make when we say "Amen"? Scripture supplies two directions toward an answer: one in the Synoptic accounts of the supper and Paul's First Letter to the Corinthians, and the other in the Gospel of John. Recall the words of Paul describing the Last Supper: I received from the Lord what I also delivered to you, that the Lord Jesus on the night when he was betrayed took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it, and said, "This is my body which is for you. Do this in remembrance of me." In the same way also the cup, after supper, saying, "This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me" (1 Cor 11:23-25). Do this in remembrance of me. But what is the this? Have you ever considered that the Last Supper was precisely that—it was the last. The Last Supper was the last of a whole series of Jesus' meals recorded in the Scriptures. Jesus never played the pious ascetic, keep-ing away from celebrations. He loved a good feast. He used that image of feasting as a metaphor of the reign of God—a great banquet. It was said of him, "This man is a glutton and a drunkard." An even more shocking accusa-tion was whispered behind his back: "This man sits down at table with sinners, with the morally dubious, with the outcasts of society, with those living on the fringes." On nearly every page of the Gospels there is a meal or a reference to food. Jesus calls out to Zacchaeus, "Get down from that tree. I'm coming to your house for What commitment do we make when we say "Amen"? 71.1 2012 23 lunch." There is the story of Simon who threw a din-ner party but was an inattentive host, and of the woman who slipped in to minister to Jesus as he sat at Simon's table. There is the story of Peter's mother-in-law who is cured only to get up and wait on them. There is the Syrophoenician woman who would not take no for an answer, who spoke about crumbs that fell from the table and who expected—and received—more than crumbs from this man. There are the feeding miracles that tell us something of the utter lavishness of the banquet and that everyone will receive enough and there will still be something left over for another day. There are parables of feasts, of great abundance, of jockeying for places at table, of appropriate attire, of filling the room with those drawn from the highways and the byways. Even the risen appearances of Jesus include meals. "Peace be with you," Jesus says. "What's for dinner?" On the shore, in the upper room, on the way to Emmaus, they recognize him in the breaking of the bread. How do you recognize someone? Even at a distance, you rec-ognize the timbre of a voice, or a particular gesture, or the slight tilt of the head so characteristic of an indi-vidual. The disciples recognized Jesus for what was most characteristic of him: the way he broke the bread. What is the this that we are to replicate? It is the whole life and ministry of Jesus at table. Scripture scholars refer to this as Jesus' ministry of table fellow-ship. To share food, in Semitic times, was to share life itself. And Jesus shared life with an astonishing assort-ment of people. Everyone was welcome to sit with him at table, to tell stories and to break the bread. Jesus' ministry of table fellowship is a ministry of universal reconciliation, no exceptions. The Last Supper reca-pitulated the attitudes and values of Jesus, who opened Review for Religious Hughes • Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? 24 his table and his heart to everyone, who offered hospi-tality to all, who was himself at home with all manner of people, who knew the human need for nourishment of body, mind, and spirit and who was always present to the other—welcoming, reconciling, offering life. Do this in memory of me. The Gospel of John offers a second answer to the question "What is the this?" In John there is a very dif-ferent institution narrative. It is the account of the foot washing. We know the story so well. Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going to God, rose from supper, laid aside his garments, and girded himself with a towel. He poured water into a basin, and began to wash the disciples' feet, and to wipe them with the towel. Peter resisted this tenderness until Jesus pressed: "If I do not wash you, you have no part with me." Peter relented in typical Peter fashion: "Not my feet only but also my hands and my head!" When Jesus had com-pleted the washing and resumed his place, he said to them, "Do you know what I have done to you? You call me Teacher and Lord; and you are right, for so I am. If I then, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another's feet. For I have given you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you" (Cf. Jn 13:1-15). You should do as I have done. In other words, "Do this in memory of me." I had an experience when I was studying at the University of Notre Dame that colors my understand-ing of the washing of the feet after the manner of Jesus. Notre Dame has a reputation for the excellence of its liturgical studies program and, at least when I was there, for the perfection of its liturgical celebrations: every 71.1 2012 25 minister rehearsed; every detail on a checklist; every liturgy perfect. And, during the sacred triduum, the lit-urgies were even more perfect! It was Holy Thursday and time for the foot washing. Twelve people moved forward, probably having prepared for the foot wash-ing by carefully washing their feet! Then, seemingly from nowhere, a very unkempt man started up the aisle, staggering a bit, perhaps under the weather. It was one of those stunning moments. Time stood still. Then the deacon walked down the aisle to help the man for-ward and assist him in taking off his shoes and socks. What is the this? Tender and loving care for the other; accepting our mutual vulnerabilities; choosing to open our hearts to all, even the one staggering into our life and upsetting its plans and perfections. Foot washing is not just a way of life but an attitude of heart, a kneeling before the other in reverence. Foot washing is embrac-ing a way of service after the manner of Jesus, simply, generously, not counting the cost. Do this: Embrace my attitudes and values as your own. Love those I love, and be my heart to them. Welcome the stranger, the one on the margins, the disenfranchised. Become vulnerable with one another. Kneel in reverence, especially before those whom soci-ety shuns. Nourish one another's bodies and spirits. Rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep, both here at home and half a world away— those in Norway who are paralyzed by a massacre they Foot washing is not just a way of life but an attitude of heart, a kneeling before the other in reverence Review for Religious Hughes • Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? 26 could never have imagined, those who are starving from the drought in Africa, those who are terrified of nuclear contamination in Japan, those who are caught up in trafficking around the globe or denied asylum here at home, those who have lost the ones they love and all they owned in fire, flood, tornado, or earthquake. Make a habit of roaming the globe in prayer so that you do not remain distant from the joys and pain of the world. Send those waves of grace once again across continents and cultures to bathe our world in the love and mercy of Eucharist. Do this in memory of me. Conclusion Week Three invites us to experience the Last Supper, to place ourselves there in the upper room, to look around at the faces, to listen to the words, to pon-der them in our hearts as we watch the immense tender-ness of the Lord with those he loved even to the end, whose hearts he was tutoring even on the night before he died. And we have stayed with him, watched and prayed with him, and accompanied him as he gave up his life. Then we have simply dwelt in silence. That same intimacy and presence to one another marks Week Four, a time of tenderness and affection with the risen Jesus who shares his love and his joy with us but does not let us cling to him. He sends us as apostles, empowered by his Spirit, to continue his sav-ing presence, to be his heart on earth. And day by day, week by week, the Eucharist con-tinues to draw us into these mysteries. The heart of the Eucharist is Jesus Christ. The heart of it is the cel-ebration of Jesus' life, death, and rising every time we gather—and the merging of our daily living and dying with his and with one another—for the life of the world. 71.1 2012 27 The heart of it is joining ourselves to Christ, the perfect sacrifice, to the praise and glory of God. The heart of it is begging that the Spirit will transform each one of us just as really as the bread and wine so that we become more and more Christ's Body in truth, not just in name. The heart of it is learning over and over again to say "Amen" to all of these realities and—at least some-times— actually meaning it. Meaning "Amen," meaning yes I will try to live, in deed, in the coming days, what we have just enacted in word and ritual action. I conclude with a favorite reflection of mine on the word "Amen." Be careful of simple words said often. "Amen" makes demands like an unrelenting schoolmaster: fierce attention to all that is said; no apathy, no preoccupation, no prejudice permitted. "Amen": We are present. We are open. We hearken. We understand. Here we are; we are listening to your word. "Amen" makes demands like a signature on a dotted line: sober bond to all that goes before; no hesitation, no half-heartedness, no mental reservation allowed. "Amen": We support. We approve. We are of one mind. We promise. May this come to pass. So be it. Be careful when you say "Amen."10 Notes 1 Cf. Sunday Celebration of the Word and Hours (Ottawa: Canadian Conference of Catholic Bishops, 1995). This book contains the Sunday collects prepared by the International Committee on English in the Liturgy for the Missal of 1998, since withdrawn. Review for Religious Hughes • Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? 28 2 David L. Fleming sj, "The Ignatian Spiritual Exercises: Understanding a Dynamic," in Notes on the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius of Loyola (St. Louis: Review for Religious, 1981) 11. 3 General Instruction of the Roman Missal, 2003, §29, paraphrase. 4 GIRM, § 65. 5 GIRM, § 9. 6 GIRM, § 79. 7 David L. Fleming sj, The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius. A Literal Translation and a Contemporary Reading. (St. Louis: The Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1978) 3. 8 Gregory Dix, The Shape of the Liturgy (London: Dacre Press, 1945) 744-5, passim. 9 Ibid. paraphrase. 10 Barbara Schmich Searle, "Ritual Dialogue," Assembly 7:3, February, 1981. Obedience You have had my yes for years– and I have had yours since the sun, the seashells, and the storms at sea. But now, ah . . . you and I are more than yes. As time moves with, within, and around, this yes of ours takes on wings, takes on colors I never imagined, challenges that strengthen and soften me, glory that stills me, stirs me, extends and opens me. It becomes a murmur of love that we share. Love that frees me and compels me to choose you again and yet again . . . that I might respond as I wish to respond . . . openly, knowingly, even a little mysteriously . . . as the bush in the desert responded to flame. Kimberly M. King rscj 71.1 2012 ronald mercier 29 Without the Drama: The Transition from Third to Fourth Week of the Spiritual Exercises S travinsky's "Rite of Spring" caused a furor when it was first performed in 1913, but the more I listen to it, the more I think it expresses something important, and not only from a musical point of view. At the tail end of the piece, the "Sacrifice," Stravinsky tries to cap-ture the human spirit in its "pagan"—pure—form. You might want to find a recording of it and play it before you read further. Cacophony—there's no other way to describe it! Bad sound. It assaults the senses. It builds to a crescendo and with the violence of spirit that leads to the sacrifice of a human, a woman who dances herself to death for the Ronald Mercier sj is associate professor of theology at Saint Louis University and rector of the community where Jesuit scholastics pursue the study of philosophy and theology. This article was originally given as a keynote presentation at Ignatian Spirituality Conference V on July 22, 2011, in St. Louis, Missouri. Comments can be addressed to him at Bellarmine House of Studies; 3737 Westminster Place; St. Louis, Missouri 63108. Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 30 sake of the community. It is violence that can kill and wound and send to hell, to use Ignatius's words from the Incarnation meditation. In the ballet that goes with the music, there is a frenetic dance that is almost a form of madness. No wonder people were so challenged by the music; this is not about some nice ethereal enjoyment, but is a revelation of what can shape the human heart and actions. This revelation opens to our fears but not to our hopes. Curiously, the music ends with a bang, a loud discor-dant chord that leaves us waiting for something more. We would like some kind of resolution at this point, but we are left with utter silence after that dramatic end. We wait, but the music just ends. Or does it? For me, this piece leads to a reflection on the transition from the Third to the Fourth Week in the Ignatian Exercises, a movement out of a murderous drama into a disorienting grand silence within which the Fourth Week dawns. I would like to invite you to sit with Ignatius in what we would name "Holy Saturday," a place he sketches as the space for contemplation within which we experience Resurrection. My thesis is simple: Without the grand silence of Holy Saturday, the "seventh day" for Ignatius, we do not experience the joy and freedom of the Fourth Week. Waiting in the transition—a transition into, not out of, emptiness—allows for creation of the space into which the Risen Lord comes, if we let the quiet ripen. The music of Stravinsky captures the movement of the Third Week, a drama of human making. We walk with Jesus as he experiences being sacrificed for "the good of the people." Curiously, Ignatius invites us to experience the Passion, but he does not describe the gore that would have been standard fare in the spiritual-ity of his time. No doubt he assumed that people knew 71.1 2012 31 the specifics of the passion, crucifixion, and death from the religious imagination of his time. I wonder, though, whether that is all. It strikes me that we are invited into two spaces: the fullness of the world upon which the Trinity gazes in the Incarnation mediation, but also the reality of the Trinity's desire effected through what happens in these moments. In this transition, we fulfill the movement of the Incarnation meditation. Ignatius certainly invites us to "consider what Christ our Lord suffers in His human nature . . . [and] to strive to grieve, be sad, and weep" (SpEx §195). We "must be with the Lord in his suffering, [and] follow him unto his death," lest we be "simply spectators at a Passion event which may be very touching, but which in no way dis-turbs the egotism of our lives,"1 as Gilles Cusson so nicely puts it. We experience with Jesus what human egotism can do, the dramatic clash that seeks sacrifice to maintain some order. Ignatius's contemplation of the Passion has little to do with Mel Gibson's hero worship; we con-template one who embraces utter powerlessness, not "muscular humanity." Yet, Cusson also says that we need to attend to Ignatius's Fifth Point, "how the divinity hides itself; . . . it could destroy . . . but does not do so" (SpEx §196). What is God about in Christ? What goes beyond the "work of our hands," the murderous sacrifice, and actu-ally effects the will of the Trinity? Is God violent? Is We contemplate one who embraces utter powerlessness, not "muscular humanity." Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 32 this the "divinity [who] hides"? Or is the violent god our god? What occurs when our dramatic violence ends? For me, personally and as a director, this question is never academic. The temptation to remain specta-tors or to wonder at the horrors of the Passion—and so to remain distant from it and from the Resurrection— always presents itself as a path of light, as "really feeling bad" for Jesus, and perhaps knowing real (even mur-derous) anger toward those who create perverse tor-tures for him. The experi-ence of the Fourth Week then somehow appears too remote, not surprisingly, and not only because by that time we know the exhaustion of having given ourselves so radically to prayer. But if we remain spectators of the Passion, what also becomes remote is the real joy of the Fourth Week, a joy so different from the transient happiness that we may whip up but never suffices for the long-term journey. And the Fourth Week is really for the long haul, not transient at all. What alternative remains? Consider for a moment where Ignatius leads us. As he did in the contemplation on the Incarnation, he places us with the work of the Trinity and with Mary. This gives us our transition point and deserves some pause. Notice how he frames our prayer at the end of the week, the time of transition: One should consider as frequently as possible . . . that the most Sacred Body of Christ our Lord remained If we remain spectators of the Passion, what also becomes remote is the real joy of the Fourth Week. 71.1 2012 33 separated from the soul, and the place and manner of his burial. Let [the exercitant] consider, likewise, the desolation of our Lady, her great sorrow and weariness, and also that of the disciples (SpEx §208, Seventh Day). Two dimensions frame the time after the death of Jesus on the cross, two movements that invite us into a depth within which resurrection happens: the experi-ence of death in Jesus and its impact on those (like us) who love him. Resurrection, Cusson rightly suggests, never becomes a topic for consideration, but encounters us in and through the one whom we love and who has conquered death, a "confirmation from above surpass-ing all human hope."2 Let us stay, though, for a moment with the two aspects Ignatius gives us not so much as a conclusion to the Third Week as the door through which the Third Week becomes, or opens to, the Fourth Week. We have in the Christian tradition a powerful sense that the Paschal Mystery—the death, coming to the dead, and Resurrection of the Lord—never constitutes the past, something complete and over, but, rather, remains the context of our lives, the place of our ministries, the space within which joy dawns for us and for all who know the Risen Lord. Two things, then, shape this contemplation, which really becomes the shape of "the seventh day," a con-templation of the Passion as a whole. First, Ignatius begs us to consider the fullness of the death of Jesus because, without an experience of that fullness, we really cannot complete the journey of the Third Week (and of the Incarnation) or comprehend the fullness of the ways in which Jesus' ministry touches and shapes our lives and our world. We need to ponder, prayerfully, what it Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 34 means for Jesus to "remain separated from his soul," to know death, not just to "be killed." Let me suggest that this consideration never rep-resents some thought exercise or parlor game. In our culture we often trivialize death and, in fact, avoid the topic completely or paper it over with euphemisms. We do not say that people die, but that they "pass away." We make the reality so antiseptic, so unreal, that we actually generate a fear of death that drives us even to try to con-trol it, like some unruly passion. Humans have always feared death, as the social critic Ernst Becker makes clear. In our modern North American culture, though, we have created a kind of nightmare; we rarely encoun-ter the reality of someone's dying. Even worse, people have to die not freely as Jesus did, but alone, caught up in our medicalized model. Alternatively, we can make death into a mere video game: how many can we kill? By contrast, Ignatius invites us to a thoroughgoing realism. In Jesus' death, we contemplate the fullness of his human death, freely embraced for us, the fullness of the trajectory of the Incarnation. We are invited to consider especially his embrace of abandonment. Hans Urs von Balthasar, the great Swiss theologian and pro-foundly Ignatian thinker, asks us to ponder just what this means, as a path toward hope: The Redeemer showed himself therefore as the only one who, going beyond the general experience of death, was able to measure the depths of that abyss.3 Think about that with me for just a moment. For Balthasar (and here he places himself in the whole strand of Christian mystics) we desire to shield our-selves from death. We may have "the general experience of death," but we seek to hold it at bay, often at great cost. No one wants to die, of course, and from time 71.1 2012 35 immemorial we have created lovely myths of "afterlife" as ways of avoiding the fullness of what we would expe-rience in death, so that we do not really die. Instead, Ignatius invites us, in the wake of the cry by which Jesus freely gives up his spirit and accepts death, to consider what it would mean for someone freely and fully to enter into the realm of Hades, of Sheol, in which, as the psalmist says, "no one can praise You." In Jesus, God goes fully to claim the reality of human death and dying as God's very own. Balthasar uses the image of the abyss—a wonderful image—for this. We need to ponder, not morosely but in faith, the full tra-jectory of the Third Week. Ignatius places us there and asks that during the Seventh Day—however long it might be—we continually call that reality to mind and keep it before us. He invites us there in place of repetitions or Applications of the Senses, because in pon-dering the fullness of the death of Jesus, in letting it "ripen to fullness," as it were, we begin to grasp the fullness of what it means that he dies for our sake, that he goes where we would not go. If, as David Fleming, John Futrell, John English and many others suggest, the Last Supper sets the tone for the Third Week, here we know what it means to "be broken and poured out," even to the fullness of death itself. We have been praying for the grace of freedom throughout the Exercises, and in a sense here we encounter freedom in its fullness. Balthasar notes what freedom—in its purest form, free from all stain of sin—would mean: "And precisely in that did his mortal anguish and God-abandonment differ radically from the habitual anxiety of the sinner." 4 Jesus freely—and with-out defense—walks the way ahead of us, embraces our path. Jesus claims the fullness of death as a space within Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 36 which to meet us—thus, the implication of the seventh-day exercise. We can—and do—often hurry by the real-ity, or simply marvel at the wreck of a corpse in the Pietà. Ignatius, according to Balthasar, invites us to let death be full, that we might know freedom with Christ, freedom for our mission ultimately, freedom to love "even to death itself." No masochism or delectatio morosa marks this moment, but only a profound invitation to explore what we fear with the One who has gone the way before us. For Ignatius, that remains key. If Resurrection cannot grasp the fullness of what death means, if it can-not meet us in the anxiety that would hold us bound and create the kind of craziness that marks our death-obsessed culture, it remains but a "nice idea," easily dis-pensed with, perhaps. For Balthasar, Jesus delves into death as abandonment, freely, without losing hope, but relying completely on the God who alone can overcome death. Imagine "separation of soul and body" in its totality, without the experience of Resurrection that often shields us. Jesus embraces that. This descent remains but part of the story for Ignatius, since he invites us to place ourselves with Mary and the disciples in their desolation—an impor-tant context. The imagery of that placement reveals a deliberate quality in two ways: it prepares us to encoun-ter the Risen Lord and accept our mission. In one sense, of course, we explore the same space as previously, explore what it means for Jesus to have died—but now from the perspectives of those left behind. Again, Ignatius invites us to contemplate with Mary—and to some extent with Mary Magdalene—to share space and time with women who also embrace the "empty space" without defense, freely. The sinlessness of Mary parallels Jesus' own condition, and invites us 71.1 2012 37 to imagine how she, whose heart knew only openness, would experience the "separation" of soul from body. In her once again, Ignatius asks us to confront death as death, in its fullness in Jesus, in one whom we pas-sionately love. While I will focus on the encounter with Mary, the mother of Jesus, as a basic form of the Resurrection con-templations, I do not mean to suggest that one must force people to engage that path. Eventually the pattern of the Exercises does lead us there, but as John English suggests in Spiritual Freedom,5 a directee may find it difficult to enter into the purity of Mary's openness to encounter the Risen Lord; a person may find more fruitful prayer with the grief of Mary Magdalene, or the guilt of Simon Peter, or others. Still, the fullness of that openness to the Risen Lord brings us back to the full "yes" of Mary, mother of Jesus, as a paradigm of freedom. We have probably all known a parent who has lost a beloved child. As I write this I cannot help but think of the parents of a young Chinese student who failed at university and chose suicide in the face of despair. I cannot begin to imagine the grief of soul such a moment would entail for those parents; nor can I imagine the added burden of feeling guilt for having laid on a child expectations that he could not fulfill. That empty space of a dead child shocks us; "it should not happen," we say quite rightly. Parents should die before their children do. The empty space becomes almost too much to take in, though with Michelangelo's Pietà we catch a glimpse of how a face might appear when gazing on that emptiness. Yet, for the director at this point in the Exercises, especially in the face of what happens in the transition, an important distinction remains. Monty Williams, in a work in progress that he shared with me, advises that we Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 38 note two different paths as one encounters fear, notably the fear of death. There are two ways of being present to our fears. We could look at them and wonder how we can be so stupid, and then make the plans . . . to ensure those mistakes never happen again. . . . The other way . . . is to experience the amazement. . . . The more we ponder . . . it, the more we are filled with a sense of wonder—which gives no answer. That wonder, that sense of amazement, is our first awareness of the presence of God in the space we have created by looking at our fears. As Williams frames it, two choices remain. We can panic and move into flight or analysis or simply an excess of emotions to make us feel better. Or we can be attentive, in the face of such fears, to an empty space without answers—a much harder place to be. When Ignatius invites us to contemplate, to recall Mary, all of those spaces we have known in the Second Week come to mind. Mary remains for us always the one who attends, who does not withdraw, even in the face of the horror of the slaughter of the innocents, but who pon-ders. The path of our entry into the Seventh Day parallels Mary's path, and a director looks at whether the exerci-tant gets caught up in his or her own pain or can ponder the empty space with Mary—that dreadful emptiness the church hints at in stripped altars and empty tabernacles after the Good Friday service. With Mary, we hear the invitation in freedom to know our beloved Jesus as dead. A terrible space, but not a maudlin one! We hear the call to compassion, to attentiveness, to let an empty space open. In essence, Michelangelo's Pietà invites us not to wild grieving but to face the reality of Mary holding her dead son. Attentiveness is a state of waiting, but for what? 71.1 2012 39 I can't help but remember Mary Oliver's powerful poem "The Uses of Sorrow," which captures so much of what I think Ignatius presents to us in constructing a place for prayer: (In my sleep I dreamed this poem) Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this, too, was a gift.6 The poem admirably catches the difference between panic/analysis and attentiveness as ways of responding to the human—and here divine—reality of death. For us the path takes time; Ignatius invites us on the seventh day to recall this to mind again and again, but the full process may well be the journey of our lives and our dying. However, contemplating the loss of Jesus is but one dimension. With Mary—and with the disciples—we are invited to ponder the world in which, as Cleopas said, "we had hoped" but which is now a space of desolation. We face the fullness of what Ignatius means when he invites the retreatant to see and consider the Three Divine Persons. . . . They look down upon the whole surface of the earth and behold all nations in great blindness, going down to death and descending into hell (SpEx §106). The reality of human violence is seen in its full-ness in this moment, especially when, with the disciples, we see that violence is also part of their lives—in their abandoning their Master. With Mary and them, the full brutality of violence in the name of God, yet murder-ous of God, comes home to us in all its savagery. No doubt they had seen or heard of crucifixion before. This Roman "tool" helped maintain fear in the populace by destroying its memory of the one killed, lest anyone else Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 40 attempt to do what the crucified one had done. We can all rationalize human cruelty to suit our purposes. Here, though, their Master, Lord, Mentor, the one who healed, raised from the dead, preached Good News—the one they loved—becomes the victim of such cruelty. With him, the hope he had proclaimed also becomes a victim, exactly as the Romans would have desired. Hope is too dangerous a drug to a people fac-ing death. Is the reality of what Cleopas proclaimed— that "we had hoped"—also dead? With Mary and the disciples, we gaze on the empty space in the wake of the cross, and we know the dying of our hopes, of the ways in which all of our plans and expectations go to the cross with Jesus. Our history, our world, hangs in that balance. As director, how often have I sat with people who, in the wake of Jesus' death and burial, have to encounter again their own history of violence—received, experienced in others, commit-ted! The call to attentiveness in this space where our wounded history is made so evident places the past and the future in the balance. If in the first movement with Jesus and Mary we know the fear before death, in this second movement perhaps we face the fear of living in a world mediated by violence, a violence that we can usually hold at bay or ignore by switching the televi-sion channel. Yet, in this transition place, we face the brokenness and "poured-out" quality of our world, and we hear the call not to stronger forms of violence or retribution but to attend in that quiet space and know the fullness of a hope that might have died too. So many people live in this space. It is not theoretical. So, for me, the power of Stravinsky's piece, build-ing to that awful crescendo, that cacophony of death, followed by nothing, silence, lies in wanting some reso- 71.1 2012 41 lution other than the sacrifice. He captures well what those first disciples must have been going through on their "seventh day," after the terrible dramatics of human violence, cruelty, power; now Mary and the others know an empty silence made all the more desolate by what had come before. Building better plans, creating monu-ments, assigning guilt or blame—all of these would have tempered the grief. Instead, we hear the invitation to silence, to attentiveness. It may be that real forgiveness, hope, and resurrection can occur only in such silence. Ignatius places us before those realities that so easily move us away from attentiveness—fear of death and fear of violence or rejection—as a space within which some-thing very different—freedom—can arise. This experience could well represent a kind of "downer" for us, but need it be so? The sense of the deaths we experience—whether the physical death that Jesus freely embraces or the death of our illusions about the world and our patterns of dealing with it—create, as it were, a wasteland, an emptiness before which we stand and pray with Mary and the disciples. Its all-encompassing nature seeks to enlarge our freedom by placing before us our fears. Facing the wasteland yields fruit not in darkness or desolation (though we do indeed pass through these) but, as Antonio Valentino noted in a Directory written in the first generation after the death of Ignatius, aims at perfection in prayer and work, holding always God before one's eyes with gentleness and consistency, and remembering God whenever we think, speak or act.7 If we are moving toward the Contemplatio here as a mode of engaging the world, then this transition that "clears the ground" can yield an abundant harvest. We are left waiting for God's action—not ours. Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 42 I do not use the imagery of "clearing ground" acci-dentally. I find myself touched by the way in which one deals with one sweep of contemplation, which clears, seeds, and bears fruit in ever deeper ways. Think through with me the extraordinary introduction to the Fourth Week that piggybacks on what we have seen. As Cusson mentions, when Ignatius presents the medita-tion on the first resurrection appearance (SpEx §299), he offers a first point, nothing else; the simplicity of the perspective shines through: "He appeared to the Virgin Mary." Ignatius sees no need for second or third points, as are given in all the other meditations. It is a unique tableau.8 Ignatius does complete the sweep from where we have been: His soul, likewise united with the divinity, descended into hell. There he sets free the souls of the just, then comes to the sepulcher, and rising appears in body and soul to His Blessed Mother (SpEx §219). We have before us the same matter as in the con-templations on "the seventh day" of the Third Week; the setting does not change. What happens arises from within where we find ourselves as we attend to the empty space at the end of the Third Week. Our entry into the Fourth Week comes not because we will our-selves to joy. Rather, in the space that death and vio-lence have laid waste, Resurrection dawns like light and, with it, love, joy, and hope as the fruit. We do not change spaces for Resurrection, for the Fourth Week; rather, we extend the Third until it bears fruit. As director, I cannot overemphasize how hard it is to keep people focused at this point; exhaustion has set in. The Fourth Week regularly gets short shrift, as does Resurrection in so much of Christian life; yet, as I pray with the transition from Third to Fourth Week, I 71.1 2012 43 realize how crucial that transition point is to our ability to be in and to serve a broken but risen world. Ignatius leads us to the "hell" which Jesus has entered freely and fully, with all those who have gone before—and with us eventually—and then moves to Mary, in her home and oratory, exactly the order that repeats the end of the Third Week. I would like to move in three points—Jesus' apparition to Mary, Jesus' rising "from the dead," and the gift of joy to a world that killed and can kill still. They are related, but quite distinct too. Think of how redolent Jesus' apparition is for Mary. Ignatius does not describe it much, except for a clear allusion. He asks us to "see the arrangement of . . . the place or house of our Lady. I will note its different parts, and also her room, her ora-tory, etc." (SpEx §220). In §103 we were asked "especially to see the house and room of our Lady." The parallelism is almost exact, and, of course, David Fleming in Like the Lightning alludes to the Annunciation contemplation.9 This is not pious drivel, as some are tempted to say; this really is a new Annunciation, but one that asks Mary—and us—to go on mission for the Trinity with the Risen Lord. After all the Sturm und Drang of the Third Week— the drama of our human violence and blood-lust, even the drama of the Last Supper that begins the Third This really is a new Annunciation, but one that asks Mary—and us— to go on mission for the Trinity with the Risen Lord. Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 44 Week—this dawn of the Fourth Week, of a new world, is so undra-matic. Mel Gibson would have a difficult time with it. We would be tempted to make it dramatic, and certainly the Miraflores altar-piece does so, with Jesus showing his wounds and with Mary por-trayed as quite the medieval lady. Ignatius's description, though, is so different. Certainly, as he notes in the fourth point, the "divinity here manifests itself so miraculously," though in the fifth point the man-ifestation is as the consoler, the one who brings joy in the glory of the Resurrection. What are we to make of the apparition as "con-soler"? By the way, Ignatius gives only this contemplation in the Fourth Week, though we find a number of other texts arranged from §299-312 (in the section on the Mysteries of Christ's Life), with an ever wider circle of people let in on the Resurrection. In the Fourth Week itself, one contemplation alone pre-cedes the Contemplatio, again with Mary. If we take a step back, Mary represents the free per-son who has tasted the fullness of the passage of Jesus, both into death and at the hands of a broken, murderous world. If the darkness that John evokes in the Gospel stands as a hallmark of the Passion, Mary knows that darkness fully. As we wait with her, we hear the invita-tion to know that darkness, to let our own hopes and dreams die, to recognize the fullness of what death, as God-forsakenness, means. Mary roots us in a barren 71.1 2012 45 landscape without familiar landmarks. Stark—not dra-matic. Quiet. As long as we cling to our own artifacts, the land remains cluttered, and we are unable to receive. In essence, Mary descends into a kind of hell as well, the fullness of the First Week's hell, which is not of her doing, but which is the fruit of the world we have created. The more I ponder and pray with these texts, however, the more they strike me as a new "Incarnation," but with a different order and intent. In the Incarnation medita-tion, we move from the work of God, who ponders the broken, murderous world and chooses to enter it, invit-ing Mary—and us—to share in the work of the Trinity here now. With Mary we have been placed in a God-less world, the fullness of hell. We gaze, we ponder with her, in the freedom of those who have elected to follow Jesus. Mary—and we—know what God's heart would have felt in the acute desire to set people free. We now move from the order of "this world" to an encounter with the Trinity as we know the fullness of the desire of the Trinity in the Incarnation prayer, now effected by the Risen Lord. Again, I want to stress the point: Ignatius places us with Mary as the archetype of the person of the Exercises, the free person. While in later contempla-tions we are indeed shown the rest of the Gospel story, here he asks us to share in the fullness of what freedom The Apparition to Mary Reverses the order of the Incarnation meditation From the Trinity To a Broken World To revelation of the Trinity From a Broken World Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 46 means, freedom at the intersection of our engagement with a broken world, and we wonder at the dawning of a world shot through with Resurrection. The transition of this time represents not a movement from Third Week to Fourth Week, as if we could leave the former behind as just a bad memory; rather, the transition is the on-going space of discipleship. We, like Mary, remain in a broken world, but the transition into the Fourth Week recasts the meaning of the world in a dramatic way, so that we can accept the call to serve a world still broken. Contemplation constitutes the basic hallmark of this freedom; the encounter with the Risen Lord that Ignatius sketches out occurs as an offer of new life in the midst of the contemplation of the fullness of death and sinful violence. These two elements of death and life form a diptych, as it were, for our lives and our prayer. We encounter here not merely the Risen Lord but, with Mary, the pattern of what we shall know as we await that ultimate coming of Christ to the world, and we receive a mission to act upon hope. Into that space, the risen Lord comes, not just as resuscitated—"I'm back"—but as a living proclamation of a new world, God's plan for the ultimate healing and completion of the world God so loves. From the broken world, we encounter the divinity made flesh again for us, but now glorified and risen. If Christ performs "the office of the consoler," as Ignatius says, this consolation does not simply cause a "feeling good" or even a happi-ness, but a revelation of a new world and the empower-ing invitation to dwell in that new world and extend it through time and space. That power is "joy." Joy in this case is not an affect, or even a spiri-tual movement, for Ignatius. In fact, he distinguishes between the two realities: 71.1 2012 47 as soon as I awake [I will] place before my mind the contemplation I am to enter upon, and then . . . strive to feel joy and happiness at the great joy and happi-ness of Christ our Lord (SpEx §229). Happiness we know as an affective movement, a passing reality; we feel happy when we experience cer-tain realities. We can know happiness but still be alien to joy, since happiness comes and goes, depending on the experience we feel. Happiness has an object, and in this case Ignatius does want us to evoke within ourselves the experience of happiness; the encounter becomes the cause of our happiness. Joy, however, pertains to a very different reality. Joy—and this is Christ's joy, of course, a gift of the Holy Spirit—intends not a movement of the heart, a feel-ing, but a disposition, a way of being; it is the hallmark of those who have encountered the risen Lord in the midst of surrounding darkness. Joy makes possible the freedom to go on mission into the Fourth Week—our ordinary time. That light dawns in the Resurrection, not apart from but in the midst of the darkness which Mary—and we—have known. G.K. Chesterton's lament about "joyless Christians" captures something very important here: Christianity satisfies suddenly and perfectly man's [sic] ancestral instinct for being the right way up; satisfies it supremely in this; that by its creed joy becomes something gigantic and sadness something special and small. The vault above us is not deaf because the universe is an idiot; the silence is not the heartless silence of an endless and aimless world.10 The joy we experience in the presence of the Risen Lord does not suddenly wipe away the reality of the grief we know at the experience of the brokenness of Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 48 the world and its impact on the vulnerable; rather, such joy places it all in context, allows us to see the world as it is, in the context of God's proclamation of new life and hope in Christ. The way Ignatius ends the Exercises with Mary and this twofold contempla-tion seems to suggest that this joy becomes our "new normal," what God intended in creation and effects through the Incarnation, ministry, and Passover of the Word. We often emphasize the continuity/discontinuity of the Risen Jesus; he is like but different. But is it not really also the world which is continuous/discontinu-ous? In a great line from "Lion in Winter," Eleanor of Aquitaine says, "In a world where carpenters get resur-rected, everything is possible." Exactly—and such is our hope and the cause of our joy. As contemplatives moved to action, we in the Ignatian tradition live in the intersection of the two parts of the diptych, of Holy Saturday and Easter, but with joy as the hinge, something into which we grow. The encounter with the Risen Lord in the midst of a broken world becomes the reality of our lives and a point of conversion into this "new world." In that respect, we are unlike Mary but more like the others who encounter the Lord in a gradual way, but who nevertheless grow into a joyful engagement with the world. However, we can-not separate this encounter from the work which serves life and just peace; we grow in joy and hope only if we place ourselves at the service of justice, as it were, as the thirty-second General Congregation of the Society of Jesus suggested. Yet, we are no longer simply disciples, but apostles, those sent as the Word was sent into the world, but now into a world transformed. This "new normal," a joyful realm, disorients in many ways. Please excuse me as I take a bit of a detour 71.1 2012 49 into a Byzantine theme, that of the "Harrowing of Hell," an ancient icon in the East that depicts a scene sketched by a homily from the second century. I ask you to pon-der it with me for just a few moments. We have here one particu-lar rendition of the icon, but a powerful one with three signifi-cant movements. One of these captures the Contemplation for the Fourth Week as given by Ignatius, namely that the Risen Lord sets free the souls of the just held bound before Christ's Resurrection. For Balthasar and oth-ers, this moment of encounter with the Risen Lord has become the deciding moment for them, the one in which heaven—and the second death—actually open. In that sense, we have a key moment of election again, a confirmation to "fol-low" but now in a different way—to eternal life for them. Yet this Risen Lord calls us to proclaim eternal life and freedom in this world. Second, and this evokes the reality of La Storta, the risen Christ carries the cross, but as a tool through which to break open the gates of Sheol. This Christ on mission invites us to the imagery of the Third Week, but now as a call to freedom, not to death or destruction. The order of the world is profoundly inverted here, and violence gives way to freedom. No wonder the thirty- Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 50 second General Congregation could so freely embrace being "under the banner of the cross" as a mode of identification. This rising Christ changes all the imag-ery of violence, death, and hopelessness we would have taken for granted. One finds joy even in the cross—how odd—but, again, joy is not simply a moment of happi-ness but a consistent mode of being. Again, we cannot separate encounter with the Risen Lord from presence to those who know Holy Saturday and its pain or loss of hope. Last, though, for the East—and for Ignatius, I think—the implications of this little icon and of the work of Christ show free-dom in an even bolder way. A second-century homily proclaims, "I did not create you to be held captive," as does the Office of Readings every Holy Saturday. Do we ponder, though, the implications of that little line, the heart of the link between the Third and Fourth Weeks? The dynamic of the Third Week—from the human point of view—reveals the inevitability of betrayal, duplicity, shame, violence, grief, blood-lust. Not an appetizing menu, to be sure. Ignatius would ask us to contemplate the recreated world in which such patterns have lost their power forever, not just for a moment; we know their power, but as something that has passed away, both from the world and from our lives. If a counterpart to the contemplation on the Incarnation in the Second Week is the Two Standards meditation, perhaps this "diptych" does something Joy is not simply a moment of happiness but a consistent mode of being. 71.1 2012 51 similar. In the Two Standards meditation, Satan calls his demons and "goads them on to lay snares for people and bind them with chains" (SpEx §142). Christ bids, attracts, graces, to a very different world, of poverty, bearing insult and humiliation freely as a means of free-dom (SpEx §146). We have seen that first standard lived to its full-est in the Third Week; now we see Christ who in his revealed divinity, as the fullness of the revelation of the Trinity, continues to serve, to free, to attract, to bid, but now as having conquered all freely and lovingly. Do we not know here the prospect of a whole new world unbound or in the process of unbinding, a process to which Christ missions us? Does Christ not call us in this contemplation with Mary to gather companions in the work of dwelling in this contemplative yet active space? The full import of what has been "the normal" becomes ever clearer to us, even as we enter more fully into com-panionship with Mary in this contemplation. The chal-lenge to us, however, never degenerates into hopeless self-scrutinizing or, even worse, scrupulosity. We do not get forced back into contemplating our sins, as too often happens when people gaze upon the cross, or into the violent guilt or shame of the Third Week. Rather, aware of the Third Week and its full impact on the one whom we love and on the world Christ so loves, we hear the invitation to explore contemplatively a dawning world, one which opens, I think, to the Contemplatio and to our role in extending Christ's joy. James Alison, the British Catholic theologian, has written movingly on this, inviting us to consider how our cultures shape our imaginations through the pat-terns of interaction—rivalistic patterns—which for us constitute "the normal." In Christ, and I think in Mary Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 52 and the disciples, God gives us a dramatically differ-ent pattern of interaction, one that creates relationships touched by joy, not by violence or rivalry or fear. In the complementary contemplations we are given through-out the Fourth Week, we encounter many such persons, wounded in and by the Third Week, even agents of the violence of the Third Week, with whom and in whom we now encounter the pattern of joy and hope. These reflections lead me to ponder the meaning of the "Rules for Thinking with the Church" (SpEx §352-370). They are usually given as a form of Counter- Reformation ecclesiology, a guide on how to engage the debates of the mid-sixteenth century. The text contains all kinds of very context-specific allusions—echoes of debates on predestination, sacraments, authority, and the like that helped tear the church apart. We realize that the inability to attend to what the other was saying represented but one more kind of violence in an already violent age. Ignatius, of course, never had shied away from a fight. One has only to remember how ready he was to dispatch the Moor who had shown insufficient defer-ence to the Blessed Virgin, his Lady. He certainly would not be the first choice as a poster boy for pacifism. Yet, think with me for a moment about the Rules, written at a time when everyone wanted a good fight and looked, all too often, for occasions to pick a fight or score a point. Ignatius's presentation strikes me as curious in that regard, strangely pacific, to use Alison's invitation to a radically different imagination, a con-version of imagination, where our normal expectation is no longer violence or the violent god but rather of a world ordered to and by peaceful relationships. We find here none of the grand drama of the instructions to 71.1 2012 53 the Cardinal Legates to the various Diets and Councils. Instead, we find a man desperate to preserve the unity of the community, to avoid the kinds of clashes that mark his age. Perhaps when we look at the Rules for Thinking with the Church, the metaphor that I have been using— of having had the earth scorched around us and entering a new world—could be helpful. We tend to bring with us the imagery and imagination to which we have grown accustomed. We bring the patterns of guilt or shame or blame or grief or violence that we have learned only too well from the world we have known as normal. Yet, the totality of the presence of the Risen Christ to Mary— and to us—challenges any return to those spaces to which we have grown accustomed. Certainly, if Christ has "harrowed hell" and broken dominant patterns, we are in need of "a way," of his way. Might not the Rules for Thinking with the Church be Ignatius's way of inviting us to turn from the slavish obedience so alien to the freedom of the Fourth Week and to become attentive to the community of people elected in grace, graced by Risen Life, empowered by saints, who could sketch out for us and for our imagi-nation a path with and to Christ? We stand in need of a community of faith, the Church militant in the original Spanish text, which can model for us the new life revealed in and through the Risen Lord. While the Rules invite a kind of docility in seeking a way of peace and renewal of imagination found in the community of the faithful, they do not require checking one's mind at the door. At times we can, like Ignatius, grieve because of a church that shows the marks of the violence and domination of those who killed the Lord. Nevertheless we wait in the hope of encountering Christ in this com- Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 54 munity, in the Holy Saturday-Easter Sunday diptych, still confident that we will contemplatively learn a way forward, not in spite of but in the pain. In a similar way, Ignatius needed the community to foster conversion out of scruples and into Christ. Still, a real encounter as is experienced in the tran-sition opens a path to community. Rooted in a new experience of the world, it is a community of peace, joy, hope, creativity. This, of course, has none of the "grand drama" of the Third Week that would thrill Mel Gibson, but it has the quiet quality of a son meeting a grieving mother who has been wounded by violence but, in joy, is experiencing the possibility of new life, the opening of heart and imagination. Quiet, not dramatic in the ways we are used to, but nonetheless a powerful and creative stance. The difference between the drama at the end of the Third Week and the quiet dawn of the Fourth invites us to know in its fullness what the Two Standards means and what Christ offers: not a crusade of our own, but an allowing of new possibilities to dawn in our age. We have seen such dawns, and their ecclesial power touches deeply. I think of Jean Vanier's L'Arche com-munity embracing the handicapped, those rejected by the world. There is the hospice movement, which rose from Dame Cecily Saunders's refusal to allow cancer patients for whom medical drama could do no more to simply go away and die. Those who serve refugees and bring a moment of tenderness and hope to fragile lives similarly stand at the confluence of this Paschal diptych. Easier, I suppose, would be to follow the temptation to take up arms and fight back or condemn, but we are invited to a very different path, not of moralism but of an embrace like that of Mary by her Son. 71.1 2012 55 We began this talk with Stravinsky's musical image of primal humanity and its lust for sacrifice, a lust that seeks "salvation for the people" in a woman condemned to die by dancing madly. The music crashes to a dra-matic conclusion followed by silence. I would like to end with a different dance, one described by Sydney Carter's words applied to the Shaker hymn "Simple Gifts," here the "Lord of the Dance." Perhaps this could evoke something of the transition to a dance that is joyous, inclusive, expansive. May this be our prayer and our path. I danced on a Friday when the sky turned black— It's hard to dance with the devil on your back. They buried my body, and they thought I'd gone, But I am the Dance, and I still go on. Dance, then, wherever you may be, I am the Lord of the Dance, said he, And I'll lead you all, wherever you may be, And I'll lead you all in the Dance, said he. They cut me down and I leapt up high; I am the life that'll never, never die; I'll live in you if you'll live in me— I am the Lord of the Dance, said he. Dance, then, wherever you may be, I am the Lord of the Dance, said he, And I'll lead you all, wherever you may be, And I'll lead you all in the Dance, said he. Notes 1 Gilles Cusson, Biblical Theology and the Spiritual Exercises (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1988), p. 299. 2 Cusson, p. 303. Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 56 3 Hans Urs von Balthasar, Mysterium Paschale: The Mystery of Easter (Grand Rapids, Michigan: William B. Eerdmans, 1990), p. 168. 4 von Balthasar, p 169. 5 John English, Spiritual Freedom: From an Expertience of the Ignatian Exercises to the Art of Spiritual Direction (Guelph: Loyola House, 1973), p. 247. 6 Mary Oliver, Thirst (Boston: Beacon Press), p. 52. 7 Martin E. Palmer, S.J., On Giving the Spiritual Exercises: The Early Jesuit Manuscript Directories and the Official Directory of 1599 (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1996), p. 79. 8 Cusson, p. 303. 9 David L. Fleming, Like the Lightning: The Dynamics of the Ignatian Exercises (St Louis, Institute of Jesuit Sources, 2004), p. 77. 10 Gilbert K. Chesterton, Othodoxy (Garden City, NY: Image Books, 1959), p. 160. Questions for Reflection 1. Where have I embraced the emptiness of death and how has it enabled me to experience the joy of the Risen Lord? 2. Do you have any favorite music, artwork, or poetry that helps you enter into the sacred silence discussed in this article—or that helps you understand other moments in the Spiritual Exercises or in the Gospels? 71.1 2012 57 Dolor 5: At the Foot of the Cross Giving birth is contracting to sleep with death. It is an agreement to pass on everything that has been fed, fondled, fiercely treasured, looked forward to as one looks for the first hibiscus every spring. It is a signature and seal in pledge that one will leave someone something. It holds the possibility—tormenting as tarantula's tricks— that the loved child may pass first, cursedly, of illness, mishap, quick step in the wrong place, by fate or by murderous hatred heaped upon the great. The blood and wash of afterbirth foretell that every holding close lets loose. Small fingers, small toes enlarge as mothering bellies pull back to size and shape. Flowerings green up. They will, they must, brown down with wintering. And every footfall tells an end to every earthly good, each breath started with a slap, each name begun so well that slips into what's next. Pamela Smith sscm Review for Religious 58 peter j. schineller Finding or Seeking God in All Things: A Few Cautionary Notes "T o find God in all things" is a commonplace of Ignatian spirituality. Books and essays on Ignatius and Jesuit spirituality have highlighted the phrase as a hallmark of that spirituality. However, in an essay entitled "The Ignatian Charism and Contemporary Theology," the late Cardinal Avery Dulles wrote that "to the best of my knowledge the expression 'finding God in all things,' does not appear verbatim in the writ-ings of St. Ignatius."1 He admits that we do find "similar expressions" in the writings of Ignatius, and adds that "it seems evident that God can be found in all things." Dulles's observation makes me wonder and leads me to the unanswerable question of whether Ignatius deliberately avoided the phrase "find God in all things." Ignatius does write in many places that we should seek Peter J. Schineller sj is the archivist for the New York Province of the Society of Jesus. He resides at America House, 106 West 56th Street, New York, NY 10019. 59 71.1 2012 and serve God in all things; but, as we will see, except for one place, he does not use the phrase "find God in all things." Jerome Nadal, one of the early companions of Ignatius, clearly believed that Ignatius had the gift or charism to "feel the presence of God" and that this experience should likewise characterize Ignatius's fol-lowers. He writes: "I shall not fail to recall that grace which he had in all circumstances, while at work or in conversation, of feeling the presence of God and of tasting spiritual things, of being contemplative even in the midst of action: he used to interpret this as seeking God in all things."2 Note well that Nadal says Ignatius interpreted this experience as seeking God in all things. So too, Pedro Ribadeneira, also an early compan-ion of Ignatius, reports that "we frequently saw him taking the occasion of little things to lift his mind to God, who even in the smallest things is great. From seeing a plant, foliage, a leaf, a flower, any fruit, from the consideration of a little worm or any other animal, he raised himself above the heavens and penetrated the deepest thought."3 And, in the Autobiography of Ignatius, Luis da Camara, who wrote down the words of Ignatius, states: "At whatever time or hour he wanted to find God, he found Him."4 (To be precise, da Camara says that Ignatius could find God at all times, not that he found God in all things.) So we ask: might there be some wis-dom or insight—or caution—in the fact that Ignatius only once uses the phrase "find God in all things"? The Sole Text and Its Context In the long letter to Antonio Brandão subtitled "Instructions given by our father Ignatius, or at his Review for Religious Schineller • Finding or Seeking God in All Things 60 direction . . ." we read the advice given to scholastics: "the scholastics cannot engage in long meditations . . . they can practice seeking the presence of our Lord in all things; in their dealings with other people, their walking, seeing, tasting, hearing, understanding, and all our activities. For his Divine Majesty truly is in every-thing by his presence, power, and essence. This kind of meditation—finding God our Lord in everything—is easier than lifting ourselves up and laboriously making ourselves present to more abstracted divine realities."5 Again, a caution. This letter was not written by Ignatius, but at his direction by Juan de Polanco. Further, before he says "finding God in everything," he says the scholastics must "practice seeking the presence of our Lord in all things." Finding that presence is not auto-matic— and, perhaps, not so easy as we might think! In the Constitutions of the Society of Jesus, we read that Jesuit novices "should often be exhorted to seek God our Lord in all things . . . loving him in all crea-tures and all creatures in him" [§288]. Again, we see emphasis on the element of search. So too, in the Contemplation to Attain Love in the Spiritual Exercises, we read: "Here it will be to ask for an intimate knowledge of the many blessings received, that filled with gratitude for all, I may in all things love and serve the Divine Majesty" [SpEx §233]. Ignatius wants the retreatants to love and serve God in all; he does not write that they are to find God in all things. I wonder if the rea-son might be that Ignatius wishes to safeguard the Divine Majesty, the ever-greater God. Might it be that he fears that we will believe that we can capture or contain or iden-tify the ever-greater God in any one thing or in all things? In addition to frequently encouraging that we seek or serve God in all things, Ignatius does say that we 71.1 2012 61 can and must "find the will of God." Thus the Spiritual Exercises are a way of preparing the soul to rid itself of attachments and "of seeking and finding the will of God in the disposition of our life for the salvation of our soul" [SpEx §1]. And Ignatius most frequently ends his letters praying for the grace to "know God's most holy will and per-fectly fulfill it." Or, "may God in his goodness give us his abundant grace to know his most holy will and entirely to fulfill it." Even as Ignatius urges us to seek and find the will of God, he emphasizes the method and the search. He never claims that seeking and finding the will of God is easily done. It demands prayer, reflection, seeking, mortification, time, and effort. Today's Background, Context, Horizon In an obvious oversimplification, we might say that in our age we find two extreme tendencies: 1) the skepti-cal, secular way of underbelief and 2) the less critical way of overbelief. These correspond to two rival "isms" in our globalized world, spoken of by Fr. Adolfo Nicolás, supe-rior general of the Society of Jesus, in a major address on higher education: 1) an aggressive secularism and 2) a resurgence of various fundamentalisms.6 We might look at the cautious and critical way of Ignatius in light of these two tendencies. 1. The skeptical and secular viewpoint. Many today, including Christians, experience the distance, absence, Seeking and finding the will of God demands prayer, reflection, seeking, mortification, time, and effort. Review for Religious Schineller • Finding or Seeking God in All Things 62 or otherness of God. Rather than finding God in all things, they do not find God anywhere in their experi-ence. Or God is edged out by many possibilities, alter-natives, and options, by many "things" that are not God. They live in a world come of age that no longer "needs" God and are skeptical of those who find, describe, and talk of God so easily. They are critical of claims or interpretations that seem to make God into one thing among many. This objectification of God, they find, entails a loss of God's otherness and transcendence. 2. The less critical fundamentalism or overbelief. At the other extreme are the many believers who see God at work in every event. God is close and at hand. Some Christians seem to think they have a lock on God, clearly grasping and knowing the divine intentions and will for the world and for humankind. Statements to that effect indicate a temptation to reduce God to our size, to capture and lay hold of God. In a general way, two of today's thinkers reflect these two tendencies. The first is the critic George Steiner. In My Unwritten Books, a sequel to his book Real Presences, which points us to various signs of the transcendent, Steiner writes that he feels strongly the absence of God—a powerful experience of emptiness. "Awesome is the God who is not. . . . I strive to be with His sovereign absence."7 Steiner finds himself groping for and seeking God more than believing in and finding God. He adds that to be great, literature need not believe in or affirm God, but at least must grapple with the question of God, the search and debate over the reality of God. From an explicit Christian perspective, we might also listen to James Gustafson. In an article entitled "The Denial of God as God,"8 Gustafson writes that "the history of our religion is the history of human 71.1 2012 63 attempts to manage and manipulate the awesome power of God, who is finally beyond our capacities to know fully, to capture in human thoughts and deeds. . . . It is the history of efforts to control the times and places of his presence." Gustafson asserts that we overlook this awesome reality of God: "how we want a God we can manage, a God who comes when we beckon him, a God who permits us to say that he is here, but not there; a God who meets our needs on our terms; a God who supports our moral causes and destroys the forces we think are evil; a household God and a kitchen God." Then, drawing from the thought of Martin Luther, he challenges us not to try to manipulate or reduce God, but to "let God be God." Ignatius's Balance Surely Ignatius is not guilty of this reduction or denial of God. He had a strong sense of the immen-sity and majesty of God (he loved stargazing), as well as the closeness of God (recall his meditation on the Incarnation and birth of Jesus Christ in the Spiritual Exercises [§101-117]). But can this be said of all his followers? Might some be at times guilty of oversimpli-fying, reducing, identifying God with their own prefer-ences and thus not "letting God be God"? To put this more boldly; if we think it easy and pos-sible to find God in all things, might we end up by not finding the true God—the transcendent God—in or above any things? Emphasizing the finding of God in all things could become misleading and wrongheaded because it misses or misinterprets the special presence of God in some particular times, places, events, and things. Might this approach be similar to the positive emphasis on the generous and widespread presence and Review for Religious Schineller • Finding or Seeking God in All Things 64 offering of God's grace to all persons. If that view, good in itself, is pushed to the extreme, if all is grace, then we no longer distinguish between grace and non-grace, between grace and nature. Or, if all ground is seen as holy ground, then we might overlook or undercut the special presence or intervention, the special rev-elation of God. If we hold that everything i s sacred and noth-ing is profane or secular, then we could also hold the reverse, that nothing is sacred. Ultimately, it seems important and necessary that we maintain the distinction (not separation) of sacred and secular, of grace and nature, of the God who is in all things and yet above all things. Ignatius also writes of one other thing that Jesuits should seek in all things—namely, greater abnegation and continual mortification! "The better to arrive at this degree of perfection which is so precious in the spiritual life, [the] chief and most earnest endeavor [of the Jesuit candidate and those in formation] should be to seek in our Lord his greater abnegation and continual mortifica-tion in all things possible; and our endeavor should be to help him in those things to the extent that our Lord gives us his grace, for his greater praise and glory" [General Examen of the Constitutions of the Society of Jesus, §103]. While the seeking of mortification does not pre- If we think it easy and possible to find God in all things, might we end up by not finding the true God— the transcendent God— in or above any things? 71.1 2012 65 clude the effort to seek, find, and serve God in all things, surely it derives from a very different, and more sober perspective. It offers a balance to an overly posi-tive, totally one-sided incarnational spirituality. Ignatius is reminding us that the God or Christ that we seek and serve in all things is the Christ of the cross (abnega-tion and mortification) as well as the Christ of glory who comes with power. Thus Ignatius can write regard-ing the qualifications of the rector of a college, that he should "be a man of great example, edification and mortification of all his evil inclinations" [Constitutions, §423]. The ideal superior is one who both practices mortification and seeks to find God in all things! Living with and Maintaining the Tension Deus Semper Major—God Ever Greater—is the title of the monumental work of Erich Pryzwara sj on Ignatius of Loyola.9 The God of Ignatius, the God we seek, find, love, and serve is ever greater, always more. God is in all, but also always above all. Ignatius had the ability to keep seemingly opposing tensions or ten-dencies in view—prayer and action, contemplation and action, the local and the universal, trust in God and trust in our talents and efforts, and obedience and free-dom. In these reflections we are pointing to 1) the ten-sion between the God in all things, and the God above all things and 2) the possible tension between seeking God in all things, and finding God in all things. It seems best and most creative to hold on to both elements of these two tensions and not eliminate one or the other. In one tension we hold that God is in and also above all things: incarnate, indwelling, working in the world, and yet, in keeping with the fourth part of the Contemplation to Attain the Love of God, above Review for Religious Schineller • Finding or Seeking God in All Things 66 and beyond, the source of all. In the second tension, we maintain both the seeking for and the finding of God. St. Augustine writes that we would not seek God unless we had already found (and been found by) God. So I am simply suggesting that rather than conflate the two, or eliminate one or the other, we place a bit more emphasis on the seeking and searching, and less on the finding, in accord with Deut. 4:29: "from there you will seek the Lord your God, and you will find him if you search after him with all your heart and soul." A Caution and a Challenge Does this mean we should not use the phrase "find-ing God in all things"? No. It is in common use and does reflect the way Ignatius was interpreted by his contem-poraries even if Ignatius was normally reticent in using it. At the same time, we should use the words carefully and with awe, recalling that God is always greater and beyond. We dare not think we have captured God. We can preserve and use "finding God in all things" if we emphasize the search, the process, the prayerful effort of trying to find God in places and events around us. Two final cautions: Meister Eckhart said that "Foolish people deem that they should look upon God as though he stood there and they here. It is not thus." God is ever greater, ever here, and ever beyond. We might recall, too, the words of Fr. John Courtney Murray when he saw a poster to be used at a demonstration. Expressing the spirit of the times and a commitment to faith and justice, the poster read: "God Is Other People!" Murray is reported to have said "They forgot the comma after the word 'other.' It should read: 'God is Other, People!' " Probably the strongest challenge now is to seek and find God in the cities, in the world of technology and 71.1 2012 67 computers. We should not seek to find God only in sun-sets and stars and in the least of the sisters and broth-ers, but also amid skyscrapers and elevators, amid steel and concrete buildings, amid asphalt streets, on subways and in airplanes—wherever God seems to be edged out, overlooked, or denied. If the challenge seems daunting, we might be consoled by the words St. Augustine attri-butes to God: "you would not search for me unless you had already found me." And, we might add, we would not search for God "unless God had already found us." Notes 1 Avery Dulles sj, "The Ignatian Charism and Contemporary Theology." America (26 April 1997): 16. 2 Monumenta Historica Societatis Iesu, Mon. Nadal, iv, 651. 3 Monumenta Historica Societatis Iesu, Vita Ignatii Loyolae, in Fontes Narrativi, iv, 742. 4 Ignatius of Loyola, Autobiography, §99. 5 Ignatius of Loyola: Letters and Instructions, (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 2006), p. 342. 6 Adolfo Nicolás sj, "Challenges to Jesuit Higher Education Today." Conversations on Jesuit Higher Education 40 (Fall 2011): 9. 7 George Steiner, My Unwritten Books, (New York: New Directions Books, 2008), p. 209. 8 James Gustafson, "The Denial of God as God." Criterion (Autumn 1977): 6-9. 9 Erich Przywara sj, Deus Semper Major: Theologie der Exercitien (Freiburg im Breisgau: Herder, 1940). Review for Religious 68 In Distressing Disguise for Agnes Gonxha Bejaxhiu he's a lonely old man dandruff dusts his faded black shirt some polyester blend shiny, holding odors of sweat and cigarettes and left-overs some of which remains on the front of his trousers the purple around his neck shabby, soiled, worn-out even burned a little in one place careless as he is with his smokes over my head his palsied hand trembles and to my ears come mumbled words of grace while my heart strains to see Him, to see His true face, here before me in distressing disguise. Sean Kinsella Winter Sunset At exactly five-fifteen p.m. the over-ripe sun paused a second on the town's rim, all the horizon's color sealed in its neon pulp. I could hardly stop gazing, sure it would burst and spill red-orange juice, winter's redemptive blood, across the Western sky. Patricia Schnapp rsm The Warmth, the Will, and the Way The dilemma is that I am not making very steady progress on my spiritual journey. This leads me to think that I need more consistency. Since I already live "a stable way of life" as a member of a religious order, my basic direc-tion is set. I see that this way of life is leading me where the deepest currents of my heart want me to go. But despite that general clar-ity of direction, I find myself dawdling along, sometimes going backwards, often wandering off to explore some curiosity, rarely totally focused on the path, much less on the goal, of this particular journey on which the Way is also the End. We often pray that the Holy Spirit will fill our hearts and "enkindle in them the fire" of 71.1 2012 sharing experi-ence 69 ben harrison Ben Harrison mc is a Missionaries of Charity Brother. He has worked in formation and has journeyed, in the U.S. and Europe, alongside homeless people, prisoners, addicts, and other people on the margins of society. His email is . Review for Religious Harrison • The Warmth, the Will, and the Way 70 his love. Once on a retreat I was complaining to the director that I didn't feel any sense of God's presence, and he assured me that I wouldn't be feeling the absence if there weren't a kind of presence; the longing itself was a sign of the Spirit's presence. If I could welcome that longing as a warming presence rather than endure it as a chilling absence, it would help to enkindle the fire of his love. When I speak of this warmth of heart I am not talk-ing about seeking emotional experiences in prayer but rather of finding that sense of inner presence that is so important in the prayer of Eastern Christianity. My mind and the actions it inspires range all over the place, but if I am attentive to that warmth in my heart, the inner pres-ence not only influences my thoughts and feelings but also anchors my actions and desires. This sense of warmth, then, helps me to be more consistent on my spiritual way. I frequently have very good insights, and for a long time I thought that they could keep me centered. I often thought, "Oh, what a brilliant idea! If I can only remember that every day, I will be set for life." And so I would make a note and stick it on the door, or I would write a prayer and say it every morning, until it became so routine that what I was saying didn't even register. Soon I would have another brilliant insight with life-changing potential. Such thoughts are like matches that provide real fire, but only for a few minutes. Then, unless the match is touched to a candle or to a heap of kindling, it is spent. I need something more reliable than insights. I need something more reliable than insights. 71.1 2012 71 Perhaps the secret is to do what would be done in a cottage in the woods: continually add fuel to the fire, a log at a time, to keep it burning. Then, late at night, bank the coals, rake them together in a little pile so that the heat will not dissipate. A few glowing embers will remain in the morning, upon which new kindling can be placed and fresh wood arranged so all is ready to warm the beginnings of the new day. That way the hearth never grows cold. I am discovering that this warmth of heart is a sign of the Spirit's presence with me, abiding in me, direct-ing me toward the goal. But there is something else that seems to be essential in order to deepen that presence and strengthen God's claim on me—what I would call will. The desire is there: the forward impulse, the yearn-ing for the heights, the longing to surrender my being to the One Who Is. What is the difference between this desire and will? To wish for something is to entertain a desire for it; to want it is to own that desire; to will it is to act on that desire, to put it into operation. Will has about it an element of determination. And it is not something I can drum up within myself. It has to be given. St. Paul says, "work out your own salvation with fear and trembling; for God is at work in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure" (Phil 2:12-13). Will and the Vows As I think about my vocation, I would say that my will is expressed, above all, by the vows. My vows are the way I demonstrate to myself, to God, and to oth-ers this desire to belong totally to him. The Latin verb for will is volo, velle, and the Latin verb voveo, vovere means vow or wish. Though etymologically the roots of volo and voveo do not seem to be related, there is, Review for Religious Harrison • The Warmth, the Will, and the Way 72 to my mind, a consonance of meaning. The vows of religious life are a way of making concrete the double-edged desire that is God's desire for me, expressed in a call—a word spoken silently in the heart—that awakens a reciprocating desire in me. His desire to give himself completely to me sets that very same flame alight in me so that I desire to give myself irrevocably to him. The gentle fire of the Spirit's warmth that God enkindles in my heart is drawing me, slowly but surely, toward the blazing glory at the heart of God, and my vows repre-sent the power of that attraction and my determination by God's grace to reach that goal. I see the vows of religious life as the embodiment and expression of the will to be united with God and to give myself to him totally in a particular context, in response to his gift of himself to us in Christ. This is so whether we are speaking of the monastic vows of obedi-ence, stability, and conversion of life or the evangelical counsels of poverty, chastity, and obedience (or, for that matter, similar sets of vows or promises: those of priest-hood or sacramental marriage, of virginity or service, of oblate-hood or lay association). From primitive times a vow was a solemn promise to make some gift or sacrifice to a divinity as an earnest of a good requested or in thanksgiving for a boon received. Although on a literal level this sounds like a type of bargaining or commerce, I can also see it as a way of demonstrating to myself and my God how important something is to me, how sincerely I desire it, how des-perately I need it, how serious my intentions are. The medieval king might have prayed, "Lord, defend us from the threat of these brutal enemies and I will build a church for your glory." Or a mother may pray, "Lord, if you spare my daughter from this dread disease, 71.1 2012 73 I will do everything I can to support research for its cure." Or a widow may say, as one I know did, "Lord, if I am spared from this condition leading to blindness, I will never use my eyes to take pleasure in what is not good and pure." Thus we see how a vow is an expression of a wish for some good for oneself or others. The Italian word for such a commitment is impegno, which can be translated as "pledge." Literally, some-thing given in pegno is pawned. By the vows I am putting the treasure of my earthly life in pledge for a higher good. I am putting my security, my posterity, and my liberty in pawn for something I need more urgently. What is it, in this case, that I need so urgently? I need the grace to live up to this persistent impulse to give myself—an impulse that God has placed in my heart. I know that the faith, hope, and love in me are too weak and faltering to do the job, to get me where I yearn to go. And so I pledge what I have to him and entrust my poor being to him, not to pay him for what he freely gives, but to show him (and myself) that I am serious about following him and that I trust him with this pre-cious but paltry gift of my life, trust that he will keep it safe and see it redeemed and restored in his own time. Pledging my life to him, I am confident that he will give me the grace I need to live each day. In the world of commerce, one pawns something of value for ready money—something that has value but is not spendable, for something that can be spent. The ready cash makes it possible to buy what is needed today. Another word for this ready cash is currency, also called fluid or liquid assets. All these words—"current," "fluid," "liquid"— suggest an action of flowing and remind us of the Spirit, that spring of living water that flows forth from the heart of Christ. Review for Religious Harrison • The Warmth, the Will, and the Way 74 Thus, when I make my profession of vows, I am proclaiming my faith in God and my desire to belong to him. The vows that I pronounce represent the totality of my gift of self. In the institute to which I belong, we profess the evangelical counsels—the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. These three vows are an apt symbol of the totality of my life. By dedicating to God all that I have, all that I love, and all my choices and decisions now and in the future, I am effectively giv-ing him all I am. This triad of the evangelical counsels reflects a totality of being, as do many similar triads. I have no trouble, for example, in seeing parallels between the vows and St. Ignatius's prayer surrender-ing "my memory, my understanding, my entire will." The traditional baptismal formula asks us to renounce "the world, the flesh, and the devil." Scripture tells us that we are to love God with our whole heart, soul, and mind (Mt 22:37). The magi brought the treasures of the nations—gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Micah tells us that our sole obligation is "to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God" (Mi 6:8). It is easy to see how the three evangelical counsels reflect the three theological gifts of faith, hope, and love. And finally, without putting too fine a point on the comparison, I suggest that the vow of poverty is descriptive of my relationship with the Father, without whom I am nothing and have nothing; chastity reflects my relationship with the Word, the Son, who is friend, Savior, and Bridegroom of souls; and obedience is the domain of the Spirit, who prompts the content of obe-dience and makes possible its practice. The act of making vows is thus a statement of my desire to surrender myself absolutely to the Absolute, to dedicate myself to his way and consecrate myself to his 71.1 2012 75 purpose. The mutuality of giving to which God invites me does not mean a mere absorption in each other. Though I would be content to lose myself in God, he seems to want more for me than that. God wants me to share his love for others and so, by my self-offering, he unites me to his own mission—his out-pouring, in-gathering action of universal love. Thus I am given to the particular apostolates and ministries of the institute in which I live my vocation. Sometimes vows are spoken of as sacred bonds. Bonds are something that we feel gripping us, holding or securing us. If bonds are involuntary we feel them as a constraint, an injustice. If they are desired, we feel them as a comfort, a belong-ing, an embrace. I suppose anyone who makes vows feels them sometimes as a restriction and some-times as a liberation. But part of the radi-cal nature of such a commitment is the protestation that one is willing to pay the price, that one values the liberation of giving oneself more than the security of having oneself. It is a recognition that dying to self is the road to life and that the cross shared is the victory won. Like the fox in Antoine de Saint-Exupéry's The Little Prince, I want nothing more than for the Little Prince to tame me, so that "the wheat, which is golden [like your hair], will remind me of you. And I'll love the sound of the wind in the wheat." The act of making vows is a statement of my desire to surrender myself absolutely to the Absolute. Review for Religious Harrison • The Warmth, the Will, and the Way 76 Consistency in the Way Returning, then, to my original point, I am saying that two things will help me to find a salutary consis-tency in my spiritual journey: the abiding warmth of the Spirit's presence in my heart, and the will—the determination—to yield to the relentless attraction of Jesus drawing me, and all, to himself. God's love for me in Christ arouses a reciprocating love in me. I give my poor self to him in pledge, not because I have to but because I want to, and he gives me, in return, the wherewithal to make the journey: the daily bread, the water from the rock, and the yearning for home—for the harbor—at the heart of God. Perhaps the greatest indication of his love that God has given me, from my point of view, is not his love itself for me (of which I can scarcely conceive) but my love for him, which is a sweet hunger, a soothing need. Nor is my love for him something that I can claim or that I often feel, but rather an occasional glimpse of light; a fitful melting of joy; a momentary, faint intima-tion of promised ecstasy. It is to the memory of those rare moments of tender quickening, of nostalgia for the unknown, that my will clings during the long periods of dryness, confusion, and loss. It is will that keeps me walking on the way when even the cherished memory fades and all I have left to fall back on is the Spirit's quiet presence in my heart. Indeed, it is all up to God. It is he who supports the journey from behind with his warm abiding. It is he who lures me from ahead through that hunger in my heart. And it is he who strengthens me on the way by the will to journey on. Each day's reminder of that will at work in me is the comforting burden of the vows, by which I experience within myself the debt of love, the 71.1 2012 77 yoke of gratitude, the claim of oneness by which I know that I am his. Being as I am, the fact that I do not manage to live my vows wholeheartedly is not surprising. But it is important that I feel the rub and the pinch and the chafe of them against my stubborn self. As my need and desire for God become stronger than all lesser needs and desires, so the bonds of my belonging to him will grow stronger than all my resistances. At the point that I can give myself without reserve, I will be free. And how do I dare to think that I will reach that point? St. Paul tells us that if God has gone so far as to give his Son for us, "will he not also give us all things with him?" (Rom 8:32). And Paul says further, "I am sure that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ" (Phil 1:6). I trust that God would not have put this desire in my heart, and that of my companions on the way, if he didn't intend to give us the grace to see it through. Home Walking the Labyrinth at Chartres Home. Is it where I begin or end or at the middle stillpoint? Am I at home on the way? Here I am, Lord. Never far from the beginning always approaching the end continually circling the center. Eugene Cartier Review for Religious Getting with the Program P robably one of the most important graces of my novitiate was coming to realize that I had an addiction. It was a painful and embarrassing experience, and yet I have no doubt that it was the best thing that has happened to me in a number of years. During my novitiate I started accessing pornogra-phy online. It was a development I was so ashamed of that I was afraid it would herald the end of my journey into religious life. Previously I had bought magazines and sought out sexually stimulating images in films or through image search engines on the Internet. My behavior began to take root at an early age in romantic fantasy. I would fantasize about being with a girl and wooing her in some exotic setting. Even though I was sexually inexperienced and naive and did not know what adults did together between the sheets, I would some-times escape into this fantasy when I went to bed. 78 A young man writes of his experience of coming to terms during the novitiate with his addiction to pornography. He has requested that the article be published anonym

Issue 69.3 of the Review for Religious, 2010. ; ANew Chal!en~e Models of Spi~rituali, ty Liv, ing Religious Li£e ' Foliow~ing Christ QUARTERLY 69.3 2010 Review for Religious fosters dialogue with God, dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue with one another about the holiness we try to live according to charisms of Catholic religious life. As Pope' Paul Vl said, our way of being church is today the way of dialogue. 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: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Maih reviewrfr@gmail.com ¯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 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. ©2010 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 distribution, 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. ~ gournalof Ca~ho~c ~piri~ua~y rel Editor Associate Editor Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Paul Coutinho SJ Martin Erspamer OSB' Margaret Guider OSF Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD QUARTERLY 69.3 2010 contents prisms 228 Prisms 230 238 a new challenge ~ Koinonia and the Church in the Digital Age Daniel P. Horan OFM reflects on the role technology currently plays in both supporting and challenging Christians in their fellowship (koinonia) as church. Personal Reflection / Group Discussion Beyond Frontiers, Deep and High, Hear and Far Hedwig Lewis SJ probes the inclusive meaning and reach of frontiers for spiritual enhancement and effective ministry. The term frontiers, contained in Decree Three of the 35th General Congregation of the Society of Jesus has gained popularity among many religious. 226] 255 268 models of spirituality ~ Elizabeth Seton's Spirituality of the Cross Judith Metz SC explores a central element of St. Elizabeth Seton's spirituality: her realization of the importance of losing her life for the sake of living in closer union with Christ. A Rare Humility and a Future-Facing Myth Avis Clendenen finds in an aging sister's simple tale a vision of the humility that our dangerously narcissistic culture seriously needs. Review for Religious 281 297 living religious life Religious Life as an Acceptable Sacrifice Robert Nogosek CSC proposes that in order for religious life to be authentic discipleship it demands of us an ongoing reevaluation of what is required to be a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God. Coping with the Genuinely Difficult Religious Jeffrey Mickler SSP brings together some observations and practical suggestions on how to deal with problematic religious. 3O9 316 following Christ The Liturgical Year: History or Mystery? John M. Samaha SM examines the movement of the liturgical year in order that we might enter more fully into this time of grace. Personal Reflection / Group Discussion Discipleship and Clinging to God Damian C. Ilodigwe writes on how letting go opens us to true discipleship, and we are invited to detach ourselves from wayward affections in order to attach ourselves to God. departments 324 Scripture Scope: Reading and Understanding the Prophets 328 Book Review 227 69.3 2010 prisms 228 In the middle months of a secular calendar year, we find ourselves in what is identified as "ordinary time" in the church's liturgical year. As we likely have been told many times, the liturgical "ordinary time" refers to a way of counting (the Latin word ordo meaning "an ordering") the Sundays from one to thirty-four. These are the Sundays that are outside of the special seasons of Advent and Christmas, Lent and Easter. Yet for us Christians, there is a kind of lovely paradox in living within what we call the "liturgical season of ordinary time." While in many ways it may seem that all time is ordi-nary (since time is always countable), in other ways we can view all time as rather extraordi-nary. The ordinariness of time is caught up in our usual round of family or community life, of work and recreation, of the accustomed interaction of friends, neighbors, and fellow-workers. Some people try to break out of the day-to-day routine by deliberately scheduling in a special time for a dinner out, a day-trip to an unfamiliar town, or a different recreational activity such as biking or bowling. Review for Religious A number of people find each day an adventure and cannot imagine that there are some who would call life ordinary. These people find a newness in the chang-ing weather of this day, in the surprising interactions with their own children or friends, and even in the mes-sages of the mail, the internet, and the iphone. They have retained a certain childlikeness that retains a won-der,. about life in all its forms. For them life is not so much ordinal, that is, "countable," as it is caught up in "moments" that have no countable passage. For exam-ple, moments of insight and moments of being inflamed by love--spiritually identified as consolations--are truly beyond the countable. We Christians are blessed and graced to recognize these kinds of "moments" in prayer during which we feel caught up outside of time in our relationship with God. Surely it does not happen all the time; in fact, the "ordinary" is our "slugging away" at our prayer time. We can also know these moments when we are engaged in our various times of joy, happiness, and love. The wonder of it all is that these moments for us--those who are caught in finding life ordinary and those who are gifted to live in wonder--are actually moments that happen in the ordinary course of our daily living. Perhaps that is why it is important for us to enter fully into the paradox of our church's liturgical season of ordinary rime. There i~ the reality of the ordinary and there is also the reality of the moment. The church's liturgical year reminds us that God is always present to us both in the ordinary and in the moment. We need only to pray each day of our liturgical year to be gr.aced with the gratitude that finds God in all times and places. David L. Fleming sJ 69.3 2010 a new DANIEL P. HORAN challenge 2301 Koinonia and the Church in the Digital Age If Jesus had been born in 1980 and began his public ministry in 2010, would he have "friended" the twelve apostles on Facebook instead of visiting the Sea of Galilee? While this question might at first seem comical, it reflects concern about how the church as the Christian community relates to the world in which it exists today. The world is very different from the world of Jesus' ministry. The way many people experience interpersonal communication, develop and maintain relation-ships, and share information is strikingly dif-ferent from the ways of previous generations. In an era marked by advances in technology, communication, and virtual space, we must be attentive to how much our church community is being influenced or shaped by its new envi-ronment. To understand some of these matters Daniel P. Horan .OFM has written on Franciscan the-ology, philosophy, and spirituality. He writes from Holy Name College; 1650 Saint Camillus Drive; Silver Spring, Maryland 20903. Review for Religious in what we may call the "digital age," we must look first at what unites us in faith and then at how our changing world affects that unity. What Is Koinonia? Early in the Acts of the Apostles, we are told that members of the nascent Christian community "devoted thems'elves to the apostles' teaching and fellowship (koinonia), to the breaking of bread and the prayers" (Ac 2:42). In Greek, koinonia was one of the marks of Christian identity, but what does it mean? It literally means "communal-ness" (community, communion, "in common") and thus fellowship. In the Christian con-text, however, this is more than club mem . bership or casual social connections. The New Testament scholar Luke Timothy Johnson sug-gests that this under-standing of koinonia includes our unity in Christ, which explains how the Christian com-munity was able to maintain unity amid the ~hallenges it faced in the first centuries. In a 1999 lecture at St. Louis University, Johnson offered four aspects of this Christian fellow-ship: fellowship among persons, in writing, in material resources, and in convictions.1 Even in diverse cultures, regions, and languages, Christianity was unified through these four aspects of koinonia. The fellowship among persons is seen in the way net-works of New Testament figures, including the apostles The fellowship in writing is most clearly seen in the way .that. early Christian texts,. were shared among the early believers~ [231 69.3 2010 Horan ¯ Koinonia and the Cburcb in the Digital Age and their successors, helped to unify the various com-munities of believers. Johnson believes that these per-sonal connections helped to maintain coherence in the early Christian movement. The fellowship in writing is most clearly seen in the way that early Christian texts, which would later be canonized as Scripture, were shared among the early believers in different locations. The exchange of these compositions, sometimes letters and sometimes longer narratives, concretized the common experience of the life and ministry of Jesus Christ. The communal reflec-tion on these compositions proved to be an important means of developing koinonia. The fellowship in material resources united the first Christians in a seemingly calculable way that was under-stood more deeply as symbolizing a spiritual connec-tion with other believers. We see in both the Acts of the Apostles and in the Letters of Paul references to offerings for the benefit of the local community ("no one claimed private ownership of any possessions, but everything they owned was held in common," Ac 4:32), and the greater Christian community spread throughout the land ("conc+rning the collection for the saints., on the first day of every week, each of you is to put aside and save whatever extra you earn," 1 Co 16:1-2). Sharing financial resources represented spiritual koinonia. The last form of fellowship is that in convictions. Johnson notes that in the New Testament we see con-flicts arising over interpretations of some mat(ers, but that some convictions are never contested. Three of these are monotheism (identifying the one God as the God of the Torah), knowledge that Jesus was human and died, and belief that Jesus was now living with God and would share in God's triumph in the future. Review for Religious All four forms of koinonia that Johnson highlights contribute to the unity amid diversity in the early.church. We see that they have continued to unite the church. The Possibility of Digita! Koinonia With the understanding that this fourfold koinonia continues even today, we can now look at how it relates to us in our technologically advanced and technologically permeated world. It seems there is nothing that does not have a digital or virtual counterpart: Much of today's communication takes place on the Internet in such sites as Facebook and MySpace. Interacting in a completely digital environment where simple laws of nature, com-mon social mores, and geographical limits are no longer applicable is becoming more common through programs like SecondLife. These new forms of communication and social interaction allow the users to create, modify, and experiment with their identities in unprecedented ways. These new "identities" can participate in what are often called "online communities." Is it possible then to express koinonia in a digital format, to have "church" or a community of believers come together in an authentic way online? It would seem at first glance to be a possibility. The clearest congruency between koinonia and the digital age is likely found within the context 6f the fel-lowship among persons. The Second Vatican Council's Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, Lumen gen-tium, says: "All of the faithful, scattered though they be throughout the. world, are in communion with each other in the Holy Spirit" (LG §13).2 Earlier in Lumen gentium we are told that the church "transcends all limits of time and confines of race [and is] destined to extend to all regions of the earth" (LG §9). Transcending the 69.3 2010 Horan ¯ Koinonia and the Church in the Digital Age boundaries of temporality and human differences sug-gests that connecting and communicating with others through digital media and the Internet is indeed a con-temporary manifestation of fellowship among persons. Additionally, the "blog" (short for "weblog") and other digital media make written compositions and reflections on normative religious texts more read-ily available. Even in graduate theological schools, the ubiquity of technologies such as BlackBoard or WebCT has reshaped the way students of Scripture and theology read about, reflect on, and share their faith. It would seem that Christians are no longer limited to parish Bible study, adult catechesis, or other forms of faith-sharing face to face. Instead, thecommunica(ion of biblical and theological reflection now transcends the previous spatial and temporal boundaries. You can read about, reflect on, and share your faith at any time and from nearly any place. The fellowship in material resources in contempo-rary Christian communities occurs largely by way of the Internet. Technology enables the faithful to share their material resources directly or indirecdy with other communities at the click of a computer mouse. When natural disaster, crime, or war affects the people of God on any continent or at any time, the Internet has allowed Christians to assist others instantaneously. This has been the case in recent years with aid to victims of the Indian Ocean tsunami of 2004 and victims of hur-ricane Katrina in New Orleans in 2005. The sharing of material resources in these instances also represents the spiritual unity of the people of God, spread around the world though they are. The final dimension of koinonia that Johnson has highlighted for us, fellowship in convictions, can also be for Reli#ous seen in the new technologies of the digital age. From the beginning of the Internet, digital "communities" formed to share ideas and information. Early on, this occurred in what were called "chat rooms" and "message boards," where one could connect with others and contribute to a continuing conversation about a particular subject. Today the successors to those early formats might be Facebook "groups" and personal blogs. Centered on commonly held beliefs and convictions, these digital "spaces" allow people to connect with others without regard to temporal or geographic boundaries. Given the apparent compatibility of Luke Johnson's fourfold definition of koinonia with the technological advances of our digital age, it seems we could advocate a form of "digital koinonia." There remains, however, a piece of the puzzle that is not accounted for in this digital koinonia. The church is not united in this form of fellowship alone, but is also a Eucharistic community. From Facebook to Eucharist However great the possibilities for increasing koi-nonia among the Christian faithful, we must recall the passage from Acts cited above wherein the community was also devoted to the breaking of the bread. Cardinal Walter Kasper, in his book That They May All Be One,3 reminds us that the church is not simply an organization or club in which we have become some sort of mem-ber, and that we are brought into participation in the mystery of Christ as a part of Christ's Body through the sacrament of baptism. The participation--the set of relationships we enter through baptism and maintain through koinonia--comes to what Kasper calls "the summit," namely, participation in the Eucharist, a theme from Sacrosanctum concilium, 69.3 2010 Horan ¯ Koinonia and the Church in the Digital Age the council's Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy. In this light we can understand Christian koinonia as being both a communal or material unity and a sacramental unity. Kasper is in line with Johnson's fourfold koinonia, but reminds us that this koinonia is inherently sacramental, rooted in our shared baptism and Eucharist. Understanding koinonia as being fundamentally sac-ramental while also communal, we see two sets of rela-tionship in the church's koinonia, The first one Kasper calls the horizontal dimension of koinonia. It is what we have seen in Johnson's fourfold framework: fellow- - ship among persons, . , ~ in writing, in material resources, and in con-viction. The second set Kasper describes as the vertical dimension: the explicitly sacramental fellowship of believers, who in baptism are united to Christ and thus brought into the life of the Trinity. This dimension, the vertical or sac-ramental, cannot be replicated on Facebook, MySpace, SecondLife, or any other technological medium. People cannot have their SecondLife avatar baptized online and cannot participate in the celebration of the Eucharist online either. In light of the ideas of'Luke Timothy Johnson and Cardinal Walter Kasper and in line with the vision of the Second Vatican Council, the church in this digital age of ours is clearly aided in living its koinonia, but not, of course, in the matter of baptism and the Eucharist, with their water, bread, and wine. The horizontal dimension We can understand Christian koinonia as being both a communal or material unity and a sacramental unity,° 236 Review for Religious of koinonia could very likely benefit from more engage-ment with online technologies that transcend some of the usual limits of place and time. At the same time, there is a need to move beyond this digital koinonia to fully include the sacramental and vertical dimension in the celebration of baptism and Eucharist. Had Jesus "friended" the Apostles on Facebook, he would have veryqikely sent an "e-vite" to each one for an in-person gathering shortly thereafter. Notes ~ Luke Timothy Johnson, "Koinonia: Diversity and Unity in Early Christianity," Theology Digest 46 (1999): 303-313. 2 All references to conciliar documents are to Vatican Council II, ed. Austin Flannery OP (New York: Costello Publishing, 1992). 3 Walter Kasper, That They May All Be One: The Call To Unity Today (New York: Continuum, 2004). Questions for Personal Reflection and Group Study 1. In what ways do you experience koinonia in today's church? 2. How do you see technology impacting the way we live out our call to Christian discipleship? Are there other positive or negative dimensions associated with this reality? 3. What are the ways we might better use technology to support authentic communion within the Christian community today? 23.7 69.3 2010 HEDWIG LEWIS Beyond Frontiers, Deep and High, Near and Far 23,8 ~reOvarle daStt intuotd oens.l yI nc o2m0m06u,n tihcaet es lmanega n"icnogo blu"t walasso said to be the most popular word of the year. It had acquired a new set of meanings and suggested a specific mindset. The word, however, did not affect Jesuits: they were warming up for a general congregation (GC35) to be held in early 2008. When it was finally in session, the delegates wanted to set the world on fire. A special decree (D2) defined the Jesuit as a "man on fire" at the frontiers of humanity. Decree Three (D3) is tided "Challenges to Our Mission Today: Sent to the Frontiers." "Frontiers" became the theme of several docu-ments and the new buzzword of the Jesuits. It is no longer just a romantic term, but has evoked enthusiasm and captured Jesuit imaginations. It has become popular also among other religious worldwide.~ Hedwig Lewis SJ writes again from St. Xavier's College; P.B. 4168; Ahmedabad 380 009; India. His website is http://joygift.tripod.com. Review for Religious Understanding Frontiers The word frontier has varied meanings: the edge of empires, a place for adventure and heroism, technologi-cal testing for new industries, conquest or rich cultural exchange. In Europe it refers simply to the boundaries between nations. The colonies the Europeans established in the rest of the world became, first of all, European societies and cultures on farther frontiers. In the United States the frontier, in history and popular culture, has meant the setting for adventure and prosperity, valor and villainy. The national character is seen as having been forged in the trials and triumphs of life on the frontier. The pioneer experience supposedly pf0duced the best traits of the American people--their tenacity, individualism, love of democracy, patriotism, inventive-ness, and much more. Many historians today question such views, but few would deny that "frontier," broadly understood, has had an influence not only in North America but in the rest of the world as well. The expansion of European peo-ples brought a variety of complicated changes to human society and to the physical world itself. The frontier was an unsetding force--socially, culturally, politically, and ecologically) No longer just a geographic term implying some restrictions, "frontier" is also used in referring intel-lectual aiad scientific advances and ideological visions. Today "ideas, information, merchandise, technology, and capital circulate freely; persons also circulate, though with many more restrictions. Frontiers have become porous, and in many cases they have disappeared. The world has become multireligious and multicultural. There is no longer a notion of Christendom with delim-ited frontiers beyond which lies mission territory.''3 69.3 2010 Lewis * Beyond Frontiers, Deep and High, Near and Far A New Concept of Frontier Decree Three of GC35 redefines frontier accord-ing to. the interpretation Pope Benedict xvI gave it in his allocution to GC35. It implies "geographical and spiritual ,places where others do not reach or find it dif-ficult to reach . The obstacles challenging those who announce the gospel are no longer seas and vast dis-tances; rather they are the boundar-ies of a superficial vision of God and of man, which place obstacles in the way of faith and human knowledge, faith and science, faith and the commitment to justice.''4 The new frontiers exist everywhere, and we are sent to the frontiers with the very concrete mission of open-ing up passes and of "building bridges" between those who live on pne side of the frontier and those who live on the other. What is more, we are asked to be our-selves "bridges in a fragmented world" (D3 17). The frontiers have to be recognized in their variety and diversity. "The frontier is everywhere--in cyber-space, in the inner space of retreats and counseling, in the depths of depression from infirmity, in the homes that have been broken by separation or misunderstand-ing, in the midst of the secularized globalized post, modern world, in old places that call for new ways of speaking God's word. It is anywhere and everywhere that the joy and peace of the Good News is still not felt. And we are asked to go there, and 'our mode of proceeding is to trace the footprints of God. know-ing that the Spirit of Christ is at work in all places Frontiers have to be recognized in their varietyand diversity: 240 Review for Religious and situations.' . . . We turn also to the 'frontier' of the earth, increasingly degraded and plundered. Here, with passion for environmental justice, we shall meet once again the Spirit of God seeking to liberate a suf-fering creation, which demands of us space to live and breathe" (D2 10&24).s On the spiritual front, particularly for Ignatian spiriZ tuality, "~e frontiers are in giving Spiritual Exercises to every kind of person. There are frontiers in constructing an I'gnatian spirituality that can energize political action and, a renewed evangelization of faithful Christians. And there are ~frontiers in places: Moscow, for instance, and the virtual place called the web. There are older fr.on-tiers too: each human hea~;t that has to decide to follow and serve Christ the ¯K' in"g6. Jesm" t s"pirituality, because it is holistic and inclusive, "sustains the Jesuit at individual and collective, personal and strg.ctural levels for collabo-ration and networking at all levels--provincial and uni-versal in an attitude of solidarity . Jesuits are invited to build a new future in Christ for a 'globalization in solidarity, a globalization without marginalization.'''7 Those who "really try to listen" to, the Spirit end up in strange, surprising places!''s Jesuit Frontiersmen ~ Since the-foundation of the Society of Jesus, Jesuits have considered themselves frontiersmen and pioneers in .the proclamation of the faith. Pope. Benedict alluded to this in his allocution: "In its history; the Society of Jesus has lived extraordinary experiences of proclama-tion and encounter between the gospel and world cul-tures- it suffices to think of Matteo Ricci in China, Roberto De Nobili in India, or the 'Reductions' in Latin America. And you are very rightly, proud of them. I feel 69.3 2010 Lewis ¯ Beyond Frontiers, Deep and High, Near and Far 242 it is my duty today to urge you to set out once again in the tracks of your predecessors with the same cour-age and intelligence, but also with an equally profound motivation of faith and enthusiasm to serve the Lord and his church." He was echoing the words of his predecessor Pope Paul vI, who spoke of ~'crossroads" and "the front line" when he addressed GC32 in 1975: "Wherev.er in the church, even in the most difficult and exposed fields, in the Erossroads of ideologies, in the social trenches, there has been or is confrontation between the burning exigencies of humanity and the perennial message of the gospel, there have been and are the Jesuits," The Jesuit historian John O'Malley, writing about "the first Jesuits," said that their ."ministries and how they went about them were quintessential to the Jesuits' self-definition" of being frontiersmen. In their minis-tries, Jesuits excluded no person or place in the world. They operated at the edges of life: they preached, taught catechism., proposed _n_ew liturgical practices, and sought to .help orphans, prostitutes, prisoners, and people in hospitals. They were simultaneously writing plays, teaching in universities~ and acting as theologians at the Council of Trent. Within seven years of their papal approval, they founded and operated schools.9 Today our mission is to, go with both spiritual vigor and intellectual rigor to the "new frontiers" where we learn again that our "Jesuit identity [and mission] are relational; they grow in and through our diversities of culture, nationalities, and languages, enriching and chal-lenging us" (D2 19).1° In keeping with their vocation, therefore, Jesuits are sent beyond all frontiers "to serve faith, promote jus-tice, and dialogue with cultures and religions. The basis Review for Religious for reconciliation is Luke 4:18-19, which announces the good news to the poor, the release of captives, the recovery of sight by the blind, and freedom for the oppressed. In proclaiming God's message of love and compassion, Jesus crosses over physical and socio-religious frontiers. In the same manner, Jesuits are invited to preach the kingdom to those living outside their physical and spiritual frontiers: tax col-lectors; prostitutes; sin-ners; refugees; displaced; trafficked; women; chil- ,To cr, gss frontlers demands a strongfaith, courage, ,open ness others, and a willingness to take risks. dren; minorities; outcasts; indigenous peoples; victims of communal, caste, and ethnic violence; and persons of all kinds who are marginalized and excluded.''~l The frontiers are difficult and often uncomfort-able places. They provide none of the security of one's home turf and often require excursions, into unfamiliar or even uncharted territory. To cross frontiers demands a strong faith, courage, openness to others, and a will-ingness to take risks. It requires the ability to adapt the message of Christ and his church to cultural, linguistic, and religious realities that work with altogether differ-ent categories and reference points, as modeled by some of the great Jesuit missionaries of the past.~2 '.'Going to the frontiers," Father Adolfo Nicolfis pointed out, "means study, research, entering into the life of the people, soli-darity, empathy, inculturation, and respect for others. Going to the whole world turns out to be more difficult than we had thought. We feel like children. Perhaps we have discovered the kingdom of God.''~3 69.3 2010 Lewis ¯ Beyond Frontiers, Deep and High, Near and Far Father Peter-Hans Kolvenbach, when asked to define "catholic" by Georgetown University trustees visiting Rome in May 2007, replied, "I have always understood 'catholic' to mean bringing the experience of those at the frontiers of the church's mission back to renew the center.''14 For the effectiveness of our mission, we need to carefully "discern" the frontiers. This demands "three important qualities: creativity, daring, and great humil-ity!" according to Father Nicolfis. "Every Jesuit work, be it in justice, spirituality, educati6n, or whatever, should ask the question, 'How are we at the frontiers?'''is That is what this article addresses. The full mean-ing and scope of "frontiers" will take much research and extensive reflection. This is, then, an introductory study from three perspectives: (1) interior frontiers, which involve (2) spiritual frontiers and (3) outreach frontiers. 244 Interior Frontiers Saints have implied that the spiritual life is the adven-ture of crossing interior psychological frontiers to reach the ever expanding horizons of the soulscape. Spiritual life always involves letting go so .that, unburdened by self-seeking, one can go forward in communion with the divine. This adventure entails a striving to compre-hend "the 'breadth, and length, and depth, and height" of Christ's love (Ep 3:18). In this regard, and with regard to the papal definition, frontiers envisage inscape and landscape--the personal and the social, the vertical, horizontal, and panoramic reaches within one's power with the help of divine grace. Frontiers can envision our environs, our neighborhood--its breadth and length-- and those living on the edge or at the fringes of our neighborhood or our society. Frontiers can include depth Revieva for Religious and height, interior knowledge that grows and expands to vision and ideals, to community and commitment. As religious men and women, committed to this journey of the soul, we are called to be "bridge-builders" on all fronts. To be effective in this mission of bridging, we have to grow unceasingly in our familiarity with the "territories" at both ends, the spiritual and the worldly. "The church is in urgent need of people of solid and deep faith, of a serious culture and a genuine human and social sensitivity, of religious who devote their lives to stand on those frontiers in order to witness and help to understand that there is in fact a profound harmony between faith and reason, between evangelical spirit, thirst for justice, and action for peace.''16 This spiritual adventure has'its own thrill and attraction. With our inner vision set on new~ and farther horizons that our Lord graciously opens up for zealous seekers, the path is "straight and narrow" (Mr 7:13-14), but along it there are obstacles and frontiers. For those disposed toward Ignatian spirituality, any discussion on "frontiers, will inevitably involve the magis, the openness to being and doing more. "We must discern our mission according to the criteria of the magis and the more universal good" (D2 22). The magis challenges one toward seeking greater depth rather than wider avenues, non multa sed multum (not many but much). The spirit of the magis transforms us into fron-tier persons, desiring to find themselves called to what is greater and better. St. Ignatius, "the pilgrim," explored the dark inte-riors of the cave of his heart before he undertook the journey to Jerusalem to "save souls." His Autobiography describes how the journey inward meant resisting dev-ilish pirates and surviving death-threatening squalls in [ 69.3 2010 Lewis ¯ Beyond Frontiers, Deep and High, Near and Far order to cross the frontiers to peaceful havens. An exam-ple from more recent times is that of Blessed Teresa of Calcutta, who indicates in her "private writings" that for the last fifty years of her life she had struggled pain-fully to feel God's presence. Through her "dark night of the soul," neverthe- The Ignatian magis brooks no comfoi't zones; it expands ou~ horizons and opens up ever-new frontiers within the heart and the world around it. less, she shone forth as an extraordinary woman of faith, who continued crossing frontiers of a more ordinary kind. The Ignatian magis brooks no comfort zones; it expands our horizons and opens up ever-new frontiers within the heart and the world around it. Only Love can satisfy our inner craving for fulfillment: Love of God, love of self, love for others. Only unconditional love breaks barriers and enables us to cross over life's various frontiers. We will reach the last frontier only when "the soul feels sat-isfied." But this will happen only with our dying breath, for, .as Augustine tells us, our hearts are resdess till they rest in God. 246 Geography of Prayer/Spiritual Frontiers To assist us in our "restless striving" to cross spir-itual frontiers, St. Ignatius has given us his Spiritual Exercises. "One tries to find one's way to the place where one desires to pray now and, when I find my way to that place, I try to stay there 'until I have been satis-fied' before moving on to a new place." This method Review for Religious applies to where I place my body (in the literal sense) and where I give my attention. This discipline of seek-ing the place of my heart's desire and trying to stay there until I have been satisfied makes a powerful disci-pline for living ordinary life as well as for finding guid-ance in prayer. A Jesuit has written: "When I pray, I pay attention to where I am (geographically, professionally, tempo-rally). I try to follow the lead of my inner disturbances (Ignatius's word for consolations or desolations), which can help me find my way to where I desire to meet, and be met by, God. If I pay attention to where I place myself in the world and where my life circumstances place me, my place in the world becomes grace for me. I can form a habit of asking whether I am called to remain in that place or whether I am called to find my way to a new place. 'Place' here can mean a given neighborhood, a particular job, a professional organization, an informal network of friends, and so forth.''~7 Familiarity with this "inner geography" helps us translate our prayer into our ministry as contemplatives in action. Hence we need to deepen our interior lives so as to better integrate our vision and mission as fron-tiersmen. Without a demanding and vigorous interior life, we allow ourselves to let go of the "contempla-. tive" side of our lives, forgetting that "in what we do in the world there must always be transparency to God" (GC35 D2 10). Without seeking and finding the paths of interiority which the Spirit of God oPens up if we are docile, we rian the risk that our apostolic generosity will wither, the meaning of our strongest commitments will become confused. Without seeking God with our inner eyes, we do not recognize how God is working in our efforts. We are likely to stop making them.~8 247 69.3 2010 Lewis ¯ Beyond Frontiers, Deep and High, Near and Far 248 Outreach Frontiers Frontiers "beyond geographical definitions await us, 'nations' that today include those who are poor and dis-placed, those who are profoundly lonely, those who ignore God's existence, and those who use God as an instrument for political purposes. Thereare new 'nations,' and we have been sent to them (D2 22). At the frontier, then, we encounter the tragedies of poverty, hunger, thirst, pain, and death--a world in need. But this discovery need not discourage us, for we also discover that God is already there at work, and God will accompany us. Be.cause God is already there, Jesuits and their collaborators will receive new energy and new life, even when mingled with anguish where 'the Divinity'is hidden.'" 19 "Ignatius and his first companions understood the importance of reaching out to people on the frontiers and at the center of society, of reconciling those who were estranged in any way. From the center in Rome, Ignatius sent Jesuits to the frontiers, to th~ new world, 'to announce the Lord to peoples and cultures that did not know him as yet.' He sent Xavier to the Indies. Thousands of Jesuits followed, preaching the gospel to many cultures, sharing knowledge with and learning from others. He also wanted Jesuits to cross other types of frontiers between rich and poor, between educated and unlearned. He wrote a letter to the Jesuits at the Council of Trent on how to behave, and insisted that they should minister to the sick. Jesuits opened colleges in Rome and in the great cities, of Europe, and they taught children in villages across the world" (D3 15). The metaphor of bridge-building is used often' in D3, "signaling a desire to link thoroughgoing incul, turation to a commitment to dialogue. The.strategy proposed is clear: Go to the frontiers, immerse your- Review for Religious selves in the cultures you encounter, and share in the conversation. These orientations are to drive Jesuit and Ignatian activity in the postmodern era.''2° "This tradition of Jesuits building bridges across frontiers becomes crucial in the context of today's world. We become able to bridge the divisions of a fragmented world only if we remember and live from three Ignatian principles: the love of God our Lord, the union of minds and hearts reflected in the personal bond of Francis Xavier and Ignatius across the seas, and the obedience that sends each one of us in mission to any part of this world" (D3 17). The "universal mission" of the Society of Jesus flows from Ignatius's vision at La Storta. He would "deploy Jesuits in a wide variety of apostolic ministries around the world. Jesuits were to go where the need was great-est, other religious were not already there, the good to be achieved was wide and deep, and their service would better society0while giving glory to God (see Constitutions SJ §622).''2~ Christ-centered Many tasks may call on us urgently, but we know that it is not only urgent tasks that define the Society's missions: "it is Christ's mission, of which we desire to be the servants, that is our urgency.''z2 Pope Benedict, in his recent encyclical Caritas in veritate (§20) empha-sized this IZhristic orientation behind all human endeav-ors toward social change for a better world: It is Christ's charity that drives us on: "caritas Christi urget nos" (2 Co 5:14). The urgency is inscribed not only in things, it is not derived solely from the rapid succession of events ahd problems, but also from the very matter that is at stake: the establishment of authen- [249 69.3 2010 Lewis * Beyond Frontiers, Deep and High, Near and Far Our o treach programs must begin from the heart, tic fraternity. The importance of this goal is such as to demand our openness to understand it in depth and to mobilize ourselves at the level of the "heart," so as to ensure that current economic and social processes evolve towards fully human outcomes. Our outreach programs, then, must begin, from the heart._ This demands that we be person-centered rather than project-oriented. Our service must touch hearts. In this outreach we will encounter personal and social frontiers, as" Christ did, but we must cross them all to get to people's hearts; for the kingdom, coming from within God's heart, is within. "The crossing of frontiers is a larger human experi-ence and is not only a matter of religious frontiers. An open church willing to relate to the world, the larger society, and many types of identities will increasingly face the question of how to go about the reality of frontiers. It is the modern version of the question of love of neighbor . Traditional Christian rec-onciliation has to express itself today in the way we face complicated frontiers and boundaries and how we cross over and reach out. :. By negotiating the frontiers and communing across them, Christians will continuously discover new dimensions of their own faith identity. ¯ Much of the Christian future lies on the periphery, in the frontier-zones. Encounter with new identities need not signify a threat to a church that understands itself as universal because it is a communion in difference.''23 "Jesus, in his outreach, embraced difference and new horizons. His ministry transcended boundaries. Review for Religious He invited his disciples to be aware of God's action in places and people they were inclined to avoid: Zacchaeus, a Syro-Phoenician woman, Roman centurions, a repen-tant thief. As water bringing life to all who thirst, he showed himself interested in every parched area of the world; and in every parched area of the world he can thus be welcomed, for all who are thirsty can understand what living water means. This image of living water can give life to all Jesuits as servants of Christ in his mission because, having tasted this water themselves, they will be eager to offer it to anyone who thirsts and to reach out to people beyond frontiers--where water may not yet have welled up--to bring a new culture of dialogue to a rich, diverse, and multifaceted world" (D2 12). The Gospels offer a vivid insight into Christ's modus operandi in his healing ministry. "Look at any healing story: the way Jesus heals the paralyzed man brought in by his friends through the roof; the leper; the woman with the issue of blood. Jesus first responds to a concrete, immediate need: the healing of a sickness. But then he goes on to respond to a deeper need: the burden of guilt or the sense of hopelessness or rejec-tion and isolation. Finally he goes deeper still and offers what they long for most, often without knowing it: the gift of the kingdom of God, of friendship with a God of unconditional love, in a way that transforms them at the core of their persons.''24 "In proclaiming God's message of love and com-passion, Jesus crossed over physical and socioreligious frontiers. His message of reconciliation was preached both to the people of Israel and to those living outside its physical and spiritual frontiers: tax collectors, prostitutes, sinners, and persons of all kinds who are marginalized and excluded. His ministry of reconciliation with God 69.3 2010 Lewis ¯ Beyond Frontiers, Deep and High, Near and Far and with one another knew no boundaries. He spoke to the powerful, challenging them to a change of heart. He showed special love for the sinner, the poor widow, and the lost sheep. The kingdom of God which he constantly preached became a vision for a world where all relation-ships are reconciled in God. Jesus confronted the powers that oppose this kingdom, and that opposition led him to death on the cross, a death which he freely accepted in keeping with his mission. On the cross we see all his words and actions revealed as expressions of the final reconciliation effected by the Crucified and Risen Lord, through whom comes the new creation in which all rela-tionships will be set right in God" (D3 14). Words from the Heart We often fall short of being imitators of Christ in our frontier ministries. Our very words betray our attitudes: we "plan," "coordinate," "organize," mostly at the head level. "These are organizational verbs, very important, necessary for moving ahead," Father Adolfo Nicolfis noted. He added that in contrast, when Jesus commis-sioned his disciples to ministry, his words revealed the heart of it. He used "verbs of life, verbs of giving life": preach the gospel to the poor, heal the sick, cleanse the lepers, expel demons, raise the dead. This clearly indicates that "the mission of God in Jesus, the business he is about, is making life flow more abundantly for humanity wherever it is lacking or blocked. And the real secret of mission is not to get rid' of the organizational verbs or the gospel verbs, but to somehow make the organizational actions that we have to perform expres-sions of the life-giving actions of the gospel.''2s Words are symbolic. When we set out with the mindset of Christ to discern "how we are at the fron- Review for Re.ligious tiers," is our definitiofi of "frontiers" congru.ent with that of the Church and the Socie,ty? Does the spirit of the magis urge us to seek and find God's presence everywhere--across the frontiers, deep and high, near and far? Notes 1 Adolfo Nicolas sJ, "Challenges and Issues in Jesuit Education," keynote address on the 150th anniversary of Jesuit education in the Philippines, Ateneo de Manila University, 13 July 2009. 2 Elliott West, Frontier, Grolier Online. 3 Marcos Recolons SJ, "What's New in the Decree on Mission?" Promotio Iustitiae 98-99 (2008/1): 18. 4 Pope Benedict XVI, allocution to the delegates of GC35, 21 February 2008. s Josd C.J. Magadia SJ, homily for the celebration of the 50th Anniversary of the Philippine Province, 27 July 2008. 6 Joseph Tetlow SJ, "At the Frontiers," Review of Ignatian Spirituality 95 (2000): 17. 7 Joseph Marianus Kuiur SJ, "Sent to the Frontiers--Decree on Mission," Jivan (August 2008): 4-6. s Nicol~is, "Challenges and Issues." 9 John O'Malley sJ, The First Jesuits (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1993), pp. 3 and 18. 10 Paul L. Locatelli SJ, "To Be Sent: Mission, Frontiers, and Contemplative Action," Review of Ignatian Spirituality 119 (2008/3): 27. 1~ Kuiur, "Sent to the Frontiers." 12 Len Altilia SJ, "The Inspiration for Frontiers," Frontiers 1, no. 1, online. 13 John Borelli SJ, "Frontiers of Dialogue for Discovery and Renewal," National Jesuit News (November 2008). 14 Borelli, "Frontiers of Dialogue." ~s Adolfo Nicolas SJ, "Jesuit Mission Today," address to Jesuits and friends at Gonzaga College, Ireland, 12 September 2009. 16 Pope Benedict XVI, allocution. 17 John Staudenmaier sJ "The Inner Geography of Prayer in the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius," UDMcasts on the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, The University of Detroit Mercy, Detroit, 7 March 2007. 69.3 2010 Lewis ¯ Beyond Frontiers, Deep and High, Near and Far 18 Franqois-Xavier Dumortier SJ, "The Same Path as Ignatius," Review of Ignatian Spirituality 119 (2008). , ,9 Locatelli, "To ~Be Sent," p. 33. 20 Adria~ Lyons SJ, "From Centre to Frontiers," Province Express, Australia, 28 May 2008. 21 Locatelli, "To Be Sent," p. 27. 22 Dumortier, "The Same Path." 23 Felix Wilfred, "Introduction: The Art of Negotiating the Frontiers," Concilium, 1999/2. 24 Nicokis, "Challenges and Issues." 2s Nicolfis, "Challenges and Issues." Equinox 254 I was once certain of so many things Certain of light and dark life and death f!'lled and empty hatred and love I was once certain of so many things But grief broke me open and they tumbled out as one jumbled mess Certainty tumbled out among them. Kathleen Atkinson OSB Review for Religious JUDITH METZ Elizabeth Seton's Spirituality of the Cross In the back flyleaf of her prayer book, Elizabeth Bayley Seton wrote a modification of the Anima Christi: Soul of Jesus sanctify me Blood of Jesus wash me Passion of Jesus comfort me Wounds of Jesus hide me Heart of Jesus receive me Spirit of Jesus enliven me Goodness of Jesus pardon me Beauty of Jesus draw me Humility of Jesus humble me Peace of Jesus pacify me Love of Jesus inflame me Kingdom of Jesus come to me Grace of Jesus replenish me Mercy of Jesus pity me Sanctity of Jesus sanctify me Purity of Jesus purify me Cross of Jesus support me Judith Metz SC is the archivist and historian for the Sisters of Charity of Cincinnati. Her address is 5900 Delhi Road; Mount St. Joseph, Ohio 45051. models of spirituality. 69.3 2010 Metz ¯ Elizabeth Seton's Spirituality of the Cross Nails of Jesus hold me in life, in death - in time and Eternity - in the hour of Death defend me, call me to come to thee, receive me with thy Saints in glory everlasting.I Elizabeth loved this prayer, writing several paraphrases of it as she contemplated at various times the outpour-ing of Jesus' love in his suffering and death. From when she was young, her spirituality found a focus in his love, shown in his giving of himself, in his willingness to suf-fer for us--and in her wish to return this love. Her father gave her a cross which she often wore, remarking that she loved it "as the mark of my Captain and Master whom I was to follow so valiantly" (3a:514). There are many references in her letters and journals to this cross, such as: "looked at my crucifix"; "Calvary is the rendezvous"; "we must be crucified." As she was nursing her dying husband, she wrote: "Not only willing to take up my cross but kissed it too" (l:257).During a tumultuous time after her return to New York, Elizabeth observed: "When people say 'so much trouble has turned her br~in' - well, I kiss my crucifix, which I have loved for so many years, and say 'they are only mistaken'" (1:401). People sometimes comment that they find little affinity with St. Elizabeth Seton because her spirituality seems negative. For them she dwells so much on suf-fering and the cross--on joy at embracing hardship in imitation of Jesus--that her spirituality does not attract them. ~ Yet the imitation of Christ must be the center of every Christian life. Holy people through the ages have shown us by their lives that the more people recognize God's outpouring love, demonstrated by Christ's sacri-fice on the cross, the more they need to imitate that self-giving love: "If anyone wants to be a follower of mine, Review for Religious let him renounce himself and take up his cross and fol-. low me. For anyone who wants to save his life will lose it; but :anyone who loses his life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it" (Mk 8:34-35). Although Ignatius Loyola did not write the Anima Christi, which we have already reflected on, he placed it at the beginning of his Spiritual Exercises and often referred to it. And he did write the Suscipe that most of us are familiar with: ."Take, Lord, ~ receive all my liberty, my mem-ory, my understanding, my entire will; all that I have and possess." In her lnterior Castle, Teresa of Avila observed: "His Majesty could not grant us a greater favor than to give us a life that would be an imitation of the life his beloved Son lived. Thus I hold for certain that these favors are meant to fortify our weakness., that we may be able to imitate him in his great sufferings." Like these great saints, Elizabeth Seton was also com-mitted to living in imitation of Jesus. She wrote in her Journal: "The cup which our Father has given Us, shall we not drink it? Blessed Savior, by the bitterness of thy pains We may estimate the force of thy love . . . and therefore, if thou so ordainest it, welcome disappointment and pov-erty; welcome sickness and pain -welcome even shame, and contempt, and calumny. If this be a rough and thorny path, it is one which thou hast gone before us. Where we see thy footsteps we cannot repine" (3b:21). Elizabeth was able to enter into Jesus' life, to expe-rience his outpouring love in the events of the passion narratives, in a way that made them very real and rele-vant to her life. She recognized that Christ's story was her Elizabeth Seton was O mitted t0 living in ,imitation of ]esus: 69.3 2010 258 Metz ¯ Elizabeth Seton °s Spirituality of the Cross story. Her part was to enter into her own life and joyfully embrace the cross as a way of being in union with her beloved. She experienced overwhelming gratitude at what Christ had done for her, and she knew that her response must be to "drink the cup" and be "baptized with the baptism" of which Jesus spoke. This spirituality of hers permeated her prayer and supported her through many difficult times. One of these was the month she spent in the lazaretto with her desper-ately ill husband and young daughter upon their arrival at Livorno, Italy, in November 1803. She described the experience to her dearly loved sister-in-law Rebecca Seton: "You could not rest in your bed if you saw [me] as [I am] sitting in one corner of an immense Prison bolted in and barred with as much ceremony as any monster of mischief might be - a single window double grated with iron thro' which, if I should want anything, I am to call a sentinel, with a fierce cocked hat, and long rifle gun." "On the ship-mattresses spread on the cool floor my Willy and Anna are sound asleep, and I ~trust that God, who has given him strength through a day of such exertion will carry us on - He is our all indeed -. God is with us - and if sufferings abound in us,his consolations also greatly abound, and far exceed all utterance." "What shall we say - this is the hour of trial, the Lord support and strengthen us in it. Retrospections being anguish - press forward toward the mark and prize" (1:251,253,254). As the Setons passed their weeks, of quarantine, Elizabeth strove to keep her equilibrium by prayer and her "hidden Treasures,;--her Bible, commentaries, ser-mons, and The Imitation of Christ ~that she had carried with her from New York. She poured out her heart in her Journal, where she lamented time and again how she "read, prayed, we.pt, and prayed again" (1:256,257,265). Review for Religious But as she contemplated her situation she was also able to note: "Not only willing to take up my cross but kissed it too . I find my present opportunity a Treasure - and my confinement of Body a liberty of Soul which I may never again enjoy whilst they are united . If I could forget my God one moment at this time I should go mad -but he hushes all - Be still and know that I am God your Father" (1:257,258). With the passing days William Seton's health con-tinued to worsen so that by 5 December a doctor was called. Though he feared that Elizabeth's beloved hus-band "might be gone in a few hours," he continued to hold on. On 14 December, Elizabeth wrote: "The damp-ness about us would be thought dangerous for a pdrson in health, and my W's sufferings - Oh well I know that God is above. Capitano,. if I thought our condition the providence of man, instead of the 'weeping Magdalene' as you so graciously call me, you would find me a lioness willing to burn your Lazaretto about your ears . But O my Heavenly Father I know that these contradictory events are permitted and guided by thy Wisdom, which only is light" (1:270,271). Released from their confinement on 19 December, the lit-de family traveled to lodgings in Pisa. On Chrisunas Day Elizabeth put a little wine in a glass and said differ-ent portions of psalms and prayers which she had marked in her books, hoping for a happy moment. "We took the cup of Thanksgiving setting aside the sorrow of time, in the views of the joy of Eternity," she noted (1:273). Elizabeth then began the deathbed vigil that ended two days later. She recorded, "On Tuesday morning 27th December - [William's] soul was released - and mine from a struggle next to death." She continued, "In all this it is not necessary to dwell on the mercy and consoling 69.3 2010 Metz ¯ Elizabeth Seton's Spirituality of tbe Cross 260 presence of my dear Redeemer, for no mortal strength could support what I experienced" (1:274,275). The tears, prayers, and anguish Elizabeth suffered during her long watch with her sick and dying husbandincreased her trust in God and led her to a deeper identification with her suffering Savior. Her experiences became a part of her spirituality. Her continued trust in Divine Providence during her remaining time in Italy led her along paths that she could not have imagined. Impressed with the Catholic faith and practices of her Italian hosts, the Episcopalian Elizabeth entered into a long and anguished discernment over whether to remain in the church of her birth or to join the Catholic Church. For nearly a year she considered the argu-ments on each side, trying to listen to the voice of God. Longing for support and advice, she wrote to her Italian friend Antonio Filicchi: "Judge of my disappointment when only a few lines [from you] rewarded my anxious anticipations - however, at. the foot of my cross I found consolation, and kissing it over and over I repeated and repeat, there only I am never disappointed" (1:326). Elizabeth's uncertainty seemed to grow through the months, and she wrote of being "half dead with the inward struggle" (1:372). Yet, she confided to Antonio, "when some hours of consolation come, I think 'hard as the trial is, yet it is sweet' - I never knew till now what prayer is - never thought of fasting - though now it is more a habit than eating, never knew how to give up all, and send my spirit to mount Calvary, nor how to con-sole and delight it in the society of angels - 'Patience,' says my soul, 'He will not let you and your little ones perish, and if yet your life is given in the conflict, at the last he will nail all to his cross and receive you to his mercy'" (1:339). Review for Religious Elizabeth's decision to join the Catholic Church gained her inner peace and certitude, but led, as she later recorded, to "most painful remembrances now - yet grateful for the order of our Grace, so evident through all" (3a:519). The three years that she remained in New York after her conversion were difficult and gave her ample opportunity to share in the sufferings of Christ. Anti-Catholic sentiment made it hard for her to support her children and deprived her of much that her friends and family had provided. Her choice also occasioned some other troubles. Her two youngest Seton sisters-in-law, Harriet and Cecilia, and their cousin Eliza Farquhar were drawn to Elizabeth's Catholic fervor. When family members expressed disapproval, Cecilia's enthusiasm only grew stronger. Having been raised by Elizabeth from age seven, this young woman felt close bonds that were' strengthened by their shared desire for a devout living of their Christian faith. As she was. departing for Italy, Elizabeth had cau-tioned he.r young prot~g& "If you find that there are any obstacles in.your way, and doubtless you will find many as every Christian does in the fulfillment of his duty, still Persevere with yet more earnestness, and rejoice to bear your share in the Cross which is Our Passport and Seal to the Kingdom of our Redeemer" (1:224). Now, as Cecilia adamantly pursued the course of following Elizabeth into the Catholic Church, the younger woman met with severe opposition and even threats from her family. Elizabeth supported her as best she could, writing on Christmas Eve 1805: "My dear dear child I beg, beseech, implore you, to offer up all your pains, your Sorrows, and vexations to God that he will unite them with the Sorrows, the pangs and anguish which Our adored Redeemer bore for us on the Cross 261 69.3 2010 Metz ¯ Elizabeth Seton's Spirituality of tbe Cross "Dwelling under :the Shadow of His Cross we will cheerfully gather the thorns which will be t~urned hereafter into a joyful crown" 262] - place yourself in spirit at the foot of that cross, and entreat that a drop of that precious blood there shed may fall on you to enlighten strengthen and support your Soul in this life and ensure its eternal Salvation in the next" (1:398). When Cecilia joined the Catholic Church, a violent storm broke in the extended Seton family. For a time she was confined to her room, threats were made to send her to the West Indies, and even to burn Elizabeth's house down over her head. Eventually the new convert tied her clothes up in a bundle and went to liv~ with Elizabeth for a time.2 During Cecilia's period of trial Elizabeth kept a daily spiritual jour-nal. In it she shared her own prayer expe-riences, along with offering counsel, and encouragement. In one entry she noted: "Pain and Resignation instead of the Treasure [Eucharist] this day -but He is then most near - while Weeping under his Cross we are there content to stay" (1:470). In another, Elizabeth encouraged her young relative: "May we never leave the sheltering wing, but dwelling under the Shadow of His Cross we will cheer-fully gather the thorns which will be turned hereafter into a joyful crown" (1:473). When Elizabeth Seton made the decision to move her family to Baltimore in spring 1808, her only hesi-tation was leaving her young relative and confidante behind in New York. Cecilia wanted to accompany Review for Religious Elizabeth but also felt an obligation to care for her brother James's children. Elizabeth missed Cecilia terribly and buoyed her-self with the thought that "there is no distance for souls united as ours" (2:6). During the year the two were sepa-rated, Cecilia continued to face difficulties and obsta-cles to her hopes of joining her beloved "Sister," as she referred to Elizabeth, while Elizabeth was peaceful and delighted with her new situation. In this light Elizabeth wrote to her "most precious child": "It is poor Sister who must beg you to pray for her --I am at rest my darling while you are mounting the heights of Sion - often too I sleep in the Garden, while you are sharing the bitter cup, but it is not to be so for long, his mercies are end-less and I shall not be left without my portion" (2:21). The two were joyfully reunited in June 1809 when Cecilia arrived in Maryland with plans to join the newly forming community of the Sisters of Charity. She enthu- ¯ siastically plunged into this new life, but her delicate health continued to decline. By early 1810 Elizabeth wrote to her friend Eliza Sadler: "My heart faints when I think of this separation. No one can conceive of.what she is to me - but - but-fiat" (2:111).,,Cecilia died of tuberculosis within several months, having well learned the spiritual lessons offered by suffering., ,As Cecilia Seton passed from Elizabeth's life, another Cecilia became an intimate companion. Cecilia O'Conway, a young woman from Philadelphia, was planning to travel to Europe to become a nun. Instead, On the recommendation of her. priest-director, she became the first woman to join Elizabeth at her school in Baltimore~ These two women shared many of the same spiritual goals and became friends almost .at once. Cecilia was enthusiastic about becoming a Sister of 69.3 2010 Metz * Elizabeth Seton's Spirituality of the Cross Charity, and through the trials of the early years offered loving support to Elizabeth, who referred to her friend as "the angel of the Community. a true. and solid comfort" (2:141). Cecilia was indeed a true comfort as Elizabeth struggled through the difficulties of establish-ing a religious community and bore the sorrov¢ of'the deaths of two of her daughters. In August 1817 the two women were separated when Cecilia was amongthe first sisters sent to take charge 6f the .Catholic orphafi asylum in New York City. She was not happy to be separated from Elizabeth or to be thrust into the bustle of city life. But her spiritual mother chal-lenged her: "My own Cecilia - going on her heavenly errand and to crucify Self- . . . if you suffer, so much the better for our high journey above - the only fear I have is that you will let the old string pull too hard for solitude and silence, but look to the Kingdom of souls -, . this is not a country, my dear one, for Solitude and Silence, but of warfare and crucifixion- You are not to stay in his silent agonies of the garden at night, but go from post to pillar to the very fastening on the cross and mind, my lady, how you dare glahce a thought at pull-ing out a nail which he put in with my hand, while his own so dear will hammer it up to the very head I expect - I beg him with a mother's agony to do it softly and tenderly - would wish so to hold your dear head while he does it, but he answers, 'no one held his'., but yet he will hold it himself supporting with one hand, and fastening with the other" (2i498-499). During Cecilia's years in New York, she and Elizabeth maintained a lively correspondence .chal-lenging each other to an ever deeper union with their Redeemer. In their letters they exhorted each other to accept the sufferings, both physical and emotional, that R~view for Religious they were experiencing, and to receive them in the spirit of participating in the Lord's passion. "May you enjoy true peace in Him who has nailed us," Elizabeth wrote; "I would not pull the smallest nail out for a thousand worlds" (2:682). In her newsy letters Elizabeth kept Cecilia apprised of her declining health, telling her in July 1818, "I have no symptoms now of hastening Death as when I wrote you [earlier] - slow, slow and sure" (2:569). A few months later Elizabeth reminded her spiritual daughter of "how little is all that passes with this life . therefore we must be so careful to meet our grace," She then contin-ued: "Isaac come forth - the wood and fire are here, let not the Victim be wanting" (2:595). And the following month Elizabeth urged the younger woman to "take the abundant sweet heavenly grace from day to day, only seeking and seeing him in all our little duties . . . and taking from. the hands of all around us every daily cross and trial as if he gave it himself" (2:600). After two years in New York, Cecilia returned to the motherhouse in Emmitsburg, where she could again share her days with her beloved friend. With Elizabeth's health continuing to decline, Cecilia became one of her nurses. Staying close by her bed, she made sure Elizabeth had a crucifix available to assist her prayer, and she was present among the mourners when Elizabeth's last hour arrived. Am6ng EliEabeth's writings meditation on "the communion lof the cross." 69.3 2010 Metz * Elizabeth Seton's Spirituality of the Cross 266 Among Elizabeth's writings is a meditation on "the communion of the cross." In it she speaks of "the hap-piness of receiving our Lord and Savior in the holy Eucharist," yet points out that "we also receive him by the communion of his cross." "So," she continues, "when he invites us to come and receive him in afflic-tions' and sufferings, we should receive his chalice with the same ardor, and drink his Blood by faith . The great advantage of the communion of the cross is that we receive it when our Lord himself pleases and at the time he sees best." "Unhappily," she reflects, "we are. apt to think the very least suffering is too much, because we are lovers with our lips rather than our heart, while the true lover of Christ can never have enough of his cross." "All he asks of us is our good Will," but we. also "should bring the burning fire of love and gratitude" (3a:419-422). Elizabeth's burning love of God and desire to imi-tate Jesus was something that grew within her as she matured through her life. It gave her a deep insight into the necessity of losing herself in order to gain union with God: She understood, as had many holy women and men before her, that she was invited to emulate Jesus' self-giving love - that "the true lover of Christ can never have enough of his cross," and as they, carry the cross they "should bring the burning fire of love and gratitude." ~ The spirituality of the cross has been part of the Christian message from the time Jesus taught on this earth. Great saints, theologians, and spiritual guides through the centuries have stressed this same message. Today's Christian leaders continue to stress, as essential of our spirituality, our participation in Jesus' self-giving love, The German theologian Jiirgen Moltmann sees a kind of alchemy of Review for Religious love, where all the negativity and suffering of the world is touched by God and transformed into the victory of life.3 Johannes Metz, in his classic Poverty of Spirit, writes: "The legacy of God's total commiunent to humankind, the proof of God's fidelity to our poverty, is the cross [and] no one is exempted from the poverty of the cross.''4 Jessica Powers, in her poem "The Sign of the Cross," offers this same wisdom:5 The lovers of Christ lift out their hands to the great gift of suffering. For how could they seek to be warmed and clothed and delicately fed, when He the worthy went forth, wounded and hated, and grudged of even a place to lay His head? This is the badge of the friends of the Man of Sorrows: the mark of the cross, faint replica of His. Choose it, my heart. It is a beautiful sign. Notes ~ Regina Bechtle SC and Judith Metz SC, Elizabeth Barley Seton: Collected Writings, 4 vols. (New York: New City Press, 2000, 2002, 2006), vol. 3, part 2, pp. 74-75, hereafter cited in parentheses, thus: (3b:74-75). 2 Annabelle Melville, Elizabeth Barley Seton (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1951), p. 119. 3 Jiirgen Moltmann, The Crucified God, as described in Elizabeth Johnson, Consider Jesus: Waves of Renewal in Christology (New York: Crossroad, 1990), p. 121. 4 Johannes B. Metz, Poverty of Spirit (New York, Paulist Press, 1968), pp. 19-20. ~ Regina Siegfried ASC and Robert E Morneau, Selected Poetry of Jessica Powers (Kansas City: Sheed and Ward, 1989), p. 150. 267 69.3 2010 AVIS CLENDENEN A Rare Humility and a Future-Facing Myth 2,68 Lheard a story a few years ago that got into the arrow of my bones and became a "dangerous memory." This term was coined by Johann Baptist Metz, who described it as an earlier experience breaking into our present lives and revealing new and provocative insights for the future. Such a breakthrough casts light on the deceptive nature of something we considered an evident good. It is a dangerous and incalculable visitant from the past. This memory has future content,~ The memory I wish to share is a story told by Sister of Mercy Betty Barrett on the occasion of her sixtieth jubilee as a vowed religious. Sister Betty Barrett entered the congregation in 1945. She devoted most of her ministerial life to education, becoming the president of Saint Xavier College in Chicago in the turbulent 1960s. In 1966 she supported an innovative idea to invite major Avis Clendenen most recently wrote for us in 2008. She is pro-fessor of religious studies and the Sister Irene Dugan RC Scholar in Spirituality at Saint Xavier University; 3700 West 103rd Street; Chicago, Illinois 60655. Review for Religious theological architects of the Second Vatican Council to the college for the inaugural symposium of the newly formed Pope John xxIII Institute. The tag line of the John xx]II Institute quoted John xxJII's call "to dedicate ourselves to that work which our era demands of us. ¯ remembering we are not on earth to guard a museum, but to cultivate a flourishing garden of life." . Imagine this small U.S. women's Catholic college thinking itself capable of hosting at one symposium Yves Congar, Jean Dani61ou, Charles Davis, Henri de Lubac, Johann Baptist Metz, John Courtney Murray, Edward Schillebeeckx, Karl Rahner, and others as well. The European theologians would for the first time bring the insights of the council documents to North America. For some, this would be their ~first trip to the United States. They all came. This gathering is exactly what President Sister Betty Barrett accomplished in early 1966, only four months after the council's close.2 The formation of the John xxlII Institute and the plan for the symposium became controversial. Archbishop John Cody of Chicago expressed reserva-tions about the symposium. He wrote to Sister Betty saying that such a gathering of theologians did not coin-cide with his norm for theological activities. He then issued a public decree that all ecclesiastical entities in the archdiocese must first obtain certification of cre-dentials from him before inviting to Chicago any priest from outside the archdiocese. All the council theologians invited were priest-theologians. The situation became an international story that saw the canonical authority of the local bishop as opposing academic freedom in institutions of higher education. The American press described the symposium, which drew more than three thousand participants to the little-known campus, as "an 269 69.3 2010 Clendenen ¯ A Rare Humility and a Future-Facing Myth 270 event of unprecedented proportions," "an intellectual feast," and "a complex and strange event in the history of Catholic colleges at that time in North America." Interesting as it is, this event is not the key story of this essay. It is background for discussing the matter of dangerous memory. Sister Betty saw.the Second Vatican Council as Pope John xxIII did. She saw that aggiornamento was intimately tied,to justice and peace. While president, she became the first woman religious to be named to the Illinois Human Relations Commission. After her presidency she continued to advance the vision and mis-sion of ecclesial renewal and the claims of the social gospel through a variety of positions such as her min-istry with the Eighth Day Center for Justice and the Catholic Interracial Council. In her seventies she went to Central America to work with the poor, Though she tried desperately, she never learned Spanish well enough to speak or truly understand it. In her eighties she was asked at her sixtieth jubilee in April 2003 to share memories with those gathered to celebrate with her~ I shall paraphrase Sister Betty but speak for her in the first person. You know that when I went to Central America I could not speak the language of the people. You know I hold degrees of all kinds and functioned at a tremendous level of responsibility for many years while in the ministry of higher education. Yet, even after years and years of living among these beautiful people and interacting with them every day, I never managed to speak with them in their native tongue. So I was forced, so to speak, to plumb new depths of human communica-tion. While there, I came to realize that "being Review for Religious there"--presence--is what is most important in our ministry. Presence conveys a meaning that tran-scends even the need for words. This I learned very late in my ministerial life. Honoring this jubilee year of mine and know-ing that my ability to travel would only continue to diminish, the community offered me airfare to travel a last time to Honduras to see my friends. So a few weeks ago I took that trip. I went to the home of a family with whom I had been present during moments of joy and pain in their lives over a span of years. I walked into their humble living room and noticed something. There on the wall surround-ing the crucifix, were four pictures, each rever-ently hung near the cross. There was, of course, a picture 6f Our Lady of Guadalupe; a picture of Mother Catherine McAuley, the founder of the Sisters of Mercy; a picture of Archbishop Oscar Romero; and . a picture of me! What can I say to you about that moment in my life? Seeing the cross and our Lady, seeing that this family was so deeply touched by the min-istries of the Sisters of Mercy that they placed a portrait of a !9th century Irish woman near their own beloved Oscar Romero--and then to see my picture in that company! It was a moment of abject'humility, wonder, awe, an'd gratitude I will never forget. I could never really talk with them the way I am talking with you now, yet I was present to them over the long haul of many years. I share this story with you as an act of gratitude and humility for the gift of these sixty years of ser- 69.3 2010 Clendenen ¯ A Rare Humility and a Future-Faring Myth 272] vice, and as a testimony of wonder to 'a God who can do more in us than we can "ask or imagine" (Ep 3:20). I was mesmerized by her tale. In hearing it, my own consciousness was altered forever about ministry and mystery, about growing old yet remaining ever new, and about the lost art of humility. I recognized her story from'the past as a memory bearing future content. This elegantly simple parable resounded in me, taking on the force of a great myth; it became part of the life I desire. I say this not with any intention to mimic her experience, but in the inspiring hope of living the nearly lost art of humility. Sister Betty told a little tale about one family, and they--all unaware--became a dangerous memory precisely because she knew her telling it could break into the present moment and bring us new and danger-ous insights. Such lives disrupt self-interest and ambition by being a vivid picture of largeness of mind and heart, which our noisy egos often do not notice. The mythic story of this elderly nun speaks :to the truth of the poet Mary Oliver's words: What I loved in the beginning, I think, was mosdy myself. Never mind that I had to,. since somebody had to. o That was many years ago. Since then I have gone out from my confinement~s, though with difficulty. And I have l~ecome the child of the clouds, and of hope. I have become the friend of the enemy, whoever that is. I have become older and, cherishing what I have learned, I have become younger. And what do. I risk to tell you this, which is all I know? Love yourself. Then forget it. Then, love the world.3 Review for Religious Living in an Age of Entitlement That last line is not an easy task in today's world. More than a decade ago I read, "The narcissistic per-sonality has become the most prominent~ personality type in the Western world.''4 At that time the statement caught me up short. Now I find it the lens through which I view the world I inhabit. In their new book The Narcissism Epidemic: Living in the Age of Entitlement (2009), the psychologists Jean Twenge and W. Keith Campbell have documented and analyzed the troubling cultural trends of the past three decades. They suggest that North American culture itself is in the grip of a narcissism epidemic. According to Theodore Millon, professor of psychiatry at Harvard University, profes-sor of psychology at Miami University, and leading authority on personality disorders, "the label narcissism connotes more than .mere egocentricity. Narcissism sig-nifies, more specifically, that these individuals overvalue their personal worth, direct their affections toward themselves rather than others, and expect that others will recognize their unique and special value.''5 While I hesitate to labor the point, I think the fol-lowing list of traits and behavioral tendencies of the narcissistic personality can give us pause, in which to examine human consciousness. Those leaning toward narcissism tend ¯ To grandiosity, haughtiness, snobbishness, arrogance; ¯ To feelings of entitlement; praise for performance; ¯ To exploitation of and insensitivity toward others; ¯ To crave attention, which they see as deserved without need for reciprocity; ¯ To flout conventional rules and expectations of shared social living; 69.3 2010 Clendenen ¯ A Rare I-Iumili~y and a Future-Facing ~4yth ¯ To assume and often find that others feel hon-ored by their relationship, or to quickly train others to admire and obey them, with the result that the admirers insulate, them from self-aware hess of their limitations; ¯ To idealize those who satisfy their needs while treating contemptuously those who do not; the shifting of overvaluation to denigration occurs frequently in the same relationship; ¯ To preoccupation with personal adequacy, . power, prestige, and status; ¯ To heightened sensitivity to any form of criticism; ¯ To intolerance of perceived affronts to self-esteem that question their assumed inherent specialness; ¯ To take liberties with facts by embellishing them to maintain illusion of self-worth; ¯ To exaggerate abilities and accomplishments; to inflate and justify what they feel is due them, while depreciating those who refuse to accept or enhance their self-image; ¯ To use rationalization as a regulatorymechanism to cope with the inevitable personal failures or social humiliations by devising plausible reasons for self-justification and doing so with litde con-cern for others; and ¯ To lack interpersonal empathy.6 This detailed list of a narcissistic character is now embedded in the general population (and culture) where once such a description of human personality would have qualified as clinical narcissistic disorder. Ttie ethos of selfishness, individualism, utilitarianism, and instru-mentalism is taken for granted, not seen as problematic, and thus often remains unexamined. In turn, the values of community, altruism, and the life of the virtues are Review for Religious being undermined. A few years ago I heard the coor-dinator of the Jesuit Volunteers report that there was a lot of interest among young people who wanted to serve on their own terms. He referred to this as narclsslsnc idealism." According to Twenge and Campbell, no single event initiated the epidemic; instead, the values deep in the American psyche shifted Slowly toward individu- ~ alism, self-admiration, materialism, incivility, and entitlement. "Like a disease," they write, "narcissism is caused by certain factors, spreads through particular chan-nels, appears as various ~ ~ ~' symptoms, and might be ° - halted by preventive measures and cures. Narcissism is a psych0-cultural affliction rather than a physical disease, but the model works remarkably well.''7 Six years before The Narcissism Epidemic, Dr. ,Robert Moore, professor of psychoanalysis, culture, and spiritu-ality at Chicago Theological Seminary, in his book Facing the Dragon: Confronting Personal and Spiritual Grandiosity, announced the new contemporary crisis as "the epidemic of unregulated human grandiosity." Grandiosity refers to holding fantasies or embracing desires that are greater than your real life can support. According to Moore, either grandiosity makes you manic in running around to meet unrealistic demands or makes you depressed because your desires are essentially unachievable. Moore rallies our intellects and emotions to break through the existential denial of our "naive male" and "naive female" ,Cultural narcissism is d estructively shaping a :collusive and self-promoting ' way of livi g: 69.3 2010 Clendenen ¯ A Rare Humility and a Future-Facing Myth 276] approach to the human situation by courageously con-fronting the aggressive cultural selling of pathological narcissism as a normative vision for human life.s The Narcissism Epidemic is replete with examples that reveal how cultural narcissism is destructively shaping a collusive and self-promoting way of living. In a chapter tided "Superspreaders!" they tell a tale from the televi-sion series "My Super Sweet 16": "Atlanta teen Allison tells a party planner she wants to block off part of Peachtree Street so there can be a parade for 'my grand entrance.' Peachtree is a major thoroughfare, the plan-ner reminds her. She responds, 'My sweet 16 is more important than wherever they have to be.' But there's a hospital across the street, the planner cautions--what if an ambulance can't get to the hospital? 'They can wait one second. Or they can go around,' she says cavalierly. Amid all of this, Allison's mother just listens. When the planner finally turns to her in exasperation, she says, 'If Allison wants it, make it happen.' So much for that dying person in the ambulance." The narcissistic "enti-dement" expressed here by the mother points to the odd perpetual adolescence of many American adults. Twenge and Campbell say that adolescence, the most narcissis-tic time of life, is being extended beyond all previous limits.9 Clearly such happenings are not isolated aberra-tions; they are cultural markers of the superspreading of a distorted collective psyche, that needs attention, fast. In Waking Up in Time: Finding Inner Peace in Times of Accelerating Change, the physicist and futurist Peter Russell said, "Our power to change the world may have made prodigious leaps but our internal development, the development of our attitudes and values, has pro-gressed more slowly. We seem to be as prone to greed, aggression, shortsightedness, and self-centeredness as Review for Religious we were 2,500 years ago . If we are to survive the critical times we are now passing through, it is essen-tial we undergo a profound shift in values and awaken to our inner truths and our full spiritual potential.''1° Effecting such a shift and awakening has been the mis-sion of Benetvision: A Resource and Research Center for Contemporary Spirituality founded by Benedictine Sister Joan Chittister. Interestingly, Twenge, Campbell, Moore, Russell, and Chittister11 all suggest a return to the lost art of the virtuous life as a way to stem and bring healing to the epidemic of entidement and grandiosity that marks and mars our current North American culture. Risking Humility The final chapter of The Narciss#m Epidemic, "Treating the Epidemic of Narcissism," sees the recovery of authentic humility as the way to lessen the narcissism in our lives and in our culture. Humility is the counter-balance to narcissism, the creative opposite to its viru-lence. Modesty, lack of pretense, absence of arrogance, and refinement of character--so evident in Sister Betty's jubilee tale--are vitally necessary in today's personal and communal reflection. Her unaffected wonder at finding her own picture in the company of Oscar Romero's, and Catherine McAuley's, and Our Lady of Guadalupe's, at the foot of the cross has to make you and me wonder: Do we truly believe that God can do more in us than we ever imagined--or could ever imagine? Her awe at seeing what she and her ministry meant to this poor, loving family puts us in awe, even a feeling of danger. What does this mean for the many in our country whose lives are far too self-focused and comfortable? Has a cer-tain impoverishment accompanied i:he world's material progress? Have we--ourselves, our communities, our 69.3 2010 Clendenen * A Rare Humility and a Future-Facing Myth 278 Humility is the ancient ever-new ~irtue that ke~s us rooted in our earthiness and able to savor our human limits as gifts. culture--settled into a certain mediocrity, an exagger-ated feeling of entidement? Is our ministry simple and un-self-conscious enough to be a wondrous conduit for God's goodness and inspire a needy people's transcendent gratitude? Is the path to greater human success and hap-piness much more toward inwardness than upwardness? Humility is the ancient ever-new virtue that keeps us rooted in our earthiness and able to savor our human limits as gifts. Sister Betty felt her lack of facility with Spanish as a weakness, and therein was her humble open-ness to receive new graces and new skills, even in her seventies. She brought those graces to some of God's people in their times of joy and grief. Twelve-step recovery has something to say about this. It advises people to strive for spiritual prog-ress, not perfection, and to admit their powerless-ness, accept their limits, and thereby find true freedom. Such yielding in honesty to a Power greater than ourselves enables people to risk humility. In that humility they find themselves able to understand the Beatitudes (Mt 5:1-12) and to risk living in meekness, gentleness, empathy, self-donating love, and freely chosen accountability. The word humility comes from the Latin word humi-lis, meaning "low," which, in turn, comes from the Latin humus, which means "earth" or "dirt" or "soil." The 12th-century Benedictine abbess and mystic Hildegard of Bingen understood the dangers of not paying atten- Review for Religious tion to nature and all natural things. She devoted one of her many writings to virtues and vices. She was con-vinced that virtues are more than moral habits: they are therapeutic forces within human nature that can produce wonderful transformations. In her legendary Scivias (a Latin abbreviation for. "knowing the Lord's ways"), she said, "Virtue is like a warm garment in a cold world; it is the source of charm in a harsh world" (~1.1.4). Hildegard also wrote the following in one of her many letters of advice to religious leaders: Walk through the valley of humility and know peace. Lose your titanic, hard-to-satisfy ego. A greedy self-esteem is just a steep mountain you'll find dangerous to climb. It's also tricky (if not impossible) to come down from such heights, and anyhow the summit is too small for community. Focus on Love's splendid garden instead. Gather the flowers of humility and simplicity of soul. Study God's patience. Keep your eyes open.12 Sister Betty Barrett's humble, warm, and charming story carries a wallop, as myths do. It is much more than an elderly sister's pleasant memory. It is a dangerous memory. It can affect the future. Notes ~ Johann Baptist Metz, "The Future in the Memory of Suffering," Concilium 76 (1972), p. 15. 2 [See The Word in History: The St. Xavier Forum, ed. T. Patrick Burke (New York: Sheed and Ward; 1966). Ed.] 3 Mary Oliver, "To Begin With, the Sweet Grass," Evidence (Boston: Beacon Press, 2009), pp. 38-39. 4 L. Sperry and H.L. Ansbacker, "The Concept of Narcissism and Narcissistic Personality Disorder," Psychopathology and Psychotherapy (Washington, D.C.: Accelerated Development, 1996), p. 349. 5 Theodore Millon and George S. Everly Jr., Personality and Its Disorders: A Biosocial Learning Approach (New York: John Wiley and Sons, 1985), p. 70. [279 69.3 2010 Clendenen ¯ A Rare Humility and a Future-Facing Myth 6 Theodore Millon, Personality-Guided Therapy (New York: John Wiley and Sons, 1999), pp. 433-463. 7 Jean M. Twenge and W. Keith Campbell, Living in the Age of Entitlement: The Narcissism Epidemic (New York: Free Press, 2009), p. 2. s Robert L. Moore, Facing the Dragon: Confronting Personal and Spiritual Grandiosi~y (Wilmette: Chiron Publications, 2003), pp. 61, 68, 69, 145-146. 9 Twenge and Campbell, Living, pp. 100.101,234. The TV stoW and other insights in this article also appear in "Book Notes," Horizon: Journal of the National Religious Vocation Conference 35, no. 1 (Fall 2009): 34-35. 10 Peter Russell, Waking Up in Time: Finding Inner Peace in Times of Accelerating Change (Novato, California: Origin Press, 1992), pp. 38, 154. 11 See Joan D. Chittister, "Pride and Humility," in Heart of Flesh: A Feminist Spirituality for Women and Men (Grand Rapids: ~William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1998), pp. 89-106. ~2 Carmen Acevedo Butcher, Hildegard of Bingen: A Spiritual Reader (Brewster, Massachusetts: Paraclete Press, 2007), p. 159. You who calmed. You who calmed the winds and sea, Jesus, calm and center me. Draw me in and hold my gaze Soothe and silence me these days. Deep is calling unto deep. I give you all my cares to keep. You who calmed the winds and sea. Jesus, calm and center me. Mary Jan6 Higgins RSM Review for Religious ROBERT J. NOGOSEK Religious Life as an Acceptable Sacrifice When I was nineteen years old and a university student, I made a weekend retreat in the Gethsemani Trappist monastery in Kentucky. I was ~rying to decide whether or not I should enter religious life. At one of the retreat con-ferences, an elderly monk printed in block let-ters on the blackboard the word success, putting two vertical lines through each S to make it a dollar sign. He said the world sees success as making money, but real success in life is not about dollars. We needed to turn one vertical line sideways and make a cross. ~ This said a lot about the Trappist life I was observing. The white-robed monks seemed to live a foolish life not at all conducive to hap-piness° keeping silence, arising in the middle Robert J. Nogosek CSC has been a ~heology profes-sor and a parish pastor among other responsibilities. His address is P.O. Box 929; Notre Dame, Indiana 46556. liv!np religious life 69.3 2010 Nogosek ¯ Religious Life as an Acceptable Sacrifice 282 of the night to chant psalms together in a cold chapel, and eating crusty bread in a diet often deprived of meat. But I saw in the monks a remarkable humor I had never seen before. It seemed that for them life was a big joke. I decided I wanted the joy they had, and their way of seeing the meaning of life in this world. Back at college I returned to my sophomore classes. One of the courses was on the four Gospels, printed in parallel columns to show similarities and differences in the story of Jesus. As I s~t in class somewhat bored one spring afternoon, it suddenly occurred to me that the Gospels were practical--that living the Gospels made good sense. I saw this in the story of the rich young man in Matthew 19. He already had more than enough money and possessions while keeping all the command-ments, but was still discontented. He asked what more he could do to have a better life. Jesus graciously invited him to join the community, of disciples, but first he must sell all he had and give the money to the poor. This is how the Trappist monk had explained success. It helped me to see that by joining a religious community I could live the gospel in a literal way, like those who had fol-lowed Jesus in Galilee. The greatest day in my life came some months later on my clothing day. Upon receiving the religious habit with many others that day, I saw myself as having left. the world to join with the others in a life centered on friendship with Jesus Christ. It would consist in living a religious rule. That did not seem to be a great sacrifice, but rather the way to be myself, apart from a world that ran after money and other false values. This freedom to be myself did not initially translate into becoming a gift for others, as St. Paul describes it in Galatians 5:13--"you were called for freedom, brothers. Review for Religious But do not use this freedom as an opportunity for the flesh; rather, serve one another through love." Instead, I concentrated on having a direct relationship with Jesus. It was only much later that I realized that God created me to live as a member of the human family, and that this meant sharing my heart with others. Gradually this was extended to seeing myself as a brother to any other human being I might meet. Seeking Perfection I began to see that progress in union with God involved seeking what was called "the perfection of charity." Vatican Council II would state that the pur-pose of religious life is to make the perfection ; of charity a "very clear symbol" (Flannery) or ~ a "blazing emblem" (Abbott) of the kingdom of God (PC §I). Our love for Jesus is to flow out in love of neighbor, which, as Pope Paul VI . . ~, wrote, is to be extended to the whole human race (Ecclesiam suam, §58). As the ancient hymn Ubi Caritas had stated, charity (caritas) united with heartfelt love (amor) makes God present in the world. Vatican II also stated that religious profession of the evangelical councils is to free us from obstacles that might draw us away not only from the fervor of char-ity, but also from "the perfection of divine worship" (LG §4). This perfection of divine worship would be our response to the Orate Fratres at Mass in praying I began to see that progress in union with GOd involved ~seeking what was called ~ '~the perfection of charity. " [283 69.3 2010 Nogosek ¯ Religious Life as an Acceptable Sacrifice 284 that our sacrifice "be acceptable to God, the Father Almighty." But this perfection of divine worship also requires the perfection of charity, as St. Paul suggests by saying that the loving gift the Philippians sent him is the "fragrant aroma'.' of "an acceptable sacrifice, pleas-ing to God" (Ph 4:18). Vatican II calls the Eucharist "a sacrament of love" and "a bond of charity" (SC §47), not unlike St. Thomas saying that Holy Communion incites into action our dispositions to be charitable (ST III.79.1 ad 2)~ He cites 2 Corinthians 5:14--"the love of Christ impels us." This could be why the new liturgy has shortened the time after Holy Communion. We are not to bury our face in our hands in private adoration of Jesus in our heart, but rather to ready ourselves for reaching out to others. It calls me "to put off the old man" (Col 3:9) of self-centeredness, and put into action the command-ment of loving others as Jesus has loved me. Jesus wants to be loved in his people, as a religious sister once heard in her heart when, upon kissing the crucifix before retir-ing, she heard the words "Kiss my people." Personal Fulfillment Even though I had often heard women religious speak of their quest for "fulfillment," it took years for me to revise my original desire for success in life into a language of personal fulfillment. I had not expected to be "fulfilled" as a person by the sacrifice represented in religious profession of poverty, chastity, and obedience, any more than I had seen the austerity of the Trappist life as a way to personal fulfillment in this world. Making life seem like a joke could hardly be called "ful-fillment." My thinking was changed, however, in part by a parable in C.S. Lewis's Mere Christianity (Bk 4, 9). Review fir Religious According to an adaptation of the story, you invite a friend to live with you in your house. After some time, you notice blueprints have been spread out on the din-ing- room table. Inspecting them, you realize your guest has elaborate plans to transform your little house into a great palace--"throwing out a new wing here, put-ring on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards." As C.S. Lewis comments, it is as though your guest wants to make it a home worthy of himself. To think of Jesus as actually living with me in my heart was not something I had learned in catechism. We had been told that the Holy Spirit was the divine guest in our heart, bug the real presence of Jesus was only in the host in the tabernacle, except when Jesus cam to us in Holy Communion and stayed for seven minutes.~ But during novitiate I had read some books of Raoul Plus SJ, especially one entitled In Christ Jesus, showing from the writings of St. Paul that by baptismal grace we have, abiding in our heart,, the real presence of Jesus. It is the same Jesus as resides in the tabernacle--body and blood, soul and divinity. In Holy Communion he does not come for a visit; he comes to stay. Others around me disagreed, but I was sure Plus was right about this teaching of St. Paul. Later I would also find it in St. Teresa of Avila's Interior Castle. If the real presence of Jesus dwells in us, then we also meet him in others, and what others share in truth and love could well be a gift to us directly from Jesus in their heart. This makes our mutual sharing of life crucial to our relationship with Jesus. It took me beyond the Little Flower's Way of Spiritual Childhood, which long before I had been drawn to by the Trappist monks. There is something more than putting as much love as possible into each action; I am also called to make a 69.3 2010 Nogosek * Religious Life as an Acceptable Sacrifice gift of myself to others so as to communicate the love of Jesus, who dwells within my heart. This amounts to being a grace to others. It is the language of spiritual gifts or charisms. Charisms During formation I. was repeatedly urged to rec-ognize my special talents and gifts, since religious life involves a commitment to strive for personal and spiri-tual growth. I was told that "grace builds on i~ature." So what is my nature as an individual? What talents and personality had I brought with me into religious life? These efforts at self-scrutiny often left me feel-ing quite discouraged. I lacked so much of what others around me had in talents and personality. Only much later would I see this differently, in part because of the parable in Mere Christianity--that inviting Jesus into my heart could result in my being radically changed as a person. In calling me to discipleship, Jesus may well be planning to have me express myself in wonderful ways, just as he had promised his disciples that they would do greater works than he had done (Jn 14:12). We know that by receiving his Body we become his Body, so that, like him (LG §5), our words, actions, and personal presence can reveal the kingdom of God on earth. This could represent the "abundant fruit from the grace of baptism" which Vatican II says we will be enabled to have by religious profession (LG §44). If I am to be a grace to others by charisms, I have to come out ofmy shell. This is like a cartoon I once saw. In the first frame, there is a big egg bouncing up and down. In the next frame a duckling has poked out his head through the shell, and looks around in fright. In the final frame he has dived headfirst back into the egg. It is much Review for Religious the same with charisms. We have to drop our defenses and risk being a person in new ways before others. Walking on the Water Underlying Vatican II's Pastoral Constitution of the Church in the Modern World is the story of walking on water in Matthew 14. Jesus is walking on the waters of today's world, and -- - invites us, like St. Peter, to get out of our boat to ioin him. This is to fol-low our discerning "the signs of the times" (GS §.4), which are the ques-tions and yearnings of people today.2 - It means trying something new. In leaving our comfort zone, we will need to keep our eyes on Jesus. St. Peter started sinking only when he looked around and felt the wind blowing hard against him. This suggests that charisms do not form part of our personal identity. Although we have been given the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit at confirmation, these are not graces to give grace to others, but rather a disposi-tion to be sensitive to the breath of the Spirit, which, as Jesus said, may come and go like the summer breeze (Jn 3:8). Our personal defects remain; it is as "earthen vessels" (2 Co 4:7) that we carry Christ's grace to others. Maybe, in our self-gift to others, the power of Jesus will be conveyed, even through our defects and vulnerability. St~ Paul says in 2 Corinthians 12:10--"when I am weak, then I am strong." Jesus is walking on the ¯ wafers bf today's world, and invites us, like St. Peter, . "to~et out Of our.boat to join him. 69.3 2010 Nogosek ¯ Religious Life as an Acceptable Sacrifice The opportunity for that came up early in my reli-gious life. Just as I completed studies in biblical theol-ogy, I received a letter assigning me to teach dogmatic theology. Upon arriving in the classroom a few months later, I steadied my nerves by recalling G.K. Chesterton: "If something is worth doing, it is worth doing badly." But the course turned out quite well. The students enjoyed my attempts to use the Bible to understand dogma in place of the traditional Neo-Scholasticism they had been hearing. Again, many years later, I was invited to join a team in southern California doing evangelization among Mexican immigrants. I told God that if he wanted me to do this, he would have to teach me Spanish. Initially some of the people rejected me because they sensed I did not understand what they were saying. That was quite true, but, when with them, I would repeat a word or phrase they had said just to keep them talking. Since I loved the people, I was quite happy to be able to communicate even a little bit and to keep on listening. After they came to see I really liked being with them, they began showing that they liked being with "Padre Roberto." At the same time I was making a big hit with their children, maybe because I saw each child as just as much a person as I was. With their kids so fond of me, as time went on their parents became more satisfied with me as I was. 2881 Inner Resistance to Grace Like the companions of St. Peter on the lake that stormy night, we are likely to have a lot of reluctance "to get out of the boat" to join Jesus walking on the water. This is typical of the resistance described by St. Paul's discussion of Christian freedom in Galatians 5. He calls it "the desire of the flesh." When I first arrived at Review for Religious Coachella, California, as the new pastor of an Hispanic parish, I was determined to follow the example of St. John Vianney, who had started out as cur4 of Ars by knocking on doors to visit the people in their homes.3 To make this happen, I put it on my schedule for cer-tain evenings each week. As I got into my car at 7 p.m., usually I would not feel like going, but I went anyway, and once I was interacting with the people I enjoyed it--and they did too. In Sunday homilies I would tell the people that, if they wanted to experience the Holy Spirit (and I knew they did), they should do something for someone. I said the presence of the Holy Spirit is felt mainly in our actions. Others say the same: that when they visit the sick, or even someone in jail, they "get more out of it" than they give. We may feel like new persons in our spontaneity of interact-ing with others out of our love for Jesus. People even relate that they have said things that surprised them, things they had never thought of before. This recalls the promise of Jesus about the gift of the Holy Spirit-- that we should not prepare what to say beforehand, for in our witness itself the Spirit would give us the words to say (Mt 10:20). 'The presence of the Holy: Spirit is felt mainly .fin our actionS. Charisms and Renewal In its call to renewal, Vatican II invites us to aspire to have charisms typical of the early church. Both Pope John xxIII and Pope Paul VI called for a "New Pentecost," to restore to the church today the youth- 69.:~ 2010 Nogosek * Religious Life as an Acceptable Sacrifice fulness and enthusiasm it had when it first came from the hands of Jesus. When we look at early Christianity in comparison with the church today, we wonder what caused the rapid growth in the number of believers. Rodney Stark in The Rise of Christianity estimates that during the first three centuries the number of Christians increased by forty percent every ten years, beginning in A.D. 40 with about 1,000, and' attaining more than 33,000,000 believers by the year 350 (p. 7). As a soci- ,ologist of religion, he suggests that .the best explana-tion for this phenomenal growth was the way Christians responded to the epidemics in. the empire, which would ravage the entire population at least once every century, with mortality rates of up to thir.ty percent (pp. 73ff). Even the emperor Marcus Aurelius was among the vic-tims in the year 180. At such times the pagans would flee in panic from their homes and cities, abandoning without food and water their loved ones who had fallen ill, and even refusing to bury the dead. The Christians, however, by reason of their love of Christ, would care for their sick and with devotion bury their dead. This care was extended not only to fellow Christians but also to the many pagans married to Christians, and to some of their pagan friends as well. Stark concludes: "This meant that in the aftermath of each epidemic, Christians made up a larger percentage of the population, even without new converts. Moreover, their noticeable better survival rate would have seemed a "miracle" to Christians and pagans alike, and this ought to have influenced conversions." Typically at the beginning of religious communities there was a phenomenal growth in the number of new members, who were attracted to the founder's charism in response to a critical need, even at great sacrifice. In Review for Religious founding my own Holy Cross community, Blessed Basil Moreau was responding not only to the secularization of France after the French Revolution, but also to pleas for help from European missionaries serving in Africa, North America, and Asia. After forming a community of men and women committed to the hearts of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, he put many of them at risk by sending them abroad with few material resources, saying that as Holy Cross religious "the Cross is our only hope." He meant that, when as a community we suffer great trials while engaged in service of others, it is a sign from divine providence that our efforts will produce fruit beyond human possibilities. With such words derived from St. Paul, Moreau was transforming the French school of spirituality, with its devotion to the mystery of the incar-nation, into a trust in the paschal mystery. This fostered a bold reliance on divine providence in undertaking dif-ficult apostolates in new environments, to which we were being invited as a new apostolic religious community committed to serving the church. A New Image of the Church According to Vatican II, the church today needs a critical reform of its image, that it be much more a sign of the good news of the kingdom of God. By his 1964 encyclical, Ecclesiam suam, Pope Paul vI challenged the council fathers on the eve of the third session "to com-pare the ideal image of the church, just as Christ sees it, wills it, and loves it. with the actual image the church projects today" (§ 11). This entails, he says, "correction of the defects that conscience denounces and rejects, as if, standing before a mirror, we were to examine interiorly the image of Christ that he has left us." These "necessary reforms," he says, will be "delicate and difficult" (§12). 69.3 2010 Nogosek ¯ Religious Life as an Acceptable Sacrifice 292 One delicate task of the council was that of altering the image of the church that Pope Pius XIl had presented in 1943 in his renowned encyclical Mystici Corporis. Pius identified the church as the Body. of Christ by being "a perfect society" in its juridical structure. Some of the council fathers would describe this image of the church as the "barque of Peter," with the clergy and religious as the crew and the laity their precious cargo to be transported safely across the treacherous waters of the world to the safe harbor of heaven. The council saw, however, that this is not the way the church should be. Gaudium et spes would call us out of the boat, and especially the laity, who were to see themselves as the primary evangelizers of modern society (LG §31). They were called to this and equipped for it in their baptism and confirmation (LG §33). The obligation came from Christ's commandment to love our neighbor, and the equipment would be the spiritual gifts called charisms. Their ordained pastors were to help them discern their charisms, form them as lay apostles, and give them "room for action" (LG §37). As a preferred image of the church, the council chose the biblical term "people of God." It was remi-niscent not only of the Hebrew people freed from the slavery of Egypt and guided by God through the desert, but also of the story of the multiplication of the loaves and fish in Mark 6, where Jesus has the multitude sit down on the grass in groups of hundreds and fifties. Rather than mainly showing itself as a well-defended and highly organized juridical body, the church is to make itself seen in the world as a movement of faith-filled people. The world today needs to experience the presence of God, and that can best happen where mem-bers of the church form small Christian communities Re'view for Religious through "familial love" of one another and collaboration for the faith of the gospel (GS §22). This encourages an "ecclesiology from below" char-acteristic of the way St. Paul in Ephesians 4 describes members of the church being formed into the Body of Christ. By sharing our truth in the spirit of love, we are to "grow in every way into him who is the head, Christ." The sharing is by dialogue, which had been promoted by Pope Paul vI in Ecdesiam suam and would be declared by Vatican II to be the special charac-teristic of the mis-sion of the church today (GS §82): "In virtue of its mis-sion to enlighten the whole world with the message of the gospel and to "r ~ gather together into one spirit all women and men of every nation, race, and culture, the church shows itself as a sign of that amity which renders possible sincere dialogue and strengthens it." By this we are challenged as religious to evaluate how we form ongoing community life, and what sign value it provides for others. Are we living "that amity which renders sincere dialogue and strengthens it"? At Coachella we did receive something of a posi-tive answer regarding the sign value of our community life. Three years after we arrived, the diocese conducted a thorough evaluation of the parish put into our care. One group of parishioners reported that before we came to the parish they were highly critical of one, another as parishioners. But, having noticed that the Holy Cross , 'We are challenged as religious to evaluate how we form ongoing .,community life, and what sign value it prov!des for others. 69.3 2010 Nogosek ¯ Religious Life as an Acceptable Sacrifice 294 priests and brothers never voiced a word of criticism towards one another, they decided they also should act that way toward one another. This had not happened sim-ply from our faithfulness to prayer and our apostolic zeal as a religious community. We had made the sacrifice of having weekly house chapters, where we shared with one another what was on our minds and in our hearts. Atoleast in this respect, we hhd succeeded in being "a sign which can and ought to attract all the members of the church to an effective and prompt fulfillment of the duties of their religious vocation" (LG §44). Certainly the religious vocation of all the parishioners was to live out the New Commandment byloving one another aiad making it vis-ible. We also knew that the parishioners were .to see us as a sign that "heavenly blessings'? were already present in this wtrld, foretelling "the resurrected state and the glory of the heavenly kingdom" (LG §4). For that to take place, we would have to show the people that we loved them just as they were, and in very concrete ways. The Rich Man and Lazarus According to the council, religious are "to give an increasingly clearer revelation of Christ," which includes his choosing to live as a poor man, as also was chosen by his virgin mother (LG §46). Here Vatican II was not saying anything new. What was new, and espe-cially challenging, was that as members of the church we are to evaluate the image we give to the world in light of the parable of the rich man and Lazarus (Lk 16): "Everyone must consider his neighbor without excep-tion as another self, taking into account first of all his life and the means necessary to living it with dignity, so as not to imitate the rich man who had no concern for the poor man Lazarus" (GS §27). Review for Religious Here again we are challenged to evaluate our sign value as a religious community. According to Gaudium et spes (§88), if we are living in a nation where "a majority of citizens who are counted as Christians have an abundance of this world's goods," we are in grave danger of causing scandal to the many nations where the majority are not Christian, and where the citizens "are deprived of the necessities of life and are tormented with hunger, disease, and every kind of misery." The council says that this is "as if Christ himself were appealing to the charity of his followers through the mouths of these poor people." How will Jesus see our life as a religious congrega-tion when he comes on the Last Day? How certain are we to be among those at his right hand when he comes in glory to judge the members of all nations by the cri-terion of how they served the needy? An Acceptable Sacrifice .Since Vatican II saw the mission of Jesus being con-tinued by the church, Pope John Paul II liked to repeat that the way of the church is to be the way of Jesus Christ. Jesus said we must lose our life for his sake in order to find it (Mt 10:39). He told those who wanted to follow him: "Foxes have dens and birds of the sky have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to rest his head" (Lk 9:58). St. Paul wrote that by our bearing affliction "the love of God will be poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us" (Rm 5:5). Like St. Paul, we do not want Jesus to have died in vain, nor that his presence touch only those who believe in the Eucharist. As friends of Jesus, we want to help him make the world better, that the pleasing aroma cre-ated by his presence in us may indeed be, as St. Paul says, not as "an odor that leads to death" where people 69.3 2010 Nogosek ¯ Religious Life as an Acceptable Sacrifice reject gospel values--but rather "an odor of life that leads to life" (2,Co 2:16), where people are attracted to a gift of freedom to be themselves through sharing the wisdom, help, and love of the Holy Spirit. But today, as consecrated women and men "eval-uating the contemporary world wisely in the light of faith" (PC §2), we must ask whether the way we live our religious profession is truly becoming "an accept-able sacrifice." Jesus said that before he returned "the love of many would grow cold" (Mr 24:12), and he asked whether he would find faith upon the earth when he came again (Lk 18:8). Notes ~ It takes about seven minutes for the host to dissolve in the stomach and the consecrated host to be no longer present. 2 Although some church leaders interpret these signs as today's troubles and thus may see the world as especially hostile to the gospel, I would argue that according to Vatican II our times are today's evangeli-cal opportunity prepared by God's Spirit breathing over the world. 3 Francis Trochu, The Curi of Ars (Rockford, Illinois: TAN Books and Publishers, 1977), pp. 116f. 296[ Gamble If l but touch his clothes. Mark 5:28 Did the soldier who won and wore the seamless robe allow it to touch him? Irene Zimmerman OSF Review for Religiou~ 'JEFFREY MICKLER Coping with the Genuinely Difficult Religious Itw"googled" the term "difficult people" and instantly o hundred million sites were found. Business managers, owners, and employees are all seeking answers on how to cope with people who are genuinely difficult to get along with. The hilarious 1980 movie Nine to Five told of the revenge three female employ-ees took against their male chauvinist boss. In real life, however, revenge is never a solution, and dealing with difficult people is never really funny. Hence, there are books like Sandra A. Crowe's Since Strangling Isn't an Option. Difficult people drain others' enthusiasm and suck the life out of organizations, as the title Working with You Is Killing Me by Katherine Crowley and Kathi Elster suggests.' Dealing with difficult people in the workplace is one thing. Living with them in a religious commu- Jeffrey Mickler SSP has worked in formation and various other min-istries and was provincial of the Paulists' United States Province. His address is Box 595; 9531 Akron Canfield Road (Rt 224); Canfield, Ohio 44406. 69.3 2010 Mickler ¯ Coping with the Genuinely Difficult Religious 298 nity raises the bar. Although all of us can be difficult at times, some religious are chronically difficult and even hostile. Augustine Poulain SJ in his 19th-century spiritual classic The lnterior Graces describes one type of difficult religious: Another trial., is living with an irritable person who finds fault with everything, never speaks a pleasant word . These difficult characters often have the reputation of being very amiable abroad because they are full of attention for those whom they need, or those who would not allow themselves to be bullied. These nervous natures may be likened to torpe-does on account of the charges that they let fly at those who .approach them. It is impossible to arrange any matter with them clearly and quietly. Above all, let no one try to excuse himself when they accuse him of anything or [try to] prove to them that they are mistaken . The volcano will then be in full eruption. Such minds will never be in the wrong; they alone are endowed with sound judgment. This behavior shows., a grave lack of charity. In community, characters of this. nature make life very difficult for others, and are sometimes the cause of abandonment of vocations.2 Father Stephen Rossetti, of St. Luke Institute in Silver Spring, Maryland, in his recorded conference Spirituality of Christian Leadership, describes such people as suffering "chronically impaired social functioning." These individuals have "inflexible, maladaptive ways of dealing with other people." Wherever they are sta-tioned, they divide and disrupt communities. Their nat-ural charm ensures that they will have some supporters, but their anger at the world for not revolving around their needs makes them almost impossible to live with. When confronted by authority with a long list of com-plaints, these people blame others and are unable to Review for Religious grasp that they themselves have caused any problems. Father Rossetti points out that they have narcissistic personalities. When confronted, they erupt into a rage that sends shock waves through a community.3 Some of them end up living in their own apartments because provincials can find no communities willing to tolerate daeir divisive behavior. Rossetti says the chances of changing them for the better are extremely slim. Traditional therapies have proven fruitless. He advises giving such persons honest feedback, together with strict and clear guidelines for their behavior. Leaders must be compas-sionate towards them, but firm. ¯ theses.temperaments. The leadership has a responsibility to do all in its power to prevent them from terrorizing the community and running roughshod over people.4 Rossetti's position that modern therapy can do lit-tle to change such characters corresponds to Poulain's 19th-century assessment: "I have seen very religious persons try to cure themselves of this irritability. They have been unable to succeed . I think a miracle is required to overcome these temperaments.''5 Se~in Sammon of the Marist Brothers has done extensive research on dealing with difficult people. Drawing upon the works of Robert M. Bramson, Charles J. Keating, and Robert L. Veninga and James P. Spradley, he has developed a pragmatic and effective ~ have seen very religious persons try t6 cure themselvesof this irritabiiity. I think a miracle 'is rdqyire~:to overcome 69.3 2010 Mickler * Coping with the Genuinely Difficult Religious 300 approach that is presented on tapes from St Pauls/Alba House, Coping with the Genuinely Difficult Person. Like Poulain and Rossetti, Sammon acknowledges that efforts to change truly difficult people are basically fruitless. He suggests, however, ways we ourselves can change in order to better cope with them.6 He lists seven types of difficult people.7 He calls all of the first three types hostile-aggressive: they are "Sherman tanks," "snipers," and "exploders." The Sherman tanks are convinced of their ideas and dominate meetings by discounting out of hand the suggestions of others. They present their own ideas as the only rational, workable thing for the community or committee to adopt. They refer to other approaches as "stupid," a "waste of time," or "ridicu-lous." Sammon suggests meeting the Sherman tanks with calm strength. When the Sherman tanks begin to roll over a meet-ing, the chair should let them go on for a while but then abruptly intervene: "Stop right there; we have heard your objections; now we need valuable input from others." Sherman tanks will most likely add a few new objections until the chair or the presenter interrupts: "We will be covering those objections and discussing them as the meeting goes on!" Participants, present-ers, and leaders need to stand up for themselves against the Sherman tanks, clearly explaining their positions, not backing down, but avoiding a fight. Hostile-aggres-sive individuals almost always "win" in a fight, but the Sherman tanks usually respect such strength. They often do have valid insights that the community can benefit from; it is their ways of behaving that make it hard for the community to consider their input fairly. "Snipers" will make remarks that are just barely audible to the person being targeted. The remarks are Review for Religious biting and sarcastic, and the victim is supposed to laugh them off. These are different fr

Issue 67.4 of the Review for Religious, 2008. ; Personal Witness Heart -Knowledge, .Spiritual Reflection QUARTERLY 67.4 2008 Review for Religious fosters dialogue with God, dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue with one another about the holiness we try to live according to charisms of Catholic religious life. As Pope Paul Vl said, our way of being church is today the way of dialogue. 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: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Maih 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 ¯ Pontifical College Josephinum 7625 North High Street ¯ Columbus, Ohio 43235 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 5.5806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2008 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 distribution, 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. ~ gournal of Catholic ~pir~ual~ for 0 religious Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Scripture Scop~ Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming sJ Philip C. Fischer sJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Paul Coutinho SJ Martin Erspamer OSB Margaret Guider OSF Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD QUARTERLY 67.4 2008 contents 340 prisms Prisms 342 personal witness Thomas Merton's Legacy: A Personal Reflection Richard Hauser SJ gives personal witness to Thomas Merton's influence in five areas of spirituality: models of spirituality, personal prayer, the sacred and the secular, nonviolence, and interreligious understanding. Personal Reflection / Group Discussion 358 Our Ethnicity.en Route to God Ruth Bolarte IHM, recalling her early religious formation as a Peruvian woman in the United States, points out the need for everyone's ethnic cultural roots to be recognized and made good use of in spiritual direction and in faith and religious-life education. 366 heart knowledge Constitutions and Heart Knowledge Beatrice Eichten OSF proposes that women and men religious may ~ell review their ¢onstitntions and question how they live out in practice their co ,mmunity life and governance today. Personal Reflection / Group Discussion Revie~ for Religious 380 Can New Life Arise from the Rule Book? 386 Nestor Gregoire OMI suggests ways that the Rule Book of a religious congregation can become user friendly and be a part of the community's prayer life. Monasticism's Rooted Adaptations Joel Rippinger OSB paints a picture of the contemporary demands on the monastic community and the adaptation required to remain true to monastic life. 392 4O4 413 Revisiting Hope William P. Clark OMI ruminates on all the richness that the virtue of hope gives to our daily living and to our witness-ing to our Christian faith. Becoming All Fire: Thoughts on Religious Identity Hedwig Lewis SJ offers reflections on the Jesuit as "a man on fire" in the light of Decree 2 of General Congregation 35. Though applied here to the Society of Jesus, the ideas have relevance for all women and men religious and for others who desire greater commitment to the Lord. A Source for Prayer Undreamt Of A. Paul Dominic SJ proposes ways that we might find content for our prayer in the dreams that God may use in speaking to us. 425 Scripture Scope: The New Perspective on St. Paul 430 Canonical Counsel: The Lacuna Canon: Common and Constant Opinion 435 Book Reviews 443 2008 Index 339 67.4 2008 prisms 3401 Nvember is the month in the Catholic liturgical tradition devoted to a commemoration of the faithful departed. We remember, those who have died and now have a different role to exercise in the communion of the saints. We remind ourselves that death is not an end, but rather a door passed through to life forever. Some years ago the Jesuit theologian Karl Rahner wrote a long essay in the Quaestiones Disputatae series entitled On the Theology of Death. One of the challenges that Rahner pre-sented was for us to view death as a beginning. Obviously in our Christian faith in the resur-rection of the body we acknowledge that in dying we rise to new life. Although physical death can be seen as an end, that same death can be seen as a beginning. Rahner, however, was drawing our atten-tion to how we prepare for our Christian death by how we live. If we truly 7want to enter into living our Christian faith, we should spend our lives learning how to die. All the little dying opportunities in our life allow for this growth. Something so simple as the physical act of fall-ing asleep at night and waking to a new day can be an exercise in dying. We can't make ourselves sleep, but we can give ourselves over Review for Religious to its possibility. And that attitude/action of "giving our-selves over" is what makes death a beginning. In our everyday life, there can be a lot of bringing things to a completion or to an end (a dying), and then we find ourselves giving ourselves over to a new project. Every time we face an ending or a dying, we are learning how to die by giving ourselves over to something new. As Christians, then, we truly can be said to be peo-ple who spend their lives learning how to die. In fol-lowing Jesus, we are his disciples even up to his death on a cross. Even suffering an unjust and cruel death by crucifixion, Jesus saw and freely accepted his death as a giving over of himself to God and to us--his own gift of self in love. This is the gift God makes present to us in every Eucharist--the eternal stance of Jesus giving himself over to the Father and to us, and inviting us to be with him in this gift. So as we enter into every Eucharist, we again are exercising our learning how to die--a giving of ourselves over to new life. November is also the end of the church's liturgical year. We begin anew our liturgical year with the sea-son of Advent. Just as in the secular ending of a year and then the beginning of a new year, we find ourselves challenged to acknowledge that this year we are one year closer to dying, no matter our age. It seems to be a good time to ask ourselves; as Rahner would remind us, how we accept death as a beginning and how each day we are learning how to die. David L. Fleming SJ The Review for Religious advisory board members and editorial staff pray for a blessed Advent and Christmas sea-son for all of you, our readers. 341 67.4 2008 prayer RICHARD J. HAUSER Thomas Merton's Legacy: A Personal Reflection 342 The Newsweek cover of 19 November 2007 proclaimed 1968 as "The Year That Made Us Who We Are." Prominent among the events recalled were the deaths of Martin Luther King Jr. on 4 April and Robert Kennedy on 6 June. For me the year recalled another death, Thomas Merton's, on 10 December, and Newsweek's title led me to reflect on how Merton had made me and many of my genera-tion who we are as Christians. This surprised me. I had never explicitly assessed Merton's contribution either to 20th-century spiritual-ity or to my own. Then I received and accepted an invitation from St. Mary's College, South Bend, to speak about Merton's legacy to contemporary spiritu-ality. I began delving back into spiritual devel-opments after the Second Vatican Council. Richard J. Hauser SJ writes from Creighton University; 2500 California Plaza; Omaha, Nebraska 68178. Review for Religious To be safe I narrowed my topic to Merton's influence on me, but I soon felt that Merton had influenced my entire generation, affecting major writers such as Henri Nouwen and Thomas Keating. From 1969 to 1972 I studied in the Department of Religion and Religious Education at Catholic University in Washington, D.C. There I became fascinated by Abraham Maslow's self-actualizationpsychology, espe-cially his approach to peak "religious" experience. Deciding for my dissertation to compare Maslow, an agnostic, with a Christian spiritual writer, I did not take the suggestion to use Ignatius Loyola. I had read Seven Storey Mountain in high school; as a young Jesuit I had not become further acquainted; but I would become familiar with him. I chose Merton. Looking back now, I am aware that Merton signifi-cantly altered my approach to spirituality in at least five areas: models of spirituality, personal prayer, the sacred and the secular, nonviolence, and interreligious under-standing. Models of Spirituality Merton transformed my understanding of not only spirituality but also human nature. He moved me from a behavior-centered approach to a contemplative, heart-centered approach. And for the first time I began under-standing the role of grace. In my Jesuit formation from 1955 to 1968, we strove to do God's will as indicated in the daily order. Our day included Mass, meditation, examinations of conscience, the rosary, and other prayers. It included times for work, study, play, eating, and sleeping. Our, day was spent doing things for God. Holiness, as I understood it throughout my Jesuit formation, was in fidelity in doing God's will 343 67.4 2008 Hauser * Thomas Merton's Legacy: .4 Personal Reflection by observing the daily order and keeping the rules: "Keep the rules and the rules will keep you." I frequently failed in observance. I was a perfectionist and experienced guilt. I had migraine headaches during my early years. During my studies at Catholic University, I began rethinking my model of spirituality and of human nature. Though I had never formally articulated it, my understanding of human nature throughout my forma-tion was Freudian: Human nature cannot be trusted because it is dominated by the strong self-centered instinctual impulses of the Id, and so spirituality strives to repress and control this unruly nature. Abraham Maslow's personality theory challenged this model. Maslow describes human nature in a posi-tive series of needs leading to full self-actualization. This actualization occurs as we recognize and respond to our nature's promptings. For my dissertation I sought a theological perspec-tive on human nature that would complement Maslow's psychological one. Merton's theory of the True Self pro-vided that perspective. He stresses that the True Self is the self in an existential union with God. This union is capable of transforming the self if we live in tune with it: "The secret of my identity is hidden in Him. He alone can make me who I am, or rather who I will be when at last I fully begin to be. But, unless I desire this identity and work to find it with him and in him, the work will never be done." Also: "There is only one problem on which all my existence, my peace, and my happiness depend: to discover myself in discovering God. If I find him I will find myself, and if I find my true self I will find him.''1 For the first time in my life I was exposed to a Christian approach to the self that stressed not sinful- Review for Religious ness but grace. For me, Merton was describing grace as it worked transforming the various levels of Maslow's series of needs. Merton's "self-realization in Christ" was the perfect complement to Maslow's agnostic "self-actu-alization.'~ But Merton's approach to the self was not naive. He realized that discovering our True Self is difficult because we are shadowed by a False Self. This False Self is a product of our secular, materialistic culture; it leads to an understand- ¯ ing of the self that does not include God: "Every one of us is shadowed by an illusory person: a false self. My false and pri-vate self is the one who wants to exist outside the reach of God's will and God's love--outside of reality and outside of life. And such a self can-not help but be an illusion .A.ll sin starts from the assumption that my false self, the self that exists only in my own egocentric desires, is the fundamental reality of life to which everything else in the universe is ordered" (Seeds, 34-35). Merton's approach to spirituality focuses not on behavior but on the habitual consciousness underlying actions. Spirituality seeks to recognize and respond to God's presence at the center of our self, our True Self. This includes recognizing and rejecting the patterns of our False Self that separate us from God. It is not unlike Paul's contrast between following Christ by faith-ful observance of the external law and following Christ Merton's approach to spirituality focuses not on behavior but on the habitual consciousness underlying actions. 67.4 2008 Hauser * Thonms Merton'~ Legacy: .4 Per~onM Reflection 346 by responding to the law of the Holy Spirit written upon our hearts. This insight illumined my spirituality. When I began my university teaching, I was asked to teach a graduate course called Approaches to Mysticism. Merton's contemplative spirituality became my guide. Personal Prayer Merton transformed my personal prayer, helping me experience prayer as an authentic and fulfilling expres-sion of myself before God and not only as a prescribed religious obligation. He helped me recognize the Spirit's role and become aware of actual contemplation in my life and prayer. I believe that contemplation is the key to Merton's spirituality. ' Daily personal prayer was a regular part of our Jesuit formation. We were given Jesuit-authored meditation books that presented scriptural passages for each day of the year. We were taught the Ignatian methods of meditation and contemplation presented in his Spiritual Exercises. We were instructed to reflect on those passages using memory, understanding, will, and imagination. We prayed for fifty minutes each morning beginning at 5:30. I found these prayer hours difficult and did not look forward to them. They seemed irrelevant; I often experienced distraction, boredom, and sleep. I was faith-ful to this regimen for the first nine years of my Jeslait formation. As part of my formation I taught at a Jesuit mis-sion in South Dakota. Life at the mission was difficult, both in community life and in ministry. The students showed little enthusiasm for the courses I taught or the activities I ran. Discouraged, I wondered if I had fol-lowed the right vocation. I began taking walks alone late at night down the country road. I poured out my Review for Religious discouragement to the Lord. The walks stabilized me; in the stillness I often found peace. I looked forward to these walks and would not miss them if I could help it. I determined to continue serving the Lord. But I did not consider these walks personal prayer-- they were not the Ignatian prayer I was trained in. Needing sleep, I soon was sleeping through the morning prayer hour and getting up in time for the 6:30 Mass. I felt guilty, but one day I realized I was not skipping prayer--I was doing it at night. From that moment my personal prayer changed. I felt that prayer does not have to be a strenuous concentration of mem-ory, understanding, will, and imagination. Simply being with the Lord anywhere--in chapel or outside--was prayer. Theologians might not agree with me, and this was not the Ignatian prayer I was taught--so I kept my ideas to myself. In graduate school Merton gave me a theological foundation for my prayer. He helped me realize I was holding on to a Pelagian understanding of prayer. He showed me that prayer is really more the work of the Holy Spirit than my work: "It can therefore be said that the aim of mental prayer is to awaken the Holy Spirit within us, and to bring our hearts into harmony with his voice, so that we allow the Holy Spirit to speak and pray within us, and lend him our voice and our affec-tions that we may become, as far as possible, conscious of his prayer in our hearts.''2 Merton showed me that prayer can actually be easy and that we can pray from wherever we are in our lives. It does not have to be a strenuous effort to forget our daily lives and to concentrate on Scripture using mem-ory, understanding, and will. "In prayer we discover what we already have. You start where you are and you 347 67.4 2008 Hauser ¯ Thomas Merton's Legacy: .4 Personal R~ection Merton gave me the theology and language to explain and justify what had become my regular practice of personal prayer. 348 deepen what you already have, and you realize that you are already there. We already have everything; but we don't know it and we don't experience it. Everything has been given to us in Christ. All we need is to experience what we already possess.''3 Finally, and unbelievably, I learned that my prayer sometimes fulfilled Merton's description of contem-plation- being touched by God in a way transcending words. What I had considered merely natural human expe-riences-- Maslow's peak experiences-- were actually encoun-ters with the divine: "Contemplation is a sudden gift of aware-ness, an awakening to the Real within all that is real. A vivid - ¯ - awareness of infinite Being at the roots of our own limited being. An awareness of our contingent reality as received, as a present from God, as a free gift of love. This is the existential contact of which we speak when we use the metaphor of being 'touched by God'" (Seeds, 3). I realized these experiences happened most frequendy for me--and for Merton--in nature, and they happened most frequently outside of formal prayer times. He showed me that contemplation is not merely the preserve of cloistered monks and nuns, but that we are all called to it by our baptism. In short, Merton gave me the theology and language to explain and justify what had become my regular prac-tice of personal prayer. This had several enduring effects Review for Religious on my rhythm of personal prayer. I moved toward more and more silence in prayer, allowing the Holy Spirit to pray within me. I began daily prayer with my personal concerns rather than Scripture. I arranged my place of prayer to ensure I could always view God's creation. I altered my annual eight-day retreats: I stopped going to retreat houses and went to places of great natural beauty near a mountain or an ocean--and I began looking for-ward to these retreats. The Sacred and the Secular Merton's ideas had many ramifications in my life. He helped me transcend an artificial distinction I had made between the sacred and the secular. He helped me recognize that daily life is sacred. Before the Second Vatican Council and throughout my formation, I had lived with a basic misunderstand-ing about spirituality and holiness. I believed that spiri-tuality is primarily faithful performance of devotional practices aimed directly at worshiping God, such as Mass and visits to chapel, and that holiness is measured by fidelity to these practices. I did acknowledge other things as important, such as doing God's will and charity toward others, especially toward the most needy. These things, however, seemed not as central to holiness as the explicitly religious activities. When the council came, I was deeply influenced by the document "The Church in the Modern World" (Gaudium et spes). The council clearly taught that being a good Catholic is more than simply performing reli-gious obligations faithfully. A good Catholic must also be actively involved in serving the kingdom of God by living in love in ordinary daily life, and especially by working for justice in the world and working for the poor. 349 67.4 2008 Hauser ¯Tbomas Merton's Legaiy: A Personal Reflection This call occasioned a crisis in my life. I began to feel there had been too much emphasis on religious activities and not enough on service to others. I questioned my commitment to daily Mass and meditation. For a while I dropped daily personal prayer. I had set up a dichotomy between sacred activities and secular activities. Merton helped me overcome this dichotomy. His understand-ing of the True Self was key. The True Self exists in an existential union not only with God but also with the entire human family. There is no true union with God without union with one another, and so the Holy Spirit moves our hearts not only to love God in religious activ-ities but also to love one another in our daily activities: "Christ prayed that all men might become One as He was One with his Father, in the Unity of the Holy Spirit. Therefore when you and I become what we are really meant to be, we will discover not only that we love one another perfectly but that we are both living in Christ and Christ in us, and we are all One Christ. We will see that it is he who loves in us" (Seeds, 65). Living a life of service to others is not a distrac-tion from union with God but actually a condition for reaching this union: "One of the paradoxes of the mys-tical life is this: that a man cannot enter into the deep-est center of himself, and pass through that center into God, unless he is able to pass entirely out of himself and empty himself and give himself to other people in the purity of a selfless love" (Seeds, 64). Merton emphasizes that the quality of prayer affects the quality of our action. The more deeply we are united to God in prayer, the more energy we have to serve our neighbor. "Action and contemplation now grow together into one life and one unity. They become two aspects of the same thing. Action is charity looking out- Review for Religious ward to other men, and contemplation is charity drawn inward to its own divine source. Action is the stream, and contemplation is the spring. The spring remains more important than the stream, for the only thing that really matters is for love to spring up inexhaustibly from the infinite abyss of Christ and of God.''4 Merton gave me the theology to dedicate myself to both prayer and service. Since both flow from the Holy Spirit, both are sacred. This theology impelled me to social action. Soon after I began my university teaching, I initiated a campus boycott of iceberg lettuce to sup-port the farm workers' union. I encouraged nonviolent picketing of the food service lines. The boycott took more than a year but was ultimately successful. Nonviolence Before reflecting on Merton's spirituality, I had a lim-ited understanding of nonviolence. I thought of it sim-ply as conscientiously objecting to the war in Vietnam and, influenced by Martin Luther King's civil rights movement, as not retaliating physically when attacked. Though I admired these positions, I saw those who took them as rare, highly idealistic, and a bit naive. Merton revolutionized my understanding. His description of the True Self showed me that an attitude of nonviolence is an integral part of living the gospel and following Christ. Since God dwells within every human being, this com-munion has radical consequences for how we think and how we act. When we are in tune with God at our center, in our True Self, we experience our oneness with others, even with our "enemies." Our behavior changes. Merton helped me realize that Western understand-ings of the person foster secularism, individualism, materialism, competition, and a sense of superiority. 67.4 2008 Hauser ¯ Thomas Merton's Legacy: A Personal R~leaion Merton helped me.realize that Western understandings of the person foster secularism, individualism, materialism, competition, and a sense of superiority. This False Self has the illusion that our existence is not connected with God or with others, and this illusion leads to violence: "People who know nothing of God, and whose lives are centered on themselves, imagine that they can only find themselves by asserting their own desires and ambi-tions and appetites in a struggle with the rest of the world. They try to become real by imposing themselves on other people, by appro-priating for them-selves some share of the limited supply of created goods and thus emphasizing the difference between themselves and other men who have less than they, or nothing at all" (Seeds, 47). Merton concludes simply: "I must look for my identity, somehow, not only in God but in other men. I will never be able to find myself if I isolate myself from the rest of mankind as if I were a different kind of being" (Seeds, 51). The transformation Merton calls for happens most profoundly in contemplation. In a busy Kentucky city, Merton experienced his most well-known contemplative awakening: "In Louisville, at the corner of Fourth and Walnut, in the center of the shopping district, I was suddenly overwhelmed with the realization that I loved all those people, that they were mine and I theirs, that we could not be alien to one another even though we were total strangers. It was like waking from a dream of Review for Religious separateness, of spurious self-isolation in a special world, the world of renunciation and supposed holiness.''s Such consciousness is the foundation for Merton's understanding of nonviolence. It can move us to deal with our neighbors always with compassion and love, not violence. We seek nonviolent ways to show our neigh-bors the divine within them as it has been shown joyfully to ourselves. This is the way Merton was leading me to radical implications of being a Christian. How inad-equate my understanding of nonviolence had been! Merton lived during the turbulent 1960s and applied nonviolent principles to social movements. He became the prophetic voice for many involved in these movements. While studying in Washington, I attended many mass demonstrations against the Vietnam War. I remember a group of marchers on Pennsylvania Avenue carrying a ban-ner slandering President Nixon. Merton helped me realize that this was not true nonviolence. Without compassion and love, it was merely a redirection of hatred. Truly non-violent social movements exclude hatred, because we are all members of one human family with God as our Father. I began applying nonviolent principles to personal con-flicts. I realized how often I sought to resolve conflicts by some sort of psychological intimidation. I saw anew the need for prayer. And I began teaching a course titled Faith and Nonviolence. We read the New Testament, Gandhi, Martin Luther King, Cesar Chavez, Daniel Berrigan, and Merton. The course applied nonviolent principles to both societal and personal conflicts. Interreligious Understanding Although I had taken several courses on world reli-gions during my theology studies, I understood these religions mainly as institutions with distinctive creeds, 67.4 2008 Hauser * Thomas Merton's Legacy: .4 Personal Reflection codes, and cults. Through his approach to contem-plation, Merton led me toward an empathetic under-standing of them. Key to this deeper understanding was Merton's insistence that the contemplative experi-ence of the divine is beyond words: "Contemplation is always beyond our own knowledge, beyond our own light, beyond systems, beyond explanations, beyond discourse, beyond dialogue, beyond our own self." "It cannot even be clearly explained. It can only be hinted at, suggested, pointed to, symbolized. The more objec-tively and scientifically one tries to analyze it, the more one empties it of its real content, for this experience is beyond the reach of verbalization and rationalization" (Seeds, 2 & 6). Since all human beings share the same human nature, and since the same God dwells within us all, we may indeed share similar experiences of God. Reading Merton's Inner Experience confirmed this idea for me. Buddhist descriptions of satori are not unlike Merton's descriptions of contemplation. Merton presents a poem. Devoid of thought, I sat quietly by the desk in my official room, With my fountain-mind undisturbed, as serene as water; A sudden crash of thunder, the mind doors burst open, And lo, there sits the old man in all his homeliness. Merton comments: "There sits Chao-pien himself, the same and yet utterly different, for it is the eternal Chao-pien, one with no familiar name, at once humble and mighty., utterly beyond description or comparison because he is beyond yes and no, subject and object, self and not-self. It is like the wonderful, devastating, and unutterable awe of humble joy with which a Christian realizes: 'I and the Lord are One.'''6 Review for Religious This was a major breakthrough in my understand-ing. After my own experiences of contemplation, I could now allow Merton's books and essays on Zen Buddhism, Taoism, Sufism, Judaism, and Hinduism to lead me to deeper understanding of these religions. Since I wanted my students to understand the centrality of prayer and contemplation for every world religion, I began adding these readings to my courses. We all mourned Merton's untimely death in Bangkok on 10 December 1968, during his three-month trip to Asia. This death was especially sad because his firsthand Asian experiences would have given him further data on similarities between Eastern and Western mysticism. My Debt to Merton I realize that many today take for granted the five areas of spirituality that I have described. But Merton's insights were presented before the council and offi-cial Catholicism accepted them. Indeed, his own abbot general censored his 1961 antiwar writings. Merton's writing became foundational for a new generation of Christians and spiritual writers. This fortieth anni-versary of his death is the first time I have stopped to acknowledge my debt. I do not consider it an exaggera-tion to say that Merton was a prophet heralding a new age of spirituality. Merton paved the way for my own understanding of the council's teaching on the Holy Spirit in Christian spirituality. Merton's insistence that the True Self is ontologically united both to God and to all humanity and that the Holy Spirit is the source of this communion transformed my previously unrecognized American indi-vidualism. I had never grasped that the indwelling of the Spirit has actual effects in daily life and daily prayer. The 67.4 2008 Hauser * Thomas Merton's Legacy: .4 Personal Reflection combination of Merton's description of the True Self and the council's message on the Holy Spirit revolution-ized my spirituality. I was so energized by these insights that I wrote three books and dozens of articles. I am indebted to Merton for "bringing me home" to Ignatian prayer. Merton's descriptions of prayer flow-ing spontaneously from daily life led me to reconsider my understanding of it. I realized that Ignatian prayer is not simply to be identified with intense concentra-tion on scripture texts as found in the meditations and contemplations of the Spiritual Exercises. Prayer more characteristic of Ignatius is found in his Contemplation for Obtaining Divine Love and flows from daily life. Observations of Ignatius at prayer, like the following recollection from one of Ignatius's first companions, assure me that I am on the right track: At night he would go up on the roof of the house, with the sky there up above him. He would sit there quietly, absolutely quietly. He would take his hat off and look up for a long time at the sky. Then he would fall on his knees, bowing profoundly to God. Then he would sit on a little bench because the weakness of his body did not allow him to take any other posi-tion. He would stay there bareheaded and without moving. And the tears would begin to flow down his cheeks like a stream, but so quietly and so gently that you heard not a sob nor a sigh nor the least possible movement of his body.7 Merton helped me internalize that hallmark of Ignatian spirituality "Finding God in all things." He also paved the way.for my understanding of Ignatius's discernment of spirits, but that is another article. I have asked myself why my journey into Ignatian spirituality took so long. I recognize now that Iowas blocked by invalid False Self assumptions. I needed Review for Religious someone to address them directly. In God's providence Thomas Merton was that person--the person who with God's grace most made me who I am today as a Catholic Christian. Notes 1 Thomas Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation (New York: New Directions, 1961), pp. 33 & 36. Hereafter, in the text, Seeds. 2 Thomas Merton, Spiritual Direction and Meditation (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1960), p. 67. 3 David Steindl-Rast OSB, "Recollections of Thomas Merton's Last Day in the West," Monastic Studies, Vol. 7, pp. 1-10. 4 Thomas Merton, No Man Is an Island (New York: Doubleday Image, 1955), p. 65. 5 Thomas Merton, Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander (New York: Doubleday Image, 1989), p. 156. 6 Inner Experience, pp. 300-301, taken from L.S. Cunningham, Thomas Merton: Spiritual Master (New York: Paulist Press, 1992). 7 W.W. Meissner SJ, Ignatius of Loyola: The Psychology of a Saint (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1992), p. 280. Personal Reflection / Group Discussion Has Thomas Merton or another spiritual writer influenced my practices of the spiritual life? Like Hauser, how would I describe the change? 67.4 2008 RUTH BOLARTE Our Ethnicity en Route to God ~ elonging and "distinctness" are both .signifi- ~ cant dimensions of my life. Years ago I left my country of origin, Peru, and began religious life in the United States. During those first years, away from fam-ily and friends and the emotional and material support they had been for me, my desire and need to belong and be one of.the group made me conceal a part of myself, my Peruvian culture. My initial years of religious for-mation did not acknowledge my Hispanic heritage and the spiritual treasure it was. My being Hispanic was only a curious novelty, something to be asked a few questions about. Without any intentional fault of those guiding me on the spiritual journey, I neverthe-less received the unspoken message that I should abide by the new codes and values that were presented to me and somehow forget what I had learned in Peru Ruth Bolarte IHM, a member of the Sisters, Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, is director of the Catholic Institute for Evangelization; 4404 North 5th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19140. Review for Religious about God, life, and people. Eventually, little by little, my God-friend became the God of rules and formality. Spontaneity, touching, and initiative disappeared, and a "prove yourself" attitude emerged. I believed in my heart that hard work, silence, and distance were the key to my religious life in the United States. In order to be recognized as one of the group, I adapted myself to the mainstream culture and disre-garded my images of God, of prayer, of life and death. When the opportunity presented itself, I limited my "ethnic sharing" to external aspects of culture: food, music, stories, and dance. These were safe issues and did not upset anyone. People, consciously or not, were simply not interested in listening with open hearts to the heart of my culture: my experiences of God through family, nature, joy, and suffering; my views on authority, poverty, power, or church. I was not raised with a code of beliefs and rules to obey. We.entrusted ourselves to a loving God who walked, ate, laughed, and cried with us throughout the events of our day. Church was not the only place where we could worship God. We gave glory and praise to God through our family celebrations, our processions, and our dead. In later years I would find out that my traditions of religion were what theologians and the church named "popular religigsity." Pope Paul vI explains this concept in his apostolic exhortation Evangelii nuntiandi: " One finds among the people particular expressions of the search for God and for faith, both in the regions where the church has been established for centuries and where she is in the course of becoming established. These expressions were for a long time regarded as less pure and were sometimes despised, but today they are almost everywhere being redis-covered. l 67.4 2008 Bolarte ¯ Our Etbnicity en Route to God The Holy Father explains that these religious expres-sions are susceptible to many misinterpretations. If, however, they are well oriented through the pedagogy of evangelization, they are rich in value since they reflect the thirst for God that 0nly the poor and simple can know. Popular religiosity is a major part of the spiritual life of Hispanic people. Hispanic spirituality is divine and human at the same time; it is incarnated spiritual-ity. 2 God is perceived as all-powerful, sovereign, and superior to all human beings, but also as a member of the family--someone who sits at the table and does not need a special invitation. God is not a far distant image in heaven; God is Emmanuel, always at our side, accom-panying us all day every step of the way. Since these expressions of faith were not acknowl-edged during my formation years, my cultural identity became dim. I only became aware of this only when I visited Peru after having lived in the United States for five years. I began to feel this tension between two seemingly opposite forces, my Pei'uvian culture and my adopted American one, between my yearning to "belong" and my efforts to hold on to my "distinctness." What a surprise it was to find that I did not "belong" anymore to the place where I had lived most of my life! Two cultures, American and Peruvian, had shaped me into a new person I only pardy understood. Returning to my homeland made me conscious that somehow my identity and personhood were rooted in both the American and Peruvian cultures. Once I became aware of this, I felt a need to inte-grate both cultures in my life, whether I resided in Peru or in the United States. The questions for ~e were, How do I do that? and who will understand? Many questions arose, 'and there was no one to talk to about Review for Religious them. Even though I had spiritual directors, I did not feel comfortable bringing up these "cultural" issues. For ten more years I lived with the questions and the ten-sions of being different and trying to belong to a com-munity, a parish, a church that was at the same time borne and foreign. During this time I learned to assert myself and prove to others that I was as capable and prepared as any other religious in the United States. I have come to believe that wholeness in our lives is a process of becoming,, something we undertake each day. Tension is an opportunity for growth and devel-opment. Becoming conscious of my longing to "belong" while also recogniz-ing my "uniqueness" and sense of inde-pendence marked the beginning of a long road borne. Only when I started to ask myself questions about my Latina identity, reading the works of various Hispanic theologians and reflecting critically on my experiences in the United States, was I able to be at borne with the tension of being part of two worlds. I had the opportunity for this reflection while doing the research for my thesis. After so many years living in the United States, I was finally able to name struggles and hurts, and more than anything I could identify, cel-ebrate, and rejoice in my cultural heritage. The tension I had felt became a source of wealth and fulfillment Becoming conscious of my longing to "belong" while also recognizing my "uniqueness" and sense of independence marked the beginning of a long road home. 361 67.4 2008 Bolarte ¯ Our Etbnicity en Route to God As my own "true self" was gradually revealed to me and then to others, a new person emerged, one that was freer to relate to God and others. rather than being a barrier to my social and personal development. The cultural wealth of our various ethnic groups, yours and mine, is a main component in our human and spiritual development. It is crucial that those involved in religious formation, spiritual direction, and ministry consider the cultural factors in people's spir-itual journeys. People need a sense of belong-ing and historical con-tinuity. If we deny our family origins and his-tory, we deny ourselves. 0nly when we feel affirmed in our identity can we be free, open, and welcoming to other cultural groups. On the other hand, people often develop a sense of inferiority, a poor self-image, when they feel minimized or attacked in their ethnic identity. In many cases these feelings become a defen-sive or aggressive attitude toward the dominant ethnic group or toward other minority ethnic groups. Since spirituality involves all aspects of life--psy-chological, physical, social, and political--we need to recognize that all cultural groups have distinctive ways of facing life, sickness, family, power, pain, and death. An inte, grated spirituality recognizes that all of our lives must be subjected to the transformative power of the Holy Spirit. We hear and appropriate the Good News of Jesus from our various cultural perspectives. Those perspectives influence how we understand the message Review for Religious and how we respond to it. Vgho can be sure of a univer-sal description that is the norm for all? The ministry of Jesus is to reveal the meaning of life and offer humanity an opportunity to enter freely into a loving relationship with God as adult daughters and sons. Because an important root of spirituality is found in the self, we must integrate the psychological value of self-affirmation, self-fulfillment, or self-realization with the Christian tradition of self-denial, self-emptying, or self-surrender. From the moment of birth we seek in our human development a proper balance, the right connectedness with others and the right separateness from others. The challenge for everyone is to achieve relatedness without symbiotic engulfment and indepen-dence without alienation and emptiness. As my own "true self" was gradually revealed to me and then to others, a new person emerged, one that was freer to relate to God and others. In faith I had the power to respond to the gift of my being and abandon the "false self" of pretenses; concealments, and fears. It was this "false self" that I was called to deny, the self that hid my ethnicity. Thomas Merton summarizes this dynamic when he affirms that if we find God we find ourselves and if we find our own selves we find God.3 For Merton, maturing in the spiritual life is a discov-ery journey, the discovery of oneself and of God. One of the tasks of those involved in faith formation is to search for and reveal the seed of God that is already there in her and her culture. They must lead her to recognize Christ in herself and challenge those aspects of her which need purification so the complete image of God can be revealed. All through human development, critical reflection is required. As people grow in maturity, there is a shift 363 67.4 2008 Bolarte * Our Etbnicity en Route to God from being acted on by the world to acting on the world. In my experience of tension between two worlds, it was only when I internalized and reflected on being a part of two cultures that I could incorporate the tension into who I was. Duringthis internalization, I needed to grieve my cultural losses, experience the pain of the hurts, and forgive those who purposely or not had discriminated against me. Sometimes people do not perceive that ignoring cultural differences is a form of discrimination: it deprives someone of her distinctive cultural identity, the unique person she was created to be. Our spiritual journey in Christ requires accepting that our worth, our value, our selfhood as children of God is given to us as our birthright. It means knowing deeply that we are known, loved, and invited to partnership in being with the God who from all eternity intended us and who desires our love. To answer the question "Who am I?" we need to incorporate all our past--including the past of our family, culture, religion, and national group. Only this person can be the subject of our own destiny. Knowing that I am loved by God, I need not live in anxi-ety, or seek affirmation through achievement or some other form of power, for I learn to accept imperfections and strengths, my own and others'. God's grace invites us to become the persons we were created to be. God's love does not absorb, anni-hilate, or force itself upon the beloved. Instead it longs for the beloved to become more and more "other" or differentiated. Without such "letting be" of the beloved, the dialogical intimacy essential to a loving relation-ship would be impossible. God allows unique persons to emerge and become capable of deep relationships because, God, "how could you give yourself to me unless you had fii'st given me to myself?.''4 Review for Religious By no means is my endeavor to integrate cultures within myself and my religious life a finished task. It is a process that every day makes use of the newness I encounter in the many kinds of relationship in my life. Sometimes I long for the support of my Anglo friends because they can understand my experience; other times I look for my Latino support group because they can feel forme. There are times when I feel alienated from one or both of the cultures, like a fish out of water; at other times I am tired of the tension of the two worlds and I just want to run and hide. Being a "bridge per-son"-- gente puente--is dangerous business. One takes the risk of being hurt or judged--becoming the scape-goat for one of the cultural groups. At these times I remember Who called me to be a Latina woman reli-gious evangelizing in the United States. God is the one who gifts me with the ability to interact with two ethnic groups. Yes, the gift entails pain and suffering--dying to my "false self." But in Jesus' resurrection I find the hope and joy of new life and the courage to continue living in a tension that is a source of new life for many, including me. Notes ~ Pablo VI, Evangelii nuntiandi (On Evangelization in the Modern World), §48. 2 Rosa Marfa Icaza, "Prayer, Worship, and Liturgy in a United States Hispanic Key," in Frontiers of Hispanic Theology in the United States, ed. Allan Figueroa Deck (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1995), p. 136. 3 Thomas Merton, Seeds of Contemplation (New York: Dell, 1960), p. 53. 4 Cited by Nicholas of Cusa as quoted in John Haught, God aj%r Darwin (Boulder, Colo.: Westview Press, 2000), p. 40. 67.4 2008 heart BEATRICE EICHTEN Constitutions and Heart Knowledge knowledge 366 In this article I suggest that religious--you and I, wherever we are--reflect on our vari-ous constitutions, on what we say about our life together and on how we live what we say. For most congregations the original con-stitutions antedate all the members. They were written to carry the inspiration and hopes of founders, foundresses, and early members regarding the possibility of living the gospel with charismatic idealism and practical action. They contain many elements--identity, vowed life, community, mission, prayer, membership, governance, and stewardship--all matters of relationship. After Vatican Council II ~any members were involved in adapting to the changing times. This called for re-visioning and revising the constitutions and having them Beatrice Eichten OSF here offers an adaptation of words to a Franciscan Sister's community. Her address is/577 Huff Street, #1; Winona, Minnesota 55987. eichten.consuldng@gmail.com Review for Religious approved. Now, many years later, it may be helpful to review our constitutions and ask (possibly in a second-ary document) how our community life and governance are lived today. This would be a practical effort, not an academic one. In the fast pace of life today, with many calls on our attention, have we lost touch with the heart of who we are and why we are here? Few members entered their community because they read compelling statements in their congregation's con-stitution, and it is surely the same today. Women enter a community because they are drawn to members who embody its charism, who have been claimed as God's own and who love and live for, hope and work for, God's kingdom on earth. Such women have the energy and spirit of the founders and the early members. They may not be able to quote the constitution, but they know its values and challenges. They have "heart knowledge" of their constitution, from their experience in the presence of God and their community. One could say that they know their constitution "by heart." Their lives express their constitution, the dreams and hopes and challenges it contains. We all know persons like this--we may even be one! How do people acquire that "heart knowledge"? By persistence. I am reminded of my training as apastoral psychotherapist. We were told that only after we learned the training center's theory well would we know when to adapt or depart from it. I remember the foundational text--it was like reading a foreign language! I read it diligently, paragraph by paragraph. Some sentences were a paragraph long! I would read them several times silently, and then out loud. I even underlined the sub-ject, verb, and object as I tried to figure out what they meant. Bit by bit, as I studied the text and saw it used 367 67.4 2008 Eicbten ¯ Constitutions and Heart Knowledge by skillful practitioners, I came to know and understand the theory very well. The text became a practical work-ing document for me, one that was useful and which I felt comfortable adapting as needed. Your constitution is like that. It captures the funda-mentals of your way of life--who you say you are as a congregation and how you will live your life together. As you study it and live it, you begin to live it "by heart." You make some adaptations that are, hopefully, faithful to the intent of the original document. After a while you live your life without conscious reference to your constitution--and you may have lost some of the motivation and challenge it carries. A wise Sufi teacher said of the Koran that'it is like a map. If it is used well, if you follow the rivers of life it charts out for you, it helps you make progress in living a faithful life. If you do not use it, why have it? But, he added, it is important to remember that, unlike maps, rivers change course over time. If you insist on follow-ing the river as it is mapped, you will miss the flow of life. Our constitutions are like that map, and charism, vows, and mission are rivers of our lives. Vghen maps are used wisely, they help. Ernie Larkin OCarm offers another image for our constitutions. He says we "emphasize the presence of God in all things, but may tend to forget the envelope that contains it." Our constitutions are the envelope that contains the essentials of our community way of life, essentials that are "the medium through which God comes." Our constitutions contain our "Now," which is "the only place where one can meet God." Fundamentally, then, constitutions exist to articu-late "heart knowledge," and are not the mere sets of rules and laws that a legalistic mindset too easily makes Review for Religious them. St. Clare of Assisi was aware of this. She insisted that her Rule, the guideline for the Poor Ladies' reli-gious life, express clearly her sisters' impulse in coming together. Essential to her vision was the privilege of poverty, a privilege and obli-gation which she insisted be written into their official Rule. It contained inspiration or poetry along with obliga-t_ ion or requirement. It became a living document when its followers lived by it. C.S. Lewis expresses the idea: "poetry replaces grammar, gospel replaces law, longing transforms obedience." Constitutions contain both inspiration and require-ments. Congregations sometimes register only the inspi-ration while bypassing the requirements. Sometimes they bypass the inspiration and register only the require-ments-- and chafe at them. So how do we make our constitutions truly living documents that honor both poetry and obligation? In our relationships with God and one another, do we "mind the music and the step"? Are joyful inspiration and gracefully disciplined foot-work changing us into Jesus' disciples? Fundamentally, then, constitutions exist to articulate "heart knowledge," and are not the mere sets of rules and laws that a legalistic mindset too easily makes them. Conversion Religious constitutions come from our relationship with God, from our desire to let God be the center of our life. There are different ways to do this. Franciscan 369 67.4 2008 Eicbten ¯ Constitutions and Heart Knowledge constitutions seek conversion of life. The Third Order Regular Rule of St. Francis says this: "With all., who wish to serve the Lord; the brothers and sisters of this order are to persevere in true faith and penance. They wish to live this evangelical conversion of life in a spirit of prayer, of poverty, and of humility." You and I know that conversion is not a comfortable experience, nor is it one you can program for yourself: "I think that this year I will be converted to poverty, or nonviolence, or . " Typically, conversion comes to us unbidden, in ways that surprise and perturb us. Dr. Ann Ulanov, a Jungian psychoanalyst, says: "Being truth-ful with ourselves can be messy business. [We think] the illusions we have created . . . will be more readily received than our true self." She goes on to say that we all have protective armor which can look like virtue or competence or generosity. Nonetheless, it is armor designed to hide our wounds and messiness and keep us safe and protected. The human reality is that those very wounds create chinks in our armor. Conversion occurs because God will always find the chinks and slip through them to unsettle us and invite us to make "soul decisions," decisions to recommit our hearts to a pilgrim's journey in witness to the gospel. Soul decisions open us to be changed by God's abundant love into true disciples. Sister Helen Prejean resisted the gospel's social-justice dimension until, at a presentation by Sister Maria Augusta Neal, she heard the phrase "integral to the Good News was that they would be poor no lon-ger." Helen adds, "And I got it. She cracked me open." Perhaps her very resistance was the source of that con-version moment. She moved a year later from a suburb to a housing project that was "less than five miles . . . Review for Religious but it was galaxies away." She could not have done that without a profound soul decision. How do our relationships in community open us to "soul decisions" or conversion moments? I see four movements. Relationship with God We all entered a communal life of prayer and con-templation, of working relationships, and of minis-try that fulfills and stretches us. Communal life, lived fully, offers ample opportunities for conversion. Parker Palmer says we enter religious life with the illusion that outside there is jealousy, compe-tition, resentment, power struggle, status difference, and more, but in religious life there will be only love, sharing, working together, generosity, equality, and so forth. We find, however, after living in a religious community for a while, that people are the same both inside and outside religious life. We pour effort into learning to commu-nicate, to deal with conflict, to share our faith, to do many other things, hoping thereby to have the perfect community. Guess what? Even if we do learn all these things, there is still iealousy, resentment, and failure. We learn that there is no perfect community. We have to face, says Palmer, our "illusion of salva-tion by interaction." In the face of contradictions and In our constitutions and in our living of them we are called to center our lives on God, realizing that God longs for us and desires our love. 371 67.4 2008 , Eicbten ¯ Constitutions and Heart Knowledge differences, we are called to "go deep inside [ourselves] beyond the polarities to a place of unity where every-thing holds together." We know that place as God. Etty Hillesum says of this place: "There is a really deep well inside me. And in it dwells God. Sometimes I am there too." In the midst of our real relationships, in our prayer and letting go and giving over to God, we move to the awareness that salvation is from God. We only come to know that when we come to know the mystery of God--that God is for us and is given to us. In our constitutions and in our living of them we are called to center our lives on God, realizing that God longs for us and desires our love. Coming to believe this leads us to have room for others, seeing.in them the face of Jesus, accepting, lov-ing, and receiving them because God loves them and receives them. This leads me to the second interper-sonal movement. Relationship with Others in Community Our commitment to life in community is not some-thing casual or optional. It is a lifelong commitment to our congregation, to its shared life in the Spirit, and to its members rights and responsibilities. As members we are interdependent financially, structurally, and relation-ally. Sandra Schneiders says that a constitutive element of communitarian life is "a permanent acceptance of the community itself as the primary and determining rela-tional context of one's life." It means loving, and living today at this particular time, in this particular commu-nity, with these particular women--with all our gifts, limitations, and idiosyncrasies. Our diversity is "authored and authorized by the Source of all life, in whose Mystery diversity poses no Review for Religious threat to unity." When we become aware that the very diversity that delights God troubles and disturbs us, we have stepped into a special moment for conversation and conversion. We realize that diversity need not be a threat to unity. Rather, in our diversity, we realize the need to make "a commitment to sustained and deliber-ate conversation for the purpose of achieving a common ground." Michael Blastic OFMConv points to St. Francis as a prime example of relationships with the other: Francis allows the other to be other. His sense of self is an openness to and for the other. Francis continu-ously looks to the Other, Jesus Christ, as the content of his self. By definition. Francis's self was room for the other. Francis was "a person in full possession of him-self, but [was] never by himself. In order to be an example for others, Francis needed to work at being himself---it did not come naturally., for him. Fran-cis did not nor could he accomplish this identity for himself by himself. One cannot become a self with room for others by oneself for oneself. In our constitutions we call ourselves to this kind of awareness of the other, challenging ourselves to embrace diversity within the congregation as a sign of the Spirit and, by doing so, to proclaim the possibility of harmony on earth. Accepting diversity, however, does not mean that individualism reigns, even though we remain differ-ent and retain our unique characteristics (the only way we each have to express our humanity). Accepting our diversity enables us to give a countercultural witness to a new kind relationship, a relationship based on unity, on a mutuality where there is no "other." This witness of community, says John Allen, a Catholic newspaper cor- 373 67.4 2008 Eicbten ¯ Constitutions and Heart Knowledge respondent in Rome, is the most powerful gift we have to offer our fragmented and troubled world today. Relationship for Mission We are in our religious community not simply for ourselves. Our vowed commitment "does not exist within the individual alone, but within the context of community . . . a community fully engaged in con-versation about its life." The mission statement in my community's constitution challenges us to "be a com-munity of compassion, reconciliation, and reverence for all creation, to rebuild our own society, and to reach out in solidarity to our sisters and brothers throughout the world." Becoming part of the spirit and flow of energy that is our religious community stretches us and opens us to God's great energy working in the world today. As reli-gious we have a great responsibility. We need to know and to claim that we are the face of God to those around us, and we need to open our eyes and hearts to see the face of God in creation and in every creature. How we live that responsibility is a challenge. Marie Chin RSM, in a presentation to my Franciscan community, said that we are challenged to take a crucial step in recognizing that we can no longer equate community with mere group living or, to put it more blundy, simply living under the same roof for expediency or convenience. Community has to be for a greater project than self. Somehow we have to change our root image of community as a place of security where we have all our needs met and instead begin to explore the chal-lenges of justice, the challenges of forming relation-ships that are right and just and which are potentially present in community. Review for Religious Her challenge confronts our tendency to become, as Laurie Brink OP says "settled religious, [who have] lost sight of the power and passion of our original covenant with God." It is not that we are not involved in commu-nity life or engaged in a valued ministry, but rather that we are settling for comfort and "good enough"--which in turn means liv-ing with little zest and passion for life and ministry. It means not being willing to take risks or make changes that might unset-tle. Ron Rolheiser OMI says that the problem for reli-gious today is not that we are not good people, doing good things, but that we are not great people. We have settled for giving ninety percent of ourselves and held on to the ten percent that would give witness to the pas-sion and energy of God alive in us. When we entered, I would guess, we wanted to give ourselves a hundred percent. Avis Clendenen offers an interesting reflection on how we may have adapted Jeremiah's response to God "from 'too young' to 'too old'; Ah, Lord God! I am weary from speaking the truth in love. Our best days are behind us. I am too old." And God says, "Do not say 'I am too old,' for even now to all to whom I send you you will go; be not afraid, for I am with you to deliver you." Are we holding back? Can we live more fully every moment of our life today and on into the future? The problem for religious today is not that we are not good people, doing good things, but that we are not great people. 67.4 2008 Eicbten * Constitutions and Heart Knowledge 376 Relationship with Structure and Authority Our constitutions are about holding with care the relationships that shape our life together. They assume and emphasize our relationship with God, which in turn is expressed in relationships with other members and associates and with the church and society. Treating these relationships with care can only happen when both members and leaders take seriously their responsibility as part of community. As individuals, you bring your personal power to the community, ideally making it a force for growth, bridge building, and healing, rather than a force for negativ-ity, divisiveness, and controlling behavior. Together you affirm that your congregation is there to facilitate your religious way of life and your ministry, and you accept responsibility as members to participate in defining and working towards the purpose of your community. The goal of your congregation's governance is to exemplify and facilitate the living of your congregation's charism, weaving "the organizational elements of shared values, mission, and vision and translating tl~em into reality, into a course of action." In the governance of our religious congregations, we have various indications of history and personality. Rigid authority structures have left many with scars and cautions, and efforts towards new models of communal living have not always been successful. Leadership functions amid our practice and expec-tations of ourselves as members of our communities. Patricia Wittberg SC offers three models of relation-ships of community and authority. Hierarchical/Bureaucratic Model: This model offers an organized way to carry out the purpose and mission of the congregation. The value it emphasizes is effi- Review for Religious ciency; the mode of operation is dependency. Power and authority are concentrated at the top and flow downward, as does communication. There is little individual responsibility. The young are mentored, and the model can continue without changing. Every congregation has some elements of hierarchy/bureau-cracy which are needed for effective functioning of an organization. Associational Modek This model values individual fulfill-ment; the individual "I" is at the center of the model. Relationships are one-on-one and dependent on the individual's choice of persons to whom s/he wishes to relate, both within'the organization and outside it. Persons live as if this were a professional organiza-tion where membership is equated with paying one's dues or meeting basic requirements and participating as one wishes. Leadership is often not acknowledged or is reluctant to call for difficult actions on the part of members. This model is not likely to reproduce into the next generation. Communitarian/Relational/Intentional Modek The value for this model is the common good; interdependence is the desired mode of operation. Relationships and communication are mutual and are focused around a sense of common identity--"we" with members and leaders working together for common goals. In this model, individual members are willing to sacrifice or limit some personal goals for the common good. There is a mutual shaping of the future. Wittberg says today'~ congregations have their ¯ Toe in the Hierarchical/Bureaucratic model; ¯ Torso in the Association model; ¯ Hand reaching out to the Communitarian model, but fearful of sacrifice or of retreat to the Hierarchical model. She offers this reflection: Religious congregations, precariously balanced between the competing commitment models of 67.4 2008 Eichten ¯ Constitutions and Heart Knowledge 378 ] bureaucracies and intentional communities, may. ¯ have mutually contradictory expectations of their leadership or of their members . Congregatio.ns which refrain from addressing the ambiguous roles of leadership [I would add membership] may miss discov-ering creative and psychologically healthy new ways of filling them. Most communities, I wager, create goals based on the Communitarian model while denying or not acknowledging that the other models exist and may even predominate. There is no right/wrong, good/bad to any model; each has good elements. It might be worthwhile to reflect together on the blessings and challenges of each model as you experience them in your community. The challenge may be to identify and implement the best elements in each as we move into the future. Governance is part of the process of communal transformation. It invites members to a continual com-munal effort toward conversion of heart, mind, and spirit. We bring together our individual selves with our dreams, passions, idiosyncrasies, and personal power. Through the design of our constitution, we seek together the common good for the sake of the gospel. We are one with many, experiencing a range of relation-ships that offer the possibility of transformations into people mutually empowering and accountable. All of these relationships--with God, with one another, with authority, and in mission--are what constitutes your religious congregation and mine. Relationship calls for risk, trust, hope, and moments of conversion, moments to be followed up with firm "soul decisions" to give our all to God's grand dream "that all may be one." Review for Religious Personal Reflection / Group Discussion "Fundamentally constitutions exist to articulate 'heart knowledge,' and are not the mere sets of rules and laws that a legalistic mindset too easily makes them." Have I experienced a "heart knowledge" approach to the reading and study of the constitutions of my congrega-tion? What are some necessary steps for me to take in order to read the constitutions in such a way? What happens to me when I approach the constitutions of my congregation in terms of relationship~to God, to community, and to mission? How do I understand my relationship to structure and authority? Dark Matter It should not surprise us that we encounter darkness and unknowingness within; two-thirds of the cosmos is dark energy and we are offspring of that unfolding mystery, pregnant with possibilities, gestating, incubating in our wombs. The shapeless masses and undeveloped forms lie clogged in a fathomless morass, yet the Potter takes the no-thingness, gently birthing it into a new creation. Barbara Mayer OSB 379 67.4 2008 NESTOR GREGOIRE Can New Life Arise from the Rule Book? 380 ~iin every religious congregation the religious Rule s the distillation of the community's spirit, ideals, goals, and governance. It is the result of years of reflec-tion and prayer, revisions and constitutional changes. It is meant to be the mission statement (long before the term was ever developed) of all the members of the religious congregation: novices, newly professed, and those with perpetual vows. But have the rules become too much a document of doctrinal values and governance procedures in too nar-row a sense? While they are read and studied, reflected upon and taught in many conferences, are they a source of nourishment at the grass roots? Do we consult the Rule Book about what to do, or do we use it for prayer and as inspiration for our prayer, our liturgy, and the community's day-to-day life? Is it more reference book than prayer book? Nestor Gregoire OMI lives at 504 - 3rd Avenue East; Meadow Lake, Saskatchewan; S9X 1H5 Canada. olppastor@sasktel.net Review for Religious How do the Rule Book and the constitutions serve your congregation? Is it very directive, constricting the community's life and spirit, or does it improve vision and expand the horizons of community members? Does the text go beyond expressing doctrinal correctness and touch the community's lived experience? How does the Rule actually fit in the day-to-day living of the local community? Do particular rules have noticeable par-ticular effects? Are there unintended consequences? The Rule Book must be more than a reference book that the novices study, consult, and know parts of from memory. It must become user friendly and be a living part of the community's prayer life. A good indicator of this would be how worn the pages of our personal copy of the Rule Book are. Are they library fresh, or do they have fingerprints, personal notations, and other signs of frequent use? Does the book appear to be one that is close to the heart of a community member? User Friendly Each community can work to make the Rule user friendly in its own way. There are many ways that indi-viduals and communities can find to do this and thereby nourish their own and the community's spiritual life. No one size fits all. Be creative. In the publishing world there have always been meditation books to serve our prayer and reflection, often with a page containing one thought or insight for each day of the year. The reader need not delve into a developed chapter. Often religious congregations will prepare a book of meditations for each day of Lent and Advent and send it out to their members. One of the best ways to make the Rule Book user friendly is to ask members of the community to develop 381 67.4 2008 Gregoire * Can New Life Arise from the Rule Book? 382 a series of meditations and prayers that arise from the values, the vision, and the actual words of the rules. What themes recur frequently throughout the rules? What resources are there available to assist reflecting and praying about the meaning and implications of indi-vidual rules and their contexts? With the Rule Book as our source document, it is possible-to develop a series of meditations which incor-porate the values and teachings of general chapters, writings of our congregation's past and present spiri-tual teachers, and stories of members who served well, lived the charism with joy, and even may have given the congregation its particular tone. Bring the character and flair of these members to the meditations. The stories and the experience of members who have preceded us can help us discover in the Rule mean-ings that are new to us. Each congregation's Rule Book did take on flesh, in joy and tears, in earlier members. What possibilities does the same Rule challenge us to try and perhaps fulfill today? By preparing a series of meditations on the rules and constitutions of my own congregation, the Oblates of Mary Immaculate, I discovered new connections being made between the documents of the past four general chapters, the talks of our superior general, and the text of the Rule. New depths appeared in my own under-standing of our "mission statement." The Founder's Writings There are many opportunities to take bite-size quo-tations and insights from the talks and writings of the founder to flesh out the meaning of particular state-ments in the Rule: We can parallel today's text with passages which ring with the conviction of the founding Review for Religious members. The writings of the founder and founding members can help us appreciate and integrate the offi-cial text into our daily lives. Using the actual words of our congregation's founder can develop a fuller understanding and application of this particular rule. Our understanding of the present text must not be based only on its meaning on the page. It must be broadened to the possibilities that are given to it through the insights of our foundation documents and the firstmissionary endeavors. Allow the writings of the founder and the early members to give new flesh to our understanding of our community charism, the religious values and idealism of our institute. When we try to broaden the possibilities for new insights into and understanding of the Rule, we can find togetherness and nourishment in our foun-dational days and in our church's mission in our mod-ern world. Not only must we seek the contributions of the past to our living the Rule today, but we must be receptive to the new insights and challenges that our situation brings to the Rule. The Rule must always be in dialogue, giving to and receiving from our current mission work, our reflections, and our prayer. Daily Prayer The words of the Rule can be used in composing prayers for the community's daily life. Take individual statements of our rules and constitutions and adapt them into prayers of intercession for the daily office. A little editing can bring the rules' clear and concise statements into our prayer with God. Here are two examples, from our Oblate Constitutions and Rules. The text is not just read but becomes a living part of our prayer. 67.4 2008 Gregoire ¯ Can New Life Arise from the Rule Book? Leader: Lord Jesus, may we always work in cooperation with you, our Savior, and imitate your example-- Response: --by committing ourselves principally to evan-gelizing the poor (Constitution #1). Leader: We pray that the community of the Apostles may with you, our Jesus, be the model of our life (Constitution #3). Response: May we come together in apostolic communi-ties of priests and brothers, united to God by the vows of religion, cooperating with you, our Savior (Constitution #1). We must search for other places in the Rule that can be used in composing new prayers for various community gatherings: at the beginning of meet-ings, on renewal days, at funeral prayer services, and so forth. 384 Poetry and Song Our Rules are meant to be user friendly, to be alive in us, to be at home in our emotions and in our heartfelt prayers. They must touch us in order to move us, to energize us tolive the religious values and the charism our Rule expresses. In her classroom a good teacher makes sure that her students not only pay attention and read the lesson on the board, but also write it, sing it, recite it, and put it .into bodily motion whenever possi-ble. There are so mgny ways that lessons can and should become part of her students' minds and hearts and lives. Too often our religious Rule has been limited to the printed text. Can we express it in new ways? One of the most underused possibilities for our Rule to become more user friendly is to turn it into poetry and song. Where are the gems of religious thought that are seeking to get off official printed pages and be sung Review for Religious as proof of our willing service of Christ and as ways to bring joy and love to the poor? Has the text of our Rule ever become a hymn or a refrain? Have we asked the poets in our midst to look at the Rule and allow the poetic muse to bring forth through them new pic-tures for our imaginations, fresh words that touch our hearts? And what of the photographers, the painters, and those who can sketch? Can they create visual expres-sions of the valued teachings in our Rule? Can the text evoke in them color, pattern, and depth that they can share? For the next community gathering, can one of our photographers bring together a collection of sym-bolic photos and significant texts to help us see our Rule in new and vibrant ways? Let the imagination within your community enable your Rule to be absorbed by your community through all five senses. How else? Let me draw a picture from many a childhood. Will your community's Rule Book be like an encyclopedia that was bought years ago to give the children a learning atmosphere but was hardly ever used? Or will it be like your mother's cookbook, tat-tered, pages falling out or sticking together, scribblings in the margin, flour stains, memories of mother calling us or fragrances inviting us to just-baked cinnamon rolls or to supper? Cookbook, prayer book, rule book--all redolent of love and devotion and sharing. How differ-ent are they? 67.4 2008 JOEL RIPPINGER Monasticism' s Rooted Adaptations ~f~irtainlmg oass ta f porrotyfe ysseeadr sm ionn ak cwohmom hausn liitvye odf Benedictines, I am aware of the reality that, at the beginning of the third millennium, monasteries of men and women living according to the Benedictine Rule constitute an endangered species. We run the risk of becoming an exotic form of religious expression, with our communities acquiring the character of religious theme parks and our spiritual tradition being taken over by increasing numbers of nonprofessed laypersons intensely attracted to the monastic charism. Several developments have been part of this phe-nomenon. Vocations to vowed monasticism have been in decline for some years, especially in North America and Europe, and that course seems to be continuing. With this decline there has been a marked increase of lay oblates and affiliates to monastic communities. Joel Rippinger OSB writes again from Marmion Abbey; 850 Butterfield Road; Aurora, Illinois 60504. Religious Many of those bringing with them this new interest in monastic life have adopted and are putting into prac-tice much of this ancient heritage. Indeed, one of the remarkable aspects of the recent rise in popularity of all things monastic has been the spate of books and articles by such non-Catholic and nonprofessed writers as Kathleen Norris. Norris and others have brought to monastic life both an inherent sympathy for its spiritual character and an outsider's insights into its distinctive charism. They have brought to wide circles of believers their insights into monastic common life and liturgical prayer. The contemporary phrase "family values" has a spiritual counterpart in what book publishers have pro-moted as monastic values. In fact, it seems that attaching the very word Benedictine or monastic to any book can assure many readers. The number expands when it takes in American and British television productions chroni-cling life inside monasteries for visitors from outside the cloister. The recent surprise hit from the Grande Chartreuse in the French Alps, "Into Great Silence," was an exploration of the most austere monastic order, the Carthusians. All of this has generated some striking spiritual scenarios. Increasing numbers of the laity are seeking retreats and spiritual direction at monastic houses, even as the professed monastic men and women struggle to maintain sufficient staff to care for their visitors' needs. Diocesan priests, who once were sent unwillingly to monasteries as a place to be disciplined and do pen-ance, now willingly sacrifice time and personal comfort to make personal retreats in the solitude and silence of monastic guest rooms. A cottage industry has arisen to publish material on St. Benedict's Rule as a model for corporate management, ecological balance, and family 67.4 2008 Rippinger ¯ Monasticism's Rooted Adaptations The hospitality called for in the monastic tradition trumps demands for orthodoxy or religious conversion, life. And, as we have said, programs of spirituality are likely to attract sincere searchers if they use the terms Benedictine or monastic in their publicity. At one level, all of this is cause for rejoicing. An ancient and revered tradition of spiritual formation and communal observance has been retrieved. What only a few decades ago many considered an arcane and irrelevant current of church life is now prized as a source from which to draw the gospel's living waters. Nor does it hurt that monasticism repre-sents a strain of tra-dition that antedates the Reformation and the more polemi-cal and controver-sial categories of the Catholic Church's public profile. Protestants and other non-Catholics come to pray and to dialogue in monastic settings, and they feel at home. The hospitality called for in the monastic tradition trumps demands for orthodoxy or religious con-version. Moreover, the sacred space of monastic cloisters attracts an intriguing variety of searchers. There are those seeking the soundness and insights of spiritual direction, pursuing like Tony Hendra the wisdom of the "Father Joes." There are those drawn by the aesthetic appeal of Gregorian chant and the spare beauty, not of bare ruined choirs, but of natural landscape and architecture that inte-grates silence and a life shared in community. There are those who, caught in the frenzy and rootlessness of what passes for contemporary culture, see in the deep-rooted witness of monastic communities a safe haven. Review for Religious At another level, there is cause for concern. The fact that some monastic communities are dying is a reminder that this is part of a historical cycle that has been in place for well over 1500 years. The dying also alerts us to an unsettling prospect for the near term. There will be fewer and smaller communities of pro-fessed monastic men and women in North America and in first-world countries generally, along with the emer-gence of an ever larger number of nonprofessed devo-tees of all things monastic. The irony here has already been referred to. Devout "outsiders" come to a monas-tery today for the experience of leisure and for restful rhythms of prayer, but they also expect to encounter monastics, whose own time for spiritual direction and holy leisure is now much eroded from what it was in an era of bulging novitiates. It may in fact be a blessing that the outsiders look-ing over the cloister wall are now faced with the real-ity of human struggle and imperfection that is always present in monastic enclosure, but too often in the past has been disguised by various romantic views of monas-tic life. The economy of monasteries is of a piece with its marginal status in society--always a bit parlous and never capable of assuring a comfort zone for those who are committed to it. At the same time the interface with a nonmonastic public has changed. The services pro-vided by the larger monastic communities have evolved with the passage of time. No longer anchored exclu-sively in such institutional ministry as education or pas-toral care, many of the more contemplative houses now emphasize the signature monastic marker of hospital-ity. Monasteries that were once remote in both a physi-cal and a psychological sense now have accessible Web sites and accommodating retreat centers. While some of 67.4 2008 Rippinger * Monasticism's Rooted Adaptations Monasteries of the third millennium have broader borders their contact with an outside public entails the selling of caskets and caramels, fruitcakes and jam, greeting cards and icons, another dimension consists in offering guests the freedom of a room without HBO or wireless com-puter hookup, but with the amplified sounds of nature and the silence of the cloister. The counsel of a wisdom figure and the simple rhythms of a daily round of prayer and work constitute for many guests the unique spiritual ambience of monastic hospitality. If monastic life has been de-romanticized in recent years, it has also been given a wider religious compass. Monasteries of ~e third millennium have broader bor-ders than their predecessors. An international com-munity like Taiz6 illustrates an ele-ment of young than their predecessors, people that is quite at home in the lit-urgy and life of a monastic commu-nity. Thomas Merton would no doubt be impressed at how his Trappist community at Gethsemani recently invited a number of victims of clergy sex abuse to their community to have the monks hear their stories. The spirit of ecumenism and religious renewal heralded by Vatican Council II is incorporated in the variegated communities of Bose and its satellite houses in Italy. The number of non-Catholic and non-Christian com-munities that have claimed monastic connections in recent years is not small. These include not just tra-ditional communities of the Anglican and Lutheran tradition that follow the Benedictine Rule, but variants Revie~v for Religious of the Orthodox faith that follow the different forms of Eastern monasticism. This has led to some fascinat-ing boundary crossing, such as Pentecostal seminarians in Missouri taking regular weekend retreats at a local Trappist monastery or a Monastic Institute sponsored by St. John's Abbey in Minnesota inviting representa-tives from Buddhist and Islamic traditions to speak of monastic hospitality. A measured look at the future should not induce too much anxiety. Monasticism in the third millennium can count on doing what it has always done: adapt its timeless liturgical round and its particular work of com-munity life to fit the needs of a changing world and ever more complex demands. To do that in a way that is faithful to its spiritual pedigree and open to a wider public will require drawing both old and new from its storehouse. The shape of a future monastic identity will have less to do with drawing people by the charm of its physical surroundings and more with the substance of spiritual life. However newly configured it becomes in the course of the coming generations, one can only hope that monasteries will remain places where a wide variety of people can find a place of peace, a place where the work of inner transformation can be encouraged and expedited. 391 67.4 2008 WILLIAM P. CLARK Revisiting Hope spiritual reflection An Irish-American author, by the name of Frank O'Connor, writing of his growing up in Ireland, told how he and his pals enjoyed hiking in the countryside. Sometimes they would come to a wall separating one farm from another, a wall that seemed too high to scale. They would then toss their caps over it and thus be motivated to scale it. When obstacles daunt, we need to use our hope like those caps. In one of Graham Greene's novels, a man speaks of hope in a strange way. He refers to it as a disease. If it is a disease, it is a disease which both comforts and strengthens and is an antidote for the cancer of despair. We very much need hope after all the disheartening things we have experienced in our world and in our church in recent years. We need hope William P. Clark O!VII, in active retirement from teach-ing philosophy, writes from St. Henry's Oblate Residence; 200 North 60th Street; Belleville, Illinois 62223. Revi~-w for Religious in our own public and private lives. Charles Spurgeon offers a good image of hope: "Hope is like a star--not seen in the sunshine of prosperity, and only discovered in the night of adversity." Hope seems especially important as we grow older. As adults we come to realize that choices really do not exist in the way we thought they would when we were children. We expected the regal power of adulthood to provide clarity and insight and control. In the light of humbling realizations, hope takes on increased impor-tance. According to an oft-quoted saying of Julian of Norwich, "The highest honor we can give God is to live gladly because of the knowledge of that love." We can give God that honor only through faith and hope. We know of God's love through faith. The primary object of hope--and our destiny--is to be perfectly united with God in love. Diametrically opposed to hope is the belief that existence is meaningless. If existence has no mean-ing, why would anyone want to continue living? One of our most intimate experiences is of ourselves as incomplete, as unfinished. As someone put it, "In this life there are no finished symphonies." We are drawn beyond anything we manage to achieve. Regardless of the level at which we find ourselves, we feel an attrac-tion to something still higher. In a certain sense, we leave every achievement behind in the very moment of accomplishment. When we achieve what we most want, our pleasure in it often fades. We even may be most acutely aware of our failures precisely when, after some achievement, someone praises us for it. Even in our achievements, we experience the need to go beyond where we are. We still hunger for what is "not yet." Desire outstrips satisfaction. Desire or longing is a driv- 393 67.4 2008 Clark * Revisiting Hope ing force in our lives. It can show itself as aching pain or as hope. As Christians we deal with the future by choosing to believe that life, not death, is the ultimate reality. We choose to turn continuously to our God in hope. That hope rests on the conviction that we are free and thus we have real control over our future. We can turn from where we are to what we want to be. Hope is confidence in God's power to do all things. Hope is the "nevertheless" of faith. In spite of every contradiction, we believe in the divine life within us and that God will bring it to completion if we but persevere in trust. We believe God will preserve and guide the church. Sometimes believing those things is difficult. That is why we must again and again ask the Lord to strengthen our hope. Hope might well be described as the dynamic force of faith and love. Because we are pilgrims, because we. do not see God and do not yet share God's love defini-tively, our faith and our love need to be permeated with hope. We know we cannot attain final fulfillment on earth. We know equally well how decisive our life on earth is in regard to final fulfillment. It is through hope that we press on. Hope offers a vision beyond the inevitable difficul-ties of our human condition, beyond human suffering and even death. It is hope that enables us to choose life, even in a deathlike situation. In hope we trust God can bring life out of death. Sooner or later virtually every-one has to face a deathlike situation in which they are challenged to choose life. It is a deathlike situation to be forced (in fear) to enter long-term nursing care. It looks like the end of the road, the gateway to death. From a purely human Revie~ for Religious point of view, there seems nothing to look forward to except the loss of privacy and freedom, humiliating dependence, chronic pain, and loneliness. To many it appears worse than death. How do people find the courage to carry on in such a situation except through hope? Persons with severe disabilities, persons who have undergone some crushing loss or misfortune, how can they find the courage to go on except through hope? Obviously the hope in question is not a form of escapism or wishful thinking. Rather it is the kind of hope that the Catechism calls a "theo-logical virtue." That terminology is helpful, emphasizing two charac- .teristics our hope should have. By saying it is a virtue, we are saying it is a well-intentioned, stable aspiration. By saying "theological" we are saying it is directed toward God and is a gift from God. Christian hope is not based on self-confidence. Self-confidence is fragile even in a purely human sense. A combat pilot in World War II put it this way in his book God Is My Co-Pilot: "Those who knew no strength except their own to lean on soon found that fear can sabotage even the strongest hea~'t." As Christians, the fulfillment we hope for is pure gift. It is not something we deserve because of our own talents, or efforts, or merits. Nor should hope be confused with optimism. Hope and optimism are quite different. Optimism often distorts reality, making it look better than it is. Hope is the assur-ance of God's fidelity even in the most troubled times. Hope means surrendering everything into God's hands. Christian hope is not based on self-confidence. 67.4 2008 It is not unusual for people to lose hope, to become disillusioned, even bitter, when years of hard work bear no apparent fruit, when little of a desired change is accomplished. Such temptations can surface in any life when one's efforts and prayers seem to be without result. We may be tempted to confuse unseen results with waste, utter waste. That is a mistake. Real faith and hope pro-vide the remedy for that temptation and that mistake. For whatever reason, hope seems to be a some-what neglected virtue. In the Christian tradition we find much more emphasis on faith and charity than on hope. Simply consider the output of books and articles, whether in academic theology or in popularization. Hope also seems an underdeveloped virtue. One finds people whose faith is firm who nevertheless experience considerable fear and anxiety. In his book The God 1 Don't Believe ln, Juan Arias tells of a conversation he had with the great Dominican theologian Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange. The conversation took place toward the end of Garrigou's life. He is quoted as say-ing: "How difficult is hope! I feel I shall soon reach my God. I cannot deny that my faith and my charity have been purified and that they are virtues which I possess in peace, but hope is my torment." Scripture scholars tell us it is often difficult to dis-tinguish faith and hope in the Bible. One reason sug-gested for' this is that the original Hebrew text uses the same root word for both ideas. Thus there seems to be a scriptural basis for saying that hope is not something apart from faith. Bernard H~iring calls hope "the inter-nal dynamism of faith." Faith is more than intellectual assent to a body of propositions. The fullness of faith is the gift of one's whole being to God as Truth itself. The biblical con- Review for Religious cept of faith includes trust in the Lord, who is faith-ful, who pledged to remain with us, who gave us that hope-inspiring message recorded by John: "Do not let your heart be troubled. Trust in God and trust in me. There are many mansions in my Father's house; if there were not I should have told you. I am going to prepare a place for you, and after I have gone and prepared you a place, I shall return to take you with me; so that where I am you also may be" (Jn 14:1-4). In the Bible, faith is understood as a joyous, grateful acceptance of the One who is our savior and our hope. In the Epistle to the Hebrews, there is a close con-nection between faith and hope. "Faith is the confident assurance concerning things we hope for and conviction about things we do not see" (Heb 11:1-2). Scripture scholars tell us this is not a formal definition of faith. In any case, the passage gives us a good insight into the dynamic nature of faith. It suggests how hope is implied in faith. We think of hope as a reaching beyond. Faith is depicted here as enabling us to reach beyond ourselves and our own powers in a double sense. The first part of the passage, "Faith is confident assurance concerning things we hope for," represents reaching beyond our-selves into the future. It concerns what is not yet pres-ent but is confidendy awaited. The second part, "Faith is. conviction about things we do not see," represents reaching beyond ourselves to grasp a present reality that is unknown except through faith. Together these two dimensions describe essential characteristics of Christian existence. First, Christian existence is marked by the assurance that the goods promised by God will be ours. Second, Christian existence is marked by the conviction that the past and present facts on which that assurance is based are indeed facts and not illusion. 67.4 2008 Clark * Revisiting Hope The assent of faith is a surrender to God reveal-ing himself and his kingdom to us, a surrender based ultimately on the testimony of the Spirit, not on the strength of any argument. Faith gives assurance to our hopes because God does not reveal abstract, philosophi-cal ideas, but trust-inspiring truths of salvation, or, better, God reveals himself as a lov-ing Father. To put it another way, by faith we not only believe in God but we also believe that God believes in us. Typically we focus on the first part of that statement. Most people, if asked what ° they mean by faith, would answer with a simple formula such as "It means belief in God." We fail to appreciate the implications of the second part of the statement, that God believes in us. This latter idea is the basis of our hope. Saying God believes in me means he knows I am capable, of being totally fulfilled. It means I have such a capability because God has so willed it. This is possible because God's faith in me does not depend on me, on my goodness. That faith in me comes from the fact that God first loved me. That love is the foundation of my goodness and my value. As Fulton Sheen used to say, "God does not love us because we are good. We are good because God loves us." God's love is unshakable. God loves us without the possibility of regret or reversal. The Bible constantly reminds us of God's initiative. It tells us over and over again of God's loving invitation to us, that he does not regret his work, that his friendship is everlasting. It is By faith we.not only believe in God but we also believe ¯ that God believes in us. 398 Re~iew for Religious not easy to believe in this faith God has in us. It is not easy to sustain the hope that belief implies. So we often minimize God's generous love. We hesitate to believe that God believes fully in us. Only too often do we have to face our limitations and our brokenness. In spite of that, God seems to be telling us: "I know everything about you but I still believe in you." In Isaiah we read: "The mountains may depart, and the hills be shaken, but my love for you will never leave you, and my covenant of peace with you will never be shaken, says Yahweh" (Is 54:10). God does that in spite of our infidelities, our sins. "Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool" (Is 1:18). We can trust completely in God's faithfulness even though it is beyond our ability to measure. According to our narrow standards, even a mother can lose faith in her child. But God never loses faith in us: "Does a woman forget the baby at her breast, or fail to cherish the son of her womb? Yet even if these forget, I will never forget you. See, I have branded you on the palm of my hands" (Is 49:15-16). Even if we deliberately turn away from God, God continues to believe in us. He goes on believing in our capacity to return. Like the father of the prodigal son, he will go out every morning and evening to wait for us with open arms. When he sees us returning, he will run to meet us and prepare a feast for us. There is not one text in the Bible mentioning sin and judgment without some reference to the hope to which God calls us. This conviction that God believes in us, this hope, is obviously important in our spiritual life. It also has great witness value. Traditi6nally we have been encouraged to witness to our faith by the way we lead our lives. In 399 67.4 2008 Cl~rk * Revisiting Hope 400 today's world it is vital also to witness to our hope. In our shrunken world we are constantly made aware of the problems, the suffering, the evil that exists in virtu-ally every corner of the world. That led Louis Evely to say, "Hopelessness gnaws at our era." We are called to witness to the meaning of Christian hope. We need to show by our lives how our hope gives us strength and courage to face the difficulties and problems that inevitably come into our lives, to show, as Isaiah says, "Those who hope in Yahweh renew their strength, they put out wings like eagles. They run and do not grow weary, walk and never tire" (I~ 40:31). It is important to bear that witness. In Lumen gen-tium the council fathers urged Christians not to hide their hope in the recesses of their hearts, but to bying it to bear on the external structures of daily life. Pierre Teilhard de Chardin was fond of saying, "The world belongs to those who offer it the greatest hope." Christian hope is a gift, a gift of peace, but also a deci-sion. Christian hope means that in and through Christ we can courageously face sin and evil in the world and in our own lives. Hope frees us from the need to predict the future and allows us to live in the present with the deep trust that God will never leave us, but rather will fulfill the deepest desires of our heart. It is important to realize that Christian hope is not a form of escapism or wishful thinking. It is a Christian virtue, not a purely human virtue. No one naturally hopes for victory in the face of helplessness or defeat. In his Letter to the Romans, St. Paul utters a triumphant cry of hope: "Condemnation will never come to those who are in Christ Jesus, because the law of the Spirit which gives life in Christ Jesus has set you free from the law of sin and death" (Rm 8:1-2). Paul's hope arises Revie~ for Religlous out of his personal experience of the inward struggle and anguish that characterize the human situation (Rm 7:14-23). He ends that description with a desperate cry: "What a wretched man am I? Who can free me from this body under the power of death?" And Paul answers: "God--thanks be to him--through Jesus Christ our Lord" (Rm 7:24-25). What distinguishes Christian hope is that it arises in the very face of human helplessness and defeat and is anchored in Jesus Christ. The Epistle to the Hebrews says: "This is the anchor our souls have, reaching inside the curtain, where Jesus has entered as a forerunner on our behalf, having become a high priest forever of the order of Melchizedek" (Heb 6:20). This does not mean we are to leave the present world as it is and simply wait for God to make it new. History reveals that the Christians who did the most for the world in which they lived were precisely those who thought most of the next. We need to look not only at what we hope for but also at what we are doing when we are hoping. Hoping implies looking ahead, but it is not just envisioning something we do not yet possess. The experience of hope includes three things: desire, we want what we hope for; belief, we believe what we hope for is indeed possible; doubt, we fear what we hope for may not hap-pen. Those are the elements of human hoping. Hope, as a Christian virtue, is something different, something more. The difference lies in the third element. Christian hope does not include doubt. Christian hoping is not just believing in the possible. It is a conviction about what is sure. Christian hope is the gift of certainty that what God has promised will surely be ours. St. Paul calls it a "hope that never disappoints" (Rm 5:5); in 401 67.4 2008 Cl~rk * Revisiting Hope Christian hoping comes only as a gift of grace. 402 Hebrews it is called "a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul" (Heb 6:20). Christian hoping comes only as a gift of grace. It is rooted in faith, which is itself a gift. Our faith and our hope are not based on history. A natural reading of history surely does not provide us encouragement to hope. In fact, that reading of history suggests that noth-ing will ever change radically for the better. That reading of history provides no model of people living together in mutual respect and universal love. In fact we see just the opposite. The human appe-tite for violence is enormous. A cynic would say history shows that people love killing each other. Almost three thousand years ago Homer wrote in the Iliad: "Men grow tired of sleep, love, singing, and dancing sooner than war." One need look no further than the last cen-tury for ample evidence supporting that view. But there is another history, the history of God's definitive intervention in our world in the person of Jesus Christ. Our faith and our hope are based on that intervention, on God's word--his word in Scripture and his incarnate Word. In his second letter, St. Peter tells us: "What we are waifng for, relying on his promises, is the new heaven and the new earth, where uprightness will be at home" (2 P 3:13). Old Testament prophets have spoken of "swords beaten into ploughshares and spears into pruning hooks" (Mi 4:3); "lions sleeping alongside lambs, the poor given justice, the weak raised to strength, and no hurt or harm done on all God's holy mountain" (Is 11:6;9). Preaching to the Jews, Paul said: Review for Religious "To keep his promise God raised up for Israel one of David's descendants, Jesus, as savior" (Ac 13:23). Hope is a challenging virtue. There are times when our hopes seem to be in vain. Hoping for, if not an end, at least a lessening of suffering and evil in the world seems almost a futile effort. And, from time to time in our personal lives, we are disappointed in our hopes. Often we may feel we have only enough spiri-tual bread in our basket for one day, and we are fearful about tomorrow and all the tomorrows to come. But we do not live in those tomorrows. We have no guarantee there will even be a tomorrow for us. In any case, just as the past is history and should not preoccupy us, so the future is mystery and should not preoccupy us. There is a difference between living for the future and living in the future. The former is done in the present; the latter alienates us from our real life. Among the ancient Christian symbols in the Roman catacombs, there is one which depicts an anchor with two small fish attached to the points of the anchor. The symbolism is clear. We Christians are the small fish attached to the anchor of our hope, Jesus Christ. God offers us the fullness of hope in Jesus Christ. Christ, as the fulfillment of God's saving love, is our hope. Christ is the great visible sign of God's fidelity and love for all men and women. Christ is our hope as victor over all the negatives of life, over the disappointments and frustrations, over anguish and pain, over sin, and even over death. "In the power of the Holy Spirit, may you be rich in hope" (Rm 15:13). 403 67.4 2008 HEDWIG LEWIS Becoming All Fire: Thoughts on Religious Identity Abba Lot, one of the Desert Fathers,. on a visit to Abba Joseph, confided: "Abba, when I am able, I recite a short office, I fast a little, I pray, I medi-tate, I stay recollected. As far as I can, I try to keep my thought pure. What else should I do?" Abba Joseph rose to his feet and stretched out his hands to heaven. Suddenly his fingers became like ten lamps alight. He turned to Abba Lot, eyes sparkling, and whispered, "If you will, become all fire." 404 A young Jesuit, in one of his regular sessions with his spiritual director, asked searchingly: "What is it to be a Jesuit today?" The older Jesuit grabbed a hard-copy of the Decrees of General Congregation 35 (GC35) that lay beside his compute.r, raised it aloft, and said, emphasizing every phrase: "To be a Jesuit today is to be 'a man on fire.'" Many a mystic has written about the "spark of the divine" in every human heart. Divine Providence graces each Of us with potential to turn that spark into a blaze. Hedwig Lewis SJ, th~ author of several professional and psycho-spiritual books, reside~ at St. Xavier's College; P.B. 4168; Ahmedabad 380 009; Gujarat, India. His website is http://joygift.tripod.com. Review for Religious We can let it burn so fiercely that everything around catches fire, spreading far and wide, destroying despair and detestation, creating space for hope and harmony. Hearts Inflamed Fire has often been used to express diverse emotions we experience: purification and passion, comfort and control, devotion and devastation. "Becoming all fire" would mean controlling these conflicting tensions and living life to the full--hearts on fire with Love. And Love then spreads out, setting other hearts afire. All religious are called to be on fire with Love and to let Love shine forth through their good works, in keeping with their charisms, so as to bring glory to God and spread the joy of the kingdom. The Jesuits recently rekindled their own fire. Over a period of about two years before GC35 (held in the first months of 2008), they met in their provinces and came up with suggested topics for discussion, which were sent to Rome. These were scrutinized and presented to the delegates of GC35, who zeroed in on six themes and drafted them into decrees. These were promulgated in early June. Decree 2, titled "'A Fire that Kindles More Fires': Rediscovering Our Charism," defines Jesuit iden-tity today. It responds to questions like: What does it mean to be a Jesuit in a globalized world? What mean-ing and message do Jesuit life and identity bring to people of diverse identities? Drawing inspiration from this decree, I offer here some reflections on what it means to be % man on fire" in the Society of Jesus. I hope this article will serve as a source of enlightenment to Jesuits, to those who share the Ignatian constitutions, and to other men and women religious, and will help them to be "persons on fire." 405 67.4 200g Lewis ¯ Becoming.41l Fire: Tbougbts on Religious Identity The Enkindling Spirit Religious founders have been "men and women on fire," and members of all religious orders and congrega-tions today can tell stories of how they originated as a spark that enkindled other sparks and became a flame. A torch was handed from generation to generation. The first Jesuits "began a narrative, they lit a fire.''t GC35 beautifully summarizes this tradition in the opening paragraph of Decree 2: The Society of Jesus has carried a flame for nearly five hundred years through innumerable social and cul-tural circumstances that have challenged it intensely to keep that flame alive and burning: Things are no different today. In a world that overwhelms people with a multiplicity of sensations, ideas, and images, the Society seeks to keep the fire of its original inspi-ration alive in a way that offers warmth and light to our contemporaries. It does this by telling a story that has stood the test of time, despite the imperfec-tions of its members and even of the whole body, because of the continued goodness of God, who has never allowed the fire to die. (§1) When we read the histories of other religious communi-ties, we find them echoing these sentiments. The story of the Society of Jesus begins with St. Ignatius Loyola. The very name Ignatius suggests fire. Ignatius faced not only cannon fire but also the ecclesi-astical canons that almost had him burned at the stake. His spiritual journey as a "pilgrim" takes a defini-tive turn after his "sublime illumination" at the River Cardoner in Manresa (§5). He set myriad hearts on fire with the love of God, sharing his spiritual experiences through "conversations" and his "school of prayer," the Spiritual Exercises. He enlightened a few enthu-siastic men on the ways of God, forming a group that Review f~r Religious would share his vision of spreading Christ's kingdom. As the Eucharistic Preface of his feastday liturgy states, Ignatius provided the church "with a society of apostles on fire with [God's] love." A letter that Ignatius wrote in 1546 reflects his fiery spirit. A certain Friar Barberan in Spain had publicly expressed a wish that all Jesuits from Perpignan to Seville should be burned at the stake. Ignatius, in Rome, heard of the outburst and wrote to a friend, "Please tell Father Barberan from me that I wish him and all his friends and acquaintances, not only between Perpignan and Seville, but throughout the whole world, to be set on fire and burned up by the Holy Spirit, so that they may all attain to great per-fection and signalize them-selves gready, to the glory of his Divine Majesty." St. Francis Xavier, the pioneer apostle of the Society, ventured beyond physical and socioreligious frontiers "to set the world on fire." Through five centuries to the present, Jesuits have been inflamed with the same spirit and have followed the blazing trails of their predeces-sors and created new paths (§25;.Decree 1, §6). As "men on fire," charged by the Ignatian magis, Jesuits are urged to spread the fire of God's love even in the darkest parts of the world's civilizations (§22). They must gather people around and warm their hearts, listen attentively to their varied stories, encourage them to dance in harmony with their different melodies, and thus "give them meaning and provide focus in a frag-mented world" (§1). The Jesuit vision is to re-create a divine milieu by manifesting "a strong sense of the The very name Ignatius suggests fire. 407 67.4 2008 Lewis ¯ Becoming All Fire: Thoughts on Religious Identity sacred inseparably joined to active involvement in the world. Our deep love of God and our passion for his world should set us on fire--a fire that starts other fires! For ultimately there is no reality that is only profane for those who know how to look" (§ 10). Hopefully GC35's decrees will bring to reality the prophecy of the Jesuit visionary Pierre Teilhard de Chardin: "Someday, after we have mastered the winds, the waves, and gravity, we shall harness for God ener-gies of love. Then for the second time in the history of the world we will have discovered fire." 408 Persons on Fire The "new" fire that GC35 has lighted engulfs the "spirit" of the Jesuit identity as spelled out in the pre-ceding three general congregations. To be a Jesuit today is to be "a man on fire." The fire at the heart of a Jesuit's identity and mission is Jesus Christ (§2). The "man on fire" is an alter Cbristus, for Christ is his con-stant companion (§3). The "man on fire" lets his light shine through good works for the greater glory of God (§22). He enkindles other hearts with the Love that burns within him, for that was Christ's deepest yearn-ing: "I have come to cast fire on earth!" (see §21). From an Ignatian perspective, it is a "fire" that con-sumes and cleanses, for the Jesuit is "a sinner, yet called to be a companion of Jesus." It is a fire that cannot be contained, for the Jesuit is "a man for and with others." It is a fire that urges the Jesuit, a "servant of Christ's mission" (§7), to the edges of society (§24) in the ser-vice of faith and the propagation of justice (both human and environmental) (§7, §24; Decree 1, §6). The fire is kept ablaze by the Jesuit living out generously the Ignatian "polarities": "being and doing, contemplation Review for Religious and action, prayer and prophetic living, being com-pletely united with Christ and completely inserted into the world with him, as an apostolic body" (§9). Our near-contemporary St. Alberto Hurtado (of Chile, 1901-1952) was "a fire that enkindles other fires" (§25). He established the nonprofit organization Hogar de Cristo (the Hearth of Christ) to aid the homeless. It provides both shelter and human warmth for body and soul. Hurtado not only enkindled these unfortu-nate people, but wanted his experience with them to intensify the fire in his own being. He made this conviction abundantly clear: "Love them in order to make them live, that a more human life may develop in them, unlocking their intel-ligence, putting an end to their backwardness. May the errors anchored in their hearts prick me continuously. May I be tor-mented by the lies and illusions used to intoxicate and enrapture them; may the mate-rialistic press that pretends to enlighten them irritate me; may their prejudices stimulate me to show them the truth. And this is nothing more than the translation of the verb 'to love.' I have placed them in my heart so they may live as people in the light, and the light is none other than Christ himself, the true light that enlightens everyone who comes into the world. All the light of natural reason is really the light of Christ; all knowledge, all human science. Christ is the supreme science. ,2 Father Pedro Arrupe SJ was described in 1952 as "a man on fire" by a seventeen-year-old student in Madrid, The "man on fire" is an alter Christus, for Christ is his constant companion. 409 67.4 2008 Lewis * Becoming All Fire: Thoughts on Religious Identity Adolfo Nicol~is.3 Like Hurtado, Arrupe had sheltered the hapless victims of the atomic bomb at Hiroshima. Given his training in medicine, Arrupe ministered to those suffering from severe burns. His experience would inflame his own heart with greater compassion and love - - for the suffer- ,~ ing. Later, as the Jesuits' superior general, he would open centers for refugees (see Decree 1, §6). Arrupe's is also a good example of how "men and women on fire" foster religious vocations: they walk their talk and talk their walk in the service of the Lord. Arrupe's lecture on his experiences at Hiroshima had rekindled in young Nicol~s's heart the burning desire to become a Jesuit. Nicolas would later follow the great missionary to Japan and eventually succeed him as supe-rior general in Rome. The Jesuit "man on fire" must realize that "the Jesuit identity is relational." He shares in the life of a com-munity, each member drawing its fire from the same source: Christ. Together as "friends in the Lord," they bear witness to the Light. A glowing community life, one that is intensive and joyful, attracts people, "inviting them--above all the young--to 'come and see,' to join us in our vocation and to serve with us in Christ's mis-sion. Nothing could be more desirable and more urgent today, since the heart of Christ burns with love for this world, with all its troubles, and seek~ companions who can serve it with him" (§ 19). The Jesuit "man on fire" must realize that "the Jesuit identity is relational. Review for Religious Playing with Fire Jesuits are also, by choice, "firemen" in Christ's brigade. The "demons" of this age are on a rampage, spreading on earth the fires of the underworld through irreligion, injustice, and consumerism (see §21). As firemen in Christ's brigade, Jesuits have been called to unflagging commitment to Christ and his mission of extinguishing the fires that defile human dignity and ravage natural resources. The Jesuit fireman plays with fire and becomes vul-nerable to the "inferno" he has to confront. It often means getting burned by rampant injustice or religious fanaticism. He comes under fire when he ventures beyond the frontiers--as is evident in the long list of Jesuit martyrs for social justice in recent times. Yet he remains committed regardless of thorns, threats, and thrashings and moves ahead fearlessly under the banner of the cross (§11; Decree 1, §9). The pathway is not always bright. There are periods in the Jesuit fireman's life when the fire within him burns low, threatened by storms inside or out, or the path is hidden in thick smoke. He experiences, in short, the challenge of the cross--where "the Divinity is hidden." The light flickers or fades in the struggle, and doubts and anxieties oppress. The time may compare with what mystics have described as the "dark night of the soul." "The experience of a hidden God cannot always be avoided, but even in the depths of darkness the transforming light .of God is able to shine" (§7). The "man on fire" must not lose hope, but seek and find that "light" so as to rekindle his fire. After the example of Jesus our companion, whose "entire life was a kenosis," he must feel supported and continue on his mission (§ 14). 411 67.4 2008 Lewis * Becoming/Ill Fire: Thoughts on Religious Identity While GC3 5 was in session, every Jesuit community around the globe kept a small lamp lit in the chapel as a symbol of oneness and solidarity, uniqueness and unity. Every Jesuit, in his own God-given way, must more than anything else be "a man on fire." And then, merging his flame with the flames of other religious "men and women on fire," together with "all persons of goodwill" (§21), he must set the world ablaze. Notes ~ GC35, Decree 2, §2. The texts of all the decrees are available at www.sjweb.info. Paragraph numbers of this decree will be given in the body of the article thus: (§2). 2 Albert Hurtado, personal reflection written in November 1947, quoted in "Saint Hurtado's Christocentric Mindset" by Hedwig Lewis sJ, Ignis 2005, no. 4, Gujarat Sahitya Prakash, Anand, India. 3 Adolfo Nicolfis sJ, "Eight Encounters with Father Pedro Arrupe," Province Express, Australia, 14 November 2007. 412 A Birthing On my way to Damascus I was tripped by Grace, and fell Into the hands of Love. My brain lay scrambled And pride lay wounded I felt blinded. Deep within my labored soul Faith gave its birth cry. Paulson V. Veliyannoor CMF Review for Religious A. PAUL DOMINIC A Source for Prayer Undreamt Of God speaks first in one way, and then in another, but no one notices. He speaks by dreams, and visions that come in the night, when slumber comes on mankind, and men are all asleep in bed. Then it is he whispers in the ear of man, or may frighten him with fearful sights, to turn him from evil-doing, and make an end of his pride; to save his soul from the pit and his life from the pathway to Sheol. (Jb 33:14-18; JB) If it is true that God speaks to us in dreams, what fol-lows? Or what should we do? We should speak in turn. Or we should at least desire to do so and try. Speaking to God in dreams as God does to us in dreams is not normally at our command. However, whether we dare speak to God after we have dreamt depends on us: it is definitely within our power. Such speaking to God is prayer indeed. Prayer linked with dreams may start in dreams and end in them or continue after them, or it A. Paul Dominic sJ last wrote for us in our 66.4 (2007) issue. His address is Human Development Centre; Port Mourant, Corentyne; Guyana (South America). 413 67.4 2008 Dominic ¯ A Source for Prayer Undreamt Of 414 may begin only outside them, drawing inspiration from them. Both kinds could be learned, though for now my interest is in the second,~ which is simpler: it is prayer following the dreams. The literature on prayer has been mosdy on how to pray rather than on what to pray. Is it worthwhile to con-sider the manner and matter of prayer separately? In any case, being persuaded myself that more deserves to be said about what to pray about, I would like to deal with the hardly dreamt-of topic broached above. To state it explicidy, whatever you dream at night can well serve as food for your prayer. I believe that something sensible can be said about dreams as source material for our praying. The idea proposed here is really part of what Christians generally use in their meditative or contem-plative prayer, namely, the Bible.2 They use the whole Bible, even if not every page and even though they most often use Gospel passages.3 Even in the Gospels, some paragraphs may seldom be considered prayer-worthy. It is a rare person who will pray over the genealogy of Jesus given at the beginning of Matthew. Still, the Bible in all its multiplicity and variety serves Jewish and Christian prayer. I think this is true of the bibli-cal passages about dreams, albeit they are not noticed much.4 Biblical dreams are found here and there in both Testaments. For many, they could prove to be a new wellspring of prayer. God Active in the Unconscious A

Issue 62.3 of the Review for Religious, 2003. ; Holiness Religious Life Saintly Mentoring QUARTERLY 62.3 2003 . to God's Universal call tO ,holiness that flow from tbe~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. ©2003 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. for religious LIVING OUR CATHOLIC LEGACIES Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Adviso~7 Board David L. Fleming SJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Adrian Gaudin SC Sr. Raymond Marie Gerard FSP Eugene Hensell OSB Ernest E. Larkin OCarm Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla sJ Miriam D. Ukeritis csJ QUARTERLY 62.3 2003 contents 230 holiness Be Holy as God Is Holy George A. Maloney SJ reflects on the holiness of God and our own holiness from the evidences of Scripture. 239 Praying with the Body: Not Running Ahead of Grace Rende Nienaber SND describes a number of ways to enter into prayer by involving our bodies. 251 religious life Prophetic Voice in Religious Life Elizabeth A. Dreyer reflects on two aspects of being a prophet--being an agent of change and living a contemplative existence--and issues a challenge to religious life. Review for Religious 269 Charism: Is Marketing Needed? Nihal Abeyasingha CSSR proposes a refinement in a religious congregation's method of research into its charism by examining its own continuing pastoral care and pastoral sensitivity in relation to the founder's. 287 John of the Cross's Message for Today Ernest E. Lark.in OCarm indicates how contemporary forms of contemplative prayer--centering prayer, Christian Meditation, and the Jesus Prayer--fit into John of the Cross's teaching on contemplation. 301 Catherine McAuley's Reliance on Providence Mary Judith O'Brien RSM examines the life of Catherine McAuley, foundress of the Sisters of Mercy, as an example of one who surrenders her whole being in trust to God. epar r en s 228 Prisms 316 Canonical Counsel: Effects of Departure 324 Book Reviews 62.3 2003 prisms A great gift of the four constitu-tions of the Second Vatican Council--on the church (Lumen gentium), on divine revelation (Dei verbum), on the sacred liturgy (Sacrosanctum concilium), and on the church in the modern world (Gaudium et spes)--is their readability and their applicability. The matters treated in them can continue to enhance our Catholic life. Whereas the Council of Trent in the 16th cen-tury was needed to put the church's own house in order (the Catholic reformation), Vatican Council II in the 20th century, identified as a pastoral council, looked to revitalizing our faith practice and our mis-sionary effort (Catholic renewal) as we became more fully engaged in the world we live in. We might describe Vatican II as addressing the problem of a distance many Catholics felt from a God in heaven, from Jesus Christ in their awed reverence toward the Blessed Sacrament, from the church in its authority, and from our world itself (b~cause it was "out there"). The church, too, often seemed "out there," embodied in pastors and bishops and encycli-cals that were not exactly us. Vatican II reminded Catholics that they belonged, that baptism made them "the people of God," with rights and responsibilities in the church. God's word in the Bible had sometimes seemed only a Protestant thing, or a Latin thing that priests preached about in English. Catholics were often more touched and uplifted by holy hours honoring the Sacred Heart and evening devotions in honor of Our Lady of Perpetual Help than they were by Mass and the various sacraments. The Mass in Latin had a Revie~ for Religious certain majesty and mystery within our small or large churches, but people attended at a distance, often deliberately towards the rear. Though we in the United States did not generally feel excluded or constrained in our parishes, when we now look back we see ourselves as having lived and learned our faith in a kind of ghetto outside the mainstream of our country. The four constitutions and the decrees of Vatican II changed our ways of thinking and acting. They called on all of us to take responsibility not only for our own adult faith lives, but also for the talent and improvement we can bring to national cultures and values and international ones as well. All our lives long we are being continually formed by the word of God and by God's providence in the events of our lives. In this way we come to know Jesus Christ better, as our Lord and Savior and also as our friend in the joys and difficulties of our lives. Baptized into Jesus' life, death, and resurrection and thus into his priesthood too, we share, with the ordained leadership of our bishops, priests, and deacons, in celebrating the Eucharist and the other sacraments. Our church looks on our world with neither fear nor disdain, but seeks to be involved hopefully and helpfully in its happiness and sorrows. Yes, Vatican II has increased the participation of many in all things Catholic. Now recent Roman documents dealing with liturgy, Eucharist, and devotions like the rosary have been issu-ing a call, recalling for us our human need of reverence in deal-ing with God and the things of God. Family love and friendship, yes, but overfamiliarity has less place in the family of God than in ordinary families. We are being reminded that, as well-loved creatures, we still need awe and reverence towards our Creator, and even towards the people in our lives, nearby and on the other side of the world. We are being called to the Trinitarian roots of our Catholic spirituality--a grand unity in an unfath-omable tension. In our relation to God and one another, we yearn to give and receive loving reverence, reverent love. David L. Fleming SJ 62.3 2003 holiness GEORGE A. MALONEY Be Holy as God Is Holy St. Paul, writing to the Ephesians, teaches these new Christians the essence of God's calling in Christ Jesus: Before the world was made, he chose us in Christ to be holy and spotless and to live through love in his pres-ence, determining that we should become his adopted children through Jesus Christ for his own kind pur-poses. (Ep 1:4-5) In all of the Old and New Testaments, we will not find any words to express, as the words holi-ness and holy do, the mystery of the perfection in the Trinitarian community of love and the mys-tery of God's will revealed through Jesus Christ: "to be holy and spodess and to live through love in his presence." It is sad that many Christians have never had a true scriptural meaning of holi-ness and what it means for us to be holy. George A. Ma]oney SJ last wrote for us in May-June 2002. His address is Contemplative Ministries; 13338 Del Monte Drive, #3-K; Seal Beach, California 90740. Revie~ for Religiou~ We need to ask God to show what holiness really means: his holiness first and then our own holiness. God's power can be seen and heard in nature, in lightning and thunder and rushing waters. But in describing God's holi-ness we are, in a way, trying to touch the "insideness" of God, the source of everything good and beautiful that we ever see or hear or feel. God's holiness is God in his per-fection as infinitely loving. Holiness is the totality of God's being moving outward as gift toward the other, toward human beings and angels. We read in the Book of Leviticus: For it is I, Yahweh, who am your God. You have been sanctified and have become holy because I am holy. Yes, it is I, Yahweh, who have brought you out of Egypt to be your God; you, therefore, must be holy because I am holy. (Lv 11:44-45) God Is Holy in Things and Places and Persons Moses fell back before the holiness of Yahweh in the burning bush. That was "holy ground" (Ex 3:4-6). God, who is holy, had chosen to be present to Moses in that place. No human hand was permitted to touch the Ark of the Covenant because God's holy presence was there. The Ark was kept in the Holy of Holies, a special place where God would communicate with his people. Yet, when for their sanctification God's holiness touches angels and human beings, he is present more perfectly to them. He enters upon a self-giving that allows us human beings to be sharers through love in his very own nature. This has always been God's purpose in creating us: "Be holy in all you do, since it is the Holy One who has called you. As ScripUare says: 'Be holy for I am holy'" (1 P 1:15-16). God calls us to receive his holiness and thereby to become holy too, opening ourselves to his outpouring 62.3 2003 Maloney ¯ Be Holy as God Is Holy We have no way of experiencing the fullness of God's holiness except in Jesus Christ. love, to his gift to us of himself and of our neighbor. We are called to be saints--holy people--sanctified by God's holiness (see Rm 1:7; 1 Co 1:2). "We have been called by God to be holy, not to be immoral" (1 Th 4:7). God chose us from the beginning to be holy by the sanctify-ing power of the Holy Spirit (2 Th 2:13) and to "become his adopted children through Jesus Christ" (Ep 1:5). Jesus is holy, and we too are called to be holy. We have no way of experiencing the fullness of God's holi-ness except in Jesus Christ. He teaches us about God's holiness, the actions of a loving Father concerned with all the details of our daily existence. Now we know what God's holiness is like. It is like the holi-ness of Jesus as recorded in the New Testament. Jesus' Holiness and His Growing Holiness The holiness of Jesus consisted first in his having been sanctified by the Holy Spirit. He was the gift of the Father through the Spirit. All that he had Jesus received from his Father. He could not act on his own, but only on what he received from his Father (Jn 5:19, 30; Jn 8:28). It is the Father who sent him into the world and consecrated him, making him holy in order to bring the holiness of God to the world (Jn 10:36). Jesus was sinless because he yielded to God's Holy Spirit within him and struggled against any urge toward self-centered independence (Heb 4:1). From the Synoptic Gospel accounts of Jesus' temptations, we realize, as essential to their meaning, that he had to struggle in his heart to reach the state of loving, humble submission to his Father that eventually would mean his ignominious Review for Religious death on the cross. Jesus would grow in holiness as he fought the Prince of Darkness for dominance, both in his own life and in the lives of those he healed of demonic possession. His struggle would end only on the cross, when he was lifted up and his adversary definitively thrown down from his throne and stripped of his power. From the New Testament we see that Jesus' increas-ing holiness is in accord with the Father's Spirit in him, giving him strength to unmask and defeat the devil. He seeks and confronts the evil one and conquers him. Jesus' Temptations The three temptations of Jesus in the desert empha-size his complete attachment to his Father. Jesus under-goes temptations--much like Eve's, the feminine side of all human beings--to seize the initiative in an aggres-siveness that would deny God's sovereignty over him. Jesus refused to feed himself with anything but God's word. "You must worship the Lord God, and serve him alone" (Dr 6:13, Lk 8). The Gospels present the peak of Jesus' holiness as an exodus experience. As he grew in holiness, he was tempted to hold on to his own life rather than surrender that life on behalf of sinful mankind. Imaging the Father's holiness in his own human development, Jesus grew in each event as he sought not his own but his Father's will. "Here I am! I am coming.to obey your will" (Heb 10:9). Jesus' holiness prompted him to a joyful response to do all that his human consciousness revealed to him as falling within the area of the Father's wish or even, more sensitively, what would please his Father more (Jn 8:29). Jesus suffers his most severe sense of abandonment on the cross when he cries out loudly to his Father: "My God, my God, why have you deserted me?" (Mk 15:34). In spite of his greatest temptation to doubt, in the seem-ing absence of the Father's loving approval, Jesus pushes 62.3 2003 Maloney ¯ Be Holy as God Is Holy himself to new depths of holiness and loving surrender. In such agony Jesus attains in his human condition the holiness of God. This is the crowning in human form of the Trinity's holiness, ultimate self-giving to mankind (through abandonment and death). Holy through the Holy Spirit Jesus at the Last Supper promised that he would pour out the holy and sanctifying Spirit after his death on the cross (Jn 14:16-21). If Jesus, by the Holy Spirit, is glo-rified by the Father and is able to bestow his sanctifying Spirit upon his believers through his final sufferings, it is no less also the Holy Spirit who effects the holiness of Jesus in the days and years of his earlier human development. We can see from the Gospel narrative of his baptism how Jesus, under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, was led further toward full holiness by John the Baptist in the Jordan. As Jesus came out of the water, he received a vision of the Spirit as a gentle dove and heard his Father declare from on high: "You are my Son, the Beloved; my favor rests on you" (Mk 1:11). Jesus in his humanity is swept up into an ecstatic oneness with the Father. Heaven and earth have been closed by Adam's first sin in the garden. Now God's communicating pres-ence has passed through the barrier of sin, and Jesus, God's holiness, stands within the human family. Brightness and darkness are brought together in Jesus. The presence and sanctifying action of the Holy Spirit in the life of Jesus begins with Jesus' physical exis-tence. If Paul could appeal to the Corinthians' inner dig-nity because their bodies were holy--"Your body, you know, is the temple of the Holy Spirit" (1 Co 6:19)- how much more was this a living experience of Jesus in his body! Jesus was the most free human being that ever existed because the Spirit in him linked him with the Review for Religious Father in myriad ways. Seeing his Father in the materi-ality of his body and in the physical world around him, Jesus enjoyed a serenity and contentment in being there with the Father. Sin sets up a physical, psychical, and spiritual "ner-vousness" in us because it hinders our seeing the loving presence of God in these connections. Instead, sin inclines us to exploit them, as is evident in our abuse of our appetites for food, drink, sex, material and intellec-tual possession, honor--in a word, our pride of life. Finding the Father in All of Creation Jesus was free to find the Father's providential presence in all events and circumstances inasmuch as Jesus was continuously the expressed Word of the Father. In his humanity Jesus had spe-cial gratitude and love by rea-son of his Father's gift to him of intimate friends. He praised God in the gentle love he had for his mother, Mary, for Joseph, John, Mary and Martha, Peter and Andrew, and his other apostles and followers. Yet the freedom brought to him by God's Spirit gave Jesus an inner austerity in all of his human relationships. They were not merely gifts for him to use happily in glorifying the Father; they were diaphanous places in which to find the Father's love and then reciprocate that love by serving everyone he encountered. We cannot understand Jesus in his personal poverty and his preference for the physically, psychically, and spiritually poor people to whom he went and brought healing unless we enter into the conscious relationship Jesus knew that his Father's love for all people everywhere included full awareness of their absolute poverty. 62.3 2003 Maloney ¯ Be Holy as God Is Holy that Jesus entered as the Father's Word on earth. Jesus knew that his Father's love for all people everywhere included full awareness of their absolute poverty. We human beings are radical and ontological nonentities except for God's love poured out in unselfish creation. God is absolute love because he is perfectly holy and self-giving. Jesus' Poverty and Service of Others Jesus lived poorly, by the inner richness of his Father's continued gif~ of himself to him. This poverty can be called humility. Jesus was nothing; the Father was all. Jesus was absolutely poor because no thing possessed him. He was possessed only by his Father, and so he saw created things only as external indications of the inner emptiness of human beings before the Allness of his Father. Jesus served others because that is love in action. He was expressing in human ways the love of God the Father for them. The Father's compassion for his children was the source of Jesus' compassion for them. Jesus burned with desire to actualize the Father's presence in the life of everyone he met (Lk 12:49). He went about doing good, especially by healing all types of sickness and dis-ease. He was never more the perfect image of the heav-enly Father than when he saw the multitudes scattering and fainting like sheep without a shepherd and was moved with mercy and compassion (Mt 9:36). Jesus' Prayer Jesus' holiness is shown also in his prayer life. The Gospels give us much teaching by Jesus on how to pray, but they also give us nuanced pictures of Jesus at prayer. He prays to his Father in the company of his disciples, but also alone. The Evangelists have grasped the intrin-sic relation of Jesus' prayer and his holiness. From their descriptions of Jesus in prayerful communion with his Review for Religious Father, we see that his prayer is always linked with the coming of God's kingdom. Jesus usually prays in solitude, away from his disci-ples, deeply immersed for long periods, even all night. He seeks the face of his Father in praise and thanksgiv-ing, in petitions that follow from his desire that God's kingdom come. In such prayer Jesus touches the holi-ness of the Father and is filled with a like holiness that lives to serve the Father, his Abba. The Holy Spirit fills him with this filial trust in the holiness of his Father, and thus, from his constant experience of the Spirit, Jesus teaches others to pray to the Father in the Spirit, con-vinced that they would be granted everything they needed for their total happiness as the Father's children. Living in the Holy of Holies In awe of God's holiness, we are not to strive to be holy by doing "holy" deeds or works of holiness as though God needs us and our sacrifice. Rather, we are to obey the divine Word, enfleshed for love of us to image for us God's holiness, and to let ourselves be directed by his Holy Spirit within us. To enter into God's holiness, the place to go is our heart. By Jesus' incarnate oneness with us, by his death and resurrection and the gift of his Spirit, we now have the right to approach with boldness "into the sanctuary" by the blood of Jesus, our high priest. We have been saved by Jesus' gift of himself on the cross. Humbled by God's holiness revealed in Jesus Christ, we are enabled to be continually and joyously transformed into holiness as we seek to live lives of Christlike holiness. We are God's work of art, created in Christ Jesus "to live the good life as from the begin-ning he meant us to live it" (Ep 2:10). Now we can more easily, and in greater depth, understand how God's holi-ness makes it possible for God to be merciful towards 237 62.3 2003 Maloney * Be Holy as God Is Holy us. In our relationship with God and with others, holi-ness and mercy can never be separated. Father, Son, and Spirit: Holiness and Love Jesus is holy as his Father is holy because, in his dying on our behalf in obedience to his loving Father, his love for God reaches love's peak. He is holy by being one with God's holiness. He becomes God's holy Word in his obedience unto death (Ph 2:8). As Jesus became holy by learning obedience, so we also must do: "Although he was Son, he learned to obey through suffering; but, having been made perfect, he became for all who obey him the source of eternal sal-vation and was acclaimed by God with the title of high priest of the order ofMelchizedek" (Heb 5:8-10). When affliction comes, we are not to be constantly asking whether we accept the inevitable and submit to a will we cannot resist. Our true, loving question must be: Do we choose the will of God to be our chief good--do we delight in Christ's life principle as ours too? "My delight is to do your will, O God." Jesus sanctified himself and us by doing his Father's will constantly, to his life's end. The will of God is also our sanctification. Be holy, as God--Father, Son, and Holy Spirit--is holy. Summer Transformation August rays insinuate themselves, burrow under epidermal sheath like God's grace, work their transforming till, ripened and marked as sun votary, you preach wordlessly the gospel of repentance for a pale and chilly life. Patricia Schnapp RSM Review for Religious RENI~E NIENABER Praying with the Body: Not Running Ahead of Grace (/~("~'~ on't run ahead of grace." This truth, learned from one of my greatest teachers of prayer, insists that we can find holiness only as God grants. Even though passive prayer has often been considered the higher path, people who are highly sensate might stay in active prayer much of their lives. St. John of the Cross warns against moving too quickly from active prayer. For many, cooperating with this wisdom can involve using our bodies in prayer. Respect for God's Gifts Rationales for prayer with the body can be found in Scripture, theology, and psychology. Respect for the body. We are not pure spirits. Many heresies would have us look with disdain upon the body as the source of temptation. Within this masterpiece, however, the Spirit of God dwells. According to the creeds we profess, our bodies will, like Jesus Christ's, be raised in glory. Fundamental knowledge of God came Ren~e Nienaber SND wrote about lectio divina in our January-February 2002 issue. Her address is St. Mary of the Assumption Parish; 121 West Main Street; Alexandria, Kentucky 41001. 62.3 2003 Nienaber ¯ Praying with the Body A through our parents' bodies: a mother's gentle breast-feeding and a father's strong cradling. In many ways we already pray with our bodies: genuflecting, bowing, taking holy water, telling our rosary beads, making the sign of the cross, receiving Communion in our hands. Great people in the Hebrew Scriptures used their bodies in prayer: Miriam praising God with the timbrel, Moses praying with arms outstretched, and David dancing before the ark. The psalms especially show a people entering bodily into prayer: seeking God's face (27:8), thirsting for God (63:1), panting with open mouth (119:131). They also show a God who deals with the bodies of people, literally or metaphorically: leading them beside still waters (23:2), setting them high on a rock (27:5), hiding them under solicitous wings (63:8), making divine words sweet to the taste (119:103). No disdain for the human body in this kind of prayer! Hebrew prayer shows great respect for the human body's goodness, not the disdain espoused by Docetism, Gnosticism, Platonism, and Neoplatonism. Respect for the unity of body/soul/spirit. Such respect stands against dualism and moves us towards integration. Each part of this threefold "companionship" affects the others. Eastern religions teach that what we do with our bodies affects our prayer (for example, sitting straight and breathing attentively). We will pray better or worse, depending on the involvement of our bodies. If this is true, then we cannot find God by escaping the body. Respect for the incarnation and resurrection. Both of these doctrines involve Christ's body. His humanity belongs to the essence of our faith. Jesus prayed with his body: lifting his eyes to heaven and blessing little children. We, like him, will not find God by rejecting the body. Respect for the g~'eat commandment. Based on the Shema of the Hebrew Scriptures, our call is to love God with our Review for Religious whole self, with all of who we are, not just from our eyebrows up. In daily life we show love through our bodies: gestures, gifts, smiles, and so forth. God invites us to do the same in prayer. Respect for ourselves as images of a creative God. Praying with the body helps us to be playful like children. Childlikeness can keep the juices of prayer flowing. With the Spirit's gifts of wonder and awe, a child/adult can be ever ready for the surprises of God in prayer, like finding a treasure in a field. Respect for praying "from where we're at." Catholics are sacramental people. In part this means experiencing God as coming to us through the stuff of this earth. Prayer that begins with the body can penetrate into the inner self. Like osmosis, the senses can lead us from the exterior to the interior, from the touchable to the untouchable: the transcendent reality of God. Thus prayer involving the body can be a bridge from active to passive prayer. These two forms walk hand in hand, not against each other. To pray "from where we're at" also involves praying from "God experiences." Created reality invites us to pray with our bodies, as in John Denver's song about Annie filling up his senses. How often have we praised God with our eyes for an orange-red sunset, with our mouth for our favorite chocolate dessert, with our nose for the evergreen freshness,. With our ears for the ocean roar. God is the original "surround sound." We can get lost in ecstasy through such continuing revelations of the divine. Our call is to love God with our whole self, with all of who we are, not just from our eyebrows up. 62.3 2003 Nienaber ¯ Praying with the B~dy Blessings of Body Prayer Besides these six forms of respect, prayer with the body can be an antidote to one of the main complaints about prayer: that it is boring. God wants our prayer to bring us life "to the full" (In 10:10). Prayer helps us dispose ourselves. God is the initiator of prayer and the responder to our desires. We can, however, prepare ourselves for the gift of prayer with our very bodies. For example, with our eyes we can gaze lovingly upon a crucifix, icon, or sunrise. With our hands we can touch bur heart or ears. With our mouth we can smile at God or whisper words of Scripture. Prayer helps us keep attentive. Too ubiquitous is the temptation not to pray because "I'm too distracted" or "Nothing happens." Involving our bodies in prayer can lessen those excuses because the pray-er remains grounded. For example, in praying about Jesus healing the woman with a hemorrhage, we can involve our body in such ways as these: coming before Jesus trembling and hopeful, reaching out to touch his garment, or pleading with our face for the gift of God's healing. Prayer helps us remember blessings. When prayer remains too cerebral, the pray-er can seldom recall the experience of God's grace. Involving the body can help the mind to focus rather than flounder. The experience of prayer is crystallized, thus becoming a memento of God's goodness. Forty Possibilities for Praying with the Body ¯ Hold a rock and remember examples of God's steadfast love. ¯ Hold a rock and consider how God might want to change your heart. ¯ Hold a pearl and feel how precious you are to God. ¯ Hold a pearl and consider how much God is your pearl of great price. ¯ Hold a pearl and be grateful for all the pearls in your life (people, experiences, events). ¯ Hold a pillow to your chest, trying Review for Religious to experience God or Jesus as a nursing mother for yourself, someone in special need, or even an enemy. ¯ Hold two coins tightly, like the widow's mite, representing what you do not want to let go of. When ready, release each coin. ¯ Hold a small seed (like a mustard seed) and ask for growth in faith, confidence, love, etc. ° Hold a seashell and ask to be more aware of God's dwelling in the deepest chamber of your heart. ¯ Hold an apple and know yourself to be the apple of God's eye. ¯ Hold a cactus and flower and ask God to bring life to your dryness. ¯ Hold a "lily of the field" and know how much more valuable you are to God than that. ° Hold a crucifix to feel the gift of Jesus' self-giving love. ¯ Walk slowly, aware that you journey lovingly with God, like Adam in the garden. ¯ Walk, aware that God is at your right hand, so you have nothing to fear. ¯ Walk, aware of the challenge to go the "extra mile" with God or another. ¯ Walk under the stars and moon. Delight in God's greatness and beauty. ¯ Walk slowly, just to restore your inner harmony. ° Sit in a rocking chair or porch swing, and allow yourself to be lulled by God. ¯ Sit with your shoes off, with reverence, like Moses before the burning bush. ¯ Sit near a tree whose roots are partly exposed. Touch the roots and the bark and know your groundedness in God. ¯ Squeeze modeling clay to get in touch with God's desire to fashion you further. ¯ Form modeling clay into some specific image God might be forming you into now. ¯ Form modeling clay into the image you would like to have of God. ° Dance your personal Magnificat or Gloria. ¯ Dance your own DayenuI after writing a list of people and experiences for which you are grateful. ¯ Whistle, skip, or show your delight with God in other ways. ¯ Inhale slowly, realizing that your breath is the very ruah of God flowing through you. ° Inhale what you need from God (peace, forgiveness, etc.). Exhale the opposite (unrest, 62.3 2003 Nienaber ¯ Praying with the Body unforgiveness, etc.). ¯ Inhale, letting God speak a word of love. Exhale, returning that word. ¯ Inhale, simply breathing in the goodness of God. ¯ Sit in the breeze. Let it blow through you as the Spirit wills. ¯ Sit in the breeze. Just let it surround you with God's gende presence. ¯ Sit in the breeze or in front of a fan. Feel Jesus breathing the Holy Spirit into you. ¯ Prostrate yourself to get in touch with your littleness, sinfulness, or need for God. ¯ Lie face up, as if paralyzed, accepting your need for God at every moment. ¯ Smile at God and feel God's smile in return. ¯ Look in a mirror and delight in the person God has created, is creating, and will continue to create. ¯ Tighten your fist in confidence against your enemies or fears. ¯ Cup your hands to your ears to emphasize a willingness to listen to God. Be attentive to a storm, and let the reality of God's power penetrate your being. More Suggestions, Involving the Easter Symbols Water ¯ Drink very slowly, using this mantra or a similar one: "Give me to drink." ¯ Sit by flowing waters or running water, and let the sound bring God's calm. ¯ Splash water on yourself to bring God's refreshment. ¯ Sprinkle water freely on your head to experience that God does not give the Spirit "by measure." ¯ Enter into a soft rain. Experience in it God's gentle, abundant presence. ¯ Let rain remind you that God sends "rain on the just and unjust." ¯ Be attentive to a storm, and let the reality of God's power penetrate your being. ¯ Pour water over your feet as if Jesus were ministering to you. White Garment ¯ Be aware of your clothes next to your skin; sense that God touches you even more intimately. ¯ Wrap your hands in strips of cloth, like Review for Religious Lazarus. Let God unbind you. ¯ Place a sheet or blanket over your head to feel your own overshadowing by the Holy Spirit. ¯ Place a sheet or blanket around your shoulders and body to feel the protection of God's "wings." ¯ Move with a blanket around your shoulders and feel that you, too, can fly on eagle's wings. ¯ Touch a bedspread tassel, like touching Jesus' garment, while praying for healing like the woman with the hemorrhage. Light/Fire ¯ Squint and let the rays of a candle penetrate your heart or mind with healing. ¯ Hold a candle near your body to feel the warmth of God within. ¯ Let a flame represent the Spirit of God. Ask for wisdom in a present confusion. ° Let the candle flame open your eyes to see the good in someone whom you do not like right now. ¯ Sit wordlessly before the sunrise or sunset, and use a mantra such as "Fill me with your light." ¯ Walk in midday. As you see the sun peeking through the trees, think of God as winking at you. ¯ Pray in the dark of night with only a vigil light. ¯ Pray one of the biblical stories of a blind person. Do this in the dark or with your eyes tighdy covered. Hands/Oil ¯ Hold your own hand to get in touch with God's strength, comfort, nearness, etc. ¯ Touch your heart or carotid artery. Let every pulse be a prayer of love to God. ¯ Touch with your hands or Bible the parts of your body that need healing (for example, eyes for being judgmental, mouth for talking about others, ears for listening to gossip, etc.). ¯ "Anoint" yourself with oil in areas that need healing. ° Rub in scented lotion to remind yourself that you are to be the aroma of Christ. ¯ Pour oil on your feet, representing the feet of someone you need to forgive. Bread/Wine ¯ Hold a piece of bread or loaf of bread, asking, "Give me (us) this bread always." ¯ Hold different kinds of bread. Break them and get in touch with your brokenness and that of others. ¯ Hold a loaf of bread and 62.3 2003 Nienaber ¯ Pra~in~ with the Bod~ know that God will not give you a stone if you ask for bread. ¯ Take a clear glass of water and add red food coloring, representing the change at Cana and in yourself. ¯ Sip wine very slowly, letting it rest in your mouth. "Taste and see the goodness of the Lord." ¯ Sit in a grape arbor to pray the passage of the vine and branches. Two Extended Examples of Praying with the Body Psalm 23. Giv~ yourself plenty of time to enter into this beloved psalm. A day could easily be spent on it. If possible, pray Psalm 23 out of doors. The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not want; I will never be in need; I lack notbing.--Try to feel how God has faithfully cared for you through people, events, and other blessings. I lie in green grass, verdant pastures, lush meadows.--If you can, lie down outside; otherwise, embrace the verdure in some physical way. For example, hug a leaf to your heart. Stand or sit, if possible, beneath the shade of a large tree. The shepherd leads me beside restful waters, peaceful streams, quiet pools.--If possible, go outside where you can be close to living waters. Otherwise, use a fountain or simply the faucet in your room. Spend time listening to the flow of the waters until you begin to feel calm. The shepherd refreshes my soul, revives my soul, restores my souL--To "help" the shepherd revive you, splash different parts of your body. The shepherd guides me in right paths, in paths of righteousness, in paths of virtue.--Walk slowly and mindfully, trying to feel the presence of the shepherd at your right hand. Even though I walk in a gloomy valley, a dark valley, the darkest valley . . . --Get in touch with any darkness in your life right now. Then close or cover your eyes and continue walking. With his rod and staff the shepherd gives me courage, Review for Religious comfort, security.--Use something to represent the "rod and staff" (like a broom handle or a walking stick). Walk, still in the darkness, with the safety of the walking stick. You could also sit with the handle against your back, trying to feel God's presence and comfort. You spread for me a table, a feast, a banquet.--Eat some of your favorite food. Yearn for the Eucharistic feast and the final banquet in God's reign. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows, runs over, brims oven--Use lotion to "anoint" your head, heart, gut, or any part of you that needs God's abundance. If you lack lotion, pour water on yourself, even on your head. Surely goodness and kindness, goodness and mercy, goodness and love, follow me always.--Con-clude as you began, getting in touch with God's abundance. This could involve returning to some significant ex-perience during this prayer, like listening to the water or pouring water on yourself. If you cannot fully accept this goodness that God promises, let God speak this verse to your heart. And I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever, for my whole life long, for as long as I live.--Again get in touch with the presence of the shepherd in your past. Know that the same shepherd has blessed your life with this psalm in the present. Be assured that you can depend on this faithful shepherd throughout your future. Amen! Walk slowly and mindfully, trying to feel the presence of the shepherd at your right hand. The Song of Songs might be the backdrop for an extended date with Jesus--at least a whole day, perhaps a whole week of retreat. The suggestions that follow are 62.3 2003 Nienaber ¯ Praying with the Body geared for an extended length of time. They are intended to give numerous supporting ideas to the text, not specific suggestions on how to pray the Song of Songs itself. The setting. Bring in some favorite flowers and food. Play special love music between prayer times. Burn a fragrant candle or some incense. Anoint yourself with precious lotion. Dress in your favorite clothes. Getting started. Ask that you heart might be ravished. Ask to grow in desire for God; ask to know God's desire for you. Pray while lying on your bed, porch swing, or chaise lounge. Put something under your head to represent the lover's left hand there. During the day. Take a walk "hand in hand" with your Beloved. Sing/dance favorite love songs from your era; let Jesus sing back to you. Draw a mandala2 to express your love. Spend time looking into the eyes of the beloved, while the beloved gazes back at you. Whisper your words of love. Smile to your beloved. Mantra. "You are my Beloved in whom I am well pleased." Experience this mantra in different ways. See it in the beauty of the flowers. Taste it in your special food or drink. Feel it in the warmth of a candle. Smell it in the scent of incense. Touch it in your favorite clothes. Hear it in the music you play or sing. Journaling. Write your favorite names for Jesus and/or his for you. Write your own figures of speech for your beloved; write his for you. Compose a love letter to Jesus. Meal ideas. When you eat, think of being brought into your beloved's banqueting table. Eat slowly and linger after the meal. Eucharistic connection. Ask that your heart may burn within you as Jesus reveals himself in the breaking of the bread. When you receive from the cup, realize that you are drinking the wine of divine love. Fast for an extended period before Eucharist in order to enter more fully into communion, hunger more for God's loving presence, Review for Religious taste the divine goodness, and experience God's abundance. Other Suggestions Some psalms are particularly conducive to body prayer: Psalms 16:5-11; 23; 27; 63:1-8; 91; 131; 139:1-18; 150. Among the best Isaiah readings for prayer with the body are Isaiah 35:1-6; 40:29-31; 43:1-4; 49:14-16; 55:1- 13; 66:10-14a. Other excellent sensate passages from the prophets include Jeremiah 17:7-8; 18:1-6; Ezekiel 36:26- 27; 37:1-14. A sampling of helpful gospel passages: Matthew 5:13- 16; 6:25-34; 7:1-12; 14:22-33; Mark 4:35-41; 5:25-34; 8:22-26; 10:46-52; Luke 1:26-38; 5:3-10; John 2-1-11; 4:7-15; 11:38-44; 13:2-17; 15:1-11; 20:11-18; 20:19-23. The ideas offered here can be useful for running with grace, not ahead of it. They are useful for sensates as well as for intuitives who are developing their sensate function. Depending on the person's disposition, physical condition, and prayer setting, some suggestions will work and others will not. Many ideas listed here, however, have blessed my directees and me for many years. I trust that others who are willing to follow their own creative childlikeness will experience God profoundly in'body prayer. Although the kairos3 of a retreat setting works best, any place or time can be an occasion for the self-revelation of God in our ordinary lives. For centuries St. Paul has called us to use our bodies "for the glory of God" (1 Co 6:20). In our contemporary setting, Tilden Edwards (from the Shalem Institute) says, "Amazing things happen when our bodies join our minds in opening to God." Notes ~ Dayenu is a song from the Jewish Passover service. In it the refrain "that would have been enough" is a response to the abundance of God's 62.3 2003 Nienaber ¯ Praying with the Body blessings (for example, "If you had just fed us with manna from the desert, that would have been enough"). 2 Mandala is a Sanskrit word meaning circle or center. It is an ancient symbol of wholeness. Making a mandala (a circular drawing) is a way to come into contact with deeper wisdom from the center within, the unconscious. 3 Kairos is a Greek word meaning the "right time," a time of opportunity. It can suggest fulfillment or the timelessness of eternity, where God's presence abounds. Piet~ Her head is slightly bowed, the gravity of love bending her to him, his death a weight more ponderous than stone. Her hand is stretched out, helpless to account for what the world has come to. What does that open, lifted hand convey? Does it implore the mercy of a hidden God, or beg to know the outcome of a plan incomprehensible to her? Does her hand commend her Son to us and plead for pity, for consideration of his innocence, for justice? I see that hand outstretched for us to take, reminded that her suffering is much like ours: in pain she, too,. is plunged in silence, brokenhearted as she contemplates the loss of all she loves. Kate Martin OSC Review for Religious ELIZABETH A. DREYER Prophetic Voice in Religious Life The desert fathers and mothers had a tradition of going to their abba or amma for a "word" of wisdom. When I was asked to give this 150th-anniversary address, the word prophecy came immediately to mind. Prophecy has been a constant of religious life. Women and men reli-gious, speaking prophetic words, have be-queathed the church and society a legacy of reform and renewal. My interest in prophecy emerged from my reflection on moral courage, which it seemed to me is in rather short supply these days--in society, in business, in education, in politics, and in the church. The road from moral courage to prophecy is not a long one. Who could have predicted even a year or two ago the church's current need of prophetic voices? Numbers of people have seen the prophetic call as central to the charism of Elizabeth A. Dreyer, professor in the Department of Religious Studies of Fairfield University, first presented this paper in September 2002 to inaugurate the 150th year of the Sisters of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin in Petersham, Massachusetts. Her address is Department of Religious Studies; Fairfield University; Fairfield, Connecticut 06430. 62.3 2003 Dreyer * Prophetic Voice in Religious Life religious life.1 Though everyone in the church is called to a prophetic life, institutes of vowed religious have had a distinctive and notable prophetic role down through the ages. It is a challenge to speak of prophecy, for prophecy means spealdng in the name of God. Being a prophet is akin to falling in love: you cannot decide to be a prophet. Nor can you declare that you are one or even be sure that someone else truly is one. The whole business is rife with the dangers of egotism. But there is also danger in refusing to accept the gift of prophecy, in not praying for the courage to be a prophet, and in neglecting to support those around us who are prophets. Timidity and self-protection stem from the knowledge--whether conscious and unconscious--that prophetic activity is dangerous to one's health. And yet the Christian life calls us to learn about and imitate the prophets who have gone before us and on whose shoulders we stand. Our Jewish heritage includes an impressive list of prophets: Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, Daniel, Hosea, Amos, Micah, and others. For Christians, John the Baptist, preparing the way for Jesus, is the prophetic model par excellence. But above all is Jesus, the Jew who fully embodied his tradition of prophetic compassion and courage, dying for his love of the outcast and the stranger, and confronting the religious status quo when it worked against the good of the people. More recently, interest in women's history has awakened us to the lives of prophetic women in the church. Historian Karen L. King notes that in every century women have exercised leadership in Christian communities and that their leadership has been contested. In the first centuries most of the clear cases of women's leadership "based their legitimacy on claims to prophetic experience," but Jo Ann McNamara suggests that, by the mid 3rd century, prophetic voices were overshadowed by Review for Religious clerical organization and leadership? At the Second Vatican Council, when Cardinal Suenens wanted to include in Lumen gentium a section on the share of every baptized person in Christ's prophetic office, Cardinal Ruffini argued that an emphasis on charism could endanger the institutional church.3 Happily today we look not only to John the Baptist and Paul but also to Mary, the mother of Jesus, Mary Magdalene, Phoebe, Priscilla, and Maximilla; martyrs Agatha, Lucy, Theodora, Perpetua and Felicity, and their 20th-century sisters Ita Ford, Maura Clarke, Jean Donovan, and Dorothy Kazel. Each community has its own list of prophetic figures. The Sisters of the Assumption have founding sisters Leocadie Bourgeois, Julie Heon, Mathilde Leduc, and Hedwige Buisson and later figures such as Alice Mignault and Marguerite Gauthier. More recent prophetic voices of women religious include Margaret Traxler (+2002), Theresa Kane, Mary Luke Tobin, Margaret Brennan, Anita Caspary, Mary Daniel Turner, and Joan Chittister. At this historical moment, how are we to think about the prophetic voice? What are its potentials and pitfalls? Endeavoring to be faithful to the gospel and God's reign on earth, how are we to support prophetic thinking and activity in the 21st century--for the health of each religious community, for religious life as a whole, for the church, society, and the world? As a laywoman I have been inspired by the prophetic lives of women religious. I have learned from your example, and I am privileged to stand with you and for you in your commitment to the life of the people of God. How are we to think about the prophetic voice? What are its potentials and pitfalls ? 62.3 2003 Dreyer * Prophetic Voice in Religious Life The Prophetic Vocation In an article on Hildegard of Bingen, Colman O'Dell describes the prophet's role as one of personal encounter.4 The prophet receives a special summons, an unforgettable experience that God has entrusted to her a message that she must reveal, either in words or by her very life. The prophet is one who yields herself to God as handmaid, witness, or sign. The summons can be to something dramatic and large scale or, for most of us, something ordinary and small scale, to be carried out over a long period of time. Thomas Merton describes the prophet as one who lives in direct submission to the Holy Spirit in order that, by her life, actions, and words, she may be a sign of God in the world. Jean Leclercq speaks of the prophet as a person of neither vague ideas nor ready-made solutions. Rather, prophets are the ones who by the vigor of their concepts and the intensity of their contemplation compel others to act, giving them worthy reason for doing so. Abraham Heschel describes the prophet as one who intensifies responsibility, who is impatient of excuse and contemptuous of pretense and self-pity, who is an exegete "of existence from a divine perspective." The prophet is one who is sensitive to evil and who feels fiercely,s In his classic 1978 work, The Prophetic Imagination, Walter Brueggemann sees prophecy as being concerned with change and how it comes about. The-prophetic task is to get people to have a perceptive consciousness that will stand against the dehumanizing and death-dealing aspects of our culture.6 Brueggemann describes the enemy of prophetic consciousness as Solomon's royal consciousness in which God's freedom is traded for God's accessibility, an economy of equality is traded for an economy of affluence, and a politics of justice is traded for a politics of oppression. The Solomonic regime silenced criticism through prohibition backed by heavy-handed sanction--or simply ignored it. In such a situation Revieva for Religious the gift of freedom is overtaken by a yearning for order and security.7 As Americans living in the aftermath of 9/11, we know well the seduction of royal consciousness. A prophet is one who understands language and its distinctive power to evoke newness--"fresh from the word.''8 Brueggemann speaks in terms of binary pairs of death and new life: numbness/criticism vs. energy/passion (compassion); death/cross vs. life/resurrection; grief/mourning vs. praise/joy. The prophet calls for an alternative consciousness and an alternative community. Forms of coercion and totalitarianism try to curtail fresh new possibilities and end up diminishing us as human beings. As a remedy, Brueggemann calls for a reappropriation of the biblical prophetic tradition to its full power and authenticity. The Hebrew prophets used poetry to present their vision and inspire listeners to respond. "It is the vocation of the prophet to keep alive the ministry of imagination, to keep on conjuring and proposing alternative futures to the single one the king wants to urge as the only thinkable one," Brueggemann says. He reminds us that worship and praise are ways to cut through ideology and recover compassion.9 Jo Ann McNamara concludes her massive treatment on the history of religious life with these words: "In the end, religious life is about worship and the positive benefits that worship brings to the world and its maker.''~° God is the creator of the world; we depend on God's loving compassion and power to make all things new. Praise of God is a wellspring of prophetic living. Discontinuity: Becoming Agents of Change In what follows I explore two particular elements of this prophetic way of living: discontinuity and contemplation. The prophetic voice interrupts "business as usual." It calls attention to, and says no to, the powers 62.3 2003 Dreyer ¯ Prophetic Voice in Religious Life The task of prophecy is to encourage people to be involved in the history of their time. of dehumanization wherever they may be. The prophet sees that the present arrangement need not always be so. This vision might apply to the way religious life is lived and structured, ways in which we think about and do ministry, ways that church structures and practice affect the people of God, ways we live as a society and as cifzens of the world. As I have said, the history of religious life reveals a steady stream of visionaries. One thinks of Jane Frances de Chantal, one of the first to question religious enclosure when it inhibited service in the world, and leaders of women's congregations in the mid 20th century who decided that education and worldly awareness would make sisters better teachers and better religious. Richarda Peters, Benedictine prioress in St. Joseph, Minnesota, from 1949 to 1961, encouraged her sisters to create study groups, earn academic degrees, update libraries, and subscribe to the New York Times. Her successor brought in television and encouraged the sisters to read Cardinal Suenens's The Nun in the World2~ The task of prgphecy is to encourage people to be involved in the history of their time. Brueggemann speaks about the visceral experience of waking up to the truth that things are not right. The light bulb goes on, and we wonder why we did not see that before. Pretending that things are fine is no longer an option. This awakening is often followed by feelings of disappointment, grief, and even betrayal. Bringing this hurt to public expression is an important step in dismantling the status quo and permitting a new reality, theological and social, to emerge.~2 Dorothee Soelle says that expressed complaint is the beginning of liberation.13 Review for Religious Prophetic agents of change live as if in a minefield. They may conjure up unwanted feelings of self-doubt: Who am I to demand and expect change? Most of us know that the risks are high. That prophets are not welcome in their own neighborhood is all too true. But, whether we ourselves are prophets or are attuned to those who are, the message can truly be "good news" to people. Even though the price is high, new vision energizes and creates new realities that can be trusted and relied upon. 14 Energy can even come from embracing the inscrutable darkness, trusting that something is on the move, even though I .may not see it.Is Waiting faithfully, with the anticipation of discovering a new way of being church, is prophetic activity. 16 We are also energized by the partisan nature of prophecy. Prophets do not function in the abstract, but always address persons in concrete historical situations. We become aware that God is free and acting for us in this moment, in this very community, in this geographic location. In the last thirty years, the extensive research on specific religious orders of women is gradually correcting past neglect, naming particular people and locations of prophetic activity in the history of religious life. 17 Looking at barriers to prophetic voice, Brueggemann examines the ways that satiation short-circuits passion. He reminds us that satiation--having too much and being full all the time--prevents our noticing that the king has no clothes. It dulls our capacity to be imaginative, caring, and passionate, to suffer, to live and die. We avoid facing up to failure; we shrink from the thought that there is an end to things as they have been. Consumerism tricks us into a false sense that "all is well." "The task of prophetic imagination," Brueggemann says, "is to cut through the numbness, to penetrate the self-deception, so that the God of endings is confessed as Lord." ~8 This is as true of the church as it is of society and the world. 62.3 2003 Dreyer ¯ Prophetic Voice in Religious Life The dehumanizing aspects of our consciousness and practice can be mitigated. They have no final claim on us. The despair created by the king leads to hopelessness, infecting those who are excluded and those who have everything. But prophets like Second Isaiah, attesting God's radical freedom, announce genuine novelty to exiled Israel: God could have a change of mind. Ironically, those who know this kind of prophetic dying most painfully are the very persons who can convey hope most vigorously. And, just as grief undoes numbness, amazement confounds despair. Amazement, says Brueggemann, is the ultimate energizer. With the prophet's help, Israel finds that singing is again possible. Song indicates new life. All of us can recall not being able to sing because of depression or anger, satiety or preoccupation--and then discovering that we could sing again. Thus hope is born, and whenever it happens we are amazed.19 Jesus, coming after John the Baptist, is also a prophet. He lives at the margins and interacts with other marginal people who respond with awe---~om the shepherds at the birth to the crowds pursuing him in Mark's Gospel. Jesus' compassion takes many forms: he is not afraid to criticize the old order, he is ready to heal and forgive, he invites people to freedom from their enslavements. Newness brea~ in because "Jesus had the capacity to give voice to the very hurt that had been muted." Suffering made audible and visible produces hope; articulated grief is the gate of newness. The history of Jesus is the history of entering into the pain and giving it voice.2° Standing at the decisive end of royal consciousness is the cross. The Way of Contemplation A second hallmark of prophetic voice is living a contemplative existence. Many theologians, including the well-known German Jesuit Karl Rahner, have made the Review for Religious plea that, if Christians are to survive into the future, they will have to become mystics in the world. I think our experience in the post-Vatican II church and in the postmodern world teaches us that mysticism and prophecy are not clashing symbols but interdependent requirements for gospel living. In antiquity, prophecy was considered a natural role for women, and in the early Corinthian community, for example, prophecy and prayer were closely linked.2~ Thus, we are not called to be mystics or activists but mystics and activists. Sandra Schneiders underlines this truth when she describes religious life as a prophetic life-form characterized by two linked realities--contemplative immediacy to God and social marginality. Indeed, she calls prophetic action the public face of mysticism.22 Genuine prophetic speech and action are grounded inholiness. Prophecy requires that one take time to attend to God's word. It demands singleness of purpose, what we used to call "purity of heart." It requires allowing oneself to be penetrated by the Spirit, thus gaining a certain freedom from external authorities. Authentic solitude and silent presence before God allow us to become "tuned in" to the ways of God and, out of this knowledge, to lament and speak a word of vision and hope to the church and to the poor. Genuine prayer helps us avoid making egregiously wrong projections in God's name, and this can be painful. To begin with, it is not easy to identify subde projections by which we make God into our own image, and when we do discover them it is difficult to let them go. Most of us are comfortable with the God we have experienced and imagined, but, unless we become freer to let God be God, we dare not venture into the world of prophetic utterance. God is the source and wellspring of prophetic life and mission, and only contemplation keeps us intimately attuned to God's voice.23 62.3 2003 Dreyer ¯ Prophetic Voice in Religious Life A hallmark of the mystical encounter is a sense of being at one with the world. This is an enjoyable experience and needs to be celebrated when it breaks into our consciousness. But often we do not allow this sense of cosmic unity to lead us to effective community living. How do epiphanies of connectedness lead us to prophetic voice on behalf of human community? The basic answer is that contemplative existence grounds prophetic activity. Generally, one doeg not speak a prophetic word out of the blue, even though prophetic speech has an element of spontaneity, like a "late-breaking news bulletin" from God. But, like a concert pianist's spontaneity and apparent effortlessness, prophecy depends on a life of paying attention to God in prayer. Genuine contemplation does not lead toward withdrawal or removal from the world, but just the opposite. The prophet is one who immerses herself in the joys and especially the sufferings of the world. Prophetic solidarity translates into acknowledging the truth of the present moment, however bleak it may seem. Prophets are "sent to participate humbly and fragilely in the darkness, to experience it as their own, but without losing heart." This faithful perseverance leads one to seek solutions and victory, but not to give up when failure is the outcome. Such a life requires both realism and deep spiritual reserves.24 The prophet identifies and gives voice to the sins of one's culture: consumerism, rampant individualism, fragmentation, and alienation. In her book Woman Strength: Modern Church, Modern Woman, Joan Chittister underlines the need for communal leadership against a rampantly individualistic culture. She calls for a spirituality of contemplative cocreation in which we look at the causes of social brokenness and begin to see the link between the personal and the political. "We need to intervene for one another," she says. "We need a new worldview that puts the old one 'in new light.'''25 Review for Religqous A simple way to enhance contemplation in the service of prophetic solidarity with the poor is to dwell within the words of the Hebrew prophets to see what they mean for us today. We begin by asking: Who were these people? What were the circumstances of their lives? What were their doubts and fears? How did they overcome them? How did they manage to love so much that they risked life and limb to speak the prophetic word? Abraham Heschel asks: "What gave them the strength to 'demythologize' precious certainties, to attack what was holy, to hurl blasphemies at priest and king, to stand up against all in the name of God?" He says they "must have been shattered by some cataclysmic experience in order to be able to shatter others." 26 In a 1997 article Brueggemann describes how the biblical text becomes newly available, how it can erupt into new usage and be seized upon to illuminate the present. This moment can be both personal and communal. He writes: "What has been tradition, hovering in dormancy, becomes available experience . In that utterance, the word does lead reality." In order for the prophetic word to remain ever new, someone has to have imagination and intuition and the courage to assert that texts from the past can and must be "concretely relocated in and specifically readdressed to contemporary contexts." Persons like this "permit the explosion of text whereby the world is transformed.''27 Meditating deeply on the following passages can lead us in such a direction. Listen, I groan under the burden of you, as a wagon creaks under a full load. (Am 2:13) You that turn justice upside down and bring righteousness to the ground, you that hate someone who brings the wrongdoer to court and loathe the one who speaks the whole truth: 62.3 2003 Dreyer ¯ Prophetic Voice in Reh~ious Life for all this, because you levy taxes on the poor. though you have built houses of hewn stone, you shall not live in them. (Am 5:7-11) Spare me the sound of your songs; I cannot endure the music of your lutes. Let justice roll like a river and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream." (Am 5:23-24) Come now, let us argue it out, says the Lord. Though your sins are scarlet, they may become white as snow; though they are dyed crimson, they may yet be like wool. (Is 1:18) The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light: Light has dawned upon them, dwellers in a land as dark as death. Thou hast increased their joy and given them great gladness; Hey rejoice in your presence as people rejoice at harvest. (Is 9:2-3) These and other prophets past and present inspire us to become more and more convinced that a "new word" and "new light" are possible in every age. We must be the ones to assume the responsibility to remind the church that no one has a corner on God's word and that we dare not put a period, where there should be a comma, when it comes to God's plan for creation. Prophetic voices are needed in a church that "disputes how women can image Christ; restricts rather than promotes women's preaching; rejects dialogue with feminist theology; refuses to discuss women's leadership roles in liturgical assemblies; takes Review for Religious punitive action against women's public speech on controversial issues; considers qualified women ineligible for administrative offices and prohibits gender-inclusive texts in its public prayer."~s The Madeleva Manifesto, issued in 2000 by a group of Catholic theologians, states: "To women in ministry and theological studies, we say: Reimagine what it means to be the whole body of Christ. The way things are now is not the design of God." Past and Future One aspect of celebrating and being grateful for the past involves cocking an eye toward the future. W'e ask how we can honor the memories, the dedication, the love and accomplishments of those who have gone before us. How do we extend their legacy into a new millennium? This is no easy task. The prophetic voice of women religious may be intended primarily for the church, but it extends to the wider faith and civic communities. There are many challenges in the American church, in religious life, and in our culture. But, amidst the plethora of problems, one thing remains clear: The prophet must be attuned to the cause of the poor and suffering and act on their behalf. This is the rock upon which we stand and which must weather the slings and arrows of both ecclesial and social existence. Words of support and challenge are in order. While all baptized Christians are called to find inspiration and truth in the message of the Bible, women religious are eminently equipped to do so. The Spirit must be allowed to empower and embolden you, to give you confidence to The prophet must be attuned to the cause of the poor and suffering and act on their behalf. 62.3 2003 Dreyer * Prophetic Voice in Religious Life interpret the signs of the times in light of the gospel and speak and act on this knowledge. Your lifestyle, your experience, your prayer, your dedication, your commitment to discernment, all this enables and propels you to live and speak and act in Christ's name. It benefits not only your communities, but also the church and the world. Your prophetic voices are needed. Confronting a sinful church begins in humility, in the awareness that the sin I protest resides firmly in the center of my own heart. The church has an ambiguous record on this front. She has always embraced the principle that reform must be a constant dynamic in the church, but has often shied away from embracing this truth in action. The renowned 20th-century theologian Paul Tillich noted that a major Protestant criticism of the Roman church is the "exclusion of the prophetic self-criticism" by an authoritarian system.29 Awareness of the beam in one's own eye prevents making condescending judgments about others. But we cannot stop there. We must love God and the world and the church enough to be willing to cry out against the arrogance, deceit, and secrecy that burden most heavily the poor, the oppressed, the person in the pew. The danger in a time such as ours is to get distracted and deflected from hearing the call to prophecy. It is appropriate to commission studies and to meet and talk about the alarming statistics on religious life--health, membership, age, finances. But these concerns cannot be allowed to turn you in on yourselves, instead of outward to the reform of the church and the alleviation of suffering in the world. And, while we may need time-outs to step back from the fray and regroup, we must not give in to the temptation to withdraw out of legitimate frustration and anger. We need to act as individuals and as a community, embracing the responsibility and the honor of being agents of new vision. We cannot leave it Review for Religious to clerical leaders or to those with stronger, louder, deeper voices. The church needs women religious to resist being co-opted by the clerical culture of power, privilege, and denial. We need you to protest tactics of intimidation and silencing. And we hope and pray that you will have the courage to withstand the suffering of not being welcome in your own country. The Spirit blows where it will (1 Co 12:8-11), and I find that it often blows in the lives of mature, dedicated women religious. We laypersons, who have so often been empowered by you, are called to join you in this much-needed prophetic ecclesial mission. The prophet speaks also to culture. As we move from despising and fleeing culture to a critical embrace of it, we cast a loving, compassionate, contemplative gaze on it and on all cultures. Because we stand within our culture, not outside it, we are both tainted by its sins and enriched by its creations and discoveries. In simplicity and courage we need to protest against arrogance, individualism, and consumer ways. By living and thinking on the margins, we must speak a word of love to the most desperate, despised, and forgotten among us. Since we cannot fight excessive individualism with more individualism, we are cailed to figure out how to act communally, to marshal our resources to witness to the Spirit's plan to make all things new. We are called to take a prophetic stance toward the rampant individualism of our culture by acknowledging our shared vulnerability, respecting and loving our differences and yet inviting others to dwell in community with us. Mary Grey pleads with us to "take the responsibility of becoming the kinds of communities which challenge society and live by a transforming ethic, communities which 'shine like stars' because they are offering the word of life." 30 She locates hope in the witness of the community as prophet. In the face of dwindling resources and aging, this kind of fidelity 62.3 2003 Dreyer ¯ Prophetic Voice in Religious Life to the mission, this showing up each and every day to do the Lord's work, is in itself a prophetic act of enormous value and goodness. The prophet is many things. To be open to and touched by this gift is to be honored with an invitation from God. It is also to be burdened with heavy responsibility, to be ripped open and rejected, scorned and ridiculed. For the point of the prophet's life is not primarily her own burdens, but those of a suffering world in desperate need of hope. The prophetic voice both disturbs and gives hope, and this requires keeping close touch with God's purifying presence, seeing oneself as lowly and humbly developing the skills of discernment and surrender. We are grateful for those who have gone before us, and we celebrate our membership in the communion of saints. We are linked by the desire arid the promise to be faithful to living a gospel life in each generation. The witness of our ancestors in the faith calls us to recommit ourselves to be Christians who dare to voice a prophetic word in our time, who dare to offer a word of hope from our experience that God is faithful, and who dare to hear and respond to the gospel invitation: "Come to me all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble of heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden light" (Mr 11:28-30). Notes ' See Sandra Schneiders [HM, Finding the Treasure: Locating Catholic Religious Life in a New Ecclesial and Cultural Context (New YorlotMahwah: Paulist Press, 2000) and Selling All: Commitment, Consecrated Celibacy, and Community in Catholic. Religious Life (New York/Mahwah: Paulist Press, 2001); Jo Ann Kay McNamara, Sisters in Arms: Catholic Nuns through Two Millennia (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1996); Nadine Foley, ed., ~ourney in Faith and Fidelity: Women Shaping Religious Life for a Renewed Church (New York: Continuum, 1999); Joan Chittister, The Fire in These Ashes: A Review for Religious Spirituality of Contemporary Religious Life (Kansas City: Sheed Ward, 1995) and Woman Strength: Modern Church, Modern Woman (London: Sheed and Ward, 1990); Barbara Fiand, Living the Vision: Religious Vows in an Age of Change (New York: Crossroad, 1990) and Wrestling with God: Religious Life in Search of Its Soul (New York: Crossroad, 1996). 2 Karen L. King, "Prophetic Power and Women's Authority: The Case of the Gospel of Mary [Magdalene]," in Women Preachers and Prophets through Two Millennia of Christianity (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1998), pp. 21 and 35. 3 See Mary Catherine Hilkert OP, Speaking with Authority: Catherine of Siena and the Voices of Women Today (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 2000, p. 43. Colman O'Dell, "Elizabeth of Schonau and Hildegard of Bingen; Prophets of the Lord," in Peace Weavers, ed. J.A. Nichols and L.T. Shank (Kalamazoo: Cistercian Publications, 1987), pp. 85-102. ~ Cited in Abraham Heschel, The Prophets: An Introduction (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1962), pp. 12ft. 6 Walter Brueggemann, The Prophetic Imagination (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1976), p. 13. 7 Brueggemann, Prophetic Imagination, pp. 36-37. 8 Brueggemann, Prophetic Imagination, pp. 9-10. 9 Brueggemann, Prophetic Imagination, pp. 45 and 26-27. 10McNamara, Sisters in Arms, p. 637. ~ See With Hearts Expanded: Transformation in the Lives of Benedictine Women, St. Joseph, Minnesota, 1957-2000 by Evin Rademacher, Emmanuel Renner, Olivia Forster, and Carol Berg (St. Cloud: North Star Press, 2002), cited in History of Women Religious News and Notes 15, no. 1 (February 2002): 4. ,2 Brueggemann, Prophetic Imagination, pp. 20-21. ,3 Dorothee Soelle, Suffering, trans. Everett R. Kalin (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1975), pp. 70-76. ,4 Brueggemann, Prophetic Imagination, p. 23. ,s See Constance FitzGerald, "Impasse and the Dark Night," in Women's Spirituality: Resources for Christian Development (2nd ed.), ed. Joann Wolski Conn (New York/Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1996), pp. 410- 435. 16 Mary C. Grey, "Prophecy and Mysticism: The Heart of the Postmodern Church," Scot-fish Journal of Theology (1997): 53. 17 Recent examples include Dominicans at Home in a Young Nation: 1786-1865 (Chicago: Project OPUS); Women of the Vale: Perthville Josephites 1872-1972 by Marie Crowley (Melbourne: Spectrum Publications, 2000); Beyond the Adobe Wall: 1852-1894 by Patricia Jean 62.3 2003 Dreyer ¯ Prophetic Voice in Religious Life Manion SL (Independence, Missouri: Two Trails Press, 2002); Barbara Misner, The Living Love of Christ among Us: The History of the Sisters of Mercy of the Holy Cross, 3 vols. (privately printed by the Sisters of Mercy of the Holy Cross, 1999). An excellent listing of new books on religious life can be found in History of Women Religious: News and Notes, ed. Karen M. Kennelly (2311 South Lindbergh Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63131). ,8 Brueggeman, Prophetic Imagination, pp. 47 and 49. ,9 Brueggeman, Prophetic Imagination, pp. 69, 70, and 79 20 Brueggeman, Prophetic Imagination, p. 88. 21 See Antoinette Wire, The Corinthian Women Prophets (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1993). 22 Schneiders, Finding the Treasure, pp. 137 and 150. 23 Schneiders, Finding the Treasure, p. 317. 24 Schneiders, Finding the Treasure, pp. 327 and 334-335. 2s Chittister, Woman Strength, pp. 69-70. z6 Heschel, Prophets, p. 12. 27 Walter Brueggemann, "Texts That Linger, Words That Explode," Theology Today 54, no. 2 (July 1997): 181 and 198. 2~ Hilkert, Speaking with Authority, pp. 2-3. 29 Paul Tillich, The Dynamics of Faith (New York: Harper,1957), p. 72. 30 Grey, "Prophecy and Mysticism," pp. 23 and 62. Sadness Today I embrace the air. The embodiment of heart and mind, .flesh and bone are gone. Too soon a (oraithlikefigure replaced reality l~aving only memories. Marcella LaKoske OP Review for Religious NIHAL ABEYASINGHA Charism: Is Marketing Needed? Ubnuti luenvdeer rs eslelsv eitns dfaibffreicr esnotf tneanmer etsh,r oouftgehno uwt iEthu rdoipf-e ferent bottles and different marketing strategies and sometimes even different formulas. Candy maker Mars no longer sells "Mars" bars in the United States; the same product is now called "Snickers Almond," and American "Milky Way" bars (same as ever) are sold in Europe as "Mars" bars. Such is the adaptability of mod-ern marketing. How, then, might one go about market-ing the productmor telling the story--of a religious institute's charismatic accomplishments and endeavors? This article argues that one needs to identify the project the founder launched (pastoral care) by identifying where his heart was (pastoral sensitivity). In particular, it deals with the Redemptorists, a congregation founded in 1732 and approved by the pope in 1749. Today's efforts to rediscover the charism of religious congregations often turn into an intellectual exercise-- doing meticulous historical research and then making the findings available to members through seminars, vis-its to places associated with the founder, and so forth. Nihal Abeyasingha CSSR writes again from the University of Kelaniya; 454/9 Piachaud Gardens; Kandy 20000; Sri Lanka. 1_9.KO~ 62.3 2003 But maybe a question asked by St. Bernard needs to be asked again: "What kind of concept could human beings have of God [in their mind] unless they first had an image of God in their heart?" This implies that people can have almost no idea of God in their mind until they first choose to love God through the image of him they find in their heart. Similarly, today's "bearers of the charism" need to examine whether their hearts are where their founder's heart was. I suggest that this would call for a refinement in the religious congregation's method of research into its charism. A Note on Method The historical method seeks to learn what the founders were thinking when they established their reli-gious institute. One arrives at the origins of that thought and traces its progress and completion. Whatever con-clusions are drawn are shown to have existed in some way in the founder's consciousness. That is a legitimate method of historical research. But, regarding a charism, I suggest that one is deal-ing with where the founder's heart was. The founder first has a commitment in his heart. It is only later that he emphasizes from the Christian memory and tradition what fits in with that commitment. The elements he highlights and puts together are never the total Christian vision. The founder in his insight is an artist, and a cri-terion of good artists is that they highlight some partic-ular thing in such a way that the "universal" shines forth more brightly. The founder did not first create a system of thought (a theory) and then fit his project into it. Rather, he first "fell in love" with the "project" in front of him. How? Why? Because he saw and experienced certain events in the world and their impact on his life as a Christian. He responded and witnessed to them. He invited others to join his project so that the witness could Review for Religious continue. I argue that the priority is the heart. The head follows, making sure that the heart ("Love is blind!") is not chasing after vanity. Rediscovering an historical fact or some perspective of a former era is a valid study in itself and a contribu-tion to knowledge, but, in matters of love and a tradition of love, the issues are different. One needs to keep alive today (in a world that has obviously changed) the story of a particular heartfelt response to events of a former era. Witnessing anew with-out changing the story is what is called for. The successive bearers of the charism do not have a different insight from the founder's. The present bearers of the charism have to love with the same insight. This is not primarily propositional truth or even a crys-tal- clear concept. This love produces a kind of feeling (or instinct or sixth sense) for the insight of the founder. It brings about a virtuous disposition such as "justness" (not justice) and "chasteness" (not chastity) bring to what is just and chaste. Ask any Redemptorist and he will tell you that the aim of the congregation is to preach the gospel to those who are pastorally "most abandoned" or most in need. That is propositional truth. After one or several of such groups are identified, ministry to them is made a prior-ity in each unit of the institute. But the crux of the mat-ter is what "insight" or "virtuous disposition" operates in regard to this target group. Is the agenda for action set by the target group where they actually are, in their iden-tity and reality as Christians, or from the textbooks of theology? In my opinion and that of several close asso- One needs to keep alive today the story of a particular heartfelt response to events of a former era. 62.3 2003 Abeyasingha * Charism ciates, there is something wanting in the textbook approach. It does not seem to have captured the imagi-nation either of the majority in the institute or of the people to whom its ministry is offered. So the question is: How does one identify the original insight, foster a love and feeling for that insight, and then put the "story" into practice in our own day? Alphonsus ahead of and behind His Time Alphonsus in some ways was ahead of his time. He anticipated, for example, the development of doctrine in the church and required the members of the institute to take a vow to defend the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin, before it was defined in 1854. But in some ways he was also falling behind, defending positions that do not have theological defend-ers today. Looking at matters in which Alphonsus fell behind may illustrate his "marketing" strategy. It came to me as something of a shock to read his refutation of a work of Dom Leoluca Rolli, a priest of Calabria, titled II Novello Progetto, o sia Dissertazione del buon uso delle Litanie, ed altre preghiere (The New Project, or Dissertation on the Good Use of the Litanies and Other Prayers).~ This was in 1775, and the Redemptorist congregation had been started in 1732. Mphonsus takes up basically three issues against Rolli: (1) the popular belief that house of the Mary was brought by angels to Loretto, (2) some titles used in regard to Mary in the Litany of Loretto, and (3) the singing or recitation of that litany before the Blessed Sacrament exposed. As regards the popular belief about the house of Loretto, Rolli considered it an account that runs like a fable. In his refutation Alphonsus refers to popes who said that the house was taken by the ministry of angels to Loretto. He goes on to say that the denial of this belief Review for Religious is common among Protestant authors, in contrast to Catholic authors. Obviously, in the view of the rational-ists of the time, the argument was weak. Today's theolo-gians would not set much store on Alphonsus's reasoning. Rolli thought the titles Tower of David, Tower of Ivory, and House of Gold used in the Litany of the Blessed Virgin were affectations, using words without adequate meaning. He thought that Mirror of .Justice, Refuge of Sinners, Morning Star, and Gate of Heaven were titles that should refer only to .Jesus. Alphonsus's refutation was simply that people in the church, including priests and religious, saw no problem with using this litany and that popes had approved it. He adds, "They are all [expres-sions] of piety and tenderness towards our holy queen, that we may trust the more in her protection." Rolli considered it an abuse to chant the Litany of the Blessed Virgin before the Blessed Sacrament exposed. Alphonsus admits that prayers should be directed to.Jesus our Savior, for he alone is absolutely necessary as a ~neans of salvation. But he goes on to say that others are nec-essary, not by a necessity of means, but by moral neces-sity, to help our confidence the more. "In this light, when we chant the Litany of the Blessed Virgin before the Blessed Sacrament exposed, Mary is asked to present our prayers to Jesus Christ.''2 The Sense of Alphonsus's Arguments Today the views of Rolli are commonly accepted. Should Alphonsus even at that time have seen some value in Rolli's opinions and conceded some probability to them? Why did he reject them without qualification? My short answer is that Alphonsus realized how impor-tant the Catholic sense of identity was at the time. He knew the importance of consciously "being different." His "pastoral care" was rooted in "pastoral sensitivity" for that sense of identity. 62.3 2003 Abeyasingba ~° Charism Priests, after spending years studying th6ology, tend to apply theological categories to pastoral situations with little sensitivity for the people's felt needs. Pastoral care involves sensitivity to the human situation, the sensitiv-ity of a shepherd leading his flock to pasture. That sen-sitivity raises questions. What instincts and heartfelt feelings of the people should he be careful not to offend, and why? What needs changing, and why? These are delicate questions. In the 18th century, the very things Rolli criticized were popularly held. Even the popes had reflected them in their writings. Rolli wanted to set those beliefs aside in the name of rationality. Alphonsus had a different con-cern. His stand was with the people, the majority. From that standpoint he would consider whether the "logic of reason" was a pastoral basis to eliminate those devotional titles and whether dropping them might leave a gap in the "logic of life." What would take their place? Would people feel at home in their faith without holding on to such devotional patterns? He concluded that eliminat-ing such popular piety would be pastorally harmful. I suggest that questions like these would have arisen as part of the "pastoral sensitivity" of Alphonsus. Such ques-tions are important today as well. In other words, peo-ple, their own perceived identity, and their felt needs--rather than the latest theological opinions-- should influence ministry agendas, especially the min-istries' points of insertion. In Alphonsus's day many people who were devoted to the traditional Litany of Loretto would have been unable to understand the principles of rationalism. Alphonsus probably understood them, or at least had the gifts of mind to understand them. The only ones at that time who rejected the traditional litany and even ridiculed it were Protestants. Alphonsus would have known that for him to reject such devotional formulations would be Review for Religious understood by many as encouraging, at least implicitly, some close rapport with Protestants. Alphonsus's view was that the people (including himself, a highly emo-tional Neapolitan) would not feel at home without the support (emotional and otherwise) of such devotions and prayers. That would confuse ordinary people. He had no adequate substitute to offer. It would have been like advocating email in Asia in the 1980s. Few Asians even knew of email's existence, and the infrastructure for it was not in place. In the 2000s the situation in Asia is dif-ferent. What Alphonsus hoped to achieve by his unquali-fied rejection of Rolli's ideas was a communication of truth (pastoral care) that would be attractive (pastoral sensitivity) to their sense of identity as individual believ-ers and as a community. He wanted to communicate, not pure speculative truth, but existential truth related to them as persons. Alphonsus wanted to touch ordinary people where they happened to be. To be touched in this way could turn out to be a moment of truth for peo-ple. Pastoral sensitivity finds a way to lead people to an encounter with truth. Truth has its way of cutting across the "lie" by which people sometimes try to live. The fol-lowing passage from a novel by Andrew Greeley explains what I mean. "Ellen's worst sin was against Ellen." Ellen is on her knees confessing to a priest named Kevin. Both of them have known each other for many years, and Kevin's family has assisted Ellen financially during a period of need. She says she has been away from the sacraments for ten years, and she lists her many sins. After she finishes, Kevin (who is the novel's narrator) speaks. "I'm still waiting for the real sin, the only sin," I said. 62.3 2003 Abeyasingba ¯ Charism She [Ellen] tilted her head. "I've told every-thing." "You haven't told the one important thing. You were mad at God and mad at the church and pretended for a long time you could get away from both." "I don't want to talk about it," she said. "Then no absolution," I said firmly. She tugged her hand to free it. I wasn't ¯ going to let it go. "Don't you have an ounce of compassion in that ice-cold soul of yours?" "If you want compassion, Ellen, go to your husband or have him recommend a psychia-trist who will listen sympathetically. If you want absolution, don't play games." She stopped tugging. We were quiet for a long time. "That's the only one that does matter, isn't it?" she said. "All right, Kevin, I'll say it, and you'll have to mop up the tears on this hard floor of yours. I blamed the church and God for things that were inside me and my family. I focused on all the ugly things and forgot about Father Conroy and Sister Caroline and first Communion and May crownings and High Club dances and midnight Mass and all those wonderful things that I love so much. I gave them all up because I was angry. I blamed the church for Tim's death. I loved him so much. I couldn't save him, and I thought the church should have saved him. Even when doing it, I knew I was wrong and that someday I'd be kneeling on the floor before you and pleading to be let back in." "And now you have done it," I said . She put her head against my knee and wept. Review for Religious Then she gathered herself together and said, "So Ellen's worst sin was against Ellen.-3 "Ellen's worst sin was against Ellen" is not humanism. A foundational element of Pope John Paul's teaching is that "man is the way of the church." But "man" must be understood in terms of the man, Jesus Christ. Salvation is when the individual lets Jesus Christ judge his life and values ("wanting absolu-tion"). Humanism is when people reformulate Jesus in their own image and like-ness ("playing games"). The former course is an expansion, an openness to the Infinite; the latter is a reduction of Jesus to the measure of one's own finiteness. The former is redemptive; the latter is ratio-nalization and self-justification: narcissism. I suggest that the former is where the charism of a religious institute is centered; the latter is what may be called "pastoral opportunism." Pastoral sensitivity varies according to differences in the charisms of various institutes. ¯ Playing Games or Wanting Absolution? "If you want compassion, go to your husband .I.f. you want absolution, don't play games." How true! How easily the two are confused! "Ellen's worst sin was against Ellen"--that is different. The enumeration of one's sins is an objective matter, but the moment of conversion is existential, the realization that "I have sinned. I will go back to my Father. That is¯ where I am at home; in fact, I have nowhere else to go" (see Lk 15:11-31). Human beings need saving. All creation shares in the salvation of the human. "Creation was made subject to futility, not of its own accord, but because of the one who subjected it in hope that creation itself would be set free from slav- 62.3 2003 Abeyasingba ¯ Charism ery to corruption and share in the glorious freedom of the children of God" (Rm 8:19-20). There is nothing wrong with compassion, but, in the perspective of absolution (existential salvation, redemp-tion today), there has to be more than compassion on the part of the pastor. The link between compassion and salvation is naming the game and discovering one's iden-tity in commitment and relationship to oneself, one's fellow human beings, and God. In the scene quoted above, Ellen has known Kevin for years and has experienced the generosity of his fam-ily. But as pastor he brings her to realize the injustice she is doing to herself. In that discovery and realization, she discovers the church community she has abandoned and God, who is present in that community. She sees that she is always welcome to the church and to the peo-ple and things she admits she loves: Father Conroy, Sister Caroline, May crownings, dances, and so forth. It is the entire mixture of ritual, imagery, and flesh-and-blood community that makes her feel at home. And yet we know that none of these are a hundred percent per-fect. Such is the church. What needs to be preserved for the individual in the church and for the church as a community is this feeling of being at home. In that setting people realize their true human and Christian identity. They do not blame the church and God "for things that were inside me and my family." Feeling at home does not mean complacency. To all--believers and unbelievers--the church must preach faith and conversion (see Sacrosanctum concilium, §9). Permitting people to "play games" and evade their call to conversion is not part of its mission. The Clarification of Pastoral Sensitivity Pastoral sensitivity varies according to differences in the charisms of various institutes. Is a given charism Review for Religious meant to function from the top down or from the bot-tom up? The top-down function is a way of exhibiting some transcendental value. Thus does a contemplative order bear witness to God's transcendence in any envi-ronment. In contrast, a charism that functions from the bottom up takes people where they are and leads them higher. Alphonsus's charism is certainly bottom-up. Redemptorist pastoral sensitivity, therefore, must be alert to where people actually are and concerned with them in their situation. The concrete situation determines the charism's "point of insertion" and the subsequent agenda. Does theology have a role in this agenda, and, if so, what is that role? First, it needs to be said that what unites the Christian community is faith, not theology. Pastoral care, first and foremost, contributes to growth in faith. Pastoral care is an art, discerning how faith func-tions in this person and this situation and then doing with skill whatever contributes to the growth of that faith. Theology, of course, does have a role in pastoral care. Years of formation in the science of theology provide principles for the art of pastoral care. Theology states and clarifies the goal of the Christian journey. Newman says: "Theology begins, as its name denotes, not with any sensible facts, phenomena, or results, not with nature at all, but with the Author of nature--with the one invis-ible, unapproachable Cause and Source of all things. It begins at the other end of knowledge, and is occupied, not with the finite, but the Infinite. It unfolds and sys-tematizes what he himself has told us of himself; of his nature, his attributes, his will, and his acts.''4 In this pro-cess of theology, logic is important, but, as Newman says, "logic does not really prove; it enables us to join issue with others; it suggests ideas; it opens views; it maps out for us the lines of thought; it verifies nega-tively; it determines when differences of opinions are 62.3 2003 Abeyasingha ¯ Charism Pastoral care is not a matter of saying and doing what pleases the majority. hopeless; and when and how far conclusions are proba-ble; but for genuine proof in concrete matter we require an organon more delicate, versatile, and elastic than ver-bal argumentation.''s Theology and pastoral care can enrich each other, but how does that work? In pastoral care the starting point is the finite: this individual, this situation. More than strict logic, there needs to be a "clinical sense." What "symptoms" does one perceive? Are there inter-connections? What is the diagnosis, and what treatments are possible? What treatment seems best? How is faith func-tioning here? What prin-ciples operate, however obscured they may be by seeming illogicality? Pas-toral care, in this perspective, is art and poetry. Artists have "insights" and then present them, using the best subject matter and materials and techniques known to them. In their presentations the artists and their glimpses and visions (all finite) that were the starting point rec-ognize themselves as called to grow towards the Infinite. What Rolli glimpsed in the Litany of Loretto were defects--they were indeed defects in the light of a the-ology influenced by rationalism. His solution was to eliminate them. The consequences of doing so were not his concern. I would suggest that Alphonsus's pastoral insight was that he saw how God operated and how pop-ular piety, defective though it was, was indeed express-ing faith in God. His pastoral sensitivity saw the danger of eliminating without substituting. He saw the possi-bility of initiating growth from "within." Pastoral care is not a matter of saying and doing what pleases the majority. That would be pastoral oppor- Review for Religious tunism. Pastoral care leads to an encounter with truth. Hence it is the pastor's function to uncover the truth that exists in what people do and then lead them beyond it. There is truth even in the fables, myths, and legends of popular piety. As Newman says, "fables are economies or accommodations, being truths and principles cast into that form in which they will be most vividly recognized; ¯. Again, mythical representations, at least in their bet-ter form, may be considered facts or narratives, untrue, but like the truth, intended to bring out the action of some principle, point of character, and the like. For instance, the tradition that St. Ignatius [of Antioch] was the child whom our Lord took in his arms, may be unfounded; but it realizes to us his special relation to Christ and his apostles, with a keenness peculiar to itself. The same remark may be made upon certain narratives of martyrdoms, or of the details of such narratives, or of certain alleged miracles, or heroic acts, or speeches, all of which are the spontaneous produce of religious feel-ing under imperfect knowledge. If the alleged facts did not occur, they ought to have occurred (if I may so speak); they are such as might have occurred, and would have occurred, under circumstances . Many a theory or view of things, on which an institution is founded, or a party held together, is of the same kind.''6 Acknowledging Identity in Affirmation of Difference At no point does Alphonsus say that the truth of the fables of popular piety are truths of faith or that they are the core of Christian faith. Alphonsus was clear in his own theological principles. He asserted that Jesus is the only mediator necessary by necessity of means¯ But he also knew that, in actual day-to-day living, people accepted other mediators as well, and so he speaks of them as a moral necessity. In the sphere of religion, Maryi_9.tLl__ 62.3 2003 Abeyasingba ¯ Charism is a secondary mediator. That was the situation--as it stood with its imperfect and accommodated knowledge. As pastor he would present a picture of Mary and the saints as mediators on a different level from Jesus. He would insist that her primary function is to lead us to Jesus. On a secondary level she helps us in our imperfect situation by presenting our prayers to Jesus, increasing our confidence, and so forth. Alphonsus recognized that Catholic identity at that time included being different from Protestants and ratio-nalists. At that time Catholics honored Mary in ways that could be assessed rationally as exaggerated and imperfect--and which brought on ridicule from Protestants and rationalists. To seem to condone their ridicule would lessen their identity (their "being differ-ent") and tantamount to joining them. It was part of Catholic identity, of feeling at home, to retain the devo-tion as it was traditionally practiced. Alphonsus therefore rejects the rational and theologically assimilable posi-tions of Rolli. (Today Rolli's views are part of the Catholic tradition and Catholic identity. It was not so in the 18th century, and could not have been.) Alphonsus had to deal with the theological doctrine that acts of devotion performed by one who was not in the state of grace did not avail for salvation. He could not deny this; it was the common doctrine. So he searched at the human level for the benefits of such devotion. He says (with Thomas Aquinas and Robert Bellarmine) that, although such acts of devotion do not in themselves jus-tify, they at least dispose sinners to obtain justification through the merits of Mary and the saints. He points out at least three possible benefits that could accrue to sinners from such devotion: making them accustomed to good works, obtaining for them temporal favors, and disposing them to receive grace. In other words, sinners who practice devotion to Mary have a better chance of Review for Religious cooperating with grace and being justified than sinners who do not have such devotion. Acknowledging Identity and Moving Forward For Alphonsus, acknowledging identity through dif-ference was the beginning, not the end, of pastoral care. He wished to lead people to deeper understanding of their faith, but always worked first on their hearts, their emotions. His Glories of Mary is a com-mentary on the "Hail Holy Queen," a prayer that ratio-nalists ridiculed. That prayer gave him a framework for his pastoral strategy. He was not merely justifying popular devotion to Mary, but also inserting elements that would help the pray-er grow in faith. As Alphonsus saw it, the prayer combined contrasts (queen/mother; life/banished children). It abounded with words that evoke intense emotion. The climax of the prayer is an accurate theological description of what Christian life is: "After this our exile, show unto us the blessed fruit of thy womb, Jesus." He makes Jesus the final goal of conversion. Until that goal is reached, even the slightest devotion to Mary, if carried through with perse-verance, gives the sinner hope. She becomes his patron, and exalted patronage was a well-known practice. In The Glories of Mary, Alphonsus takes the "Hail, Holy Queen" as it is and plays on the contrasts that are brought together in addressing Mary. "Queen" evokes power, while "mother" evokes love. Mary nurtures "life," even though our lives are precarious because of the ban-ishment caused by sin. These contrasts do not hold For Alphonsus, acknowledging identity through difference was the beginning, not the end, of pastoral care. 62.3 2003 Abeyasingba * Charism together in ordinary life. As sinners look to Mary as mother, affections of love, tenderness, and confidence are bound to override those of fear, dread, and punishment associated with "queen." Gradually people, especially the sinful and the desperate, would feel themselves more com-fortable and at home with the softer images (mother, life) rather than the harsher ones (power, banishment). His writing style is not pedantic; it is popular. He persuades, he encourages, he appeals. He repeats and exaggerates. He points out the benefits of simple acts (such as reciting a "Hail, Mary" every day) even for peo-ple who have not broken with their life of sin. He knows that the people he is writing for are an emotional peo-ple. He tries to bring reason to bear on their emotions. He does this by channeling their emotions towards two goals, sorrow and love. After reminding readers that God has done much by giving them Mary to be their mother, he asks what they have done. In various ways they have rejected her, and so they are called to sorrow and repen-tance and to expressing grateful love to God and to his mother, God's gift to them. The argument is not spec-ulative. It is an effort to have right reason (in the form of practical repentance and love) control any exagger-ated emotion in Marian devotion. Alphonsus provides a range of imagery drawn from people's ordinary life: Mary as midwife, shepherdess, and advocate. Such imagery is found even more in his poems, songs, and paintings. People could choose whatever image suited them, but, no matter what they chose, each image was mediatory, with Mary between the people and Jesus. Mary was the bridge. The Vatican's "Directory on Popular Piety and the Liturgy" (2002) treats devotion to Mary much as Alphonsus did.7 Alphonsus's expression is more laden with emotion. He wanted to lead people on a journey on which they would become attached to Christ in love. In "mar- Review for Religious keting" Alphonsus's insight, in bringing his Catholic charism to people of today, pastoral sensitivity needs to start where they are--start with what they consider their identity--and then, in the exercise of pastoral care, move them beyond it. This would be marketing, under a new and different label and brand name, the same product as Alphonsus "marketed" in his day. Is this "marketing" idea likely to convince the bearers of the Alphonsian charism today and to "work" for the people to whom their min-istry extends? A trial run may be worthwhile. I suggest that this approach is not altogether a "dream." A recent biography of Andrei Sakharov shows his journey from being a scientist who supported the Soviet system to being a spokesman for human rights.8 As a scientist he asked questions about physical nature and tested hypotheses, looking for reliable evidence. As a Russian he "believed that the Soviet state represented a breakthrough into the future." When he saw the deaths caused by the radioactive fallout from the tests he directed in 1955, he began to ask questions about politics the same way he had always asked questions about physical nature. This approach quickly made him a dissident. The rest of his life is too well known for repetition here. It was not a head-on attack on his ideology that changed him. The point of change was his own training, in which he was at home. At that point something new inserted itself: the deaths caused by his own experiments. This is a moral parable of change from within, somebne moving from the laboratory into action in the public arena, experiencing a martyrdom (witnessing and suffering), and "rising again." Can the charism of a religious institute function to effect change from within, meeting people where they are and progressing from there? Perhaps it can. That is the hope implied in being pastorally sensitive (to where people's hearts are) before striving to inculcate deeper and truer propositional knowledge. 62.3 2003 Abeyasingba ¯ Charism Notes ' Alphonsus Maria de Liguori, Breve rispbsta alla stravagante riforma intentata dall'abbate Rolli contraria alia piet~ dovuta verso la divina Madre (written in 1775). http:// 2 It is interesting that the Congregations for Divine Worship and the Sacraments, "Directory on Popular Piety and the Liturgy: Principles and Guidelines" (9 April 2002), §165, states that, in the adoration of the Blessed Sacrament, the faithful ought to be "encour-aged to use the Scriptures" and "suitable hymns and prayers" and spend some time in "silent prayer and reflection. Thus they will grad-ually get the idea that they ought not use devotional practices in honor of the Virgin Mary and the saints during exposition of the Blessed Sacrament. Given Mary's close relationship with Christ, however, the rosary, with its meditation on the mysteries of the incarnation and redemption, could help give the prayer a Christological orientation." Here I seem to detect that, although praying the rosary during ado-ration of the Blessed Sacrament is not rejected, neither is it considered the ideal. It seems to be considered an accommodation ("pastoral sen-sitivity") to where people are, with a view to leading them beyond it (with "pastoral care"). The burden of this article is to set the charism of an apostolically oriented religious institute in this perspective. 3 Andrew M. Greeley, The Cardinal Sins (New York: Warner Books, 1981), pp. 208-210. 4John Henry Newman, "Christianity and Physical Science," in The ldea of a University (Garden City: Doubleday Image, 1959), p. 395. s John Henry Newman, A Grammar of Assent (Garden City: Doubleday Image, 1955), chap. 8, p. 217. 6 John Henry Newman, "The Theory of Developments in Religious Doctrine" (Sermon XV, Preached on the Purification, 1843), in Newman's University Sermons: FiJ%en Sermons Preached before the University of Oxford, 1826-43 (London: SPCK, 1970), §35. 7 "Popular devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary is an important and universal ecclesial phenomenon. Its expressions are multifarious and its motivation is very profound, deriving as it does from the People of God's faith in, and love for, Christ the Redeemer of the human race and from an awareness of the salvific mission that God entrusted to Mary of Nazareth, because of which she is mother not only of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, but also of all people in the order of grace" (§183). 8 Richard Lourie, Sakbarov: A Biography (Hanover, New Hampshire: Brandeis University Press, 2002). Review for Religious ERNEST E. LARKIN John of the Cross's Message for Today The focus of St. John of the Cross is the call to contemplation. Vatican Council ~I left no doubt about the universal call to holiness; the clergy, the laity, and religious are all called to the same high degree of union with God. John of the Cross locates that perfection in contemplation. Vatican II emphasized life in this world. It called Christians out of the ghetto and into the mainstream of worldly existence. Lay people particularly were to work for the betterment of humanity through science, politics, education, economics, and the professions. Such work is part of the Christian vocation; moreover, for Christians the motivation and animation for doing the work is the same in the marketplace and the family as it is in the cloister. The source is a loving relationship with the Trinity. This is the holiness at the heart of every vocation. Call it love, call it contemplation--it is the same Ernest E. Larkin OCarm wrote "Desert Spirituality" for our JuDy-August 2002 issue. His address remains Kino Institute; 1224 East Northern; Phoenix, Arizona 85020. 62.3 2003 biblical reality of "knowing .you, the only true God, and him whom you have sent, Jesus Christ" (Jn 17:3) or, in another formulation, "knowing Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship in his sufferings" (Ph 3:10). It is loving knowledge, for contemplation is knowledge by way of love. It is what St. Th~r~se called her vocation, to be "love at the heart of the church." In the lapidary formula of St. Paul, contemplation is the excellence of "faith expressing itself through love" (Ga 5:6). Contemplative prayer and contemplation are no longer to be seen as the domain of an elitist group. People in all sectors of church life and lay life are claiming their birthright and practicing contemplative prayer every day. John of the Cross can be their guide. In this paper I want to indicate how contemporary forms of contemplative prayer, specifically centering prayer and Christian Meditation, and the Jesus Prayer, fit into John's synthesis. I will first present a sketch of his teaching on the beginnings of contemplation and then relate this doctrine to the contemporary movements. Contemplation, according to John of the Cross Faith as "the only proximate and proportionate means to union with God" runs like a mantra through the works of John of the Cross. Loving faith, shown in word and deed, is the only road to God. Every act of faith, however small, is a ray of light piercing the darkness in one's consciousness. It is the light of Christ shining through. By acts of faith we let Christ in, we allow the Spirit to form Christ in our very being. Of course, he is always there in the depths of our spirit, in "the innermost chamber of our inner castle, the unscathed center of our being, where only the true God dwells.''~ But he is dormant there until we awaken him through activated faith. Our individual, discrete acts of faith are like the dots of light on a television screen. Multiply them, and the Review for Religious screen is fully illuminated. The soul is like the television screen: on it the dots of faith coalesce to form the image of Christ, fulfilling the words of St. Paul: "I live now, no longer I, Christ lives in me." Thus are we configured to Christ. The rest of the quotation is equally important: "I still have my human life, but it is a life of faith in the Son of God" (Ga 2:20). Our faith life brings purity of heart, the condition for this configuration. We are pure of heart to the extent that we live by faith. Purity of heart is not just chastity; it is all the virtues ordered and integrated in our being, giving us an openness to the indwelling God. In early stages God meets us in our rational minds, in our disparate thoughts and image~ and will acts. These are so many actual graces. When purity of heart is more perfect, we enter more deeply into ourselves at the spirit level where God reveals himself in a certain wholeness--in contemplation. "Blessed are the pure of heart, they shall see God." "Seeing God" occurs in holy thoughts and desires and more fully in contemplation. The metaphor in John of the Cross that corresponds to the television screen is the window pane that lets in the sun. When the window is clean, the sun comes through without any obstruction: the sun and the glass are like one same thing (Ascent 2.5.6). This is a beautiful image of purity of heart, of the entry of God. When all our desires are ordered by faith, we are transparent to God's indwelling. At first God comes to us in images and concepts, facsimiles and metaphors. When the soul is truly pure, that is to say, when it is free and detached and faith-filled, God comes in contemplation as Gracious Mystery, in his inscrutable reality. Our response then is We are pure of heart to the extent that we live by faith. 62.3 2003 Larkin ¯ John of the Cross's Message for Today simply a yes to this gift, resting in the presence, experiencing communion. Communion (koinonia, communio) is being one with God by participation in a unitive, nondualistic experience. Contemplation is the experience of communion. The experience of contemplation is ineffable: it cannot be put into words. We can have feelings about God, and they are sensible consolations or spiritual affections. Feelings are resonances of the experience of God. They are moments of enthusiasm or dis-couragement, joy or sorrow. They are secondary and accidental to the basic contemplative experience of presence and communion, which is incommunicable. The contact with God is the original experience of the theological virtues, whereas the emotional or spiritual resonances are the overflow. Often we have no assurance that we are experiencing the presence of God in contemplation other than blind faith. Feelings are ambiguous and need to be discerned. The act of contemplation is a return to the subject, a turning back on one's self in faith and love. It is moving from the Christ for us, who is objective and out in front of us, so to speak, to the Christ within us, who has become one with us. Thus contemplation is resting in the fruit of one's labor and search; it is the fruition of one's new, transformed self. The whole process is "putting on the Lord Jesus Christ," which begins with one's desires, purifying old ones and developing new ones one by one, and ends in the contemplative act of communion, when two things become one in participatory knowledge and love. This is nondualistic thinking, like the advaita of Eastern religions. God and the soul are united in a oneness that is not pantheistic, but pan-en-theistic. Communion is the common denominator of all the modes of contemplation, whether ordinary or extraordinary, active or passive, acquired or infused. Review for Religious Communion grows gradually as we are transformed in God. The one obstacle to our experiencing our .oneness with God is our unredeemed self, which is our false self or egoic self. Specifically, this bad self is our disordered desires. They are our attachments, an innocuous word better translated in our idiom as addictions and illusions. These are the persons and things and mindsets that control us, distort our thinking, and move us in the wrong direction. We deal with them by the two-pronged attack of getting to know Jesus better (so as to perceive his attractiveness) and letting go of competitive desires. There are two principles here, knowing Jesus and letting go. They are the two directives set down in the strongest language by John of the Cross as the necessary and sufficient program for holiness (Ascent 1.13.3-4). The strategy is to work on habitual, deliberate failings one by one until God negates them all in one sweep by leading a person into the "dark night." At that time one loses the attraction and pleasure in anything other than God. In John of the Cross, the gift of initial infused contemplation is the cause of this state. The budding contemplative is counseled to stop discursive activity, embrace the emptiness, and be present in loving attention to God, who is "infusing" light and love. At first the experience is distressful, because one fears she has lost God and everything else. The infused light and love are too subtle to be recognized. The landmarks of the old spiritual journey are gone: God is no longer available, 6ne cannot pray in the old ways, the excitement of ministry goes dead, and there is a malaise about everything. The only positive quality is an ache for God, which is aggravated by the fear of having lost the Beloved. Eventually one becomes comfortable with this new way of relating to God, and peace and serenity replace the anxiety. 62.3 2003 Larkin ¯ John of the Cross's Message for Today The dark night in general is the whole spiritual journey from beginning to end. Thus in John of the Cross the ascetical efforts that begin the journey to divine union do not complete the task. The dark night is needed for that. Why? Because our devious human nature, one's false self, goes underground into the unconscious and blocks a person's surrender to God in disguised ways. Jungian psychology calls the buried false self the shadow. It is made up of the capital sins, like lust or pride; in pious people these weaknesses take on forms of pseudo-piety that are as destructive as the crass expressions. Centuries before Jung, John was an expert on uncovering the shadow or dark side of human nature. His teaching is that only God can heal the shadow at its roots. God does this, not by "fixing" it, much less removing it, but by helping us confront and accept it and then move on to total surrender to God. One of John's great contributions is this teaching on the dark night. The dark night in general is the whole spiritual journey from beginning to end; the dark night under consideration here is one phase of the purification process, and is called the passive dark night of the senses. The new knowledge and love that are pure gift from God at this point (and called in-fused contemPlation) reconfigure the spiritual life. Inner worldly goods all lose their appeal. One sees them in their truth, and in comparison with God (Ascent 1.4; 3.20.2), and so they recede into irrelevance. At the same time God is no longer available in the cozy relationship of the past. The new knowledge and love of God is camouflaged and not knowledge in the usual Review for Religious sense, since it is apophatic, that is, knowing by unknowing. Nothing is felt by the senses, and the action of God is too subtle to be recognized. The result is ennui and accidie. John of the Cross reassures the beleaguered soul that the new state is an advance. The darkness is from God. John gives signs to authenticate the true grace from counterfeits. They are persistent dryness, the inability to function in the old ways, and the ache for God. Something new is going on. God is present in the scary silence. The person must relax and let God take over. Such is the dark tunnel of beginning infused contemplation. The new way of relating is communion. Instead of 'T' and "Thou" outside one another, the experience is "we" or "us." Mystics revel in this intimacy. It is at-one-ness with God. Such is the experience of this and every other kind of contemplation. It is in contrast to rational thinking about an object out in front. This is the way to just be-ing, participating in one life together, "abiding in Christ and Christ abiding in the person" (see Jn 15:5). Contemplation happens in prayer, in ministry, and in human relationships. It is a fine-tuning of the state of grace. It happens when childish babbling and chatting with God give way to silence. Only silence can handle the new knowledge and love. The silence may disconcert and cause anxiety, because nothing seems to be going on and one fears the emptiness. In fact, a great deal is going on, and the soul is undergoing a deeper purification and illumination. John tells the person to stay quiet, at attention. This blessed state is the proximate objective of the beginner in meditation. In John's view it may take a year or so to reach it.2 In my experience the apprenticeship is longer. It may take several years before one moves beyond discursive meditation into this prayer of silence. 62.3 2003 Larkin * John of the Cross's Message for Today Contemplation Today But something different is happening on the contemplative landscape today. Instead of working for years with discursive meditation and perhaps not entering " the dark night of the senses at all, people in all walks of life are choosing to practice a new kind of contemplative prayer. The contemporary practice is a new category and not the same as the contemplative prayer and contemplation of John of the Cross. For him these two terms are synonymous and always describe the absolutely free gift of infused contemplation. Contemplative prayer today is not discursive meditation, nor is it per se infused contemplation. It is an intermediary between meditation and contemplation. Centering prayer, Christian Meditation, and the Jesus Prayer cultivate silence and presence to God. In John's terminology these forms belong to meditation, since the prayer is active, personally chosen, and self-directed. But they are a kind of contemplation, because they are silent, without words or images or discursive movement from point to point. They are a species of contemplation, because they are communion with the Trinity. Thousands of people are practicing this self-initiated contemplative prayer. They are not forced into this way of relating to God; they choose it. They enter into deliberate and wordless silence. Instead of being busy inquiring, analyzing, and making multiple acts of the affections, they remain present to the divine indwelling in simple awareness and attention to the gift of grace within. This form of prayer is on the growing edge of Christian life. I believe that it is a gift to the church at this point in history. There is a widespread conviction that we do not have to wait until we are forced into the silence. We can choose it and foster it, and a fruitful kind of prayer results. All our other prayer, such as the liturgy and lectio divina, and our apostolic action and for Religious community relationships as well, are affected by this entering within. We come at life from a deeper level. All we need is an "open mind and open heart" to welcome the God hidden in the depths of our souls. This prayer is simply presence, silence, encounter beyond words. The challenge in this kind of prayer is to maintain the silence, to keep focused on the presence of God. The three forms under consideration use a word or a phrase as a way of maintaining attention. Centering prayer uses a holy word like Abba or Jesus to express one's consent to the divine presence and renew one's presence to God; the word is repeated as often as it is needed. Christian Meditation and the Jesus Prayer use the sacred word as a mantra, that is, a phrase repeated throughout the prayer. The usual mantra in Christian Meditation is the Aramaic word "maranatha," which means "Come, Lord." It is a greeting found in the New Testament. The mantra of the Jesus Prayer is the words "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me a sinner." You will not find these prayer forms in the writings of John of the Cross. The architects of these prayer disciplines do not presume the presence of infused contemplation, though they hope that the practice will lead there. John Main maintained that Christian Meditation was a traditional form of meditation in the medieval church. Actually he was not a stickler about terminology or theological distinctions; he saw meditation, contemplation, and contemplative prayer as synonyms. The method of meditation taught by John of the Cross may well have been along the lines of John Main. Beginners were to "ponder a divine mystery.''3 A common way of doing that in early monasticism was to repeat

Issue 60.1 of the Review for Religious, 2001. ; Renewal Vocation Spiritual Legacy Empowerment JANUARY FEBRUARY 2001 VOLUME 60 NUMBER 1 Review for Religious'helps people respond and be faithful to God's universal call to holiness' ' ° by making available to them the spiritual legacies tbat flow-from the cbarisms of Catbolic consecrated 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 ° V~reb 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. ©2001 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. MI 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. view for religious 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 Elizfibeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm James and Joan Felling Adriafi Gaudin SC Sr. Raymond Marie Gerard FSP Joel Rippinger OSB Bish6p Carlos A. Sevilla SJ Patricia Wittberg SC JANUARY FEBRUARY 2001 VOLUME 60 NUMBER 1 contents 6 renewal Beyond Jubilee and Jubilees A. Paul Dominic SJ relates the biblical notion of jubilee to the teaching of Jesus and the practice of the early church in order to point to ways that we might live the spirit of jubilee in our Christian life today. 20 A Continuing Pentecost: Appreciating "Ecclesia in Asia'~ James H. Kroeger MM shares the optimism and gratitude that pervade the apostolic exhortation Ecclesia in Asia as he summarizes and evaluates its various chapters. 30 40 vocation Who Is a Brother? Philip Armstrong CSC traces the church reality of brothers through history to the present-day challenges. Vocational Being Donald Macdonald SMM stresses that, if we Christians need to adore the gift of God in Christ from the core of our being, then Scripture provides the practical means to make our own this perspective of faith. 2j Review for Religious 48 spiritual legacy Spirituality for Mission: Marguerite Bourgeoys and the Ignatian Tradition Mary Ann Foley CND traces the originality of the missionary spirituality of Marguerite Bourgeoys, drawing upon a varity of sources including the Ignatian tradition. 62 The 350th Anniversary of the Sisters of St. Joseph Joan L. Roccasalvo CSJ gives evidence that Ignatius Loyola's Spiritual Exercises are the inspiration and source of Jean-Pierre Mddaille's Maxims of Perfection, which contain the entire spirit of the foundational documents of the Sisters of St. Joseph. 76 empowerment Till the End of My Days Agnes Cunningham SSCM identifies five factors that have proved helpful in her actively pursuing retirement. 80 Power Made Perfect in Weakness: Ministering to the Dying and Bereaved Laurel M. O'Neal offers a correction to our common misconceptions of death, its relation to sin, and especially the relation of God to death. departments 4 Prisms 99 Canonical Counsel: Conclusion of the Novitiate 105 Book Reviews January-February 2001 prisms Review for Religious cele-brates its sixtieth year of publication. Sixty years is not the milestone of the younger fifty or the more dra-matic one hundred. Of course, it is not in the same league as a millennium. But a sixty-year anniversary does present the occasion for a pause--a time for assess-ment, for evaluation, for celebration, for gratitude. We have so many of these "pauses" built into our ordinary life that we can forget how important their place is for the healthy living of life, including the spir-itual. The changing seasons of the year, with their cycles of growth and dormancy, present one rhythmic pattern observed in religious practices of people through the centuries. As we quantify the rhythm of a day into our minutes and hours and then measure fur-ther into days of a week and weeks of a month and months of a year, we are struck at how we humanly have built in so many pauses into ordinary living. As a matter of fact, we humans are not meant to be "energ-erizer bunnies" (as in a famous TV ad about a brand of battery) that just keep going and going, always doing more of the same. No, we are people who have waking and sleeping patterns, who enjoy times of work and of recreation, who seek out periods of solitude and of social interaction, who are marked by successes and failures and those many "gray-area" projects whose value remains unclear. We are meant to pause, to be a Review for Religious reflective people, because we are formed by the Bible--that very reflectively written account of God's dealings with his people. We have just been celebrating the biblical jubilee year as a divinely inspired pause. We Christians are a people who appre-ciate the flow of a liturgical year, with its celebratory pauses that bring home in ever new ways the key moments of our faith-life with God. Though there are these many natural and ecclesial pauses in our life, we seem to be unwilling to choose such a rhythm in our personal daily living. Both in our personal life and in our parish or community projects, we often do not take time to set and identify some intermediate goals. We rush on, instead of reflecting on what we have done up to this point, on what changes might be desirable, on how much gratitude we should have and express for all the cooperation we have received, and perhaps on what mistakes we have made and whose feelings we may have bruised. We Christians need to make time to reflect, to assess and celebrate and apologize, as our way of working with God. We need to choose to build this kind of pause into our day (like the Ignatian daily awareness examen) and into the works and projects we are busy on in concert with others. In commu-nity we need to choose to build in these pauses so that commu-nity life and community projects can make wise choices and avoid sad crises. If we choose to make "anniversary-like pauses" ordinary and so build them into our daily life, we will discover a power source that makes for a physically, psychologically, and spiritually healthy life. We have had our new year's celebration, pausing to ring out the millennium year of 2000 and to welcome the year of 2001. As we enter into this new year, perhaps we all need to look for timely occasions when we .can pause--to celebrate, to assess, to correct, to revitalize for the continuing effort. By such choices, we grow into being the reflective Christians God's word calls us to be. We meet God, in his gift of time to us, by pausing to appreciate it and use it well. David L. Fleming SJ Janualsv-February 2001 renewa A. PAUL DOMINIC Beyond Jubilee and Jubilees The celebration of any jubilee is necessarily public. It cannot be thought of except in social terms. Even in per-sonal jubilees, which are different from institutional jubilees, individual jubilarians do not make their jubilee a private affair; they invite their relations and friends to a celebration. In so doing almost all follow the unwrit-ten bourgeois rule of making their celebration an exclu-sive affair of their particular class and so upholding the social scale. When such segregated festivities are arranged by the rich (and not the poor, who anyway have nothing to celebrate because they have nothing to cele-brate with), they hurt even the rich, not just some other people, because they bring the burden of keeping up with the Joneses. The same thing happens, mutatis mutandis, in institutions and nations, with subtle but real harm to humanity. This is not a modern phenomenon but an old, unfortunate human one. Jesus saw it rampant among his people and ~ought to save them from bringing harm in this way to themselves and others. And so he did not think it unbecoming to tell his host during the meal to imagine another pattern of invitations, one that would break the tradition of inviting select persons or rich ones A. Paul Dominic SJ writes again from Satyodayam; 12-5-33 S. Lallaguda; Secunderabad 500 017; India. Review for Religious or relatives and instead invite particularly the poor and the hand-icapped (Lk 14:12-14). When he was thus breaking new ground in the matter of celebration, was he not inspired by the good news of jubilee that he had learned as a Jew from the Hebrew Scriptures in the bosom of his Hebrew family? Going Back to the Source of Jubilee The very word jubilee is biblical, with a specific religious con-notation of joy. Though it has come into secular parlance, all those who celebrate "jubilees," personal or institutional, would do well to be aware of the term's centuries-old wealth of meaning. The joy that is now associated with jubilees in the secular or religious worlds looks back on achievements of excellence, but the jubilee joy in biblical times looked forward to achievements still to come; also, it involved the whole of Hebrew society, without excluding any class. While all celebrated the jubilee, both the haves and the have-nots, they participated in it differently. The former were behind the whole celebration, promoting it, while the latter benefited from it. The promoters were concerned with building a promising future, not so much for themselves as for others, who unlike them had had a harrowing past of financial reverses. Who on earth could have had this joyful interest in others rather than themselves except God and God's faithful people? Hearing the cry of people who, perhaps even through their own fault, had lost their ancestral holdings and consequently their own rights of freedom and dignity, God would have the losers gain back their lost land and their very persons. As all land and all peo-ple belonged primarily to God, God would ordain a time of grace once every fifty years, when good, law-abiding persons would come forward and voluntarily restore to the unfortunates whatever the latter had lost to them even by way of fair deals. The very idea of people responding to God's call to selfless joy on behalf of the deprived will be effective only to the extent that it is appreciated for its inspire~t and sensible holiness. People will be most joyful in their jubilee only when they thoroughly accept that it is a holy thing for them and declare so (Lv 25:10 and 12). The biblical jubilee is all joy only when it is all holy. It is first and foremost holy and, as such, it cannot but be joyful. It is the holi-ness of the God of joy that makes for the joy of all his people, who are to be holy like him. January-February 2001 Dominic ¯ Beyond yubilee and Jublilees This causal link of holiness to joy in the celebration of jubilees cannot be emphasized too much. The joyous celebra-tion of jubilee enjoined in Leviticus 25:8-17 and 23-55 forms part of the Law of Holiness in Leviticus 17-27. The dynamics of jubilee should be understood in the light of the most important piece in the Law of Holiness: "You shall be holy, for I the Lord your God am holy" (Lv 19:2b). How is this orthodoxy of holiness to become, the orthopraxis of joy? This is a highly practical question even though there remains the theoretical question of how it is possible that our human nature can share in the nature of God, namely, holiness. Leviticus and the rest of the Bible have no use for such questions, but hand down in God's name ways of living that are pleasing to the very God of holiness and joy. With the stunning command to human beings to be holy, there came from God clear directions about how they were to deal with one another. He wanted his people to associate with each other in ways that included practi-cal concern for the poor and the weak and the handicapped so that they would not feel left out: When you reap the harvest of your land, you shall not reap to the very edges of your field, or gather the gleanings of your harvest. You shall not strip your vineyard bare, or gather the fallen grapes of your vineyard; you shall leave them for the poor and the alien: I am the Lord your God. (Lv 19:9-10, emphasis added) This was a practical minimum test of the maximum law he enjoined on them of cultivating a loving disposition towards one another, abjuring grudges and hate (Lv 19:18-19). If people had lived in this original spirit of divinely ordained love, shown in personal dealings and shaped in concrete societal action, there would have been no urgency for such an institution as the jubilee. From the beginning, people did not abide by, but slid from, this ideal. To stem this slide and to set a minimum for the people to reach, God brought about the program of the sabbatical year (Lv 25:2-7). Its enactment, going back to the wake of the Exodus reads thus: For six years you shall sow your land and gather in its yield; but the seventh year you shall let it rest and lie fallow, so that the poor of your people may eat . (Ex 23:10-11, emphasis added) . Though no definite information is found in the Bible's his- Review for Religious torical books about how and how long the sabbatical law was observed,~ there is no denying that it was (see Ne 10:32 and 1 M 6:49-53), though not always (see 2 Ch 36:21). And that is why one may dare say--in this field there are as many opinions as scholars-- that the law was further developed to include remission of debts in favor of the poor and, what is more, to be generous to them. Aiming at abolishing poverty, the new law unambiguously said: If there is among you anyone in need . . do not be hard-hearted or tight-fisted toward your needy neighbor. You should rather open your hand, willingly lending enough to meet the need, whatever it may be. Be careful that you do not entertain a mean thought, thinking, "The seventh year, the year of remission, is near," and therefore view your needy neighbor with hostility and give nothing . Give liberally and be ungrudging when you do so. (Dt 15:7-10, emphasis added) Who could better this law? For all its beauty (if law can be said to be beautiful), who would want this kind of beauty for them-selves? Who would observe this beautiful law? Indeed, there may be people now who would question its very place in a legal corpus. Though this was presumably not the case then, still, given human nature, it would not be surprising if it was practiced in its violation rather than observance. For this reason, and with a view to getting people to observe the high ideal of the law, it was drastically changed with regard to the time of its enforcement. The new law, unlike the old, would come into force not every seven years as before, but every fifty years, heralding what came to be known as the jubilee year, called so after the instrument used for the announcement, namely, yobe! (Hebrew for trumpet). Though the sabbatical law was thus made less burdensome (one would not have had to observe it more than once in one's lifetime, given the biblical lifespan of eighty even for the. strong), still the jubilee law retained the essential burden of the previous laws, namely, reversing the trend of the rich becoming richer and the poor poorer. Its complete formulation specified four things. (1) People must allow all land to lie fallow, must live on what it pro-duces by itself and has been stored, and must share with others. (2) In selling and buying, the rich should not cheat and oppress the poor, taking advantage of their plight. (3) Those who have grown richer by buying other~' properties should freely restore them to their former owners. (4) Those who own Israelites as slaves January-February 2001 Dominic ¯ Beyond g~ubilee and j~ublilees (because in their poverty they sold themselves) have to honorably release them and their families. Was the mitigated law observed? While some scholars say that it does not seem it was ever observed,z others opine cautiously that the possibility of its having been observed in the beginning of the settlement in the Holy Land cannot be ruled OUt.3 Relying on the two applications of the jubilee law to specific situations (Lv 27:16-25 and Nm 36:1-12), we may presume that there indeed was a time when the law was in force and not a dead letter. Also, ¯ from the fact that the Greek Alexander and the Roman Julius Caesar exempted their Jewish domain of Judaea from the annual tribute during the sabbatical year,4 may we not infer that the jubilee directives were at that time not out of vogue in the life of the peo-ple? It would be interesting, then, to know how they could have been carried out generation after generation. But unfortunately no historical observance of the jubilee was recorded in either the Old Testament or the New. Anyway, from the kind of juridical Judaism found in the New Testament, we have no compelling rea-son to believe that the jubilee still prevailed in practice, leaving us to wonder what ever happened to Judaism that God founded as a contrast communitys with its liberative laws, such as jubilee. Retrieving the Jubilee after Jesus Where does this le~d us? An answer may spring up from sens-ing how Jesus responded to the moribund custom of jubilee in his time. Though the word jubilee does not occur in the Gospels, the way he looked at some issues may point to his thinking on jubilee. He was surely positive in his attitude to the Law, and so we hear the puzzling logion: "Do not think that I have come to abol-ish the law or the prophets; I have come not to abolish but to ful-fill" (Mt 5:17). In so taking his stand, he was calling for right obedience to the Law: hearing the voice of God in the word of the Law, understanding God's genuine purpose, and acting on it. If he often invited attacks by those who were on the side of reli-gion, it was to challenge them to read the L~w aright according to the mind of the Lawgiver. He pointed out, too, that in the course of history the Law was sometimes mitigated or even distorted, as in the case of divorce, because of human hardness of heart. In order to accomplish the Law, he would advocate first and fore-most a return to its origin in the heart of God and a discernment Revie~v for Religious of its true relevance for the day, guided by the signs of the times, the ongoing surprise revelations of God's ways. Inspired by such a vision of the Law, Jesus would have insisted that jubilees were not occasions to be observed merely twice in a century, whether by omission or halfheartedly or even whole-heartedly. In this spirit he would have spoken searchingly: "If it was said of old that in the jubilee year you should return to the owner the land he had sold to you in his penury, I ask you, 'Why buy at all in the first place from a needy person?' Again, if it was said of old that you should not, during the jubilee, claim your money lent to the poor, I ask you, 'Why lend at all to the poor with a view to getting it back? Rather, give to anyone who asks you and, if anyone wants to borrow, do not turn away.' Again, if it was said of old that in the jubilee year you should free your slaves, I ask you, 'How dare you .ever buy out your brothers or sisters and enslave them even if they sold themselves to you in their dire need? For you are all slaves of God, and among yourselves you are brothers and sisters.'" Further, he would have told any challengers to search the Scriptures and realize how God had freed their forebears from slavery and settled them in a new land, a land that was not theirs but his, so that they might know the holy joy of living together in rich fellowship and surrounded by the blessings of Providence. Finally, in Ezekiel's fashion (Ezk 20:4-24), he would even have made them face their Roman subjugation and answer whether it was not due to their forsaking the jubilee of God and ceasing to be truly subject to the God of jubilee. It would have been with such silent thoughts that he went beyond the old jubilee and initiated a new era, calling it the year of the Lord's favor (Lk 4:19) and heralding the longed-for liberty, fulfilling Ezekiel's prophecy6 and climaxing John's preaching.7 God's own aspiration was ever to create a people witnessing to his blessing. Going Forth in the Spirit of Jubilee In picking up such possible thoughts of Jesus, what is our own jubilee aspiration and how are we to realize it? We do so by becom-ing the community of God's people and striving to do away with poverty. God's own aspi.ration was ever to create a people wit- January-February 2001 Dominic ¯ Beyond Jubilee and Jublilees nessing to his blessing. When Jesus came on the scene, he pro-claimed that constant purpose of God. When he announced God's kingdom emerging in the world, he heralded equivalendy the com-munity of God's people. Further, in imitation of his Father, he was re-creating it visibly out of the remnant that was left of the old community.8 The new community, though very much in the world, was not of it. It was fashioned to be an alternative society in the spirit of jubilee. It had its own charter, promising and promoting the fulfillment of individuals and groups in society and thus the whole society (Mt 5:3-10). Its foremost beneficiaries were the poor of all sorts, that is, those who had been all along without name, voice, or standing, like children and women, the ritually and socially outcast, and, of course, the economically awkward. Though made up of different classes, the new community would not have the distinction and segregation of the high and the low; rather, the so-called high would serve the so-called low. If such terms as highest and lowest were to be used at all, then the highest in the community would be those who, bending over for the sake of others, made themsel+es little and served them-- even washing their feet. Their insignia would not be the tradi-tional one of selfish power, privilege, and possession, but the downward mobility of service and healthy promotion of others, avoiding all competition. Their royal rule would be: "In every-thing do to others as you would have thdm do to you" (Mt 7:12). Perhaps the one incident in which almost all the above distinctive qualities of the new community came into play was Jesus' feeding the multitude and satisfying them all with the little supply of bread and fish made available by a little boy. Living in this spirit of permanent jubilee, apart from which there is no jubilee worth talking about, we dare dream of becom-ing a contrast .community of Christians, renovating the structures of the age-old world in many details and so creating places where individual and social well-being can exist. Jubilee Praxis at the Start of the First Millennium How on earth can this become part of the realm of reality? Though we may find ourselves overwhelmed by forces against true community, did Jesus not envisage such a community of the future right at the start of his ministry when he declared that the era of universal liberation was beginning there and then with him- Review for Religious self (Lk 4:21)? Did he not confirm it as he went about forming one flock On 10:16)? And, at the very end, was he not intent on drawing all to himself and forming one community (Jn 12:32)? Did he fail in all that? The pristine community of the church witnessed that he certainly did not. Indeed, it acquired early an identity of its own, distinguishing it from the surrounding com-munity and marking its way of living together. Their identity was not so much their theoretical acceptance of the gospel, but prac-tical allegiance to it with consequences in social behavior. Luke named it koinonia, meaning fellowship or communion, which "con-notes the bond of responsibility to one another enjoined on believ-ers by their assent to the gospel."9 His firsthand report of this unique phenomenon reads thus: All who believed were together and had all things in com-mon; they would sell their possessions and goods and dis-tribute the proceeds to all, as any had need. Day by day they broke bread at home and ate their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having the goodwill of the people. (Ac 2:44-47) Perhaps to emphasize the veracity of his report, he drew another such picture: Now the whole group of those who believed were of one heart and soul, and no one claimed private ownership of any possessions, but everything they owned was held in common . There was not a needy person among them, for as many as owned lands or houses sold them and brought the proceeds of what was sold. They laid it at the apos-tles' feet, and it was distributed to each as any had need. (Ac 4:32-35, emphasis added) The kernel of koinonia was thus communism in its best sense, namely, the community of goods which expressed, proved, and strengthened the community of spirit.1° The trial of koinonia even brought about the institution of diaconia or service (Ac 6:1-6) to oversee the practicalities of koinonia. Nothing like it had happened before in the Mosaic period, but it did not come out of the blue. It had its clear precedents as the law~ of the sabbatical and jubilee year show. The sharing of the rich with the poor envisaged by such laws did not merely look to the temporary or intermittent allevia-tion of the hardship of the.poor. Rather, it aimed at the divine ideal of annihilating poverty altogether according to the hopeful com-mand: "There shall be no poor among you" (Dt 15:4).~ January-February 2001 Dominic ¯ Beyond j-~ubilee and 3~ublilees Inspired by Jesus, the early church learned well, translating the above command into action and initiating jubilee living. The later church, as far as the 3rd century or so, followed suit in such a striking manner that the historian Pliny thought of Christians as tertia gens, a third group of people besides Romans and barbarians. Still the ideal had to be nurtured from the beginning against natural human hesitations, weaknesses, and failures. So Paul bade the Corinthians regarding help for the famine-stricken commu-nity in Jerusalem: Strive for equality; at present give from your abundance what they are short of, and some day they will repay in abundance what you lack. Then you will be equal and what Scripture says shall come true: "To him who had much, nothing was in excess; to him who had little, nothing was lacking." (2 Co 8:13-15, Christian Community Bible) The equality of everyone in the community, whether rich or poor, will remain no more than an illusion as long as .economic inequality remains. That is a warning implicitly given by James, when he confronted Christian assemblies with their old unequal dealings with the rich and poor: For, if a person with gold rings and in fine clothes comes into your assembly and if a poor person in dirty clothes also comes in, and if you take notice of the one wearing the fine clothes and say "Have a seat here, please" while to the one who is poor you say "Stand there" or "Sit at my feet," have you not made distinctions among yourselves? (Jm 2:2-4) On the contrary, where the rich willingly forgo some of their riches in order to raise the condition of the poor, there is equal joy for both; and so James could say, "Let the believer who is lowly boast in being raised up, and the rich in being brought low" (Jm 1:9-10). Jubilee Praxis as the Third Millennium Starts With such precedents, are we going to achieve community of equals? Yes, if we enter upon unambiguous, if taxing, praxis. The first practice would seem to be self-awareness of our "chronic" failure in shaping human communities. If even now we let the societal laws considered above provoke not offense (pace Paul, Rm 3:20) but repentance, convicting us of our share of humanity's sin in this matter, we would be on the right track. Review for Religious Part of this initial practice is to realize how we, like the rest of humanity, have cultivated the pleasing or even cozy practice of good intention rather than a.ction, of fine words rather than deeds. James had reason to ask bluntly: If a brother or sister is naked and lacks daily food and one of you says to them "Go in peace, keep warm and eat your fill," and yet you do not supply their bodily needs, what is the good of that? (]m 2:15-16) Is this challenge any less relevant now for the church community, and in particular the talking (even if not pontificating) theological fraternity, despite two millennia of Christianity? This is, however, no time for despair, but a time for immediate, earnest, and con-sistent praxis based on the twin nature of human beings as spiri-tual and economic. The second practice could well be conscientization for both the rich and the poor. The former may not even realize what being poor actually means. I, for one, was surprised to hear a city dweller say not very long ago that he missed Sunday Mass because he had no clean clothes to wear. Situations like this must be brought to the notice 6f the well-dressed community at Sunday Mass, among whom might be found some, like a Chicago priest I heard about, for whom a shirt worn once is too soiled to be worn again on the same day. In a school run by a group of sisters, a poor child went to class in slippers instead of shoes; for punishment her teacher, a former nun, made her wear them round her neck with her belt. Such unbe-lievable things occur and need to be made known, through chan-nels such as pastoral councils, to the rest of the community. For their part, the poor must be transformed by becoming conscious of what they deserve but are denied by society, includ-ing the church. St. Vincent de Paul Societies may serve this crit-ical cause, first learning themselves and then teaching poor people their rights enshrined in Canon Law. What a revelation to hear: There are canons that can be said to promote the ~velfare of the poor and speak fibout the defense of their rights. There are canons that promote the participation of the poor in church life, facilitate their access to the sacraments, uphold the right to receive help from the temporal goods of the church, require norms on legal aid for the poor, and so forth?~ If such conscientization is to become reality, much depends on a third practice, ecclesial leadership, which at least in India rests Dominic ¯ Beyond Jubilee and Jublilees largely with the bishops and then the clergy. Who is to tell them what their praxis should or could be? That, though, is what the Servant Leadership school in Washington, D.C., has dared, train-ing leaders in community living that is intimately associated with the life of the poor.13 It is heartening to hear of a bold Indian bishop who would not oblige his priests' clamor for his support of projects for the poor unless they committed themselves to conscientiously spend-ing for the target group all the money received. Not many, how-ever, are like him, intent on being levelers, mindful of benefiting the poor wholly and so bringing all people to a level of equality. So we hear stories of bishop~ who are not loath to receive a purse on the occasion of their jubilees celebrations, in clear violation of the spirit of the biblical jubilee. Vv'hat are we to think when a bishop, to please his family, tries to dissuade a young man from becoming a brother to serve the poor and even offers to make him a priest in his diocese? Does he have a ghost of an idea, let alone a chance, to build a true community where the poor will find their due, equal place of honor and feel blessed? Would that the unworthy bishops acted on the proposal, made by themselves or their confreres at the Synod of Bishops on Justice, to "under-take an examination of the modes of acting and of the posses-sions and lifestyle found within the church itself'U4--even though they seem not to take seriously the anticlerical strictures of Christ himself. Whatever the praxis of the leadership may be, the rest of the community may aid it indirectly by their own related praxis. And this may express itself in at least three ways. The first one is com-ing to know the likes of the locally famous Indian Jesuit Bishop Saupin (who, reportedly, would, in the style of the populace, travel in a rickshaw, clad in kurta and pajamas and smoking his beedi) or the globally famous Archbishop Romero. The second is pray-ing conscientiously and hopefully, while mentioning the ordinary's name at Mass, for the metanoia and metamorphosis of bishops so that they may know the importance of serving their community ¯ (which itself exists for serving one another in charity) by witness-ing to the incompatibility of chronic poverty with the visible king-dom of God. And the third (which is difficult but must be done) is humbly calling ecclesiastical high-ups to account, even against their resistance, in forums such as the parish and diocesan coun-cils enjoined by Vatican Council II. Review for Religious The fourth practice concerns the religious who have their own sphere of leadership for good and bad. While those in the limelight engage righdy or wrongly in discussion on the religious life of the future, there are a small number, like the Little Sisters and Brothers of Jesus, whose life itself is mostly.their practice of naturally and not optionally'5 accompanying the poor by their.presence among them in their living place, by their solidarity with them in the workplace, by their adoption of the lifestyle of their poor peers, and by their hospitality to the poor and rich which makes both groups feel equal and at ease. In the economy of communion practiced b~" Focolare members, they economize for the purpose of sharing and, of course, socializing with those expe-riencing poverty, misery, and humiliation. Their way has attracted the attention even of gov-ernments. A year ago, for example, a Brazilian parlia-mentary commission made an official visit to their cen-ter in order to learn prac-tices that could help solve poverty problems in their country. Hearing the expe-riences of the Focolare entrepreneurs, they marveled at the con-crete achievements of the economy of communion, achievements that seemed impossible in the current economic context. One of them said: "The economy of communion is an already proven and revolu-tionary alternative. It is a new concept of economy, a new con-cept of wealth."16 The two groups mentioned above do not have any "apostolate" whatever as other congrggations understand the term. While other groups may benefit from the innovative experience of the these two groups, still, to develop their own praxis of involving them-selves in the lives of the poor, there would be no better way than going back to their original sources.~7 For, as a~le, religious con-gregation have always been founded with real bonds with the poor. Another thing that may help various religious congregations is the zealous search for ways to adapt present missions "for the ben- In the economy of communion practiced by Focolare members, they economize for the purpose of sha~ing and, of course, socializing with those experiencing poverty,, misery, and humiliation. January-February 2001 Dominic * " Beyond J'ubilee and Jublilees efit of the poor and for a more just and fraternal world."~s A sure test of this will be making sure that, whatever work they begin, it benefits the poor most, as was surprisingly advocated by Gandhi to the members of his congress party striving for India's freedom. Another thing that may promote right praxis among them is to go back, in the spirit of what Paul and James advocate (1 Co 2:26 and Jm 2:5), to their own personal origins and find how poor indeed they were. For one may wager that most of us hail from families that are middle class, but commonly are lower than mid-dle class or indeed poor, even very poor, not unlike the apostles. There is no better way of concluding all this than what Jesus said to his disciples so poignandy at the Last Supper: "If you know these things, you are blessed if you do them!" (Jn 13:17). Notes t See Rui de Menezes, "The Biblical Jubilee Year," Vidyajyoti Journal 61 (1997): 653. [See also Robert G. North, Biblical Jubilee, after Fifty Years (Rome: Editrice Pontificio Biblico, 2000), a revised edition of his Sociology of the Biblical Jubilee, 1954.--ED.] 2 See The New Jerusalem Bible (NyB) (New York: Doubleday, 1985), note Lv 25a, p. 167. 3 See The New Jerome Biblical Commentary (N'JBC), ed. R.E. Brown et al. (Bangalore: Theological Publications in India, 1991), n. 4:53, p. 78. 4 See Rui de Menezes, "Biblical Jubilee," p. 667, for the reference in Interpreter's Dictionary of the Bible. s See T. Malipurathu, "Contrast Community: Its Meaning and Relevance for our Times," Vidyajyoti Journal 62 (1.998): 606-623, esp. 610-613. 6 It is striking that Ezk 46:7 uses the expression the Year of Liberty to refer to the Year of Jubilee. 7 See the relevant notes on Lk 3:3-14 in Christian Community Bible (Quezon City: Claretian Publications, 1990), p. 123. s See the note Mt 16g in NJB, p.1637, and the note on Ac 2:46 in NyBC, n. 44:28, pp. 734-735. 9 NyBC, n. 44:28, p. 734. ,0 See note Ac 2ffin NyB, p. 1803. n For the translation in the style of the Decalogue, see Rui de Menezes, "Biblical Jubilee," p. 654. 12 Jeyaseelan, "The Poor and the Priest in the Code of Canon Law, I," Vidyajyoti Journal 63 (1999): 924. ~3 See Henri J.M. Nouwen, In the Name of Jesus (London: Darton, Longman, and Todd, 1989), p. xii. Review for Religious 14 AS in Jeyaseelan, "The Poor and the Priest," p. 930. t5 Fausto Gomez suggests that the preferential option for the poor is not simply optional but obligatory. See Jeyaseelan, "The Poor and the Priest," p. 927. 16 Mariapolis (Focolare newsletter), December 1999, p. 14. ~7 See, for example, Decrees of the Thirty-Fourth General Congregation of the Society of Jesus (Anand: Gujarat Sahitya Prakash, 1995, and St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1995), §288. ,s Decrees, §289. The Sun The sun rose At 7:02 a.m.', standard time, the paper told me. The changing silhouettes of peaked boxes transformed into houses sided in pale pink and grays and browns proved it. But no explosion of color ¯ announced the moment, no silent fireworks to wake the sky. Only the quiet finger of God'~ tracing day-gold across the horizon. Suzanne Mayer IHM January-Februaly 2001 JAMES H. KROEGER A Continuing Pentecost: Appreciating "Ecclesia in Asia" "T he church in Asia sings the praises of the 'God of salvation' (Ps 68:20).-" These opening words set the tone of Ecclesia in Asia (hereafter EA), the postsynodal apostolic exhortation promulgated in November 1999: Clearly, themes of gratitude, celebration, and optimism characterize this document. The church sings God's praises for "choosing to initiate his saving plan on Asian soil," for sending "his only-begotten Son, Jesus Christ the Savior, who took flesh as an Asian!" The church sees the "marvel of God's plan in Asia" and exults "in the goodness of the continent's peoples, cultures, and religious vitality" (§1). Pope John Paul II signed the document during his Asian pastoral visit to India (5-8.November 1999). The issuance of EA was the concluding moment of the special assembly for Asia of the Synod of Bishops, popularly known as the Asian Synod. This four-year project of church reflection and renewal began with the publicafon of the Lineamenta (1996), continued with discussion on the Instrumentum Laboris (1998), reached its apex with the month-long synod sessions in Rome (19 April-14 May 1998), and culminated with the proclamation of the postsynodal Ecclesia in Asia James H. Kroeger MM, a Maryknoll Missioner who has served in Asia since 1970 (Philippines and Bangladesh), is currently professor of systematic theology, missiology, and Islamics at Loyola School of Theology in Manila. His article was first published in Landas 13, no. 3 (journal of Loyola School of Theology). His address is Marvknoll; P.O. Box 285, Greenhills Post Office; Metro Manila, Philippine~ 1502. Review for Religqous (6 November 1999). Yes, "Asia-Church" rejoices and unceasingly proclaims God's enduring love! The Asian Synod was a multifaceted event on many levels. As EA notes, "it was indeed a moment of special grace" (§3). It was also "a celebratory remembering of the Asian roots of Christianity" (§4). The synod event became "an ardent affirmation of faith in Jesus Christ the Savior" (§4), and, as the local churches of Asia gathered in Rome, "the synod fathers sought to discern the principal areas of mission for the church in Asia as she crosses the threshold of the new millennium" (§ 18). The synod's theme was much debated and carefully chosen: "Jesus Christ the Savior and his mission of love and service in A~ia: 'That they may have Life and have it abundantly' On 10:10)." AS the pope writes, this particular formulation of the theme was to "illustrate and explain more fully that Christ is the one mediator between God and man and the sole redeemer of the world, to be clearly distinguished from the founders of other great religions" (§2). The theme manifests the chu[ch's faith in Jesus and his mission; he is Savior who serves and bestows abundant life; he is to be.joyfi4.11y proclaimed in Asia. Ecclesia in Asia, a rich, lengthy document, now becomes an important signpost of evangelization for the local churches in Asia in the new millennium. An analysis of EA reveals three major sections or underlying thematics: (I) Asian realities relevant to the church and her mission of evangelization (§§5-9); (2) theological-doctrinal aspects of Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit (§§10-23); (3) The church's mission of love and service in Asia (§§24-49). The main body of EA is framed by an introduction which captures the highlights of the synod process (§§1-4) and a conclusion that expyesse~, the pope's gratitude and encouragement along with a final prayer to Mary, "Mother of Asia" (§§50-51).The entire document is focused on "seeking to discern the Spirit's word to the churches in Asia" (§51). Asian Context Ecclesia in Asia devotes its chapter 1 to the concrete situation of .contemporary ~sia--her r.eligious, cultural, economic, social, political, and historical realities (§§5-9). This inductive approach, characteristic ~)f current Asian theological reflection, mirrors the method and experience of the Federation of Asian Bishops' January-February 2001 Kroeger . A Continuing Pentecost Conferences (FABC). The Asian church accepts that "a critical awareness of the diverse and complex realities of Asia is essential if the people of God on the continent are to respond to God's will for them in the new evangelization" (§5). As EA notes, "Asia is the earth's largest continent and is home to nearly two-thirds of the world's population"; its various peoples are "heirs to ancient cultures, religions, and traditions." One is amazed "at the sheer size of Asia's population and at the intricate mosaic of its many cultures, languages, beliefs, and traditions." Asia is "the cradle of the world's major religions" and "the birthplace of many other spiritual traditions" (§6). Economically, socially, and politically, "situations on the Asian continent are very diverse, defying any simple classification" (§7). EA highlights various concrete pastoral concerns: rapid change, migration, nuclear power, tourism, population growth, poverty, women, and a host of additional challenges. In this complex situation the church's one ambition is to continue Christ's mission of service and love (see §50). Her approach is that of mutual exchange and enrichment; thus, EA confirms "the importance of dialogue as a characteristic mode of the church's life in Asia" (§3). Mother Teresa of Calcutta is proposed as "an icon of the service to life which the church is offering in Asia" because of "her loving and selfless care of the poorest of the poor" (§7). This "chosen" continent of Asia, with all its immensity, diversity, and complexity, holds special meaning for the church. God's only-begotten Son "took flesh as an Asian" (§I); "Behold, the Savior of the world is born to us, born in Asia" (§2). Yes, Asia is unique as "the birthplace of Jesus and of the church" (§5). This church thanks God "for choosing Asia as the earthly dwelling place of his incarnate Son" (§50; see §§2, 9, 20). This unique gift implies a task; the church commits her energies to making Jesus, his gospel of life, and his community the church truly "at home" (inculturated) in Asia and her peoples (§§9, 20). Theological Foundations Three chapters of.EA, focusing on Jesus and the Spirit, describe a type of doctrinal orientation to the church's Asian mission. Yet the manner of presentation is decidedly pastoral; it blends theologies "from below" and "from above." It reads easily, the flow is smooth, and inclusive language is partially employed. Some insights even Review for Religious " enjoy poetic expression: "Contemplating Jesus in his human nature, the peoples of Asia find their deepest questions answered, their hopes fulfilled, their dignity uplifted, and their despair conquered" (§14). The thematic of girl is frequently found in these "theological" chapters. Jesus the Savior is a gift to Asia; this faith-gift is to be both appropriated and proclaimed. "The church's faith in Jesus is a gift received and a gift to be shared; it is the greatest gift which the church can offer to Asia" (§10). "Only if the people of God recognize the gift that is theirs ~n Christ will they be able to communicate that gift to others through proclamation and dialogue" (§31; see §20). The church in Asia must ask itself a probing question: How do we "share with our Asian brothers and sisters what we treasure as the gift containing all gifts, namely, the Good News of Jesus Christ" (§19)? Proclaiming the Christian faith-gift meets unique challenges, particularly in the "multiethnic, multireligious and multicultural situation of Asia" (§21). Asia has its indigenous religions, soteriologies, and savior figures (see §§14, 19, 20). This reality demands a humble, dialogical stance on the part of the church; "proclamation is prompted not by sectarian impulse nor the spirit of proselytism nor any sense of superiority" (§20; see §§4, 31, 46). And yet this genuine respect and reverence for the church's dialogue partners "does not eliminate the need for the explicit proclamation of the gospel in its fullness" (§20; see §31). By her very identity the church is "a community aflame with missionary zeal to make Jesus known, loved, and followed" (§ 19). Affirming the relevance of Jesus for Asia (§§1, 9, 10, 18, 50) demands a particular approach to proclamation. The church "needs to follow a pedagogy which will introduce people step by step to the full appreciation of the mystery." She should employ "narrative methods akin to Asian cultural forms" and follow "an evocative pedagogy, using stories, parables, and symbols so characteristic of Asian methodology in teaching." In a word, the church must "evangelize in a way that appeals to the sensibilities of Asian peoples" (§20). Engaging Asian peoples, their cultures, and their religions (FABC's triple dialogue) demands genuine commitment to inculturation (§§20-23) and interreligious dialogue (§§29-31). Asia is unique as "the birthplace of Jesus and of the church." January-February 2001 Kroeger * ,4 Continuing Pentecost EA asserts that Christology is necessarily integrated with pneumatology as well as Trinitarian faith. It is the "uniqueness of Christ which gives him an absolute and universal significance" (§14); one cannot "separate the activity of the Holy Spirit from that of Jesus the Savior" (§.16). The Holy Spirit, "the prime agent of evangelization" (§17), is "an absolutely vital part of the mystery of Jesus and the salvation which he brings" (§15). Jesus and his Spirit are only adequately comprehended within,the "Trinity's plan of salvation" (§15); there are no two parallel economies of salvation. There are real, complex missiological questions, and the Asian Synod and Ecclesia in Asia attempted to face them. A Missionary Community The longest section of F~ (§§24-49) focuses on the church and her mission in the vast Asian continent. Four discernible themes emerge: church as communion for mission (§§24-28), dialogue (§§29-31), human promotion (§§32-41), and agents of evangelization (§§42-49). EA presents a vision as well as concrete approaches for mission; these emerge from a particular faith stance: "The question is not whether the church has something essential to say to the men and women of our time, but how she can say it clearly and convincingly" (§29). EA recognizes "the pressing need of the local churches in Asia to present the mystery of Christ to their peoples according to their cultural patterns and ways of thinking" (§20). "Communion ecclesiology" finds strong expression in EA. The church is a "privileged place of encounter" between God and people; her first purpose is "to be the sacrament of the inner union of the human person with God." She is also "the sacrament of the unity of the human race." This means that "communion and mission are inseparably connected [and] they interpenetrate and mutually imply each other." Communion is "both the source and fruit of mission." In short, "communion give~ rise to mission and mission is accomplished in communion" (§24). The church in Asia promotes internal communion and participation on many levels: with the successor of Peter, among various sister local churches, dioceses, basic ecclesial communities ("a positive feature Of the church's evangelizing.activity"), renewal movements, the Catholic Eastern churches,, and other. Christian churches (see §§25~2:7). Internal communion emanates outward Review for Religious ¯ toward other groups throughout Asia: the variety of peoples, cultures, and religions with whom the church shares life (§25), churches and peoples in mainland China, North Korea, and the ex- Soviet territories of Asia (§28). Regional and continental associations of bishops that foster communion (for example, FABC) are recognized and praised (§26), but their profound insights are never directly quoted. ¯ .An inherent demand of "communion ecclesiology" is dialogue. This "desire for dialogue . . . is not simply a strategy for peaceful coexistence among peoples; it is an essential part of the church's mission, ¯ . . a veritable vocation for the church" (§29). A particularly helpful section is devoted to interreligious dialogue (§31), seen as % part of the church's evangelizing mission, an expression of the mission adgentes." The advent of the new millennium offers the church "a great opportunity for interreligious dialogue and for meetings with the leaders of the great world religions." Following the lead of Nostra aerate, "the Magna Carta of interreligious dialogue for our times," the church in Asia is called to a double fidelity: to affirm her "belief that the fullness of salvation comes from Christ alone" and to gladly acknowledge "whatever is true and holy in the religious traditions of Buddhism, Hinduism, and Islam as a reflection of that Truth which enlightens all people." Interreligious dialogu~ seeks "mutual advancement [and] the elimination of prejudice, intolerance, and misunderstandings" (§31). Dialogue demands will only increase with passing years. Persons must be formed to have "a mature and convinced Christian faith" that qualifies them "to engage in genuine interreligious dialogue." They need to be "deeply immersed in the mystery of Christ [and] happy in their faith community." The call to dialogue requires the church in Asia "to provide suitable models of interreligious dialogue." In the dialogue endeavor it is imperative "to revitalize prayer and contemplation" and to give witness to "the great Christian traditions of asceticism and mysticism" (§31). The advent of the new millennium offers the church "a great opportunity for interreligious dialogue and for meetings with the leaders of the great world religions." January-Febr~ary 2001 Kroeger ¯ A Continuing Pentecost Chapter 6 treats human promotion and church social teaching. S~iving to build a "civilization of love," the church views all human development not only as a "technical or economic question; it is fundamentally a human and moral question" (§32). An integral, holistic approach to evangelization is employed, encompassing the areas of human dignity (§33), preferential love for the poor (§34), healthcare (§36), education (§37), peacemaking (§38), globalization (§39), foreign debt (§40), and the environment (§41). In these diverse fields the church resists "the culture of death" in accord with her vision of"the gospel of life" (§35). Agents of Evangelization Chapter 7, titled "Witnesses to the Gospel," focuses on the church's missionary identity in Asia. The church strives to be a credible witness because "people today put more trust in witnesses than in teachers, in experience than in teaching, and in life and action than in theories"; in the Asian context "people are more persuaded by holiness of life than by intellectual argument" (§42). EA asserts that it is "a genuinely religious person [who] readily wins respect and a following in Asia" (§23). Gospel witness in Asia needs holy men and women who themselves are "on fire with the love of Christ and burning with zeal to make him known more widely, loved more deeply, and followed more closely." Why? "A fire can only be lit by something that is itself on fire"; Christian witnessing demands "a true missionary spirituality of prayer and contemplation" (§23). Asian peoples, especially the youth, manifest this "deep thirst for spiritual values" (§6). In a word, living Christian mission in Asia incorporates and, in fact, demands "contemplative action and active contemplation" (§23). EA addresses a v.ariety of gospel witnesses: pastors (§43), religious and missionaries (§44), theologians (§22), laypers6ns (§45), families (§46), young people (§47), and those whose apostolate is social communications, "the areopagus of the modern age" (§48). Striking insights are often presented: "People in Asia need to see the clergy not just as charity workers and institutional administrators, but as men whose minds and hearts are set on the deep things of the Spirit" (§43). "The synod fathers were most concerned that the church should be a participatory church in which no one feels excluded, and they judged the wider Review for Religious participation of women in the life and mission of the church in Asia to be an especially pressing need" (§45). The pope encourages and thanks missionaries (§§20, 42, 44, 50), urging "the church in Asia to send forth missionaries, even though she herself needs laborers in the vineyard" (§44). Mission is to be central to each local church; local "missionary societies of apostolic life, characterized by their special commitment to the mission ad genres, ad exteros, and ad vitam" are strongly encouraged (§44). EA calls upon "the great host of Asian martyrs, old and new,. ¯. to teach the church in Asia what it means to bear witness." (§49). Additional Emphases The Asian Synod surfaced crucial questions facing local churches in Asia; EA reflects several of these pastoral and missionary concerns. The question of Jesus' Asianness surfaces in various discussions¯ "Jesus is often perceived as foreign to Asia. It is paradoxical that most Asians tend to regard Jesus--born on Asian soil--as a Western rather than an Asian figure" (§20). "It is indeed a mystery why the Savior of the world, born in Asia, has until now remained largely unknown to the people of the continent" (§2). To address and overcome this reality, the church must open herself to "new and surprising ways in which the face of Jesus might be presented in Asia" (§20). How can Jesus be effectively proclaimed-- bearing an "Asian face"? The subject of religious freedom arises because in various places in Asia "Christians are not allowed to practice their faith freely" (§8); "explicit proclamation is forbidden, and religious freedom is denied or systematically restricted" (§23). Christians are forced "to live their faith in the midst of restrictions or even the total denial of freedom" (§28). Governments are enjoined to "guarantee religious freedom for all their citizens" (§28), assure "immunity from coercion" (§23) in religious matters, and recognize "the right to freedom of conscience and religion and the other basic human rights" (§34). Analysis and comparison between the content of EA and the decades of pastoral reflection by Asian bishops (FABC) reveals many similarities. 'Since 1974, in its document "Evangelization in Modern-Day Asia," the FABC has promoted the local church's triple dialogue with Asia's peoples, cultures, and religions; this vision is January-Februat.~ 2001 Kroeger * A Continuing Pentecost Inculturation received much attention during the synod. repeatedly found in F~ (see §§1, 15, 18,.20, 21, 24). Again, the FABC pastoral priorities enunciated over the years, particularly the focus on the family, women and the girl-child, youth, ecology, and the displaced (see FABC VI:lS) are also highlighted by ~ (§~34, 37, 41, 46, 47). FABC itself is mentioned (§§2, 3, 26, 31), though none of its fine work is directly quoted or even noted in the copious endnotes. The theme of inculturation received much attention during the synod, and certain particular areas were identified as requiring concentrated focus: "theological reflection, liturgy, the formation of priests and religious, eatechesis, and spirituality" (§21). Central to inculturating the faith is the biblical word, the message of salvation, the sacred text; Sacred Scripture is proposed as ."the basis for all missionary proclamation, catechesis, preaching, and styles of spirituality" (§22). One may inquire about criteria for authentic inculturation; ,EA notes: "The test of true inculturation is whether people become more committed to their Christian faith because they perceive it more clearly with the eyes of their own culture" (§22). The Christian virtue of compassion repeatedly surfaces in Ed (for example, §§11, 12, 14, 20, 45, 51). The apostolic exhortation is correct in expressing the church's mission.in terms of this appealing focus. Presenting Jesus as "the compassionate friend of the poor" (§20) will find a resonance and reception among Asians. In the ' church's mission of love and service, women evangelizers contribute greatly "to bringing the compassionate Jesus, the healer and reconciler, to Asian people, especially the poor and marginalized" (§45). Jesus, the God-man, was "close to the poor, the forgotten, and the lowly"; "he wept for a dead friend [and] welcomed children"; "divine compassion had never been so immediately accessible" (§11). As the church in Asia enters the new millennium, she faces some demanding challenges. EA highlights some importfint apostolates: women (§§7, 34, 45), you.th (§§6, 47.), nuclear power (§§7, 38), peace~naking and reconciliation (§38), globalization (§39), foreign debt (§40), and the environment (§41). The authenticity of the church's "mission of service and love" (§50) will indeed be Review for Religious tested; will it produce "a great harvest of faith . in this vast and vital continent" (§1) of Asia? Gratitude and Optimism Ecclesia in Asia concludes as it began on a clear note of optimism and gratitude. "Blessed be God for the peoples of Asia, so rich in their diversity yet one in their yearning for peace and fullness of life" (§50). With committed faith, "the church in Asia joyfully makes her pilgrim way into the third millennium" (§50). "Mary, model of all disciples and I~right star of evangelization, . . . look tenderly upon the church of your Son planted on Asian soil. ¯ O Mary, mother of the New Creation and mother of Asia, pray for us, your children, now and always!" (§51). In this m6od of gratitude and optimism, the local churches of Asia accept the Holy Father's gift: Ecclesia in ~sia. Its contents are a mixture of the old and the new (see Mt 13:52), a summation of Asian.reflection and insights in the Vatican II era, a presentation of the missionoagenda for Asia's faith communities, a program for evangelization iri the new millennium. All in all, EA is a much-appreciated gift. Its treasures need opening in the coming years and decades; its dream for the church--God's holy people--beckons implementation; its theme--abundant life in Jesus the Savior-- requires contemplative action. Yes, Jesus' Asian disciples affirm that the Holy 'Spirit, who moved upon Asia in times past, "moves now among Asian Christians, strengthening the witness of their faith among the peoples, cultures, and religions of the continent" (§ 18). Contemplating God's salvific deeds and wonders during the Easter Vigil liturgy, the universal chh~ch proclaims in the Exsultet: "Rejoice, O Mother Church!" In similar fashion, th~ local churches in Asia' acclaim 'God's marvels in theirmidst; they joyfully affirm the Asian Synod event as a "celebratory remembering of the Asian roots of Christianity" (§4). They pray that the proclarriation and subsequent internalization of Ecclesia in Asia will confirm the church in her servant mission to bring Christ's love and abundant life On 10:10) to Asia and her peoples. Rejoice, O Asia-Church! .~anua~y-February 2001 vocation PHILIP ARMSTRONG Who Is a Brother? I am not sure the title should ask who. Maybe it should ask: What is a brother? People have been trying to frame an unambiguous answer for ages, and in the meantime new applications of the word brother have compounded the issue. My interest is to define, as best I can, that rare creature in the Roman Catholic Church known as a religious brother. What does the ordinary word brother usually mean today? Looking at that may help us comprehend ,similarities and differences of the term as applied to men who, by the vows of poverty, celibacy, and obedience, commit themselves to what is commonly called religious life. What Is a Brother? Male siblings of the same parents are called brothers. People's close friends who are male are' sometimes compared to a brother: "He's like a brother to me." Sometimes males call one another brother when they do not know the other's name but feel some affinity toward him. The Great Depression is characterized by one of its slogans, "Brother, can you spare a dime?" In some seminary programs a man is addressed as Philip Armstrong CSC, of the Brothers of Holy Cross, wrote on mission and the vows for our September 2000 issue. His address remains P.O. Box 460; Notre Dame, Indiana 46556. Review for Religious Brother, or its Latin form Frater, when he has achieved a certain level of preparation for the ordained priesthood. This use of the term creates confusion over lay/clerical identity. Volunteer organizations may use the term brother in identifying a mentoring relationship between a man and a boy, as in "Big Brothers." African Americans use the term brother to identify males of their race, using the word to indicate the relationship existing by reason of their common African origin and the consequent bonds that solidify them in matters of importance: "One of the brothers sold his house and moved." Some small religious denominations, particularly the more evangelical or those built on sociocultural ties, refer to any male fellow believer as Brother. "Next Sunday Brother Anderson will pass the plate at our service." In the Bible, Jesus uses brother to signify equality among people: "If you are bringing a gift to the altar and remember that your brother has anything against you . " Peter asks, "How often must I forgive my brother?" The terms brother and sister are used generically by church-related personnel in addressing members of the congregation: "My brothers and sisters in Christ." The common thread through all these uses may help us understand, too, why some dedicated men within the Catholic Church are called brothers. There is interpersonal relationship and open trust not based on kinship. The others have the same values, have similar goals, and use the same general methods to achieve their goals. This intangible affinity among brothers (or sisters) does not rely on blood ties yet depends on that relationship to provide a name for this closeness. The substance of such a relationship is: "That man accepts me, confronts me, counsels me, helps me as if I were his own brother." The image of the Good Samaritan comes to mind. Jesus' way of relating with men and women, whether they were righteous or sinful, offers many examples of what it means to be a brother to someone. Simply put, a brother is a man who at all times acts ds a blood brother would act. The Brother in the Church How did the term brother for a vowed religious in the Roman Catholic Church originally surface? Quite likely it arose from relationships in blood families: father, mother, brother, sister. The picture.would include the fact that few were educated as we define education, with those who possessed some "book knowledge" being Janltary-Februaly 2001 Armstron~ ¯ Who Is a Brother? considered natural counselors and mediators. Those representing the people before God and using their knowledge to help them understand and practice their faith could reasonably be called Father, because providing for his family and counseling them are importan~ tasks of the father of a family. Those exercising positions of leadership in communities of vowed women could be called Mother. Those who followed the lead of these fathers or mothers, who assisted; who undertook to fulfill the tasks related to the group's ministries, were called sisters or brothers. Over the years men religious who did not feel called to priesthood, but who assisted clerics in their ministry of preaching, teaching, or sacramental service, were called brothers--like male siblings helping their father do the work of a family farm or business. Help.ers somewhat behind the scenes, they were generally less-educated men doing the more hidden or more mundane and practical tasks connected with the priests' mission of sacred mediation and of education. In time brothers became in people's minds the "hewers of wood and the drawers of water" whose silent and nearly invisible presence was invaluable, essential, though largely taken for granted by the clergy and laity alike. By rule these men remained politically sequestered within their congregations, ha~ing no voice in choosing their leaders and not eligible to become leaders themselves. They prayed much, often apart from their clerical confreres, who in cloister or corridor would pass them by like supportive, exemplary specters. After the social and cultural disruption of the French Revolution, many groups of nonordained but vowed men religious sprang up through the initiative of bishops and parish priests who were in a position to support the development: These apostolic religious were to educate the untutored youth being lost to the church. In contrast to earlier brothers, these men were at least minimally educated and were dedicated to a professional life similar to that of the ordained. For more than a century such groups were formed, and their members went wherever there was a cry for Catholic education, even beyond the borders of their native lands. These became more known to stciety" at large, if not muct~ more visible, by their focus on schools . A concurrent reality that did no favors to many groups of brothers was their unwitting and unplanned gravitation toward ~an identity more clerical than lay. Many brothers, whether as members of laycongregations or as an arm of a clerical community, dressed Review for Religious like clerics and carried out ministries supportive of clerical min-istries. These brothers, nearly indistinguishable from priests, were extended the rights and privileges that a Christian society accorded the priesthood. As a result, a mindset developed among the brothers out of which they identified themselves more with their clerical associate~ than with the laity. It was the laity, though, from a strictly ecclesial perspective, (o whom brothers in fact related more closely. True, they were indeed set apart from the laity by their vowed commitment within a particular congregation approved by Rome. But their external, visible ministries did nothing to project a specific image of brother as distinct from the clerical, patriarchal image they had lived With for so long. "The Terrible Twos" of a Century After World War II and Vatican Council II, both productive of cultural and social upheaval (in a way, the century's "terrible twos"), all vowed religious were challenged to reassess how faithfully their founding purpose and their ministries responded to the newly emerging needs of both church and society and to renew and adapt accordingly. As communities they were to open themselves to the "signs of the times" that hinted at potentially diverging directions in life and mission for vowed religious. Congregations of brothers and mixed congregations (clerics and significant numbers of brothers) found themselves affected by the momentous challenges put before them by the church. Many members departed, fewer young men joined the community, and those who remained grew older, began retiring, and soon were dying unreplaced. These realities were running parallel to the clear and urgent call issued by the Vatican Council to the laity to exert by right a more prominent and active role in the church. Education was one of the first areas affected. As the numbers of brothers declined at a pace impossible to retard, lay people began to fill their places in schools. Along with their declining numbers and increasing age, brothers were suddenly challenged on the level of their profession as teachers and administrators even while they and others were waking to the fact they are not clerics. For brothers the question of the day became: Well, then, who are we, and what is our proper role now in the church and the world? Answers have not come quickly or easily, and some would argue they have not yet come at all. [---3~3-~- January-Februa~. 2001 Armstrong * WlTo Is a Brother? Immense energy has been expended reflecting on, discussing, and determining the identity of the brother for the church today. Some of that energy may have seeped over into trying to determine the brother's role in church and society. In neither case, however, does there appear to be widespread satisfaction with the results, and many retain a confused and hazy notion of the brotherhood as a way of life in the church. It does not help that some of the least informed and articulate on the matter are found among bishops and priests. Worse yet, many brothers cannot adequately define their own identity. The foundations have crumbled on which some based their sense of self-definition. What will it take to pour new and indestructible footings? A Beginning Perhaps a judicious mix of the old and the new is the best place to begin forming a relevant and appropriate definition of a brother in today's church and world. Retaining acknowledged and presumably nonnegotiable hallmarks of the brother's state of life, but blending and refining them in the crucible of postmodern experience, intuition, and prayerful discernment, one might descriptively define a brother somethii~g like this: A brother is a lay religious ¯ committed to living a common life ¯ and consecrated, by public profession of the vows of religion, ¯ to witnessing to the presence of God in his life and in the world. ¯ He reveals his identity more by example than explanation, ¯ more by doing than defining. ¯ In short, he relates and acts like a brother, ¯ to the exclusion of no one.¯ As an equal, ¯ and as supported by like-minded associates in community, ¯ he is free to respond in a variety of practical ways, ¯ living and working fraternally with others ¯ in promoting and preserving human dignity and justice ¯ through his prophetic stance ¯ and professional expertise. The nonnegotiables of this definition consist in identification more with the laity than w~th the clergy;living in community; publicly professing the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience; standing as prophetic witnesses to gospel vaiues; and reaching out in service to others. The postmodern experiential components are: more emphasis on a bold and perceptible expression of what being a brother means from the inside; a clear sense of reaching out to others in need as "brothering" them as a blood brother would; serving others out of a conviction of universal human equality under God; openness to the Review for Religious many forms of ministry to which brothers are free to respond by reason of being unrestrained by the ecclesiastical and cultural expectations imposed on ordained ministers; and, within community parameters, rightly seeking and achieving professional expertise in fields of interest and competence. Postmodern? Experiential? Is this more verbal gimmickry, or do these concepts add something substantial to the recipe for today's brother in the church and the world? I believe that both terms are appropriate and relevant. Postmodern is a term used by historians, sociologists, and anthropologists to refer generally to the period following the lengthy modern era that began in the 1500s and ended in the 1960s with the cultural revolution we in the United States tend to associate with events such as the Vietnam war and anti-establishment protests and also with Vatican II and its aftermath. There is no question that the events and the changed moods and understandings of the final four decades of the 20th century have had an immense impact on religious life, some of it distressingly disruptive, some creatively challenging. Experiential surely applies by reason of the mandate of Vatican II's document Perfectae caritatis and the Norms addressed to religious communities asking them to adapt and update their constitutions and rules as necessary, almost literally "refounding" their congregations. Experimentation through changing or discarding certain anomalous or anachronistic disciplinary elements in religious life was to be permitted for a reasonable time, normally eight to twelve years. The religious garb fell under this category, as did the daily schedule, areas and modes of accountability, the exercise of authority, forms and styles of prayer, and so forth. This experimentation was meant to contribute to a newly framed definition of each congregation's giftedness for today's church. Brothers who persevered in the religious life during these years had to respond creatively to the challenges of the day just to remain faithful to themselves as persons, let alone as religious in community. They were challenged to become more observant of evolving needs in the church and society and to search for w. ays to place their congregation's talents and resoui'ces at the disposal of Many brothers cannot adequately define their own identity. January-February 2001 Armstrong * Who Is a Brother? the church. And they, some for the first time, had to go about this discernment out of a conscious acknowledgment that they were definitely not clerics. Still, if the brothers were not clerics, then who were they? Somewhat as the Christian adolescent needs at some point to confront the faith infused through infant baptism, the postmodern religious brother has had to deal with whatever motivated his entering religious life years ago. It has been a true moment of conversion for him, a fresh confirmation of the validity of his choice of a way of life. Without this process a new sense of identity leading to broader availability would have been impossible for him. Most religious have found this exercise challenging and regenerating, reminding them that they had in fact committed themselves first and foremost not to a structure, not to a profession, not to any particular members within the organization, but to God. Whatever permutations were introduced into the externals over the years, the substantial reality has remained immutably in place, and that is enough. But simply defining one's identity is not enough. Unless conviction and a comfortable acceptance of what it means to be a brother are internalized, there is little hope of either acquiring or cultivating the openness necessary for finding new and challenging directions in mission and ministry, for living community, or for attracting others to embrace the same way of life. What Will It Take? Let me personalize this conversion experience even further, because for each individual brother identity is a matter of deep concern. Unless I can perceive myself as a valid, needed, and effective player of a unique role among many roles in the church, I cannot muster and sustain the conviction that will provide the energy I require both to pursue my way of life and to face the exigencies it inevitably entails. As essential as this perception is, it alone cannot support my efforts. Unless the church, both in its hierarchy and in its wider membership, can be convinced that the brothers' way of life is important for the church and the world, I by myself will be able to do little except go about my daily ministry and life in community in the vague hope that the witness I give to the world is somehow being diffused like a healthy mist settling on persons, places, and Review for Religious events near or far. I could not do this alone. I need help from within the church. Yet, if appropriate authority at even the highest levels is struggling to understand the identity and role of the brother in the church today, from what source will the definition come? Who is the "credible authority" that will provide it? The answer is simple: the brother himself. Why not? We brothers may for the most part not be trained theologians or men steeped in the history and development of the church, the sacraments, and ecclesiastical discipline, but we have a lifetime of experience being brothers that should count for something. We have evolved together with our vocational call, responding to challenges along the way that have forced us to question our identity, or purpose, and our reason for remaining brothers. Our prayer life, presumably "alive and active over the years, has kept us in touch with the One to whose call we have responded daily, and the resulting relationship has, we would hope, matured to the point where we can be at ease with our interpretation not only of who we are as brothers, but of how each of us is personally a witness to the reign of God. why should we not define our own identity and offer it to the institutional church as a valid and authentic interpretation, indeed as a gift? We should--and until we do we will continue to mill about, lost, confused, an.d impotent, within vague definitions of prophetic witness and ministerial service in the church. Until we are perceived by others as relevant and competent and are accepted as equal players on the field of evangelization, we will constitute a "loose cannon" threat to the ecclesiastical bureaucracy and receive little support or affirmation, nor will young men be encouraged who may be considering the lay religious life as a desirable option for their own futures. Why should we not define our own identity and offer it to the institutional church as a valid and authentic interpretation, indeed as a gift ? A Corporate Effort Beyond the effort each brother must exert to clari~ for himself what it means today to be a brother and to fashion a revived sense of January-February 2001 Armstrong * Who Is a Brother? mission based on renewed identity, there remains, I suggest, a need for a corporate endeavor among all brothers to invite, support, and help implement a new era, a "second coming," for men in the lay religious life. Even then it is not brothers alone who must feel responsible for resurrecting both awareness of and interest in the brotherhood. In the Vatican, in the hierarchy of bishops, priests, and deacons, and in the lay membership of the church, a fresh attempt must be made to bring about a renewed understanding of the vital role brothers play in the church as an institution and as the community known as the people of God. Because the truly authentic essence of brotherhood in religious life has to be articulated by brothers, it is they who must be the primary educators, as historically they have been in their numbers since the foundation of their congregations. Ready teachers, of course, must encounter willing students or the lesson will go unlearned and unappreciated, leaving the church and the world the poorer for it. And so brothers must seek and gain the confidence of church authority through their expertise in theologizing about and articulating the experiential essence of the lay religious life. This aim can be achieved through two practical steps. First, the theological reflection, even if informally undertaken, must unfold in a deliberate and orderly manner. Second, a path must be opened, a clear and smooth thoroughfare of effective communication between brothers and the rest of the church. To accomplish .this, good public relations will be required, for brothers have such a history of invisibility and silence that any change, if it attracts attention at all, will tend to create or exacerbate confusion in people, if not suspicion. Brothers must learn how to harness modern communication technologies and get assistance from the media, because the teachers will be implementing the most important lesson plan they have ever devised. Meanwhile. Meanwhile, brothers must continue preparing for their vocational parousia through personal effort at educating themselves to the point of absolute confidence and conviction. Nothing less will succeed in reeducating the church, let alone the world, as to the gift the lay religious life for men is now and can be to the whole of humankind. Out of what definition ought brothers to operate in the Review for Religion, s meantime? I suggest, once again, that the italic passage above on page 34 constitutes a solid working definition, one that incorporates both nonnegotiable expectations of male lay religious and elements that seem essential in a postmodern world. O~r own experience as brothers has confirmed the validity of the definition. Let us at the very least seize its substance and begin the task of refining and developing it. The task is immense and will require every bit of our faith and hope--and our perseverance. Were it not for the One who is author of our faith and our hope and who inspires us to persevere, we would find ourselves in the nearly untenable position of expecting to increase understanding of and enthusiasm for a kind of religious witness and ministry that relates directly to neither the clergy nor the laity. Happily, the God who created the world itself and made life increase and multiply can create new little worlds within it that can grow in understanding and age and grace. It is that possibility in which we place our greatest hope, and it is that God to whom we look for its realization. Postseason Christmas is dismantled again, syncopated lights from shaggy tree transported to basement. It's time to mine the darkness of these shrunken days for fire-feeding coal , and to scan the night skies, each quadrant strung with twinkling lights stretching Christmas hope across the long winter coming. Patricia Schaapp ~M .~anuary-February 2001 DONALD MACDONALD Vocational Being d note about the cleaning and restoration of Sandro Botticelli's Virgin Adoring the Sleeping Christ Child gives an account of the artist, his painting, and its restoration. "[Now we can see] Botticelli's purity of form and color ideally suited to its subject. It is this perfect union of means and meaning that makes the painting so powerful."' To speak of "this perfect union of means and meaning" is superlative praise. In most human endeavor there is a gap between means and. meaning. Achievement hardly ever matches the intention. Brush strokes on canvas, notes from a cello, lines on a page, the lie of a golf ball--rarely do means and meaning synchronize to a person's satisfacfon. Environment and Faith From the perspective of art appreciation, Botticelli is said to have done justice to his subject and himself to an incomparable degree. The power of his painting confirms this, If the union of means and meaning reached such perfection from the artist's view-point, what might be said of his achievement from the perspec-tive of a viewer's faith? What if I, the viewer, adore Christ now in our Lady's company, aware that to paint Christ and the kneeling Virgin does not just capture an abstract ideal, but real people, liv-ing still, to whom I can relate? With dynamic faith I the viewer can be drawn into (not just to) the scene as an integral part of a present Donald Macdonald SMM continues writing about aspects of the reli-gious vocation. His address is Montfort House; Darnley Road; Barrhead, Glasgow; G78 1TA Scodand, U.IC Revie~ for Religious reality. By faith I am at one with the meaning in a way I could never hope to be with just the painter's means. "The purity of form and color ideally suited to its subject" invites and challenges my faith to express itself in reflective ado-ration. The painting directs me to consider what is within me from the viewpoint of faith. The gap between means and meaning is then evident, but so is the inspiration to adore from the center of my being. The beauty of the picture has aesthetic appeal and more, showing what might be if I were fully alert to the wonder of an incarnational faith. I, too, can do what Mary does now, for I am one with her in Christ through baptism. A growing symmetry between means and meaning results in an integrated life. "The beauty of wonder caught in Botticelli's Adoration of the Virgin, reflects what is really there. It may have spectacular appeal to the imagination, but it is not imaginary. Glimpsing this wonder and trying to answer its challenge may suggest consecrated reli-gious life. Do I need to give myself radically, as did Mary, before its wonder compels adoration? Before I adore I must first see and be taken out of myself. This means that I should take note of the environment and any clutter which inhibits insight. Only then can I see what means I have at hand by which I can pursue meaning expressed in adoration. It is neither negative nor defeatist to see in the environment much that is harmful to a life of disciplined faith. The concern for God and neighbor through which authentic faith finds mean-ing lags behind other priorities. Where the current media do not ridicule or dismiss faith, they may actively oppose it whenever they feel threatened by a lived and living faith. There are then no Marquis of Queensberry Rules to govern the fight, and writers, editors, and producers know it. In its many forms--radio, film, TV, internet, print--the media cross continents. Cherished, prac-tical values are often trivialized, and the absence of reticence often coarsens what should be held in great respect. Skillful contempo-rary presentations and inveterate noise may deaden an individual's capacity to respond in wonder to the worldview seen in the Gospels and in Botticelli. Many media movers and shakers "dirty the flower with muddy hands" whenever spiritual or religious values appear on their horizons. A contemporary illustration of this is in a national newspaper correspondent's account of the presentation in London of the Sony Gold Awards for radio broadcasting. "IX] won the music presen- January-February 2001 Macdonald ¯ Vocational Being tation award . By the time he had finished his acceptance speech, he had made half the Great Room of the Grosvenor House long, if not for the grave, then at least for the cool embrace of silence. It wasn't just that he swore. Many people who stepped up that night to receive their awards displayed scan( knowledge of any noun or verb longer than four letters. The effing and blinding was ferocious, the badinage it embellished was desperate . I have sel-dom sat so long and celebrated so little."2 This is not from some drinking den after hours or some adolescent playground, but from a prestigious hotel in a capital city, sponsored by an international company. These are the winners, not the losers, evidendy cocooned in their pei'sonal world, free to pursue their own agendas regard-less of others' feelings. Obviously they succeed, with prizes to prove it. Such behavior coarsens whatever it gets near. The name Jesus Christ in that company is invariably an expletive or a joke. Many feed on that diet and develop a taste for it, and so lack the nour-ishment to grow in Christ. This is a major reason for lack of reli-gious practice generally and for the small number of persons willing to commit themselves to a life of religious consecration. Also, it is something I need to consider if I am to find the means to give myself in adoration through the perspective of faith. How much of this has a claim on me? The evidence of hearing, if I am blessed with it, is that contemporary care to be "politically correct" in speech goes hand in hand with a massive rise in offensive lan-guage, not least among the educated. The coarsening of sensibil-ity by elements of the media makes it harder to find and faithfully use the means to achieve mature meaning as the gospel would have us do. Where no one seems to care, it is no surprise to find that many are careless. I am not made.of stone--how much have I succumbed to this environment? Necessary Means Living in such an environment, I need something practical that can help me maintain a Christian perspective, both encour-aging me and challenging me. IfI have that "something," I have a means for pursuing meaning, the fullness of which, for religious liv-ing, is adoration that engages my whole being. Several practical suggestions could be made, but assimilating Scripture is one that can help, both in judging society and guiding Review for Religious me through it. Scripture, after all, is the accumulated experience of people trying to relate their society to God. More particularly, it was largely the original inspiration behind monastic and reli-gious life. Monastic life began as a statement about contemporary society and the primacy of God. It has been said that God is either 6f sole concern or of no concern. After hearing Scripture speak and then seeing that many contemporary values either opposed or limited the freedom of faith, many persons became aware that they had to cut the cable between themselves and society. Writing of the origin of monastic life in the 4th century, a commentator notes that "what is utterly clear., is the pulsing life the sacred texts give to the daily existence of the early monks. ¯ They serve as a basic frame of reference . In. memorization, rumination, and medita-tion of Scripture, words penetrated the deepest recesses of the soul and created ne~v possibilities and challenges.''3 The Spirit who so energized the word that it came ablaze with meaning and inspiration for those pioneers can do as much for me now if I do some "humble loving listening to him who speaks. It is in fact by the light and with the strength of the word of God that my own vocation can be discovered and understood, loved, and followed and my own mis-sion carried out. So true is this that the person's entire existence finds its unifying and radical meaning in being the terminus of God's word.''4 This is a colossal claim for Scripture, namely, that all strands of life can be brought together, and meaning can be recognized at the depth of my being, if only I am attuned to Scripture. The claim is for ontological meaning in my being's depths. This guar-antees a fusion of means and meaning. Scripture is a superb coun-terweight to much in current society which could keep me from God. As the light of the word slowly dawns, adoration may well be my being's basic response. Perhaps never before in the history of the church has Scripture been available to so many. The means of communication undoubt-edly facilitate this, but this does not mean that, with the media present everywhere, the Christian message is too. In my wide experience of monastic and religious life, home and abroad, for thirty years, I have yet to be convinced that this is so. To what Where no one seems to care, it is no surprise to find that many are careless. .~anuary-February 2001 MacdonhM ¯ Vocational Being 442 degree can we speak of "the pulsing life of the sacred texts" influ-encing consecrated.life generally? How many understand what it is to be "a terminus of the word of God"? I have never forgotten Protestant scholar Frederick C. Grant's comment in 1966 on Dei Verbum, the Vatican Council's Constitution on Divine Revelation: "Why not tell people what joyful discoveries lie before them in the Scriptures, what feasts of learning, what inspiration and encouragement, what sound teach-ing, what help in facing the problems and frustrations of life? As the prophet shouted, 'Ho, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and he who has no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price'" (Is 55:1).s How many individually or collectively "shout" or reflect such enthusi-asm from personal conviction? Here is a superb means to assimi-late meaning, but how many habitually make it their own? Grant's approach may yet be rather new to us. It may take generations before Scripture is sufficiently bedded down among us to produce such results. Scholarship, excellent at the highest level, has perhaps not found a way of enlightening us. Source criticism, form criticism, redaction criticism, reader-response, structural lin-guistics, and so forth make an ever lengthening list; and so people nibble among the commentators and do not get round to assimi-lating the text. In a sad comment on his university studies, a priest spoke of "the acid rain of biblical criticism" and its effect on him vis-a-vis our Lord. If I am hooked already on Scripture and well know what Grant experienced, then current biblical commentaries and journals can help me. Regrettably, though, many of these scholarly materials seem to lack the warmth that could come from a community's fervently.shared faith; they seem not to reflect the wondrous joy that our risen Lord brought to the early church. Has any English writer, for example, during the past twenty years or so, been so fascinated withSt. Paul (man and writer) as to claim failure to do him justice if Paul does not leap from his pages and invade the reader's imagination? This is Richard Holmes's purpose in a superb biography of the poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge. He wants Coleridge's voice to be heard and to domi-nate the book. (His own edition of Coleridge's poetry functioned as ~a controlling influence on the biography.) Holmes serves the poet far better than any Christian writer has served--unless I missed it--St. Paul. In the seminary, not uncommonly, Paul is approached as an Review for Religqous intellectual problem, and the student is made to jump hurdles, to no very clear purpose. Scholars give the impression of seeing Paul as a maverick, like an unconventional student the disapproving examiner never knows how to place: "He is here to be examined, and clearly is not quite one of us!" This is a pity. (Bonhoeffer believed, incidentally, that the Sermon on the Mount could never be lived in a university context.) Paul is, of course, larger than any one pen can capture, but, rooted in Christ and in people and in his own evident humanity, his experi-ence is a genuine way of fusing both means and meaning in an authentically consecrated life. No one seeking inspiration in Scripture need read a line of St. Paul. The Law, the Prophets, and the rest of the Old Testament spread a lavish table. In the Synoptics, the sharp observation to be found in a saying of Christ or in a parable can open up much to me, as can pondering the weight of wonder of a phrase of Christ in John's Gospel. One needs only to experience them to feel their power, to bring means and meaning together. Whatever the form of prayer, wonder in the presence of Who is there is the underlying dynamic. Adoration There can be no one way or best way 'of being a religious. There are presumably as many ways to God as there are human beings called to him. But, as I have suggested, if we need to adore the gift of God in Christ from the core of our being, then we have found meaning. Taken out of myself by what I glimpse in faith, I respond in adoration as well as I can with all that is in me. Much in contemporary society obscures this glimpse, but Scripture can be a countervailing practical means to realize meaning. The church and monastic and religious life have for centuries found their deep-est reality through the Gospels. To adore, I need only to see in faith; then, following the rhythm of my breathing, I give myself to God giving himself to me. This is true, whatever the situation or however I feel. I always return to, though actually I never leave, that center. My being is engaged. The insight is increasingly more simple. Whatever the form of prayer (sacramental, liturgical, community, or individual), ~anuary-Februa~. 2001 Macdonald * Vocational Being wonder in the presence of Who is there is the underlying dynamic. Whatever is said, sung, or signed expresses this. Far from making me a maverick on the edge of a group, adoration invites me to be at one with the church in the worship of Christ. If habitual adoration underlies all I do, I can give myself faith-fully to whatever the present moment asks of me, yet not be taken over by it, since my identity does not depend on what I do or where I am. There is always, in faith, another dimension to real-ity not limited to the frame of circumstance. I function at a sim-ple level, trying t6 be at one with God's will, which, of course, is the purpose of monastic or religious life. In attempting this, I approximate the purity of line and color by which the painter real-izes his meaning. Whatever I am engaged in and whoever is with me, insofar as I adore I can recognize the gift of God and who it is speaking to me. Then, as John's Gospel promises, I can tap into a rich stream. On the other hand, pastoral plans, catechetical pro-grams, and personal apostolates are channels that may be awash by turns with limpid idealism or murky disillusion. If I invest in them, my "salvation" depends on,their success or failure; but, if I give myself to them in the light of adoration, I will receive both pru-dence and courage to persevere faithfully far from the criterion of "what's in it for me." Risen Lord I can summarize these reflections, perhaps, with a comment from M.R. Vincent's preface to his Commentary on St. Paul's Letter to the Philippians. More than one hundred years ago he indicated what might be found in a letter written from prison nineteen hun-dred years earlier. His words are relevant today: "While the char-acter of the epistle is ethical . . . it gives no countenance to resolving the gospel into a mere code of morals. The moral inspi-ration which it represents has its impelling center in a person and a life, not in a code. The personal Christ is its very heart. It exhibits Christ in Paul rather than before him. Christ is not a subject of controversy; he is not simply a pattern of conduct. He is the sum of Paul's life. Th~ view of the resurrection which this letter pre-sents is a standing rebuke to the superficial conception and loose grasp which the church too often brings to that truth. The resur-rection of the.Lord is to Paul a present informing energy and not only a recovery anda hope. He would know the power of the res- Review for Religious urrection now and here as well as hereafter. He not only lives according to Christ's life; he lives it I.n. Christ he is in the sphere of infinite possibilities.''6 Here surely is the fusion of means and meaning. As Paul keeps growing, by Christ's life, into Christ, he breaks out of prison in a letter of encouragement, alive with the light of his risen Lord. Not death itself, the ultimate in defeat and separation, can come between him and his risen Lord, who is for him "a present inform-ing energy and not only a recovery and a hope." The stance of adoration is not that of the self-made individual over against the universe, with a supporting cast of witless nobodies lost on the plains below. Life has "its impelling center in a person and a life" and therefore takes meaning from our once crucified and now risen Lord. In Christ I am lost in the wonder of it all, a new creation in view of whom I see and what I am given moment by moment from before time began. Literally, it beggars description. The silence of adoration, as it deepens, is eloquent though inadequate response. Held by the prese~nce of my risen Lord in every situation not excluding death, I too believe that in Christ I am in the sphere of infinite possibilities. He it is who gives meaning to life. Insofar as I allow him to make me his, I live to some purpose and try to express this in what I do. Assimilating Scripture is a superb means toward such maturity. Speechless adoration from the core of my being may become habitual, in view of the wondrousness of the One I am graced to see. I have not the means to ~:eplicate Botticelli's Adoring Virgin and Child on canvas, but from the per-spective of faith I am awash in that same wonder. Notes ~ National Gallery of Scotland, Edinburgh, 2000. 2 Gillian Reynolds, The Daily Telegraph, London, 9 May 2000. 3 Douglas Burton-Christie, The Word in the Desert: Scripture and the Quest for Holiness in Early Christian Monasticism (Oxford University Press, 1993), pp. 298-299. 4 John Paul II, Pastores dabo ~obis (On the Formation of Priests in the Circumstances of the Present Day), 25 March 1992, §47. s Walter M. Abbott SJ, ed., The Documents of Vatican H (Chapman, 1966), pp. 130-131. 6 M.R. Vincent, Critical and Exegetical CommentaTy on the Ep#tles to the Pbilippians and to Philemon (Edinburgh: T. and T. Clark, 1897). January-February 2001 MARY ANNE FOLEY Spirituality for Mission: Marguerite Bourgeoys and ¯the Ignatian Tradition spiritual legacy In the 16th century the Society of Jesus represented an innovation in consecrated life for men, differing in struc-ture and aim from both monastic and mendicant forms and supported by Ignatius's approach to contemplation and action. Ignatian spirituality appealed also to women seeking a life of service outside the cloister, and Jesuit influence is apparent in the formation of women's com-munities as varied as the Institute of the Blessed Virgin Mary and the Sisters of St. Joseph in the 17th century and the Religious of the Sacred Heart in the 19th. By contrast, when Marguerite Bourgeoys (1620- 1700) was founding the Congregation de Notre-Dame de Montreal in the latter part of the 17th century, her closest collaborators were not Jesuits; they were Sulpicians, other diocesan priests, and women like Madame de Miramion who were forming similar com'- munities. As a result the congregation is usually seen as a product of the so-called French school of spirituality? Mary Anne Foley CND, who discussed women's commu-nities in our July-August 2000 issue, wrote this article.for the 300th anniversary of the death of Marguerite Bourgeoys. After translation by E Richer, it first appeared as "Spiritualitfi pour la mission: Marguerite Bourgeoys et la tradition ignatienne" in Cahiers de spiritualit~ ignatienne (April-June 2000, pp. 79-91). Her address is University of Scranton; Scranton, Pennsylvania 18510. Review for Religious The congregation's spirituality, however, as seen in the writings of its foundress, reveals considerable affinity with Ignatian spiri-tuality. We shall ~xplore those parallels, but first a word about the congregation's origins is in order. From Marguerite Bourgeoys's perspective, the congregation began in her own experience of transformation at the age of twenty, occasioned by her gazing at a statue of Mary. As a result of this "conversion," as she calls it, she joined a group of laywomen asso-ciated with the cloistered Congregation de Notre-Dame in her native Troyes and chose Antoine Jendret, the local pastor, as her spiritual advisor. From Jendret she learned to see the "vie voyagkre" (missionary life) of the Blessed Virgin as a model for uncloistered religious life for women. At the same time, the congregation sis-ters trained her to teach children who could not attend their monastery school and shared with her their enthusiasm for estab-lishing a monastery in New France. Paul Chomedey de Maisonneuve, brother of the congregation's superior and governor of the new settlement ofVille-Marie (Montreal), recognized the impossibility of establishing a monastery there at that time. Instead, he requested a single lays. oman to serve as teacher, and Marguerite agreed to go in that capacity. When she arrived in 1653, Ville-Marie was a small settlement, precarious both geographically and financially. It had been estab-lished eleven years earlier by an association of pious men and women in France who hoped to incorporate French and native people into a Christian society, thus creating a spirited church in the New World. Among the associates was Jean-Jacques Olier, founder and first superior of the Sulpicians. Unable to go him-self, he sent four members of his society to Ville-Marie in 1657 to establish its first parish. As "filles de paroisse" (women of the parish) Marguerite and the women who would soon join her were thus greatly influenced by the Sulpicians of Ville-Marie. Moreover, from Paris the third superior of the Society, Louis Tronson, was actively involved in decisions concerning the congregation and proved one of their staunchest advocates) In 1659 four recruits came from France to share Marguerite's simple, mobile way of life and her educational commitment in imi-tation of Mary's vie voyag~re. Over the course of the century, more than fifty women--native, French, and native-born French--joined this new Congregation de Notre-Dame, extending its reach from Ville-Marie to Quebec and beyond. Marguerite served as supe- January-Febr~ary 2001 rior until 1693, providing spiritual as well as practical leadership. Among her relatively few extant writings are several prayers and numerous reflections on the nature of the congregation, most of which appear to be conference notes of varying lengths. Brief and fragmentary though these texts are, they provide interesting glimpses of the spirituality that informed the congregation she founded.3 Gathering Up the Drops of Christ's Blood A brief, isolated passage in Marguerite Bourgeoys's writings presents a forceful description of the source, characteristics, and aim of the sisters' missionary activity: Consider, dear, that when you go on mission you go to gather up the drops of the blood of Jesus Christ that are being lost. How happy a sister who is sent on mission will be if she considers that she goes there at God's command and in his company, if she considers that in this work she can and ought to show her gratitude to him from whom she has received all things. Oh, she will find nothing difficult or burdensome at all! She will, on the contrary, wish to be in want of every-thing, to be despised by everyone, to endure all sorts of suffering, and even to die in disgrace. (W'W!B, 78) This passage may well represent the words with which Marguerite Bourgeoys invited the sisters to go forth from the central house in Ville-Marie to missions all over New France. Her description of the congregation's aim as "gathering up the drops of the blood of Jesus Christ that are being lost" is strongly reminiscent of a phrase employed by Paul Le Jeune sJ, superior of the Jesuit mission in Canada. In a letter written to his superior in France in 1633 and later published and widely disseminated, he attempted to persuade wealthy women in France to support the creation of a school for native women in New France: If they applied part [of their income] to gather the drops of blood of the Son of God shed for so many souls that are lost every day for la~k of help, they would not blush with shame on the day they appear before God to render an account of the goods for which he has made them responsible.4 Two years later he renewed the request, exclaiming, "What glory in the sight of the angels, to have gathered the blood of the Son of God to apply it to these poor unbelievers! "s Review for Religious What is particularly striking is that for Le Jeune the "gather-ing" was to be accomplished by women who worked for the edu-cation of other women. Initially he suggested that the school be run by "some good courageous widow assisted by two brave young women."6 By 1635, however, numerous women in French monas-teries, "overcoming the fear natural to their sex," had offered to come to educate native women and girls. This led Le Jeune to alter his original plan and to ask that a French benefactor endow a monastery whose members would carry out the work of educa-tion: "Will not some brave lady be found to give these Amazons of the great God a passport, endow-ing them with a house in which to praise and serve His Divine Majesty in this other world?"7 Madame de la Peltrie responded to that request, and the Ursuline monastery was soon founded in Quebec as a result. Marguerite Bourgeoys's writ-ings never indicate that she read Paul Le Jeune's letters, but, given the sisters' interest in the Canadian missions, she very likely did so during her association with the Congregation de Notre-Dame in Troyes. Thus, his use of the image of gathering Christ's blood probably influenced her directly. Furthermore, although there were no Jesuits in Ville-Marie from 1657 until the end of the century, she may also have been influenced indirecdy by their approach to missionary activity through her continued con-tact with Jesuits in Quebec. Although Marguerite Bourgeoys may consciously or uncon-sciously have adopted Le Jeun~'s metaphor for mission, she mod-ified it in several ways. In the first place, she used the word ramasser, instead of recueillir, with respect to what was to be done with the drops of blood. There is a difference of nuance here. The former term suggests picking up scattered bits and pieces, and the latter suggests taking in a unified quantity (such as a harvest),s This difference in vocabulary may not be particularly significant in itself,9 but another passage from the Writings makes it clear that for her the mission of education did indeed involve gathering up the individual drops of Christ's blood: "When you go on mission you go to gather up the drops of the blood of Jesus Christ that are being lost." January-Febr~ary 2001 Fole~ ¯ Spirituali.ty_for Mission It is work suited to draw down the graces of God if it is done with purity of intention, without distinction between the poor and the rich, between relatives and friends and strangers, between the pretty and the plain, the easy-going and the grumblers, looking upon them all as drops of our Lord's blood. (W'MB, 201) Where Le Jeune had used the imagery of gathering the blood to describe specifically the education of the native women and chil-dren, here it seems to refer to all the individuals taught by the sis-ters. (By the time these lines were written, in the 1590s, they were probably teaching few native children.) If all these individuals are the drops of Christ's blood, they must be treated as sacred objects. Teaching, then, becomes a holy activity, since it brings the sisters in close contact with those sacred objects. Second, Marguerite underlined the urgency of the sisters' mis-sion by the way she extended the metaphor of the drops of blood. Le Jeune remarks that the souls of "these poor unbelievers" for whom Christ's blood has been shed are being lost; Marguerite Bourgeoys suggests that the drops of Christ's blood themselves are being lost. So important is this to her understanding that we may interpret her as going beyond mere metaphor in her reference to the drops of blood. Since the writing of the first Letter to the Corinthians, Christian theologians have often spoken of the bap-tized as constituting the body of Christ in a real, though mystical sense. For Marguerite Bourgeoys, those who needed to learn of Christ's teachings were his blood in that same mystical sense,l° Rather than allow even one drop of that blood to be wasted, a sis-ter would travel anyw.here she was sent and endure whatever was necessary for the mission. Indeed, the act of teaching was both sacred and urgent. A prayer for the congregation written on 4July 1693, at the end of her extended service as the community superior, reveals the con-nection she saw between the sisters' mission and the passion of Christ. Declaring that her trust was not in her own powers, she tells God: "I base my trust on the merits of the precious blood given for my ransom, and with your grace I would rather give up life itself than fail to uphold the truth of your words" (W-M!~, 163). Her willingness to lose her life in order to make Christ's teachings known recalls the desire "to endure all sorts of suffering and even to die in disgrace," which she claimed was characteristic of the sis-ter who traveled on mission in God's company. Her belief that the Review for Religious missionary congregation sisters would desire to suffer in the course of their mission echoes a passage from the Spiritual Exercises of Ignatius Loyola describing "the most perfect kind of humility" pos-sible for one who has decided to follow Christ: Whenever the praise and glory of the Divine Majesty would be equally served, in order to imitate and be in real-ity more like Christ our Lord, I desire and choose poverty with Christ poor, rather than riches; insults with Christ loaded with them, rather than honors; I desire to be accounted as worthless and a fool for Christ, rather than to be esteemed as wise and prudent in this world. So Christ was treated before me.~ As was true for Ignatius, Marguerite Bourgeoys believed the source of missionary activity for the congregation sister to be a call from the God "from whom she has received all things." Her missionary work is thus a grateful response to God's initiative: "She goes there at God's command." If the sister's mission comes from a divine invitation, then her going will be "in his company." The implication is that going on mission is a way for her to be present to God, a way of participating in God's activity, and hence a way of becoming holy. This is why she should be able to view any deprivation that she suffers in the course of her mission as a pos-itive advantage. "To be in want of everything, to be despised by everyone, to endure all sorts of suffering, and even to die in dis-grace" is to enter more profoundly into the way of Christ, whose mission was characterized by the shedding of his blood. Imitating Mary's Vie Voyag~re While the desire to gather up the drops of Christ's blood pro-vided motivation for the sisters' mission of education, Marguerite turned elsewhere for a way to depict their way of exercising that mission: the life Mary led on earth. The 17th century was remarkable for widespread and intense devotion to Mary, notably among the members of what has been called the French school of spirituality. In order to emphasize the greatness of God's working in her, they tended to focus on Mary's humility, dwelling on both the poverty of her origins and her hum-ble willingness to serve as the future mother of God. Furthermore, their insistence on the paradoxical juxtaposition of the "grandeurs" of Jesus in the midst of his humiliations led Cardinal de B~rulle and January-February 2001 Foley ¯ SpiritnalityforMission For Marguerite Bourgeoys the primary form of devotion to Mary was to honor her vie voyag re, her missionary life. his followers to reflect at length on the life of Jesus in Mary's womb. This is apparent in Olier's prayer "O Jesu vivens in Maria" and in their reflections on the Word's action in Mary's visitafon to Elizabeth. The visitation became central to Marguerite Bourgeoys's spirituality, as shall be seen; she shared as well the French school's emphasis on Mary's "littleness" which enabled her to become the instrument of God's power. While her version of the life of Mary reflects many of the the-ological concerns of her day, some of her contemporaries might have been puzzled by its omissions and even more by its focus. She refers very briefly to what most consider the two central moments in Mary's life, Jesus' nativity and his cru-cifixion. She merely notes that the circumstances of Christ's birth reveal Mary's love of poverty and the poor and that her presence at Calvary reveals her faithfulness, her accep-tance of God's plan of redempfon. In writings no longer available to us, she may have said more, but, given the detail she provides about other events in Mary's life, Marguerite's lack of attention to the nativity and crucifixion is at least suggestive. In contrast to B4rulle, for example, the brevity of her comments and the absence of sentimentality are quite striking. Even more striking is her focus on Mary's activity, rather than her passivity. Certainly she portrays Mary as the recipient of divine favor: God chose her, preserved her from sin, and made her Mother Of God and then Queen of heaven. But Marguerite pays far more attention to what Mary did. She shows her teaching and serving the other girls in the temple and making a vow of virginity. At the time of the annunciation, we see Mary imploring, preparing her-self, consenting, and offering herself to God. After that event she visits Elizabeth, gives birth to Jesus, receives shepherds and kings, and loses and. finds her child. Having witnessed Christ's teachings and keeping them in her heart, she teaches and encourages people during his public life, and afterwards she forms and reforms the members of the Christian community, even after her death, up to the present time. Review for Religious This focus on Mary's activity is in keeping with the advice Marguerite Bourgeoys gave her sisters: "To imitate our dear Foundress, we ought to go through her life and stop at what our Lord inspires us to do" (WMB, 52). In this emphasis she differed somewhat from the French school, for whom devotion took the form of reflecting on the eternal--and internal--"states" of Christ's and Mary's lives in order to enter those states oneself. Thus, even though he considered Mary a model of priestly and apostolic activ-ity, Jean-Jacques Olier still advocated above all a devotion to the "interior life" of Mary. The French school has in this respect been contrasted with Ignatius Loyola, whose Spiritual Exercises involve meditating on the words and particularly the actions of God, Christ, and the saints in order to imitate them.~2 While Marguerite Bourgeoys's random reflections are far different from the highly structured meditations of the Exercises, her focus on Mary's activity is more Ignatian than Berullian. Her approach to the life of Mary, however, was not that of many early-17th-century Jesuit writers, who cul-tivated a highly imaginative form of popular devotion that focused on the details of Mary's life. They were accused, not always unfairly, of promoting an exaggerated devotion to Mary that at times superseded the need for fidelity to the commandments.'3 For Marguerite Bourgeoys and for the congregation sisters, the primary form of devotion to Mary was honoring her vie voyag~re, her missionary life: M. Jendret told me one day that our Lord had left three call-ings for women to follow him and serve the church: that of St. [Mary] Magdalen was taken up by the Carmelites and other recluses and that of Saint Martha, by cloistered reli-gious who serve their neighbor; but the calling to the jour-neying life of the Virgin Mary, which needed to be honored, had not yet been taken up." (WMB, 142) Elsewhere she explains that because Mary was a teacher she incorporated the lives of both Martha and Mary Magdalen into her own: "The blessed Virgin, who was a teacher, included every-thing in her own person to an eminent degree" (WMB, 77). This depiction of Mary's "mixed" active and contemplative life was not original to Jendret,14 but he may have been the first to apply that analogy to women's communities. Nor was it common to speak of her vie voyag?re. Ordinarily the phrase refers to Christians who are still living on earth, as opposed to those who ffanuary-Februa~y 2001 Fole~ ¯ Spirituali~forMission have passed on to glory or purification--and sometimes to the public life of Jesus.~s For many 17th-century spiritual writers, this earthly, transitory, active aspect of Christ's or Mary's life was less inspiring and worthy of attention than their enduring states. By their attention to Mary's vie voyag~re, then, Antoine Jendret and Marguerite Bourgeoys presented an alternative approach to one of the central symbols of holiness in the Christian tradition. That approach had very concrete implications for the little congregation in Ville-Marie. In order to fulfill their educative mis-sion throughout New France, the sisters had to remain free to move wherever there was need. However, because holiness was most often identified with separation from "the world," and because of women's supposed fragility, ecclesiastical legislation during much of Christian history sought to protect consecrated women by insisting that they remain behind cloister walls. Indeed, the two first bishops of New France attempted to impose cloister on the congregation by urging their union with the Ursulines of Quebec. Marguerite Bourgeoys's response was to point to Mary: "The Blessed Virgin was never cloistered. She did indeed retire into an interior solitude, but she never excused herself from any journey on which there was some good to be done or some work of charity to be performed. We wish to follow her in some way" (WMB, 50). Without calling into question the value of life within a clois-ter, this .passage suggests that for Mary, and for those who wish to live her missionary way of life, love of neighbor can constitute a higher value. Clearly Marguerite shared the traditional view that this sort of uncloistered vie voyagkre could be dangerous, but she believed that those who imitated Mary's way of life would be pro-tected by an "interior solitude" and by their union with God in prayer. Dangerous or not, if Mary's work of building up the church by educating its women was to continue, then it was not only pos-sible but necessary for some women to follow her way of life. The Visitation Traditionally the sisters of the congregation renew their vows on the Feast of the Visitation. This suggests that for them Mary's visit to her cousin Elizabeth (Lk 1:39-52) is paradigmatic of their desire to become holy by going forth as missionaries. During the 17th century, however, the visitation was not nec-essarily associated with women who remained free to move out in Review for Religious order to serve their neighbor. In a reflection first published in 1679, the Capuchin Louis-Francois d'Argentan interpreted Mary's going up into the hill country as a reference to her ascent to God through contemplation and her willingness to share in God's redemptive plan. In this presentation, Mary is essentially passive in the encounter with Elizabeth, simply allowing the Word within her to speak in her.voice. D'Argentan suggests that during the visit Mary manifests humility by helping with household tasks, ardent charity (which he does not discuss further), and the way to engage in holy conversation with the neighbor. For him the ulti-mate fruit of reflection on the visitation is making "powerful resolutions to love seclusion, silence, and solitude, scorning all the rest so as to be attentive only to what is necessary, that is to say, to God alone and to the great matter of our eternity.''6 Such an interpretation of the visitation was not foreign to Marguerite Bourgeoys's thought. She too was convinced that Mary loved and was a model of soli-tude- but also was a model of conversation with others--and that the most important aspect of her encounter with Elizabeth was God's action in sanctifying the unborn John the Baptist. Nonetheless, here as always, Marguerite Bourgeoys's attention remained focused on Mary's activity and its effects. Moreover, her interpretation of that activ-ity contrasts with that of d'Argentan and even Francis de Sales, cofou

Issue 54.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1995. ; Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Mis'souri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 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 ¯ P.O. Box 29260 ° Washington, DC 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1995Review 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 com~nercial 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. for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read Joann Wolski Conn PhD Iris Ann Ledden SSND Joel Rippinger OSB Edmundo Rodriguez SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JULY-AUGUST 1995 ¯ VOLUME54 ¯ NVUMBER4 contents 486 499 5O8 mission Twenty Inner-City Years Joanna Bramble, CSJ explores feelings, questions, and insights from her effort to revitalize an inner-city neighborhood and empower its people. Corporate Sponsorship: The 1990s and the Fruits of Our Labor Margaret MaW Knittel RSM raises some questions which suggest a fluidity of vision and a loosening of ties in regard to corporate sponsorship and the fruits of our labor. Retirement's Wisdom Years Catherine M. Harmer MMS proposes that retirement for religious may be a time of deepening wisdom and individuation and a time for a greater spirituality to emerge. 519 531 guidance The Enneagram Tad Dunne examines understandings of the enneagram and suggests ways of moving to a larger world of meaning and values. Imaging Spiritual Direction Mary Vginifred CHS discusses guidelines for spiritual direction and presents three images illustrative of the relationship between director and directee. 535 56O heritage The Brazier That Is My God: Teresa on True Prayer's Dispositions, Gifts, and Signs Mary C. Sullivan RSM highlights the prayer of personal conversion wi{h its many gifts as captured by Teresa of Avila in her rich metaphor of "dwelling places." Playing with Edged Tools Donald Macdonald SMNI allows the thought of John Henry Newman to enter us into a richer appreciation of vowed public profession as a part of radical gospel living. 482 Review for Religious spirituality 566 How Am I Doing? Signs of a Healthy Spirituality Melannie Svoboda SND suggests some indicators for checking on how healthy our spirituality is. 573 Appreciating God through Creation Roderick Payne OFM illuminates the heritage of St. Francis to draw attention to some aspects of prayer through creation. 585 589 594 6OO religious life Individualism and Rel!gious Life John Gallagher CSB reflects on three options dealing with the compatibility of contemporary individualism in relation to religious life. Psychological Screening for Religious Life Kevin E. McKenna reviews the help given by the Code of Canon Law for religious congregations attempting to form a consistent policy regarding psychological reports at the time of admission and the maintenance of personnel records. Reformulating the Religious Vows William Reiser SJ reviews the meaning of vows in religious life and suggests that an option for the poor might be a promise for our times. Let's Talk Again about Poverty Richard J. DeMaria CFC probes the meaning of poverty for religious-life practice today. ¯departments 484 Prisms 615 Canonical Counsel: Cloister for Nuns: From the Early Centuries to the 1917 Code 622 Book Reviews ~tuly-August 1995 483 prisms Pope John Paul's two recent docu-ments offer vision and direction: the apostolic letter Orientale lumen (The Light of the East) and the encyclical Ut unum sint (On Commitment to Ecumenism). More than helps to enter into the third millennium, they issue a call to conversion. In Orientale lumen the pope emphasizes that our Eastern Catholic and our Orthodox brothers and sisters are earnest bearers of a venerable and ancient tradition integral to the church's heritage. He calls for all members of the church's Latin tradition to become fully acquainted with this treasure. He desires us all to be fired by a pas-sionate longing that the church's catholicity become man-ifest to church members themselves and to the world, a catholicity comprising the several traditions together rather than in opposition to one another. John Paul uses monasticism as a special vantage point from which we can identify values important today for expressing the contribution of the Christian East to the journey of Christ's church towards the kingdom. In the East, monasticism, which did not experience the differ-ent kinds of apostolic life as in the West, is seen not merely as a separate category of Christians, but rather as a refer-ence point for all the baptized, according to the gifts offered to each by the Lord. John Paul singles out the common traits uniting the monastic experience of the East and the West and forming a bridge of fellowship, "where unity as it is lived shines even more brightly than may appear in the dialogue between the churches." lie empha-sizes the splendid witness of nuns in the Christian East: "This witness has offered an example of giving full value in the church to what is specifically feminine, even break- 484 Review for Religious ing through the mentality of the time. During recent persecu-tions, especially in Eastern European countries, when many male monasteries were forcibly closed, female monasticism kept the torch of the monastic life burning. The nun's charism, with its own specific characteristics, is a visible sign of that motherhood of God to which Sacred Scripture often refers" (9). Among the values reflected in monasticism for the life of the church, the pope highlights 1) a balance in Christian life lived as a personal response to an individual call and as an ecclesial and community event; 2) a liturgy revealing the proper harmony of the baptized-in-Christ and the eucharistic meaning of all creation; 3) a maturing journey in terms of knowing self and being free and able to love as Jesus loves; 4) a tradition of spiritual guidance from brothers and sisters to whom the Spirit has granted this gift; 5) a community showing us a life of communion and service beginning in the family and extending to the wider community; 6) a unity of theology and spirituality deriving from the triune God--the principle and foundation of the Christian understand-ing that the human person is meant for and made for relation-ship; and 7) an all-pervading mystery, enveloped in awe, with which the face of our God presents us. In still wider ways the encyclical Ut unum sint continues the call to deepen the unity we seek with one another and with God. Insisting that the unity of all Christians is God's will and is at the heart of the mission Christ entrusted to his followers, John Paul begs forgiveness for times when Catholics and the papacy itself have contributed to the divisions among Christians and calls for discussion about ways in which the pope can exercise power and authority in a reunited church. He notes that a heritage of saints belonging to all communities provides hope for the dialogue of conversion. "When we speak of a common heritage, we must acknowledge as part of it not only the institutions, rites, means of salvation and the traditions which all the communities have pre-served and by which they have been shaped, but first and foremost this reality of holiness" (84). The urgency of building for the future out of the strengths of Christian heritages marks both of these papal writings. We, like the pope, need to set our sights on this unifying and evangelizing mission of all Christians, thereby living up to religious life's own spiritual heritages. David L. Fleming sJ a~uly-August 1995 485 rnissJon JOANNA BRAMBLE Twenty Inner-City Years After almost twenty years of working towards the revital-ization of West Oakland, a depressed inner-city neigh-borhood, I took a year's sabbatical of travel and spiritual enrichment. In the middle of that year, I decided not to return as director of Jubilee West, the Community Development Corporation I had helped to create. I real-ized that I had unresolved feelings about my years in West Oakland, feelings and questions that I needed to work through before I could move on to the next steps in my work for justice. The reflections below document my liv-ing with those questions. What are my usual feelings about Jubilee West? I feel proud of what it has accomplished, but often I feel deep sadness for the people whose lives have changed very lit-tle, especially the ones I knew well and tried the hardest to help. I feel deep sadness at the unemployment, the drugs, the depressed people, and the piles of garbage that are evident with only a brief drive through the neighbor-hood. I often have an overwhelming sense of failure and powerlessness: so much of my life, love, work, anxiety, joy, hope . . . and so many people still with such con-stricted lives! I feel sadness and grief that the neighbor-hood where I worked for so long was worse after twenty Joanna Bramble CSJ is a consultant to nonprofit organizations in management and program analysis and a member of the provincial council of the Los Angeles province of the Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondelet. Her address is 529 Jean Street; Oakland, California 94610. 486 Review for Religious years than it was before. It is not that our work did not change anything or made it worse; it just could never do enough. But the main cause of continuing disintegration in that neigh-borhood is not my and others' lack of effort or creative ideas. It is high unemployment and the increasing sale and use of drugs, along with other systemic oppression. How do I keep aware of the interrelatedness of many situations and people and things and somehow see my place as both important and unimportant? What was the situation I came to in 1973? And what did I want to achieve? The 1970 census and the Oakland 701 Study gave the following statistics about the West of Cypress area: ¯ 80 percent black and 18 percent Mexican American ¯ median family income: $3,941 ¯ unemployment rate 26.3 percent for men, 35.7 percent for women ¯ 50 percent of families on welfare; mean welfare income $2,110 ¯ 90 percent of the houses had been expected to be unusable by 1969 (most of these houses are still standing in 1995) ¯ median number of school years completed: 8.4 ¯ 24 percent of people over twenty-five years of age were high school graduates Residents listed their major problems as limited incomes and a high rate of unemployment, extremely poor housing, and poor-quality education. All of these problems still exist and are complex and interrelated. I chose to come to this depressed environment from eleven years of teaching English in white, suburban Catholic high schools. I had interest, concern, compassion, energy, enthusiasm, high hopes . . . and two months of training in community orga-nizing. I remember walking through the neighborhood and mentally singing the words to "Anatevka" from Fiddler on the Roof, newly popular then. The song speaks of the nothingness of the town: "people who pass through Anatevka do not even know they have been here., someone should have set a match to this place years ago." That is what West Oakland looked like to me. But the song goes on to describe Anatevka as home: "where else could Sabbath be so sweet., where I know everyone I meet." That too was West Oakland. It did not take me long to get to know friendly people, many of whom had lived there for years. I walked the streets and .~ly-August 199~ 487 Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years sat in people's kitchens to discuss neighborhood problems. Soon some longtime residents and I started the West Oakland Improvement Association. What did I want to achieve? Mainly, I did not want a repeat of Anatevka; I did not want people displaced to make room for gentrification or other forms of development. In 1974 I wrote that my major goal was to help increase the peo-ple's awareness of their power to direct their own lives. Over the next twenty years, I became more deeply aware of the immense problems in people's lives and in the physical neigh-borhood. What I wanted to do both stayed the same and evolved, as did the strategies we used. Always there was the goal of empow-erment. As a community organizer I wanted us to win on issues that people had chosen as urgent concerns. More importantly, I wanted to build an organization that could continue to empower people and revitalize the neighborhood. We won on many issues. Our victories brought pride and increased self-confidence to a number of neighborhood people. But building an organization never really happened. People seemed too concerned with per-sonal survival to stay involved very long. It became more and more difficult to talk with people about community problems when they were concerned with getting enough food for their kids, paying the rent, and dealing with drug problems. These survival issues prompted me and my good friend Sister Pat Sears to start St. Patrick's Center at the Campbell Village Housing Project, where we saw to basic necessities, providing food, clothes, counseling, and a youth program. But decent afford-able housing remained the most urgent problem. Concern about people who were being displaced or were living in substandard housing, inspiration from Jubilee Housing in Washington, D.C., lots of participation from neighborhood people and suburban friends, and awillingness to step into the unknown with faith and hope led me and Pat to start Jubilee West as a nonprofit Community Development Corporation in 1980. We immediately began to buy and fix houses for poverty-level people even though we knew nothing about real estate or construction and had almost no money. Jubilee West also continued and expanded the com-munity services and youth programs begun at St. Patrick's Center. What successes can Jubilee West celebrate over the last fifteen years? Eighty units of scattered-site housing, most of it perma-nently affordable to poverty-level families: five million dollars in property assets removed from speculation and able to be con- 488 Review for Religious trolled by the community far into the future; hundreds of children helped with tutoring and enrichment; many others helped with mentoring and private scholarships to attend college; hundreds of adults placed in jobs, coming to literacy and ESL classes, or receiv- .ing emergency food, clothing, and needed counseling; and an his-toric building rehabilitated to accommodate various community events and to house the offices for other services. When I left, Jubilee West had a committed board of directors, a staff of varying degrees of competence, and a good funding base, although financial crises were and continue to be frequent. So why do I frequently feel like a failure? Mainly because I very much wanted to do something "for the people in the houses" more than just fixing houses and lowering rents and because I feel that most people's lives are not changed very much from what they were before. As I grew to know West Oakland people, I came to be most concerned about what I experienced as the "typical" resident. She is a woman about thirty years old, never mar-ried, with three or four children from different fathers. She has about a tenth-grade education, has never held a paying job, has very poor nutrition, and probably has an alcohol or drug problem. If she is not in JW housing or other subsidized housing, she may pay as much as 60 or 70 percent of her AFDC income in rent, leaving her less than $200 per month for all other expenses. She has no car, and so her experiences and those of her children are mostly limited to the West Oakland neighborhood. She appears depressed and apathetic or else quite hostile. So what did I wantJW to do for this woman? I wanted us to empower her to enrich her own life. What did I mean by this? How would I hope to be able to describe her after a .few years? I have thought a lot about my hopes for her, and I recently became aware that they are similar to my unrealistic goals for myself: As I grew to know West Oakland people, I came to be most concerned about what I experienced as the "typical" resident. She is a woman about thirty years old, never married, with three or four children from different fathers. .~uly-/lugust 199~ 489 Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years I want her to have succeeded in or be in the process of get-ting off drugs, getting more education, finding a job and then a better job, stabilizing her family, getting enough income to move out of subsidized housing, deepening her spiritual values, becoming more psychologically whole, building community with her neighbors, keeping her house clean, taking care of her kids, and working for change in the neighborhood through participating in JW and other organizations. I want her to stay in the neighborhood or come back after she succeeds in order to help the commu-nity work for justice. As I write this, it seems so unrealistic that I want to add face-tiously that she should also be thin and beautiful, but not care too much about her looks. Obviously, one reason I feel like a fail-ure is that I had very unrealizable expectations. Only a few peo-ple could achieve the hbove, and only with superhuman effort or lots of good luck. I wanted my "typical" person to be aware of her power to change and control her own life. That sounds like a good goal. But perhaps my biggest mistake was that I did not give enough conscious acknowledgment to the reality of systemic oppression. When she tries to change in other than very small ways, she runs up against huge obstacles that make it exceedingly difficult if not impossible for her to "control her own life." Only a few really "win" in her situation; but, because those few do win, she feels that she too should be able to win. She blames herself and society also blames her, telling her in many ways that it is her fault. In some ways I contribute to this when I talk about "self-help" without at the same time talking about systemic oppres-sion. Her self-blame does not give her more energy to "fight the system" and to make small and then larger changes in her life; instead it leads to depression, apathy, or hostility. Similarly my self-blame, my feeling myself a failure for not being able to empower her, does not give me more energy to fight the system; in me also it leads to depression, apathy, and sometimes hostility. Issues of injustice in economics, politics, and education are profoundly interrelated. A minimum wage that inserts working people into the poverty level without enough money to pay the rent, a business economy dependent on a certain percent of unem-ployment, thousands of job layoffs so that even many people with good educations are unlikely to keep their jobs that pay a living wage, unjust distribution of wealth including "hidden" subsidies 490 Review for Religious for the rich (whereby more money is "spent" on tax write-offs for interest on home-ownership loans than on all the housing programs for the poor), drug traffic that brings huge profits to a few wealthy people, a welfare system that discourages work, the worst schools usually in the poorest areas, housing thought of as an investment for profit rather than a home to live in, pervasive discrimination against minorities, especially African-American males--these are only a few examples of the interconnected sys-tems that cause my "typical" person's situation. I have known all this for a long time. Did I fail to keep it in my awareness because I felt I could do little about it and I like solvable problems? In any case, I concentrated on self-help pro-grams-- how soon I found that often they do not succeed either! Each person in any self-help program must "choose life" for her-self, of course, and begin to act on her own behalf while at the same time society, "the system," must stop oppressing her. Both are interrelated. But as I reflected on my Jubilee West experience, I still heard the same familiar inner voices of my own self-blame. If only I had been smarter, worked harder, tried something more creative, then I could have made a bigger dent in solving these problems. At this point I was fortunate to come across the book Surplus Powerlessness by Michael Lerner. Lerner first talks about real pow-erlessness, the reality of an unequal distribution of power in this society: If a small number of us try to change things, we will run up against a brick wall. In fact, even if millions of people were to engage in activity to change things, in the short run we would find our society very difficult to change. The brick wall is not just a subjective illusion. The basic fact is this: American society is a class-dom-inated society. A small number of people have vast eco-nomic power while the overwhelming.majority has almost no power in the economic realm. Economic power gives that small group a huge amount of political power. While the rest of us have some political power, it takes vast expen-ditures of energy and time to win small victories. But to say that the elites of wealth and power have over-whelming power is not to say that they have absolute power. Things could be quite different if many people were to engage in the struggle for change. It would be a real strug-gle- and there would be many difficult defeats.~ After talking about realpowerlessness, Lerner describes surplus ~uly-Augus~ 199Y 4.91 Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years powerlessness as "the set of feelings and beliefs that make people think of themselves as even more powerless than the actual power sit-uation requires, and then leads them to act in ways that actually con-firm them in their powerlessness." He is describing me when he shows how many activists continually manage to redefine the con-ditions of success in such a way that they always feel "one down" for not having accomplished enough; they redefine their victo-ries as failures and do not credit their own real accomplishments. I certainly do that often. Lerner reminds us that when society claims it is set up in a fundamentally fair way, in which people can make it if they really try, powerlessness is seen as a product of the individual's personal failures. Thus self-blame becomes the central element in surplus powerlessness. It grows stronger every time we blame ourselves for having failed in some important way and have no compassion for ourselves in view of all the ways that reality pushes us to be less than we want to be. Taking responsibility for one's own life works only for the part of the population and for the societal issues where objective conditions allow for real change. People need help to distinguish between factors out of their control about which they could be legitimately angry and factors that would change if they changed how they thought about themselves and how they lived their own lives. Surplus powerlessness, self-blame, deflects attention from the real problems and hence from any real solutions. The anger that might be reasonably directed against a social order which gener-ates personal unhappiness is instead directed inwards and becomes depression or a dangerous buildup of repressed violence. But Lerner's next point is also part of my" experience. Once people are no longer disempowered by self-blaming, they are in a better position to change their environment. Surplus power-lessness can be lessened by supportive group interaction and by developing compassion, showing people that the problems they face do not come from personal inadequacies, but are faced by others as well, and that people need one another's help in facing these problems. My reflection on Lerner's concept of surplus powerlessness shows me that I have been blaming the victims, both my typical West Oakland person and myself. I have definitely internalized the American way that tells me that, if I have a problem, I should take care of it, work to change it, and not blame someone else. 492 Review for Religious But, to avoid the extreme of blaming others for my problems, I frequently go to the extreme of not giving much acknowledg-ment to the real powerlessness in my life, to the real systems that are oppressing me as well as my typical West Oakland person. At this point in my reflection, I read Joanna Macy's books Despair and Personal Power and World as Lover, World as Self about the need to feel pain, experience it, work through it: my pain and the pain of others. I see that as a big clue for me. I went back to my sabbatical journal written in Washington, D.C., in 1992. One of the questions in Mary Cosby's class on "call" was "What is your deepest pain?" I wrote, "I'm not aware of very much personal pain. Actually my greatest pain seems to be feel-ing the pain of others: so many homeless people on the street, so many hurting children, so much violence in the world., and feel-ing powerless to do very much about any of this." A few days later at a creative-movement session I felt overcome by sorrow and tears. I kept feeling, saying, crying to myself: "I didn't know how to make it better for people. I am so sad about that ¯ ¯ . sad because people were not helped, not so much that I couldn't help but that they weren't helped., thinking of Sylvia, Spring, Connie, Deedee, Charetta, Pat, A1, Brenda . . . tears because I couldn't do it, but more because life did not change for them . " I remember feeling that I must be avoiding some deeper personal pain if the major pain I was aware of was pain for the world, for other people. Now I see that a major need for me is to feel my pain, which greatly includes pain for the world. Joanna Macy says in Despair and Personal Power: "We have trouble cred-iting the notion that concerns for the general welfare might be acute enough to cause distress., but pain for our world touches each of us, and this pain is rooted in caring., our apparent pub-lic apathy is but a fear of experiencing and expressing this pain, and once it is acknowledged and shared it opens the way to our power." 2 I have definitely internalized the American way that tells me that, if I have a problem, I should take care of it, work to change it, and not blame someone else. July-August 199Y 493 Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years During that semester in 1992, I picked up an old journal from 1988, specifically looking for how I dealt at that time with my pain over the distressing situations I experienced daily at Jubilee West. A pattern seemed to be: I would run into a small or large problem that was usually a symptom of a larger systemic problem; feel frustrated and ptwerless; think I should be able to solve it; blame myself because I could not; go to bed depressed, wake up with somehow more energy ready to try again, to think up some new way to address the problem . . . but rarely allow myself to really feel my own pain and sadness. Although many people were involved in Jubilee West, I always felt myself ultimately respon-sible. I also frequently neglected my deep need to gift myself with beauty and nourishment for my soul. I have always felt a great desire for silence, solitude, beauty, prayer--for finding ways to experience the sacred in all of life. But I often let compulsive efforts to solve problems rob me of the centeredness necessary for living and acting from a contemplative way of being. As a step in the process of"living the questions" and of writ-ing this article, I walked around the West Oakland neighborhood visiting some of my longtime friends. I had not been able to do this since leaving Jubilee West three years ago; when we moved away last fall, I just disappeared without telling many people that I was going. So this walk was a pilgrimage for remembering and finding cause to grieve and cause to rejoice. What do I learn for myself from all of this reading and reflec-tion and from my recent pilgrimage of walking in West Oakland? What does my inner wisdom tell me? What follows are some exploratory answers as I live the questions: 1. Feel your pain, take time for it. your personal pain and that of the West Oakland people that you care about, and the world that 'faces the possibility of total destruction. Allowing myself to feel pain is hard to do; I am more used to giving thirty seconds to pain and then moving on to possible solu-tions. But, on my walk through West Oakland, I was more able to be with the pain of what I experienced: my own fear when I went into Campbell Village by myself because of what I know of the violence, drugs, and crime that are always there; the usual mounds of garbage everywhere, especially in front of my friend Sally's apartment; Sally's son in jail for using and selling drugs--I remem-ber him as a cute, loving eight-year-old; the fifteen or twenty men on the corner of 14th and Peralta as they always are--drink- 494 Review for Reh~ious ing and buying drugs; Trisha's house boarded up because she was evicted for drug activity, when she had been one of Jubilee West's most promising tenants. 2. Feelyourjoy also and others' joy as well: celebrate small suc-cesses, continue the lifelong task of dealing with your inner judge that says, "but it isn't enough." My walk through West Oakland gave me many opportunities for experiencing joy. It felt good to remember all the times I have been in people's houses having coffee and conversation. My friend Joanne greeted me with a big hug, and we laughed over old times together. Two of her children are doing very well, she is enjoying her job taking care of hand-icapped people, she still feels empow-ered by the victories we achieved together many years ago, and her sense of humor is still spectacular. Annie also greeted me with open arms; she is an elderly woman who owns her own home and several oth-ers in the neighborhood, though all of them are in various stages of disrepair. As I sat in her tiny kitchen, she asked me who she could get to help her change her will, and I remembered how hard it was, many years ago, to convince her to make a will at all. My last stop was Charles Garcia, who because of our orga-nizing efforts scraped up $1,700 twenty years ago to buy the falling-apart house he was living in--a small amount, even in 1974, but monumental to him. Although he was not home, his pride of ownership was evident everywhere: lots of beautiful roses in the front yard, a stained-glass window over the door; his daugh-ter spoke of wanting to. move her own growing family back to that neighborhood. I was pleased to see that there was only one burned-out house on Chester Street, when there had been many a few years ago, and I felt pride as always at Jubilee West's twenty-two new-con-struction apartments on Goss Street, definitely the ~best-looking housing anywhere in the neighborhood. My experience of joy on my walk through the West of Cypress neighborhood brought home to me the truth of Joanna Macy's Celebrate small successes, continue the life-long task of dealing with your inner judge that says, "but it isn't enough." jUuly-August 199Y 495 Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years words: "When we open our awareness to the web of life, we con-nect not only with the sufferings of others, but to the same mea-sure, with their gifts and powers . . . if we can grieve with the griefs of others, so, by the same token, by the same openness, can we find strength in their strengths, bolstering our own individual supplies of courage, commitment, and endurance."3 3. Acknowledge real powerlessness and systemic oppression. Deepen awareness of this as a reality check, as the main reason for not continuing self-blame, as a step to determining at which point to try to intervene. Catch yourself when you are blaming the vic-tim, whether that victim is yourself or someone else. 4. Acknowledge surplus powerlessness in yourself and in others, and try to find ways to deal with it, mainly by group sharing and by compassion for yourself and others. 5. Give up the myth that there is one key to changing the world. I have had the fantasy hope that there is one key to changing oppres-sive systems and that, if I could just find it, I would know what to do. Now I am more aware that transformation is happening on many levels at once and that it is not necessarily more important to work on one rather than another; I have lots of options for where I can best use my gifts to work for change. 6. Give up the myth that I am totally responsible (even when and if it is my job to be in charge), that I necessarily have the power to create the changes I want. Sometimes I have that power, often I do not. Any transformation will take many people working in many ways. A friend told me recently that she has become passionately committed to nudging the world toward justice and ecological san-ity. The idea of nudging shows a good grasp of reality and the pos-sible, and many people are doing this all over the world. 7. Give as much time as possible to the beauty, silence, and soli-tude that I so long for and know is essential to the life of my soul. My greatest desire is to act from a deeply contemplative stance. I do not always live that way, but I become more and more con-vinced that it is the only way to be who I am, to be at peace with myself and the world. Many questions remain as I come to the end of these reflec-tions, but hopefully every deepened insight leads to new possi-bilities and changes in my way of being, feeling, and acting. My questions will take more than my lifetime to answer. I am reminded of a vivid memory from a few years ago. I was in the midst of a crisis at Jubilee West, and I went to walk around the 496 Review for Religious lake to try to think of what to do. As I walked, I would come up with an idea about a next step, bu~ a voice in me kept asking, "What if you can't solve the problem?" I would be with that ques-tion for a few minutes and then start again to plan strategies. But the voice was persistent: "What if you can't solve the problem?" I have been brought up to believe that, ifI have a problem or see a problem, I should try to solve it. In fact, I very frequently have been able to find solutions to problems, to achieve what-ever I put my mind to achieve. Similarly, in World as Love~; World as Self, Joanna Macy quotes Lyndon B. Johnson as saying during the Vietnam War: "Don't come to me with a problem unless you have a solution." She tells of some colleagues in France who, ridi-culing our American culture for demanding instant solutions to problems, said we should "let the difficulties reveal themselves first before rushing for a ready-made solution, or else you will not understand them.''4 And so, as I walked around the lake struggling with the com-plexities of my crisis, the persistent voice asking "What if you can't solve the problem?" was actually a blessing. It pushed me to experience that often I cannot solve the problem. What is needed then is not more strategies, but waiting in openness: openness to the unfathomable presence, power, energy, connectedness in the universe, in me, in other people, and in all situations--which I call God. What is needed is sitting with open hands and open heart in deep silence and solitude, or dancing with abandonment to powerful music, or walking on the beach feeling the immensity of the ocean, or remembering my redwood tree. What is needed is anything that brings home to me the sacredness of all beings. I am remembering also the poem by Wendell Berry that I first saw on the kitchen wall at Genesis Farm, the environmental study center where I spent six weeks in the spring of 1992. It moved me deeply then and still does, giving me a powerful image of commitment to the possible in the darkest of times: "In the dark of the moon, / In flying snow,/. / The world in danger. / I walk the rocky hillsides / Sowing clover." I wonder what forms my clover will take? In looking through my 1991-92 .journal, I rediscovered another powerful image, a dream I had on 1 February 1992 and had forgotten. The image of wholeness in my dream links with Joanna Macy's wisdom about the interconnected whole in Despair and Personal Power: "What is it that allows us to feel pain for our Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years world? And what do we discover as we move through it? What awaits us there on the other side of despair? To all these ques-tions there is one answer. It is interconnectedness with life and all other beings. It is the living web out of which our individual, sep-arate existences have risen, and in which we are interwoven."s Deep implications of this dream are gradually surfacing as I continue to reflect on it more than three years later: I am in a house with many people., much chaos., there is a cupboard with a lot of jigsaw puzzles., suddenly they all fall out and come crashing down . . . so there are hun-dreds of puzzle pieces all over the floor., all from differ-ent puzzles . . . instead of feeling hopeless, like I would never be able to sort out the pieces and put each puzzle together again . . . in the dream I feel hopeful . . . like what was individual puzzles is now one big whole . . . and the challenge is to make a new picture in a new way. Soon after I wrote the pages above, my friend Sister Pat, cofounder of Jubilee West, died unexpectedly while we were vaca-tioning in Vermont. We had worked, argued, dreamed, planned, and enjoyed life together in West Oakland for nineteen years of a longer close friendship. Pat was "home" to me; now I feel like a homeless person. In my grief I have felt that God is burning himself into my soul, in intense pain and intense beauty. Was it in another lifetime that I wrote, "I'm not aware of very much per-sonal pain"? I am amazed that "Feel your pain" was one of my "exploratory answers." It has helped me take time for the sadness of my loss. I am hopeful that my pain will give me strength and wisdom to respond to the world's pain in new ways. My under-standing of my own "answers" is deeper than when I wrote them. Hopefully, I am more ready to keep working to create a new pic-ture, a new wholeness. Notes ~ Michael Lerner, Surplus Powerlessness (Oakland: Institute for Labor and Mental Health, 1986). These and other quotations from Lerner are a combination of a variety of pages in this book. 2 Joanna Macy, Despair and Personal Power in the Nuclear Age (Baltimore: New Society Publishers, 1983). These quotations are a com-bination of a variety of pages in chapters 1 and 2. 3 Macy, Despair, p. 32. 4 Joanna Macy, World as Love~; World as Self(Berkeley: Parallax Press, 1991), p. 18. s Macy, Despair, p. 24. 498 Review for Religious MARGARET MARY KNITTEL Corporate Sponsorship: The 1990s and the Fruits of Our Labor I alternate between thinking of the planet as home--dear and familiar stone hearth and garden--and as a hard land of exile in which we are all sojourners. --Annie Dillard, "Sojourner" Mey mother had lived in this home, built by her father, ver since she was eighteen, and now sixty years later she was selling the stained-glass windows, the hardwood floors, everything. All went well but for that last moment holding all the pain. We walked away bearing the image of strangers in that beloved doorway, frame of four generations. Doorways of insti-tutions, too, owned and operated by generations of women reli-gious, hold countless emotionally freighted moments, and near the close of the 20th century the terms "corporate sponsorship" and "fruits of our labor" have become and remain inextricably bound. In one ethical frame come three questions that are relevant to these two realities, corporate sponsorship and fruits of our labor. The three questions suggest a fluidity of vision, a loo'sening of ties. The questions are: Who are we? Who are we becoming? Who are we called to be? Who Are We? Over successive generations the corporately sponsored institutional ministry increasingly became for Catholic women religious in the United States their "hearth and garden," Margaret Mary Knittel RSM served as director of personnel services at Saint Xavier University in Chicago from 1981 to 1987. Presently, as a consultant for nonprofit organizations, she writes to us from I 1 Simpson, H; Geneva, Illinois 60134. ~uly-Aug~st 1995 499 Knittel ¯ Corporate Sponsorship the consummate fruits of their labor, our labor. Hospitals, nurs-ing homes, orphanages, .high schools, and colleges together form a litany of dedicated achievement, of the brick-by-brick accom-plishments of many dedicated women. Annie Dillard's feelings about this planet as hearth and garden and land of exile help identify three groups or generations of women religious who for a hundred years have owned and operated those institutions.1 These generations we shall call the exiles, the arrived, and the The first generation, the exiles, traveled from countries like Ireland, Germany, and Italy to North American mission lands. The second generation, the arrived (or arriv&s), lived in an at-homeness within their institutions in the burgeoning years. Now, in these closing years of the 20th century, we have a third gen-eration, the sojourners, seeking a new way to live their profes-sional commitments and their personal lives as vowed women religious upon finding themselves living in smaller and smaller groupings on a planet presenting challenges and opportunities their pioneering sisters in exile--their grandsisters--would not recognize. For the exiles--pioneers, all of them--the missions of the late 19th and early 20th century meant lives of physical sacrifice and economic deprivation well beyond the virtue or vow of poverty. Those women pieced together budgets, scraping their ingenuity for survival. Having come intent upon working hard, they strove to build hearths and gardens and kept striving and struggling, remaining and reminding themselves to be exiles at heart, women in a foreign land. Echoing the economy at large, the institutional ministries they had founded and maintained boomed after the lean years of the Great Depression. The second generation, the arrived, brought forward personal and corporate energies to build up edu-cational, social-service, and healthcare institutions surpassing the dreams of the earlier immigrant generation, the exiles. With increased settling in, this hearth of the religious women's profes-sional lives, this sponsored work, began for some to take on near-salvific powers. This hospital, this academy, began to hold terrestrial hopes and dreams, promised a salvation, and hinted of a this-side immortality. Plaudits, awards, and status were afforded to this generation of women who had arrived, who in some cases had left a humble family circle for what was increasingly becom- 500 Review for Religious ing an educated, secure middle-class community. They, we, by one definition indeed had arrived. For the arrived, their hospital or academy chapel began to localize the garden of the spirit. Here each morning and evening, all, regardless of professional status, gathered together at prayer. Here the contemplative "side" sought nourishment as the apostolic "side" waited just outside the chapel door. Hearth of work and garden of spirit, these became fix-tures within the corporate institu-tions cared for by the members of this second generation. Who Are We Becoming? In the movie "What's Eating Gilbert Grape?" the central figure, an exceedingly obese mother of four, says to her teenage son in a moment of reconciliation, "I never wanted to be like this." She had eaten her way to virtual immobility after her husband walked away from her and their children. Do we women religious, as this 20th cen-tury of ours draws to a close, gaze at our corporate body and say to ot~rselves, "We never wanted to be like this"? The founders of mis-sions here in the United States began on an inspiration to do good The second generation, the arrived, brought forward personal and corporate energies to build up educational, social-service, and healthcare institutions surpassing the dreams of the earlier immigrant generation, the exiles. in the sight of the God, and now, one or two hundred years later, their legatee corporate body has perhaps come to he something overly substantial: substantial hearth and garden, substantial fruits of our labor. These places, these institutions, became the symbolic body of our corporate identity within the church and the symbolic immortality within our destinies. Boards, philanthropic individ-uals, committees, friendships have been cultivated in the name of a hospital, an orphanage, or a school, and individual women's identities have been formed by and dedicated to bricks and steam pipes and windows. And then, as a distant window opened in the early 1960s and Vatican Council II convened, the corporate body ~ly-August 1995 501 Knittel * Corporate Sponsorship began to be looked at and came into question: "Is this who we are becoming?" For some women and men, in and out of religious life, the signs of the times appealed to in the council documents began to replace the signs of success. The prophet Jeremiah's call to voca- Women religious know that an additional thirty years, like those since the council, will not be afforded them. A sizable amount of post-Vatican time has quickly become history, and religious can recite lists of classrooms already vacated, hospital beds unused, and doors closed. tion describes a people God observes burning incense to strange gods and "adoring their own hand-iwork" (Jr 1:16). The prophetic began to ease itself forward. The work of our hands, the fruits of our labor, came into question. Now, in these late days of the 20th century, the hearth lies gray with embers and the garden shows signs of late-summer exhaustion. Women religious know that an additional thirty years, like those since the council, will not be afforded them. A sizable amount of post-Vatican time has quickly become history, and religious can recite lists of classrooms already vacated, hospital beds unused, and doors closed. Worse, we know in our aging the lists of needs more acute, more violent, than our grandsisters might have dared imagine. With abuses crowding our culture into corners that seem to offer no choice, we acknowl-edge there has to be more to this journey. Who Are We Called to Be? Our third generation, the would-be sojourners, wonder at this late-20th-century hour: "Is this our time of exile? Shall we be graced to select to become sojourners. Selecting to be sojourners, to move from being securely settled to securely unsettled, recalls the, sweep of the Hebrew Scriptures showing us a people finding centers other than God. The king-dom, the temple, the land--here was the answer. No, not here, there. No, not there, here. Efforts to restore the earthly kingdom kept centering on realities other than God. But Yahweh contin-ued to insist. 502 Review for Religious Selecting to be sojourners calls us to know how to go into exile, how to travel. Traveling, what shall we pack? Timing, how to schedule transportation, stopovers? And we cannot forget those allowances of minutes and hours, those sponges of time, to absorb this unfamiliar territory, this plan, these new connections. We will not know the language, but will need to interact and relate with others in order to continue on the journey and will have to search our imaginations for ways to communicate constructively. Life will move more slowly even as we continually need to cope with myriad details. Knowing exile, we will know ourselves anew. A clock continues to tick, and while many individual women religious hear it, the instinct to muffle its sound remains. "Enough!" we hear. Our alternative thoughts drift to sojourning, but graying embers say "Enough." We lived through the changes of the 1960s and '70s immediately after the council. No more traveling, turning, leaving, remembering, forgetting, previsioning, refashioning, or paradigm shifting for us! Just leave me alone. Enough. Give me the basics for survival and let me live out my life, here. Give me my job, my position, my power. Give me space. But a clock continues to tick. Learning to Mourn Henri Nouwen has said, "Yes, we must mourn our losses. We cannot talk or act them away, but we can shed tears over them and allow ourselves to grieve deeply. To grieve is to allow our losses to tear apart feelings of security and safety and lead us to the painful truth of our brokenness. Our grief makes us experience the abyss of our own life in which nothing is settled, clear, or obvious, but everything constantly shifting and changing.''2 At issue here is whether or not women religious have the energy to mourn. There have been deaths--countless funerals, remembered rejec-tions, and downright hostilities and hatreds. Yes, death seems to have been an integral part of this life once so much idealized--the youth and the joy! But, through all of these deaths, have we short-circuited a certain human pathos, admixing theologies and spiri-tualities, being at times more stoic than Christian? Several weeks after the death of my mother, an acquaintance asked, "How are you doing?" An incident, fresh that day, helped me to describe a way of being that I would later learn is common to us and may be where the corporate person of religious life .~ly-Auguyt 1995 503 Knittel * Corporate Sponsorship finds itself today. I told him of my standing in the middle of a room that morning, about to clean, but not knowing what to do next. My emotional energy was somehow separated from me as a person. As women religious, do we stand in the middle of a room and not know how to clean it, with our individual and corpgrate emo-tional energy elsewhere? Solneone has said, "Leaders are people who do the right thing; managers are people who do things right.''3 Is there a sense that somehow our corporate energy has separated itself from the corporate body so that with our corpo-rate leadership we continue doing things right rather than doing the right thing? Walter Brueggemann has observed that "reli-gious practitioners are often easy and unwitting conspirators with such denial. We become the good-humor men and women, for who among us does not want to rush in and smooth things out, to reassure, to cover grief?.''4 Rush in, smooth out, reassure--sounds familiar. What and where are the deep-down places in which we will individually and corporately rejoin our emotional energies, find ourselves? While sometimes we feel sublimely practiced in the various forms of grief, having experienced death in many forms, have we mourned? Have we cared enough about ourselves individually and corporately to let in the slow, mysterious loneliness, the ever changing healing of life after a death, a shocking, numbing death, has occurred? This work of mourning looks not only to the past but also to the future, fully realizing that new steps must be taken. The ability to bear wholesome and healing grief is every bit as much a fruit of our labor as the most imposing achievement of our corporate endeavors. Who are we called to be in this late 20th century, and is God directly and immediately in charge? Given our status and our connections, have we--women religious who have arrived--cor-porately capitulated to others' being in charge, someone else's agenda. "The task of the prophetic imagination is to cut through the numbness, to penetrate the self-deception, so that the God of endings is confessed as Lord.''s We come through the numbing to learn from a God in charge that the fruit of our labor may be "only" to know Jesus the Christ once again as way, as truth, as life. In this late 20th century, the fruits of our having arrived carry the exotically sweet flavor of success taken for granted and of 504 Review for Religious controlling power. In some instances we think it necessary to cling to these fruits with an even tighter grip. What sadder use of our time than participating in meetings with unseen forces with a view to reconstituting yesteryear rather than working with hope for tomorrow! Is there true conversation within our communi-ties, or merely some talk while waiting for followers to follow? Whether we would speak with Brueggemann's "prophetic imagination" or Philip Keane's "moral imagination," can we imag-ine imagining? Keane has said, "Communities as well as persons need t6 develop moral character and exercise moral imagination as they seek to address the great issues of our times.''6 When a loved one dies, a significant part of our grieving may involve imagining the future without them. We have known and loved them, but deep down we grieve for ourselves in an unknown future--a birthday or a Christmas--without their presence. We deeply miss this lost past. The exile has begun, with or without us. We need to acknowl-edge it, learning more and imagining more about what it means to mourn. We will be sojourners, like our grandsisters before us, leaving the comforts of home, however we currently define and hold on to them. "A number of factors can hinder persons from being genuinely reflective and playful in their moral thinking," says Keane; "power or force is one such factor.''7 Shall we become more reflective, more playful, and imagine leaving our present "homes" of wrongfully constructed political power, of oppressive behaviors? What prevents us from asking: Who are we? Who are we becoming? and Who are we called to be? The answer from some, if not all, may lie in these processes of the prophetic, these questions. Land of Exile: Corporate Sojournership "Fairly often," says Keane, "I run into persons whose image of God is that God is out to get us. Such persons want to be told what to do, and they are afraid of using their moral imaginations. Their religious or prayer lives will often be quite limited because their fear keeps them from really being open to the power of the Gospel stories.''8 As women religious we seek the courage to imag-ine and do corporately what many individual women and men have already wrestled with in their lives. We need, corporately, to turn in the keys, have a good cry, and move on. 3~uly-Al¢g'ust 199Y 505 Knittel * Corporate Sponsorship Turning in the keys does not necessarily mean a wholesale closing of eacli and every institution. Some would like that, but it could indeed prove shortsighted and definitely unimaginative, even though some say the community's need for money is a good reason for selling this hospital or that academy and others say, "If we sell, we would be doing something holy." Abandoning an inner-city hospital without recourse to imaginative possibilities of how this long-cared-for space--the land's square feet and the buildings' cubic feet--could now serve the poor better might well become a new urban tragedy. We will need to go after anew, with all the civic clout that our years of being respectable arrivges can muster, the neighborhood's endemic and systemic problems. The friends of our institutions of the past may not choose to be the companions of our sojourning in the years ahead. But, together with those who would stay with us, we n~ed to find out who we are called to be. In any new land such as the future, there will be questions, then some answers, and then new questions. Our bequest, the fruits of our labor--whether embodied in our present corporate buildings and our present apostolic endeavors or not--must always be directed towards common goods that our corporate resources and corporate energies can hope to accomplish. People reflecting on the conversion to which all of us are called expect that the hearth and garden that halve come down to tis from a former time, these substantial signs of our having arrived, will increasingly suggest to us new common and corpo-rate lives of sojourning exile. These and similar questions will keep occurring to us: How will we use the power and influence we have? What could the prayer of our community be like? How will we imagine and live appropriate ways of coming together and being together--or of being together and going out together? What can we do most effectively for the coming of the kingdom? Shall we be women of vision, corporately attending to the good? Shall we corporately prepare in earnest to live in exile, to be sojourners, persons consciously and deliberately ready for the journey that begins and ends in God? Notes l Annie Dillard, "Sojourner," in Teaching a Stone to Talk (New York: Harper and Row, Publishers, 1988), p. 150. 506 Review for Religious 2 Henri J.M. Nouwen, With Hearts Burning (Maryknoll, New York: Orbis Books, 1994), p. 27. 3 Warren Bennis, Why Leaders Can't Lead (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass Publishers, 1989), p. 18. 4 Walter Brueggemann, The Prophetic hnagination (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1978), p. 49. s Brueggemann, p. 49. 6 Philip S. Keane, Christian Ethics and Imagination (New York: Paulist Press, 1984), p. 104. 7 Keane, p. 107. 8 Keane, p. 107. Tourist Your T-shirt's stamped in letters large across your chest: KATMANDU. Your bike is labeled with a hundred road resorts. Your car is dotted round with all your touring triumphs . So, why not take another route today? A low-cost tour to that other inner world inside. Stay quiet by that vast unbounded inner ocean in your mind. Dive, swim and surf. Fly free. Ride high the inner waves of thought and feeling endlessly exhilarated, or delve into the dark and secret untrod cavern of your soul. Discover now the mystery of creation; confront the abyss unending of your own nothing-self becoming. And meet in that remote mysterious empty temple, far inside, your God. Cothrai Gogan CSSP .y~uly-August 199Y 507 CATHERINE M. HARMER Retirement's Wisdom Years One of the recurring discussions at assemblies and chap-ters of religious revolves around the rising median age, the need to care for our elderly, and more subtly the growing costs of such caring. The issue is an important one in that most United States congregations have median ages over sixty. An examination of congregational budgets shows that increasingly large amounts of money are dedicated to the care of the elderly. The National Conference of Catholic Bishops has been sponsor-ing a special collection for aging religious that people contribute to with great generosity, but it covers only a small part of the actual costs. A visit to the motherhouse of almost any group of sisters will show that a large part of what was housing for novices in the past is now dedicated to the aging members. Some motherhouses have very fine infirmaries for the sick elderly. There is no question that religious leaders are making great efforts to provide the best they can for their members through all stages of life. I would like, however, to examine two aspects of that effort. The first has to do with the nursing-home care that many of the sick elderly need. The second has to do with the concept of retirement for religious and the way it has been handled over the last twenty years or so. The Sick Elderly The first topic is the simpler one and will get less treatment in this article. In the care of our sick elderly, the emphasis has Catherine M. Harmer MMS wrote "Election: A Call to Service" for our September-October 1994 issue. Her address is Medical Mission Sisters; 300 W. Wellens Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19120. 508 Review for Religious been changed from the simple caring for them "at home" that was possible when the median age was much lower and the num-ber of elderly religious was either smaller or relatively smaller. When that was the case, at the motherhouse a small staff assisted by novices and postulants could care for them in much the same way that a family could take care of any sick or elderly member of it. Gradually, as the numbers increased and the sick elderly lived longer, a more professional model, that of the nursing home, became more common. As this was happen-ing, the percentage of vigorously active members was decreasing. At present, in most of the retirement facilities I have visited over the years, the staff is largely lay with very few religious among them. In some very large congrega-tions, with several hundred sick elderly members, the facilities com-pare well with any licensed nursing home, often providing much better care and definitely offering more loving care than in the average nurs-ing home for the laity. In smaller congregations the attempt to pro-vide quality nursing care results in Some small congregations in a given area are studying the feasibility of establishing an intercon gregational nursing home. A few religious leaders are looking at ways to provide for their members in general nursing homes in their area. small facilities that are as expensive to maintain as considerably larger ones would be. In some cases a nursing staff (composed mainly of nurse aides) that could care for thirty patients is taking care of ten or fifteen, sometimes fewer. As congregations face the heavy financial drain, there is a movement toward collaboration among the congregations in a geographic area. This is a positive development that could lead to good care for the religious and lower financial costs. Some groups that have larger facilities are opening them to other congrega-tions. Some small congregations in a given area are studying the feasibility of establishing an intercongregational nursing home. A few religious leaders are looking at ways to provide for their mem-bers in general nursing homes in their area. All of these steps are difficult. Often the members of a con-gregation are very unwilling to have their elderly cared for away .~dy-August 199Y 509 Harmer ¯ Retirement's Wisdom Years from their own motherhouse. At times the elderly themselves feel that they are being mistreated by being separated from their tra-ditional homes. Only a few consider it a good thing to be in a nursing home of mixed patients, men and women, religious and lay, in spite of the pastoral potential of such a model. The efforts of leaders and the combined efforts of congrega-tions to deal with both the physical realities and the psychologi-cal and religious values are important ones. Key for the leaders will be understanding, patience, and collaborative stances. For the members, those who are elderly and those who are not, it is important to develop an acceptance of the reality they face and a willingness to keep their last days congruent with what has gone before. I suggest that this requires ongoing education for every-one and a spirituality that looks at one's last days as continuous with the dedication of earlier days. Religious Retirement In our efforts to prepare one another for "retirement," we may have bought into a model that was emerging after World War II and continues to develop in terms of what aging and retir-ing are all about. This brings me to the second topic, the one which will constitute the major portion of this article. It is all the more important because it bears upon the first as well. It has to do with how we are viewing retirement. I believe that we have accepted a way of looking at retirement which is increasingly being challenged in the population at large and that we need to study it in the light of what our entire religious life is about. Several aspects of this model of retirement raise new questions. The current model in the United States assumes that people will retire at sixty-five if not earlier. When Social Security became a reality in the 1930s, life expectancy was lower, many people did hard physical labor and had relatively poor nutritional histories, and their hope was simply that at retirement they could stop working without worry about becoming dependent on their chil-dren or "ending up in the poorhouse." Today life expectancy is much higher, and the reality is that many people stay active, healthy, and alert for twenty years and longer after they retire. A second aspect, then, is that retirement is a time of not work-ing and, instead, spending one's time and energy at play of one sort or another. (Married women often have less of the play since 510 Review for Religious they are still expected to do the work of keeping up the home.) A problem here is that many retired people soon become bored with the play aspect. Some move toward part-time jobs or vol-unteer work, while others become captives of the television or the endless bingo games of our less creative senior centers. A third aspect of the current model that deserves examina-tion is the tendency to move away from the place where most of life was spent. This sometimes has to do with seeking a warmer climate or more economical housing. The result is that, as peo-ple age, they are out of regular con-tact with their family and must develop new friends. Even the elderly who manage well on their own in their original home are often under pressure from relatives and friends to find a smaller place-- which often takes them away from the community in which they have close ties and away from some sig-nificant activities that they could otherwise keep up. People are living longer while remaining physically and mentally vigorous, and yet the model of retirement continues to treat them as if they cannot do anything but play. What is being lost is the opportunity for them to contribute to family, to friends, to com-munity, in a different way than during their working years, but a way that is significant and needed. What is being lost to society at large is the accumulated wisdom of the elderly, a loss our soci-ety cannot afford. It would be a shame for religious congregations to follow the national model for retirement too closely. While few if any con-gregations have fixed ages of retirement from major involvement in ministries, there has been a subtle movement over the last few decades to start "thinking about retirement" while the religious are in their fifties. Without necessarily meaning to do so, this has too frequently led to a mentality that places retiring somewhere in the sixties, even if there is no real reason to do so. I have vis-ited motherhouses where some of the sisters appear to have retired Although the idea that play is the major activity of the retired has not taken hold so completely in religious congregations, what has developed is a sense that this is my time to do with as I wish. J-uly-dugust 199Y 511 Harmer ¯ Retirement's Wisdom Years far too soon and are desperate for some way to be involved in ministry. Mthough the idea that play is the major activity of the retired has not taken hold so completely in religious congregations, what has developed is a sense that this is my time to do with as I wish. Especially in motherhouses, which tend to be out in the country or relatively isolated, this leads to a combination of small tasks around the motherhouse, activities that mimic the senior citizens' centers, and some increased emphasis on the spiritual life without much attention to how that might be different at this stage of life. Often when I talk with the retired themselves I find a deep longing for two things: to find some meaningful part-time min-istry and to explore what spiritual life means at this latter stage of life. When retirement takes place at a motherhouse, you find the same isolation from community that the lay elderly experience who move to Florida. While most religious have lived and worked in a number of places, there was always the parish, the school or hospital, sometimes the neighborhood, as a framework for involve-ment and support. This is now gone, and the beautiful grounds of the motherhouse, the special facilities, and sometimes the large numbers (for those, notably, who were used to smaller groups) are no substitute for what has been lost. Religious do not, on the whole, do a lot of complaining, but the sense of loss is often heard in the undertones of a conversation. We hear ". everything is so nice here., everyone is so kind . . . but."--and the long-ing is very real. I am increasingly convinced that elderly religious should, whenever possible, have the same choices as the younger members. This stage of life is important, and it needs to be rec-ognized as such. In the remainder of this article, I want to address two impor-tant things about aging and retirement for religious: (1) the sec-ond half of life as a time of deepening wisdom and individuation, a time for a greater spirituality to emerge, and (2) the role of elderly religious in continuing the mission of Jesus. For many ideas here, it will be evident that I am indebted to Carl Jung, but also to a fascinating book by Jane R. Pr~tat on the croning years (1994). As I read her book, I found myself dwelling on several ideas: that our society wastes the wisdom of the elderly at a time when we need it most; that aging is not just something that hap-pens, but a part of the whole picture of life; and that much of 512 Review for Religious what is wrong in contemporary ways of looking at and dealing with aging in general are found also in regard to aging among religious, especially in how we treat the reality we call "retire-ment." The Second Half of Life Some years ago a large number of articles, workshops, and counseling programs focused on a particular transition seen as noteworthy, the "mid-life crisis." This concept seems, from a Jungian point of view, relevant to the developmental model's tran-sition from the first to the second half of life. This division into two halves does not have a chronological point, just ~s mid-life cannot be tied to a specific number of years of life. The first half of life is devoted to infancy, childhood, and young adulthood inso-far as these parts of life have to do with coming to know the world around ourselves, coming to an understanding of who we are as separate from our parents, learning, developing a working career, and moving to success within that career. At the midpoint, we might wake up in the morning and ask: Is this all there is to life? How we answer that question may indicate if the second half of life is about to begin. If the answer is "Yes, this is it!" we could spend the rest of our life simply as a continuation of the first half until death. If the answer is "No, there is something more!" we could enter into the second half of life. In the second half of life, the tasks shift to integration of the parts that have been separated during the first half, the move-ment toward individuation, coming to know ourselves in a dif-ferent way, and the decision to move toward wisdom. The "wise old man" and "wise old woman" archetypes begin to emerge dur-ing the early part of this second half of life. I believe that many people make the shift to the second half of life without ever hear-ing about Jung or his developmental theories. They recognize that something is changing in themselves, and they move with those changes. Some of the "play" elements of retirement--the programs for senior citizens that involve bingo, excursions, and hobbies--could be considered a return to an early part of the first half of lifel Now that we have done our work, earned our pension, we can again become the children whose task is play. For people with a limited field of interests, this may mean watching television for ffuly-August 1995 513 Harmer ¯ Retirement's Wisdom Years As we age; there is often a longing for a deeper understanding, a greater closeness to God. It is a normal part of the second half of life. long hours of the day and night. This is to remain in the first half of life, possibly until death, without ever taking the step into the second half. For other people, the leisure activities are part of their under-standing of where they are in terms of age, but other aspects also begin to emerge. Spending time with their children and grand-children can be a way of being the elder who is communicating the lore and the wisdom of life. This is a second-half activity and one much needed in today's culture, in which single-parent families and families with both parents working are becoming the norm. Contact with the older generation, with grandparents, . uncles, and aunts, which for long years was the norm, now is the excep-tion in many families. Wisdom also has to do with com-ing to a deeper knowledge of God, a greater and deeper integration of the spiritual life. For many people, life has been so busy, so full of duties, that the spiritual life was relegated to a set of rituals honored on a daily, weekly, or yearly basis. As we age, there is often a longing for a deeper understanding, a greater closeness to God. It is a normal part of the second half of life. In some cases it is connected with daily Mass for people who during their working years were quite con-tent with the Sunday Mass; it may mean a return to some of the religious practices of childhood; sometimes it is :a search for deeper intimacy with God. This longing belongs to the wisdom quest of this second stage. Religious, hopefully, have not stinted on their attention to the spiritual and to God's presence all through the active first half of their life. Yet the sense that the latter half of life has some-thing special to offer is found among them as well. One cannot deny, though, that some religious at this stage seem to put i:he haain emphasis on play. Their way of playing may be different, but it is still play and may involve television, novel reading, trips to the casino with the senior citizens' group, and considerable family visiting. 514 Review for Religious As a country we have to explore how to make the wisdom of the elders available to our children and to our busy adults. In the extended family of the past, this happened very simply. At one time in my childhood, I went every Friday after school to my grandparents' home so that on Saturday morning I could help .my grandmother with some of the cleaning she found difficult to do. What I remember most is conversations after supper on Friday with my grandfather, who told me the stories of his youth when he was an organizer of the unions in the steel mills of Pittsburgh. I also remember listening to music on the radio, and all three of us reading our separate books or magazines. Elderly religious off in motherhouses and retirement centers lose their easy contact with yoilnger religious, lose casual opportunities to share their wisdom with them, just as grandparents nowadays are often in other states where spending time with their grandchildren is no longer 'possible. In some motherhouses there are now prayer centers and renewal centers that give workshops and courses for sisters and lay people who are interested. At one point I had a constant flow of their catalogues coming across my desk. Fine as many of these centers are, I rarely saw anything that addressed the need for exploring the spirituality of the latter half of life, of the retirement years. Yet in those same houses I often met older sisters who longed for scripture study, for prayer assistance, for some way of understanding and developing the spirit life for this special part of their earthly sojourn. Some Strategies for the Second Half of Life It seems to me, then, that there are two things leadership would do well to do~ (1)to make it possible for elderly religious (granted their varying degrees of diminished energy) to continue to be involved in meaningful ministries that connect with the congregation's charism and mission and (2) to make conscious efforts to help the elderly religious move through the integrative work of the second half of their life in a way that is just as appro-priate as the novitiate training was for the first half. ., I live in a parish at present where more than half of the sis-ters in the local convent are well into the second half of their life and thus are no longer able to be involved full-time in the min-istries of their congregation. The congregation is a teaching one, jg~uly-August 1995 515 Harmer ¯ Retirement's Wisdom Years staffing many parish and,diocesan schools. A few of the sisters teach in the parish school, others commute to diocesan high schools, and the older sisters are engaged in time,limited but very vital ministries, These include teaching and tutoring in the adult literacy center, tutoring children from the grade school, and vis-iting elderly shut-ins 'in the neighborhood. None of these are full-time involvements. In some cases the sisters go to the school, in others the students come to them in the convent. Whenever I meet with these women, I am struck by the joy and peace that are obvious in them. Not everyone can be placed in a parish convent. Some of our elderly need to be in places like motherhouses where their greater physical needs can be provided for. It is sometimes possible to bring ministries to these motherhouses and at the same time pro-vide a wonderful service to others. I have been to motherhouses where there was day care for children in some parts of the build-ing and day care for ~he elderly in other parts. Two wonderful things happened there daily. The children and the elderly spent some time together every day, and both benefited by the experi-ence. The staff of both facilities had "assistants" from among the retired sisters who, like the women in my parish, could not work full-time, but could be counted on for blocks of time on .a regu-lar basis to help with both groups of day-care clients. o To keep our religious involved as long as possible has another imp.ortant benefit. Most o£ the research on the aging process shows that, if people stay physically and mentally active, they stay healthy longer and age more slowly. We have wonderful examples of very elderly people maintaining their mental and physical capacities long past the expected time and making contributions to art, 'literature,. and the commonweal. Even more important, this is a time when .religious can begin to share the wisdom that has come to them with age, experience, and deep reflection on the meaning of life. This is a wisdom that is very much needed in our culture, a wisdom that too often the children and young peo-ple do.not find around them. Religious can become, in~ a very real way, the grandparent figures ifi their parishes, neighborhoods, and institutions. This is the wisdom of experience joined with reflec-tion upon that experience. 0 The second thing needing attention from leadership is the effort to help religious .use their latter years creatively in order to move toward the union with God that has been such a part of our 516 Review for Religious thinking throughout life. Many of the forms of prayer and spiri-tuality that are helpful to members of active religious congrega-tions during their early and middle years are apostolically oriented. Appropriately, the religious appreciate seeing a close connection between their ministry and their spirituality. The inner life and the outer life are integrated, ideally, in a rich and vibrant way. Changes take place as religious move through the early years of the second half of life. Spending less time and energy in direct apostolic efforts, they have more time for more leisurely ways of praying. They are ready for the next stage of devel-opment of their inner life. Their focus at this stage is somewhat different from that of their early and middle years. It has within it many of the same elements, but also some new ones. In this stage the elderly may desire to recall or renew some of the things they learned in earlier years, but did not have time to savor and assim-ilate. Frequently they speak of their desire for scripture classes, for prayer workshops. These can be useful, but they need to be focused clearly and carefully on the latter years. Now the emphasis is not on quantities of information, but rather on depth, on quiet composure and integration within each individual's inner reality. The wisdom years are the time when the. "wise old woman" and "wise old man" archetypes come to the fore. While the wis-dom can be for oneself, it is even more for others. At this stage there is not likely to be any necessity to go out and preach or teach, but there should be a simple and peaceful realization that the wisdom being garnered is also for others. This is why it is important during these years: for religious to have two areas of concern: one for the continuing development of the wisdom that has been growing in them over the years, and the other for shar-ing that wisdom, very simply and directly, with others. As religious move along through this final stage of life, it is essential that they have the assistance they need to foster the growth of their inner life, to be more open to wisdom, and that they have opportunity to share it with others. Thus, the ending of Most of the research on the aging process shows that, if people stay physically and mentally active, they stay healthy longer and age more slowly. ~uly-August 199Y 517 Harmer ¯ Retirement's Wisdom Years life can be as full and as rich spiritually as any of the earlier stages, and it can be lived out in a truly mission-centered way. This will enrich the lives of the elderly religious themselves, but also of those who are yearning for that wisdom and do not yet know where to find it. It will bring a fullness to the lives of the "retired" and of those around them. It will be a far happier period than one given to play, television, and various excursions. Religious have frequently been the pacesetters in ministry. Perhaps it is time for the "retired" religious to begin to model to other retirees a richer, fuller, and more outwardly directed wisdom retirement. References Johnston, Charles M. Necessary Wisdom: Meeting the Challenge of a New Cultural Maturity. Seattle: ICD Press, 1991. Pr~tat, Jane R. Coming to Age: The Croning Years and Late-Life Transformations. Toronto: Inner City Books, 1994. Exposition Bless you, caress you~ enfold and possess you. Blessed by you, caressed by you, enfolded within you. Possessed. Chris Mannion FMS 518 Review for Religious TAD DUNNE The Enneagram Since the. early 1970s, religious educators, spiritual men-tors, retreat directors, and, most recently, management trainers have been talking about the "enneagram." 1 The theory proposes that each person is hooked by one of nine psychological compulsions--similar to the seven "capital" sins in classical Christian literature? Dozens of authors. and lecturers nowadays are teaching the theory to help people discover which of the nine compulsions is theirs and bow to accomplish their psychological liberation from it. The nine types are often referred to in caricatures: the Perfectionist, the Helper, ~he Status Seeker, the Sensitive Artist, the Observer, the Accuser, the Planner, the Bully, and the Slug.3 To edch of these descriptions, enneagram teachers attach longer descriptions of phobias, ambitions, expectations, learning style, sexual dynamics, management style, virtues, prides, blind spots, fixations, senses of time, and so on. The r~lations among the com-pulsions are represented by a circle whose circumference is numbered, at nine equidistant points. Within the circle is a triangle drawn from points three to six to nine. Also within the circle is a folded hexagon drawn through the Tad Dunne is an adjunct professor of medical ethics at Marygrove College, Detroit, and a management consultant for Blue Cross and Blue Shield of Michigan. He has published Spiritual Mentoring (HarperSanFrancisco) and Lonergan and Spirituality (Loyola University Press). He may be addressed at 2923 Woodslee; Royal Oak, Michigan 48073. guidance July-August 199Y 519 Dunne ¯ The Enneagram cycle 1-4-2-8-5-7-1. This strange figure has become the logo of the enneagram system. Enneagram and Myers-Briggs People often compare the enneagram to the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator, which classifies sixteen personality types accord-ing to one's preference for ways of noticing experience and mak-ing decisions. The chief difference between them is that the Myers-Briggs instrument indicates personal preferences, all of which are psychologically normal, while the enneagram indicates pathologies. That is, in the Myers-Briggs'all the types are healthy, while in the enneagram all the types are sick. So the Myers-Briggs is useful for accommodating one's own thinking style with col-laborators'; it helps groups identify the preferences for ways of learning and evaluating that exist,among their members and to deploy their relative .strengths accordingly. The enneagram, in contrast, is useful for identifying neuroses, mostly in oneself. The Myers-Briggs indicator, rooted in Jungian psychology, carries a positive attitude toward human consciousness, whereas the ennea-gram, rooted partly in Freudian psychology, takes a more suspi-cious stand. Few psyqhologists, however, rely on either tool for diagnostic purposes, because of an absence of empirical studies that correlate with validated' tests. Among other helping professionals, the Myers-Briggs indi-cator enjoys a wider and less controversial reputation than the enneagram. The sixteen preferences are easily understood; one can readily find Jung's comments on people's preferences between extraversion and introversion, between sensate observation and intuition, and between thinking and feeling.4 The enneagram, in contrast, has sources shrouded in arcane knowledge from a cor-ner of the Sufi tradition unknown to most Sufis and from George Ivanovich Gurdjieff, a self-styled visionary from Russia with dubi-ous credentials. The many enneagram books and tapes that have been published in the last decade tend to describe each of the nine compialsions in dogmatic terms--a style of presentation that allures some but alienates others,s 520 Some Positive Aspects of the Enneagram One of the most disturbing claims made by enneagram devo- Review for Religious tees is that these nine types cover the total human range of com-pulsions. Not ten, not eight.6 There are subsets among the nine, but these supposedly cover all possibilities. Devotees base this claim on an unfamiliar model of personality and on the ennea-gram logo, whose origins are untraceable.7 But what is really dis-turbing is that, despite the dogmatic claims of the theory and an absence of experiment-based research, it is difficult to find any-one who fails to fit one of the types. Enneagram fans in the help-ing professions, after years of working with the tool, feel that these nine are just about right. And individuals claim that the enneagram has helped them to reach a deeper understanding of their personal compulsions than any other self-help system has, In other words, this weird, unempirical, upsetting, gnostic, and mys-tifying map of the psyche seems to work. In 1990 Claudio Naranjo MD published Ennea-Type Structures: Self-Analysis for the Seeker. Enneagram students were eager to read what he had to say, since he led the development o_f the the-ory among English-speaking publics. His book, the smallest I know of on the subject, builds the theory on much more solid ground. That book is now out of print, but has been incorpo-rated in Naranjo's new and expanded volume, Character and Neurosis, published in 1994. Naranjo lends legitimacy to the theory in several ways. Unlike most other enneag.ram authors, who tend to pile adjective upon adjective and style upon style to cover the many variations possi-ble within each compulsion, Naranjo,keeps the set of descriptors limited. He wants these descriptors to function the way they func-tion in clinical manuals such as the DSM tli, namely, as a list of discreet phenomena sufficient to distinguish one type from another? By describing diseases with as little overlap as possible, he enables therapists to spot the core problem more quickly and waste less time on manifestations of the problem shared with other compulsions. Naranjo also takes pains to make a distinction between pas-sions (anger, envy, gluttony, and so forth) and the cognitive errors that underlie each passion. These errors amount to uncrit-ical assumptions about what life is like--the kind of oversimpli-fied worldview (and subsequent inappropriate adaptive routines) that Ellis deals with in his rational-emotive therapy.9 By pin-pointing cognitive errors, Naranjo believes, a person can iden-tify and dissolve his or her pet myths in order to rob the j~uly-August 199~ 521 Dunne * The Enneagram corresponding passion of its rationale and thereby weaken its grip on the psyche. Another contribution Naranjo makes to the theory is that he consistently explains the psychological dynamics at work in each compulsion, rather than just stating them. By appealing to his readers' understanding rather than their memory, he invites them to consult the workings of their own psyches to verify the pres-ence of certain subconscious routines. This is no small achievement. The mind is easily content with a notional familiarity with terms. Only under the whip of intel-lectual desire will we push forward to uncover for ourselves some of our psychic gremlins that have never seen the light of con-sciousness. Likewise the heart is easily comforted with comfort-able feelings; it takes an inner discipline, responsible to no one but oneself, to face up to the discomforts of acting responsibly. In my limited experience of teaching the theory, I found that many students find it too difficult to allow the teaching to break through their automatic defenses and deal with their hidden fears and cravings. The enneagram doctrine just feeds a ravenous compul-sion. So the Status Seeker uses the enneagram to advance her own reputation. The Observer uses it to gather yet further infor-mation before he ventiares out into the world. And so on. Enneagram work is particularly difficult for teachers. They are tempted to devour the lore with teaching in mind, not learn-ing. The work, however, is for people on a personal mission-- those who possess enough self-knowledge to know they are learners in the school of self-knowledge. Much of Naranjo's prose envisions a therapeutic setting in which a seeker looks to a men-tor for guidance. The aim of the therapy is not to settle what our basic compulsion is, as if from that point on we know what box we are in. The therapeutic outcome is not to identify a conceptual scheme that sometimes describes our behavior. The desired out-come is to understand specific experiences of being not our best selves, using conceptual schemes as initial indicators of what may be causing the trouble. This is why it is important to hold the enneagram types at arm's length. Although some people seem to fit a single type per-fectly, others seem to fit several types. Are these latter persons-- whose self-deceit eludes everyone's analysis--all the while being victims of only a single compulsion? Or have they really developed several distinct alternatives to authentic living? Practically speak- 522 Review for Religious ing, it makes no difference so long as users rely on the ennea-gram as nothing more than clusters of fixations and behaviors that logically hang together. Their conceptual consistency is merely a model to help people raise relevant questions about the inner events that possess a slippery logic of their own. Besides his economy of description and his reliance on per-sonal understanding, a further significant contribution Naranjo makes to the theory lies in how he has analyzed the connection between psychological difficulties and exis-tential decisions about being human. Going beyond Oscar Ichazo, from whom he first learned the theory, as well as beyond the people who had already published his enneagram material, Naranjo bases each psychological dynamic in a fundamental spiritual crisis he calls "ontic obscuration," which is a kind of a deafness to our inner drives to be authentic persons. He proposes that, just as certain cognitive errors under' lie each passion, so certain existential fail-ures underlie each cognitive error. This is significant because it puts the focus directly on the inner work of being fully human. Other authors settle for cate-gorizing people by behavior patterns or look to childhood trau-mas to explain present weirdness--the kinds of analyses commonly found in popular psychology. Indeed, popular psychology usually lacks the words and ideas with which to reflect on that innermost work of authenticity. But, by paying direct attention to "ontic obscuration," individuals can discover that a major driver behind their compulsive responses lies in how seriously they take those quiet impulses to be fully human or else how consistently they have avoided the inner work involved in staying human. This "ontic obscuration" underlies each compulsion in its own manner. The Slug stands at the center, having thoroughly obscured inner voices about how to be one's truest self. The Bully and the Perfectionist hear the voices dimly, but respond through a focus on externals, especially through various forms of anger they feel because things are not what they should be. The Helper, the Status Seeker, and the Sensitive Artist hear the voices, but they divert their desire to become fully human persons into Enneagram work is particularly difficult for teachers. They are tempted to devour the lore with teaching in mind, not learning. ~uly-Augtwt 199Y 523 Dunne ¯ The Enneag'ram becoming just persons whose image carries clout in the lives of o.thers. The Planner, the Accuser, and the Observer also hear the voiceS, but they divert a fear of not becoming fully human into strategies designed to protect the little bits of personhood they believe they possess.l° ¯ Naranjo refers to this approach as his "Nasruddin" theory. The story goes that this mullah was crawling around in an alley near a marketplace, searching for the key to his house. A friend joined in the search and, after finding nothing, asked the mul-lah, "Are you sure you lost the key around here?" The mullah responded, "No, I lost it at home." The friend naturally asked, "Then why are you looking for the key here?" The mullah replied, "The light is much better here." 1, The point is that we often look for the key to our house out under the sun, where everything seems clear. But the key is in the house, an~l the house is dark. The Existential Questign: How Should I Be? For all the benefits ofNaranjo's "ontic obscuration," he does not explain in precise terms what being human involves; he set-tles for a description of some effects of"obscuration." For exam-ple, "loss of a sense of I-am-ness" and "something missing inside.''12 At times he presumes that deep down people really know the experience of "ontic obscuration." At other times he claims that the obscuration itself prevents people from realizing that any kind of obscuration has occurred. So, while it is appro-priate for him to recommend that the seeker find a mentor to help recognize a compulsion, the theory would benefit also from a positive understanding of just what it is that "ontic obscura-tion" obscures. To uncover this prize, we need to reflect on how being human happens to be obscured ifi the first place. Most psychologists agree that the intellect of children develops not only in the amount of information they learn but, more significantly, in whether or not they learn certain higher-level intellectual skills for understanding their experiences. So Naranjo's "ontic obscura-tion'? indicates, not a breakdown in mental development, but rather an unfinished development. It is not a matter of having obscured what once was clear; it is a matter of having been born blind and gradually learning how to see. 524 Review for Religious The developmental problem is how to move from a world of images, behaviors, symbols, and external sensations to the larger world of meaning and values. As children we were able to pose questions about being human only by using images. Should I be pushy? Compliant? Generous? Teacherly? Observant? Like a lion? A turtle? A bird? A monkey? Early successful functioning of one of these styles sets up a habit and provides evidence that the world around us must be of such and such a nature--the one that matches our chosen strategy. To the Bully, then, the world is dog-eat- dog; to the Accuser, the world is ridden with crooks. We build up a behavioral style and support it with a cognitive belief in a par-ticular strategy like one of those described in .the enneagram: being correct, being related, being impressive, being the victim, being retentive, being wary, being pleasing, being pugnacious, or being deaf. We become capable of noticing our compulsions as such only later, when we learn that proper use of our minds and hearts is more important than proper behavior and that intelligent analy-sis and reasonable judgment put us in touch with the real world far better than myths and symbols can. Only p~ople who have learned to think about inner acts of meaning can make a statement such as "There I go again" as they catch on to unreal thinking and feeling. ~ .~ This learning represents a major jump in thinking skills. A person discovers that the world is not just "already out there.''Is The real world is also the invisible world made up of the acts of meaning that occur in people's minds and hearts: the agreements, the plans, the guiding ideas, the reigning values, the loyalties, the spites, the memories, the laws, and the internalized language of the place. Former precepts such as Be corre'ct~ Be connected, Be suc-cessful, and Be the martyr were established in the mind of a~child who had no alternative but to think with pictures and symbols. Bht, in the world of meaning and values, learning how to be human ought to transcend these image-based precepts and adopt precepts based on the functions of the mind and heart. Bernard Lonergan, the late Canadian philosopher whose Insight and Method in Theology have influenced many practitioners in the human and natural sciences, has identified five such func-tion- based precepts. They are: Be attentive, Be intelligent, Be reasonable, Be responsible, Be in love.'4 These voices are in all of us. They are active long before we notice them as distinct July-August 199Y 525 Dunne ¯ The Enneagram impuls.es. Although they still escape the notice of many psychol-ogists as being the most fundamental impulses that make us fully human, they are the living source of our ability to notice, under-stand, realize, take responsibility, and love, For Lonergan, these five precepts support a highly-structured method for the human sciences. But, for people seeking to under-stand their inner compulsions, they can also provide a normal way of referring to the task of being fully human. They can rep-resent the very operations that "ontic obscuration" obscures. These are the events that promise to bring a person to what Naranjo, in a more descriptive and less precise mode, calls "the integrated wholeness of one's experience"; "true aliveness, a sense of existing, a plenitude"; "finding value in the present and the actual.''ts These function-based ~precepts not only transcend image-based precepts; they also enable people to transcend who they are and to rise toward being who they are to be. Lonergan refers to these precepts as "the transcendental precepts." A Therapy of Love The question of how we should be does not end there. While people might rely on a diagnostic tool such as the enneagram to recognize self-defeating thoughts before they become actions, they also need a therapy to help recognize self-transcending thoughts and feelings. This means learning firsthand the differ-ence between the transcendental precepts and their opposites: between being attentive and being oblivious, being intelligent and being stupid, being reasonable and being silly, being respon-sible and being irresponsible, and being loving and being hateful. While anyone can recognize abstractly the contrast between these words, the right-hand members of the pairs conspire quite suc-cessfully to obscure their own functioning right behind our eyes. Fortunately, this conspiracy can be caught in the act. By know-ingly paying attention to the transcendental precepts, we can be more attentive to inner experience. We can be more intelligent about how certain cognitive errors and existential decisions sup-port our compulsions. We can be more reasonable as we admit the truth of how thoroughly our fixation may have dominated our psyches. We can be more responsible in accepting guilt that belongs to us, in shunning guilt that is unreasonable, and in sup-pressing what compulsions we can as they arise. Most wisely, we 526 Review for Religious can let our love for others take the lead more often, including and especially our love for God. When a person falls in love, he or she suddenly sees the exter-nal world as more beautiful, more full of potential, more worthy of respect and care. What has occurred, though, is not a change in the external world one views; it is a self-transcending change in the viewer. Being in love heals much of ~' what was crippled in the other four levels of the person's self-transcendence. That is, being in love gives courage to respon-sibility, realism to reason, insight to intel-ligence, and acumen to attention. The person has risen above the imprisoned self and realized something of the profound marvels of life, nature, and the friendly character of the universe. Love's healing power is evident in the love between friends, within a family, and among fellow citizens and members of a group. It is also evident in the love of God. People who have undergone a religious conversion, whether in a sudden inner revolution or a gradual takeover, experience three new powers. The~y see goodness where the unconverted see only evil. They feel a power to reach out to others at a higher risk to themselves than self-protecting reason would allow. And, after the worst setbacks, they find themselves soon on their feet, mys-teriously alive and submissive to the impulse to love again26 More can be said about the healing effects of religious love, but this milch illustrates how an analysis of our self-transcending acts clar-ifibs'what "being human" means and reveals the available powers that "o'ntic obscuration" obscures. Further analysis along these lines would complement any instance of healing with a thera-peutic theory consistent with religious love. Notice especially how the addition of this account of self-transcendence avoids the typi~cal trap of self-help psychologies. It makes clear that people do not help themselves all by them-selves. When i't is the self that needs help, "self-help" is a con-tradiction in terms. Genuine help must be imported. We rely on each other and we rely on God. In order to let go of our worries that our failures will be someh6w held against us, we rely on the fact that we are loved. Being in love gives courage to responsibility, realism to reason, insight to intelligence, and acumen to attention. Ju~-August199y 527 Dunne ¯ The Enneagram The work of making all this real for oneself is long and hard. It might go something like this: Suppose I typically play the Sensitive Artist, envious of the personas of others and absorbing my injuries in quiet melancholy. I should first keep a diary to log the times I notice my compulsion at work, in order to grow in the habit of noticing, t~nderstanding~ and gradually realizing how precisely my frustrated desire to be a notable person works. (Naranjo suggests that this work on autobiography may take three or four months.) ~7 At the same time, as I grow in self-realization, I should grow in self-responsibility. When I hear the inner voice saying "Be sensitive, be like so-and-so," I should say "Shut up!" and then bend an ear to the quieter voices of authenticity whis-pering, "Just be attentive, intelligent, reasonable, responsible, and in love. Being that is a quite good enough way to be your best." Then, alongside the inner work of self-reflection, I should let myself connect with others. Although Naranjo believes that his book can help a person avoid high-minded and patronizing therapists, I find it hard to imagine people really benefiting from it unless they talk about this inner work with others. Being con-nected to others means obeying the transcendental precept to Be in love. That means letting my love for others be the light that revdals what is truly worth doing, rather than mere consistency or some private ethical principle. Because genuine love heals irre-sponsibility, silliness, stupidity, and inattention, the test of genuine love will be just that: Does it make me more responsible, more ready to face truth, more functionally intelligent, more on the lookout for what really counts? If it does not, it is not love. The inner work also means letting myself be loved. For most of us, with our distorted self-images, this means facing the fact that despite our faults, despite the injuries we have caused others, the person who claims to love us is telling the truth. It means dropping the flimsy defense that "you don't really know me" and admitting that the point is not whether we are fully known, but whether we are appreciated and valued for ourselves. It means realizing that we will never be perfect, that we do not need to expend that much energy defending ourselves, that we do not even need to "fix" ourselves through diligent self-therapy. Unless we rely on God and other people for forgiveness, tolerance, and patience, no pathology or self-help therapy will work. This is only an example of finding our way home. Different people will find different paths. But at least knowing what being 528 Review.for Religious human is about shows us what our home looks like. Gradually-- never fully being, but always becoming, human--we will have returned. We can come in and go out as we please. We will have found our home's key: the house is no longer dark. Notes ~ Enneagram, coined from Greek, means "ninefold marking." 2 Capital means that the sins are principal or "head" (capita) sins from which people's other sins flow. Althofigh the enneagram seems to have arisen independently of the Christian tradition, seven of its compulsions match the seven capital sins. The remaining two are bogus morality (Accuser) and bogus success (Status Seeker). 3 No two authors agree on these generic names, but there is general agreement about the descriptions of each type~ Devotees often refer just to the number, as in "She's a raving Two!" (a Helper). 4 See C.G. Jung, Paychological Types (New York: Harcourt, Brace, and Co., 1926), chap. 10. Isabel Briggs Myers and her mother, Katharine C. Briggs, developed the fourth pair of preferences, judging and perceiv-ing, based on further observations made byJung. Note that they realize that its usefulness applies mainly to the young. See Isabel Briggs Myers, Introduction to Type (Gainesville, Florida: Center for Publications' of Psychological Types, 1962), p. 8. s The works on which I have based my remarks are: Maria Beesing et al., The Enneagram: A Journey of Self Discovery (Denville: Dimension Books, 1984); Kathleen Hurley and Theodore Dobson, What's My Type? Use the Enneagram and My Best Self (HarperSanFrancisco, 1991 and 1993); Claudio Naranjo, Ennea-Type Structures: Self-Analysis for the Seeker and Character and Neurosis: An Integrative View (Nevada City: Gateways, 1990 and 1994); Helen Pahner, The Enneagram (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1988); Don Richard Riso, Personality Types: Using the Enneagram for Self-Discovery (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1987). I have also relied on various notes taken by students participating in workshops given by Naranjo and others who derive the substance of their doctrine from him. 6 An exception'is Hurley and Dobson, My Best Self, identifying two distinct compulsions in both the Status Seeker and the Accuser, making a total of eleven compulsions. In .any case, there are no enneagram the-orists I know of who have dealt with the fundamental problem of how to set a limit to types. If there is such a limit, then the types will have to be defined by a set of psychological conditions that are limited and verifiable. For example, Karen Horney's division of three reactions to conflict (against people, toward people, away from people) might be matched against three I-world comparisons (bigger than, equal to, smaller than) to generate exactly nine types. Or against the trio Denial, Overconfidence, Underconfidence. The trio Ignorance, Craving, and Fear seems to under-lie Naranjo's thinking. There are many possibilities. This kind of work will 3~ly-August 1995 529 Dunne ¯ The Enneagram be necessary if the professional psychological community is ever to give credence to the theory and, more to the point, if the theory is ever to be shown to explain the actual range of human compulsions. 7 Gurdjieff, the teacher of this model of personality, claims to have discovered the enneagram in the Sufi tradition, but there is little evi-dence in Sufism of any of the heavy interpretative overlay that it now carries. Gurdjieff's confidence in the diagram seems based on numerol-ogy rather than experiment, and he expected that the diagram could rep-resent any human or natural process. 8 Diagnostic and Stat#tical Manual of Mental Disorders III (Washington, D.C.: American Psychiatric Association, 1987). 0 9 See Albert Ellis, Reason and Emotion in Psychotherapy (New York: Lyle Stuart, 1963), chap. 3, "Irrational Ideas Which Cause and Sustain Emotional Disturbances," pp, 60-88. l0 The reader should note inconsistencies in the enneagram designs. In Naranjo's Character and Neurosis, pp. 199 and 245, and throughout his Ennea-Type Structures, the triangle arrows run clockwise. Everywhere else in Character and Neurosis, they run counterclockwise. tt Naranjo, Ennea-Type Structures, pp. xix-xx, and Character and Neurosis, p 36. Hereafter page references will be to Ennea-Type Structures, with corresponding references to Character and Neurosis in italics. ~2 See pp. 30/61 and 63/219. He also describes ontic obscuration as: "obscuration . . . of the natural, original, and truest support for one's sense of personal value" (45/196); "the universal pain of fallen con-sciousness, beyond type-bound characteristics" (45/196); "lack of ground-ingin being" (107/197); and "loss of wholeness and sense of being" (138/150). o 13 Walter Burghardt SJ notes that John Courtney Murray relies on this distinction to clarify how weak the old Catholic reliance on dogma-tism really was. See "The Richness of a Resource," in A Spirituality for Contemporary Life, ed. David L. Fleming SJ (St. Louis: Review for Religious, 1991). Murray may well have relied on Lonergan's Insight (New York: Philosophical Library, 1958) for this notion (for which, see real in its index). 14 See Method in Theology (New York: Herder and Herder, 1972), pp. 53, 55, and passim. I have developed these notions more at length in Lonergan and Spirituality (Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1985) and Spiritual Mentoring (HarperSanFrancisco, 199 I). Is Naranjo, pp. 47/197, 92/94, and 125/173. 16 These powers are traditionally called faith, charity, and hope. I have avoided the traditional terms in an effort to avoid conceptualism and to make clear how religious love heals the injured psyche. 17 Naranjo, p. 158/275. 530 Review for Religious MARY WINIFRED Imaging Spiritual Direction Ipn spite of a plethora of spiritual direction programs pur-orting to train those who would be spirithal directors, it remains a fact that gifts of direction are just that--gifts, not learned skills. Spiritual direction involves listening and hearing, discernment, clarity of vision, and assistance in the development of a relationship between an 'individual and God. While learned skills may assist a spiritual director, it is only deep sensitivity devel-oped through years of personal prayer that enables true spiritual direction. It is often easier to say what spiritual direction is not, than to describe what it is. For example, spiritual direction is not psychotherapy; it is not life skills taught by a social worker; it is not catechistic training for specific church membership. " In a pamphlet entitled Spiritual Direction, Henri Nouwen says: "It is of great value to submit our prayer life from time to time to the supervision of a spiritual guide. A spiritual director in this strict sense is not a counselor, a therapist, or an analyst, but a mature fellow Christian to whom we choose to be accountable for our spiritual life and from whom we can expect prayerful guid-ance in our constant struggle to discern God's active presence in our lives, A spiritual director can be called 'soul friend' (Kenneth I2eech) or a" 'spiritual friend' (Tilden Edwards). It is important that he or she practice the disciplines of the Church and the Book and thus become familiar with.the space in which we try to listen to God's voice. The way we relate to our spiritual director depends very much on our needs, our personalities, and external circum-stances. Some people may want to see their spiritual director Mary Winifred CtlS is the Sister-in-Charge of St. Cuthbert's Retreat House; Federal Hill Road; Brewster, New York 10509. ¯ July-August 199Y S31 Winifred ¯ Imaging Spiritual Direction biweekly or monthly, others will find it sufficient to be in touch only when the occasion asks for it. Some people may feel the need for a more extensive sharing with their spiritual director, while others will find seeing him or her once in a while for a few short moments to be sufficient. It is essential that one Christian helps another Christian to enter without fear into the presence of God and there to discern God's call" (8-9). Because the singular aim of spiritual direction is to assist in growth toward God, there are no set guidelines, no conventional measuring sticks, no right or wrong answers, and no concretely attainable goals. While training in prayer and meditation may certainly make one a more articulate spiritual director, neverthe-less spiritual direction remains a vocation unfettered by rules and regulations, by industry standards, or by a financial fee scale. Most spiritual directees practice St. Paul's suggestion in the Letter to the Galatians, "Those who are taught the word must share in all good things with their teacher" (6:6), by making some gift to their directors: homemade bread, flowers from the garden, a book or tape, or some other item; money does not usually enter into a spiritual direction agreement, nor should it. Unlike therapy or counseling, which are professional relationships between a ther-apist or counselor and a client, spiritual direction is a relation-ship of charity and generosity between fellow Christians. Spiritual gifts cannot be purchased; they are not for sale. Three images of the spiritual life may help to indicate ways in which the presence of a director (or mentor or soul friend) may effectively aid us in our growth Godwards. The first image, offered by Thomas H. Green, is :that of a marketplace. The marketplace--or, as Green also labels it, the ldtchen!--is the part of our lives that encompasses a multitude of small, necessary, sometimes tedious tasks which can seem to draw us away from the richness and quiet of our interior lives. "Frequently," Green says, "the demands and frustrations of the apostolate, or of raising a family and earning a living, seem to be merely obstacles to a genuine and deep prayer life. But if I am right in explaining the way the Lord works through these exter-nal activities and events, then we should see them quite differ-ently. Far from being obstacles to our interior growth, they become for us the very sandpaper of our sanctification, at least as important to our growth as what happens in the solitude of for-mal prayer" (121). 532 Review for Religious These are not particularly comfortable thoughts, especially for those of~us who would like to discover a large block of unin-terrupted quiet. Often it is only with the help of a wise spiritual director that we can begin to uncover and acknowledge the wealth of spiritual graces hidden in our routine daily tasks and to see opportunities in what have earlier appeared to be only obstacles. Another, who listens with detached concern, will not only listen to the occasional frustration, tiredness, or boredom in our every-day tasks, but will also hear the voice of God calling to us from what may, on the surface, seem to be 'merely dull routine. As surely as God works in this world, God is also available to us in our work, however .tedious and distracting our marketplace--or kitchen--may feel at times. Another ancient and popular image for the spiritual life is that of a journey or pilgrimage. John Gorsuch describes such a spiri-tual journey as a moving out from a place of assumed comfort, beckoned on by God into the unknown. The image of a journey is particularly apt if considered in its various stages: there is a beginning, with its preparations and planning; the travel itself; and the goal of the journey. In the early stages of beginning a journey, there may be excitement and feverish planning--a guide is helpful here in focusing our attention and helping us to leave behind our unnecessary baggage. I once watched my sister prepar-ing for a backpacking trip: with the advice of an experienced back-packer friend, she was encouraged to take only the essential objects, leaving her backpack light enough to carry and yet stocked with exactly what she would need. But traveling, no matter how well it is planned and prepared, is nevertheless an adventure into the unknown. Often we must stop to ask for directions or other help. In traveling this may be as simple as "Yes, you're on the right road" or "Two more blocks Because the singular aim of spiritual direction is to assist in growth toward God, there are no set guidelines, no conventional measuring sticks, no right or wrong answers, and no concretely attainable goals. July-August 199Y 533 Winifred ¯ Imaging Spiritual Direction and then turn left"; on a spiritual journey, as simple as "Keep lis-tening in your prayer" or "Look in the mirror every morning: you will see a person God loves profoundly." If we are fortunate enough to have a good and reliable guide or director, we are soon back on track. At times, too, the journey's route may seem long and wearisome--turning aside or even giving up altogether may look like the most positive option. Then a wise mentor's word of encouragement may challenge and enliven us to continue with new energy and zeal. And then there is the goal to our journey. Sometimes we are so caught up in the travel itself that we lose sight of the goal. A friend and I once planned to spend a restful week together; iron-ically, we also planned too many sight-seeing activities, with the result that the true goals of the week--to ,rest and enjoy each other's company--were lost. So, on a spiritual journey, it is easy to be distracted by circumstances and surroundings from our true goal of knowing God. We need a wise and discerning director to help us in maintaining a clarity of vision about our goal. A third image is that of epiphany. Adrian van Kaam, from whom I have borrowed this image, describes an epiphany as the "shining forth of eternity in daily people, in often unnoticed events and things" (8). It is an epiphany that comes through in the openness and vulnerability of spiritual direction. Van Kaam goes on to say: "The risen Lord is our life now. Our life must become a hymn of praise to Jesus rising in us . Jesus tells us that the kingdom of God is at hand in each of us. It is already here and now, for we are called to share his resurrection in humanity and history" (65). And surely this is the heart of spiritual direction, that one Christian shares freely with another a word of help, a message of encouragement, a glimpse of eternity. Bibliography Gorsuch, John R An Invitation to the Spiritual Journey. Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1990. Green, Thomas H. Darkness in the Marketplace. Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1981. Nouwen, Henri. Spiritual Direction. Cincinnati: Forward Movement Publications, 1981. Van Kaam, Adrian. The Music of Eternity. Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1990, 534 Review for Religious MARY C. SULLIVAN The Brazier That Is My God: Teresa on True Prayer's Dispositions, Gifts, and Signs It is 2 June 1577. Teresa of Avila is, in effect, under house arrest in the convent of the Discalced Carmelites in Toledo, Spain--a community she founded in 1569.1 She has been on the road for almost ten years, establishing reformed monasteries of Carmelite women and even of Carmelite men committed to the poverty, silence, soli-tude, penance, prayer, and detachment she believes are envisioned in the primitive Rule. But now for the last year she has been ordered to remain in one of her convents (she chooses Toledo) because of political tensions between the Calced and Discalced Carmelites. She is regarded by the Calced as a ringleader who must be kept out of cir-culation. To add to her isolation, on 18 June 1577 the papal nuncio Nicol~is Ormaneto, who has been friendly to the reform, will die, and his successor, Felipe Sega, will come to Spain in August already prejudiced against Teresa and her work. He will later call her "a. restless gadabout woman, disobedient and stubborn, who under the cloak of devotion invented wicked opinions, going about breaking enclosure, contrary to the decree of the Council of Trent and the orders of her superiors, teaching as if she were a doctor, in contempt of the teaching of St. Paul, who com-manded women not to teach."2 Mary C. Sullivan RSM works in the College of Liberal Arts of Rochester Institute of Technology. She may be addressed at Sisters of Mercy; 18 Upton Park; Rochester, New York 14607. heritage j~uly-August 1995 535 Sullivan ¯ The Brazier That Is My God Prologue But now, in early June 1577, during her enforced reclusion, Teresa is in Toledo, writing a book on prayer at the request of her confessor, Jer6nimo Gracifin, a Discalced priest. By the end of July, after one month of work on Las Moradas (The Interior Castle, or The Dwelling Places3), she will be recalled to Avila, where against her own desire she has again been elected prioress of Incarnation, the Carmelite convent she entered as a young woman and from which in 1562 she will found San Jos4, the first convent of the Reform, across town in Avila. But the Carmelite authorities do not want Teresa to be the prioress of Incarnation. They will call for a second vote, and when fifty-four sisters at Incarnation persist in electing Teresa, these sisters will be ex-communicated and denied the sacraments. On 3 December of this same year, John of the Cross, the confessor and spiritual director at Incarnation, will be abducted from Avila at night by Calced friars and taken to the windowless closet cell in the Toledo monastery of the Calced Carmelites where he will remain impris-oned for six months. Simultaneous with all this, the modern form of the Spanish Inquisition is in full swing in Seville, having been operating as a powerful ecclesiastical tribunal for almost a hundred years. The manuscript of Teresa's Life has been in the Inquisition's possession for two years, after being denounced to it by the dis-appointed and vindictive Princess of Eboli.4 In the midst of all this difficulty, most of which deeply dis-tressed her, in the six-month period from 2 June to 29 November 1577 (which will actually amount to only two months of writing time), Teresa will start and complete her masterwork, The Dwelling Places, the treatise on prayer and virtue which more than any other of her writings led Pope Paul VI in 1970 to declare her a doctor of the universal church. Not once in this volume does Teresa refer explicitly to the external affairs which weigh so heavily on her mind and heart, though her letters of this period amply demon-strate her concern, and dismay. Rather, in this magnificent book about a human person's gradually increasing communion with the God dwelling within her, Teresa speaks about the prayer of per-sonal conversion, the prayer of reordering and reordered charity within the human heart. And so The Dwelling Places is a book which may contribute immeasurably to the present-day conversion of the church, of religious life, and of the hearts of individual Christian women and men. 536 Review for Reli

Issue 43.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1984. ; Pliz~hhihg :the N~Vitiate Process = °~i"~ !~ta~D o"es a Religious Institute Owe Its Members? :,~-~:: A Retreat for the Eighties Volume 43 Number 4 July/August, 1984 RE\'~w FOR Rl~.~(;~otJs ( ISSN 0034-639X). published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. I.ouis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428:3601 Lindell Blvd.: St. Louis. MO 63108. Rt-:v~l-:w t:oR Rl~t.l~;~otJs is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus. St. Louis. MO. © 1984 by Rl~v~l~w ~:OR Rl~l.l~;~Ot~S, Composed. printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. I.ouis. MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A. $10.00 a year: $19.00 for two years. Other countries: add $2.00 per ycar (postage). For subscription orders or change of address, write Rl-:Vll.:W ~-oR R~.:t.t~;~otls: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806, Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor July/August, 1984 Volume 43 Number 4 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be senl to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's University; City Avenue at 54th St.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVIEW I-'OR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprinls are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. Redemptionis Donum: An Expression of Love for Religious John Paul H In his letter of April 3, 1983, to the bishops of the United States inviting them "to render special pastoral service to the religious" of their dioceses and country, Pope John Paul wrote: ". as pastors of the Church, w~ must proclaim over and over again that the vocation to religious life God gives is linked to his personal love for each and every religious." Redemptionis'Donum is a solemn instance of his own efforts to do just that. As such, it forms a fitting cap to the series of articles REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS has been publishing in recent issu.es in support of.this episcopal ministry to religious. The text which follows is taken from Origins, April 12, 1984, vol. 13: no. 44. Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ Jesus: 1. The gift of the redemption, which this extraordinary Jubilee Year emphasizes, brings with it a particular call to conversion and reconciliation with God in Jesus Christ. While the outward reason for this extraordinary jubilee is of a historical nature--for what is being celebrated is the 1,950th Anniversary of the Crucifixion and Resurrection--at the same time it is the interior motive that is dominant, the motive that is connected with the very depth of the Mystery of the Redemption. The Church was born from that mystery, and it is by that mystery that she lives thrrughout her history. The period of the extraordinary jubilee has an .exceptional character. The call to conversion and reconciliation with God means that we must meditate more deeply on our life and our Christian vocationqn the light of the Mystery of the Redemption, in order to fix that lift and vocation ever more firmly in that mystery. While this call concerns everyone in the Church, in a special way it con-cerns you, men and women religious, who, in your consecration to God through the vows of the evangelical counsels, strive toward a particular fullness of Christian life. Your special Vocation, and the whole of your life in the 481 41~2 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 Church and the world, take their character and their spiritual power from the same depth of the Mystery of Redemption. By following Christ along the "narrow and., hard" way,~ you experience in an extraordinary manner how true it is that "with him is plenteous redemption" (copiosa apud eum redempti.o)? 2. Therefore, as this Holy Year moves toward its close, 1 wish to address myself in a particular way to all of you, men and women religious, who are entirely consecrated to contemplation or vowed to the various works of the apostolate. I have already done so in numerous places and on various occasions, confirming and extending the evangelical teaching contained in the whole of the Church's tradition, especially in the magisterium of the recent ecumenical council, from the dogmatic constitution ~Lumen Gentium to the decree Perfec-tae Caritatis, in the spirit of the indications of the apostolic exhortation Evan-gelica Testificatio of my predecessor Paul VI. The Code of Canon Law, which recently came into force and which can in a way be considered the final conciliar document, will be for all of you a valuable aid and a sure guide in concretely stating the means for faithfully and generously living your magnificent vocation in the Church. 1 greet you with the affection of the Bishop of Rome and Successor of St. Peter, with whom your communities are united in a characteristic way. From the same See of Rome there also reach you, with an unceasing echo, the words of St. Paul: "I betrothed you to Christ, to present you as a pure.bride to her one husband.'~ The Church, which receives, after the apostles, the treasure of marriage to the divine Spouse, looks with the greatest love toward all her sons and daugh-ters who, by the profession of the evangelical counsels and through her .own mediation, have made a special covenant with the Redeemer of the World. Accept this word of the Jubilee Year of the Redemption precisely as a word of love~ spoken by the Ch'urch for you. Accept it, wherever you may be: in the cloister, of the contemplative communities or in the commitment to the many different forms of apostolic service--in the missions, in pastoral work, in hospita!~s or other places where the suffering are served, in educational institu-tions: schools or Universities--in fact in every one of your houses where, "gathered in the name of Christ," you live in the knowledge that the Lord is "in your midst.TM May the Church's loxiing word, addressed to you in the Jubilee of the Redemption, be the reflection of that loving word that Christ himself said to each one of you when he spoke one day that mysterious "follow me"~ fxom which your vocation in the Church began. Vocation And Jesus, Looking Upon Him, Loved Him 3. "Jesus, looking upon him, loved himTM and said to him, "If you would Redemptionis Donum / 48:3 be perfect, go, sell what you have, and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.'n Even though we know that those words addressed to the rich young man were not accepted by the one being called, their content deserves to b~ carefully reflected upon, for they present the interior structure of a vocation. "And 3esus,~looking upon him, loved him." This is the love of the Redeemer: a love that flows from all the human and divine depths of the redemption. This love reflects the eternal love of the Father who "so loved the World that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.TM ,~ The Son, invested with that love, accepted the mission from the Father .in the Holy Spirit, and became the Redeemer of the World. The Father's love was revealed in the Son as a redeeming love. It is precisely this love that constitutes the true price of the redemption of man and of the world. Christ:s apostles speak of the price of the redemption with profound emotion: "You were ransomed., not with perishable things such as silver or gold, but with the precious blood of Christ, like that of a lamb without blemish or spot," writes St. Peter.9 And St. Paul states: "You were bought with a price."'° The call to the way of the evangelical counsels springs from the interior encounter with the love~ of Christ which is a redeeming love. Christ calls precisely through this love of his. In the structure of a vocation, the encounter with ,this love becomes ,something specifically personal. When Christ "looked upon you and loved you," calling each one of you, dear religious, that redeem-ing love of his was directed toward a particular person, and at the same time, it took on a spousal character: it became a love of choice. This love embraces the whole person, soul and body, whether man or woman, in that person's unique and unrepeatable, personal "1." The one who, given eternally to the Father, "gives" himself in the Mystery of the Redemp-tion, has now called a human person in order that he or she, in turn, should give himself or herself entirely to the work of the redemption through member-ship in a community of brothers or sisters, recognized and approved by the Church. Surely it is precisely to this call that St. Paul's words can be applied: "Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit.? You are not your own; you were bought with a price."~ Y~es, Christ's love has reached each one of you, dear Brothers and Sisters, with that same "price" of the redemption. As a consequence of this, you have realized that you are not your own, but you ~belong to Christ. This ,new awareness was the fruit of Christ's "loving look" into the secret place of your heart. You replied to that look by choosing him who first chose each one of you, calling you with the measurelessness of his. redeeming love. Since he calls "by name," his call always appeals to human freedom. Christ says: "If you wish . "And the response to this call i§, therefore, a free choice. You have chosen Jesus of Nazareth, Redeemer of the World, by choosing the way that he has shown you. tll~4 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 If You Wish to .Be Perfect. 4. This way is also called the, way of perfection. Speaking to the young man, Christ says: "If you wish to be perfect . "Thus theidea of the "way of perfection" has its motivation in the very Gospel source itself. Moreover, do we not hear, in the Sermon on the Mount: "You, therefore, must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect"?.~2 The calling of man to perfection was perceived in a certain way by the thinkers and moralists of the ancient world, and also afterward, at different periods of history. But the biblical call has a completely original nature. It is particularly demanding when it indicates to man perfection in the likeness of God °himself.~3 Precisely in this form; the call corresponds to the whole of the internal logic of revelation, according to which man was created in the image and likeness of God himself. He must therefore seek the perfection proper to him in the line of this image and likeness. As St. Paul will write in the Letter to the Ephesians: "Therefore be imitators of God as beloved children. And walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself upfor us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God."~4 Thus the call to perfection belongs to the very essence of the Christian vocation. It is on the basis of this call that we must also understand the words which Christ 'addressed to the young man in the Gospel. These words are in a particular way linked to the mystery of the redemp-tion of man in the world~ For this redemption gives back to God the work of creation which had been contaminated by sin--showing the perfection which the whole of creation, and in particular man, possesses in the thought and intention of God himself. Especially man must be given and restored to God if heis to be fully restored to himself. From this comes the eternal call: "Return to me, for I have redeemed you.''15 Christ's words, "If you wish to be perfect, go, sell what you have, and give to the poor" clearly brings us into the sphere of the evangelical counsel of poverty--which belongs to the very essence of the religious vocation and profession. At the same time, these words can,be understoodin a wider and, in sense, an essential way. The Teacher from Nazareth invites the person he is address-ing to renounce a program of life in which the first place is seen to be occupied by the category of possessing, of "h'aving," and to accept in its place a program centered upon the value of the human person, upon personal "being"---with all the transcendence that is proper to it. Such an understanding of Christ's words constitutes, as it were, a wider setting for the ideal of evangelical poverty, especially that poverty which, as an evangelical counsel, belongs to the essential content of your mystical marriage with the divine Spouse in the Church. Reading Christ's words in the light of the superiority of "being" over "having," especially if the latter is understobd in a materialistic and utilitarian Redemptionis Donum / 485 sense, we, as it were, touch the very anthropologial bases of vocation in the Gospel. In .the framework of the development of contemporary civilization, this is a particularly relevant discovery. And for this reason, the very vocation to "the way of perfection" as laid down. by Christ becomes equally relevant. In today's civilization, especially in the context of the world of a well-being that is based on consumerism, man bitterly experi¢nces the essential incom-pleteness of personal "being" which affects his humanity because of the abund-antand various forms of "having." He then becomes more inclined to accept this truth about vocation which was expressed once and for all in the Gospel. Yes, the call which you, dear Brothers and Sisters, accepted when you set out on the way of religious profession touches upon the very roots of human-ity, the roots of man's destiny in the temporal world. The evangelical "state of perfection'~ does not cut you off from these roots. On the contrary, it enables you to anchor yourselves even more firmly ih the elements that make man man, permeating this humanity which, in various ways, is burdened by sin, with the divine and human leaven of the Mystery of Redemption. You Will Have Treasure in Heaven " Vocation carries with it th6 answer to the question: Why be a human person--and how? This answer adds a new dimension to the whole of life and establishes its definitive meaning. This meaning emerges against the back-grou'nd of the Gospel paradox of losing one's life in order to save it--and on the other hand, saving one's life by losing it "for Christ's sake and for the sake of the Gospel," as we read in Mark.t6 In the light of these words Christ's call becomes perfectly clear: "Go, sell what you possess ~nd give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.''t7 Between this "go" and the subsequent "come, follow me'; there is a close connection. It can be said that these latter words determine the very essence of a vocation. For a vocation is a matter of following the footsteps of Christ (sequi: to follow, hence sequela Christi). The terms "go. sell.' give" seem to lay down the precondition of a vocation. Nevertheless, this condition is not "external" to a vocation, but is already inside it. For a person, discovers the new sense of his or her humanity, not only in order "to follow" Christ, but to the extent that he or she actually does follow him. When a person does "sell what he possesses" and "gives it to the poor," he discovers that those possessions, and the comforts he enjoyed, were not the treasure to hold on to. That treasure is in his heart, which Christ makes him capable of"giving" to others b~y the giving of self. The rich person is not the one who possesses, but the one who "gives," the one who is capable of giving. At this point tile Gospel paradox becomes particularly expressive. It becomes a program of being. To be poor in the sense given to this "being" by 4116 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 the Teacher from Nazareth is to become a dispenser of good through one's own human condition. This also means to discover "the treasure." This treasure is indestructible. It passes, together with man, into the dimension of the eternal. It belongs to the divine eschatology of man. Through this treasure man has his definitive future in God. Christ says: "You will have treasuie in.heaven." This treasure is not so much a "reward" after death for the good works done following the example of the Divine Teacher, but rather the eschatological fulfillment of what was liidden in these good works here on earth, in the inner "treasure" of the heart. Christ himself, in fact, when he invited his hearers, in the Sermon on the Mount, ~s to store up treasure in heaven, added: "For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also."~9 These words indicate the eschatological character of the Christian vocation. They indicate even more the eschatological nature of the vocation that is realized through spiritual marriage to Christ by the practice of the evangelical counsels. 6. The structure of this vocation, as seen from the Words addressed to the young man in the synoptic gospels,20 is traced little by little as one discovers the fundamental treasure of one's own humanity in the perspective of that "trea-sure" which man "has in heaven." In this perspective, the fundamental treasure of one's own humanity is connected to the fact of "being, by giving oneself." The direct point of reference in such a vocation is the living person of Jesus Christ. The call to ~the way of perfection takes shape from him, and through him in the Holy Spirit who continually "recalls" to new people, men~and women--at different times of their lives, but especially in their youth--all that Christ "has saidTM and especially what he "said" to the yo.ung man who asked him: "Teacher, what good deed must ! do to h~ve eternal life?"~2 Throughthe reply of Christ, who "looks upon" his questioner "with love," the strong leaven of the Mystery of the Redemption penetrates the consciousness~, heart and will of one who is searching with truth and sincerity. Thus the call to the way of the evangelical counsels always has its begin-ning in God: "You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you that you should go and bear fruit and that your fruit should abide."~3 The vocation in which a person discovers in depth.the evangelical law of giving, a law inscribed in human nature, is itself a gift. It is a gift overflowing with the deepest content of the Gospel, a gift which reflects the divine and human image of the Mystery of the Redemption. "In this is love, not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be thb expiation for our sins.TM A "Fuller Expression"of Baptismdi Consecration 7. Your vocation, dear Brothers and Sisters, has led you to religious pro-fession, whereby you have been consecrated to God through the ministry of Redemptionis Donum / 487 the Church, arid tiave been at the same time incorporated into your religious family. Hence the Church thinks of you, above all, as persons who are "conse-crated": consecrated to God in Jesus Christ as his exclusive possession. This consecration determines your place in the vast community of the Church, the People of God. And at the same time, this consecration introduces into the universal mission of this people a special source of spiritual and supernatural energy: a particular style of life, witness and apostolate, in fidelity to the mission of your institute and.to its identity and spiritual heritage. The universal mission of the People of God is rooted in the messianic mission of Christ himself--prophet, priest and king--a mission in which all share in different ways. The form of sharing proper to "consecrated" persons corresponds to your manner of being rooted in Christ. The depth and power of this being rooted in Christ is decided precisely by religious profession. Religious p~ofession creates a new bond between the person and the one and triune God in Jesus Christ. This bond develops on the foundation of the original bond that is contained in the sacrament of baptism. Religious profes-sion "is deeply rooted in baptisma.I consecration and is a fuller expression of it.'~ In this way religious profession, in its constitutive content, becomes a new consecration: the consecration and giving of the human person to God, loved above all else. The commitment undertaken by means of the vows to practice the evangelical counsels of chastity, poverty and obedience, according to the determinations proper to each religious family as laid down in the constitutions, is the expression of a total consecration to God and, at the same time, the means that leads to its achievement. This is also the source of the manner proper to consecrated .persons of bearing witness and of exercising the aposto-late. And yet it is necessary :to seek the roots of that conscious and~free consecration and of the subsequent giving of self to God as his possession in baptism, the sacrament that leads us to the~paschal mystery as the apex and center of the redemption ac,~omplished by Christ. Therefore, in order to highlight fully the reality of religious professions, we must turn to the vibrant ~,ords of St. Paul in the Letter to the Romans: "Do you,no~t know. that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, so that like Christ. we too might walk into the newness of life";26 "our old self was crucifiedowith him so that., we might no longer be enslaved by sin";27 so you also must consider yourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus?s Upon the sacramental basis of baptism in which it is rooted, religious profession is a new ~'burial in the death of Christ": new, because it is made with awareness and by choice; new, because of love and vocation; new, by reason of unceasing "conversion." This "burial in death" causes the person "buried together with Christ" to "walk like Christ in newness of life." In Christ crucified is to be found the ultimate foundati,~n both of baptismal consecration 41111 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 and of the profession of the evangelical counsels which--in tile words of the Second Vatican Council--"constitutes a special consecration." It is at one and the same time both death and liberation. St. Paul writes: "Consider yourselves dead to sin." At the same time he calls this death "freedom from the slavery of sin." Above all, though, religious consecration, through its sacramental foundation in holy baptism, constitutes a new life "for God in Jesus Christ." In this way, simultaneously with the' profession of the evangelical counsels, in a much more mature and conscious manner "the old nature is put off," and likewise "the new nature is put on, created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness," to use once more the words of the Letter tothe l~phesians.29 A Covenant of Spousal Love 8. Thus, then, dear Brothers and Sisters--all of you who, throughout the Church, live the covenant of the evangelical counsels-~-renew in this Holy Year of the Redemption your awareness of your special sharing in the Redeemer's death on the cross--that sharing through which ~you have risen with him, and continually rise with him, to a new life. The Lord speaks to each of you, just as he once spoke through the prophet Isaiah: Fear not, for i have redeemed you: ' ~ I have called you by name, you are mine.a0 The evangelical call: "If you would be perfect., follow meTM guides us with the light of the words of the divine Teacher. From th~ depth of the redemption there comes Christ's call, and from that depth it teaches the human soul. By virtue of the grace of the redemption, this saving call assumes in the soul Of the person called the actual form of the professioh of the evangelical counsels. In this.form is contained your answer to the call .of redeeming love, and it is also an answer of love: a love of self-giving--which is the heart of consecration, of the consecration of the person. The words of Isaiah "I have redeemed you., you are mine"--seem toseal precisely this love, which is the love of a total and exclusive consecration to God. This is how the special covenant of spousal love is made, in which we seem to hear an unceasing echo of the words concerning Israel whom the Lord "has chosen as his own possession.'~2 For in every consecrated person the Israel of the New and Eternal Covenant is chosen. The whole messianic People, the entire Church, is chosen in every person whom the Lord selects from the midst of this people; in every person who is consecrated,for everyone, to God as his exclusive possession. While it is true that not even the greatest saint can repeat the words of Christ: "For their sake I consecrate myself"33 in the full redemptive force of these words, nevertheless, through self-giving love, through the offering of Redemptionis Donum / 489 oneself to God as his exclusive possession, each one can, through faith, stand within the radius of these words. Are we not reminded of this by the other words of the Apostle in the Letter to the Romans that we so often repeat and meditate upon: "I appeal to you therefore, brethren, by the mercy of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship"?.34 These words are, as it were, a distant echo of the one who, when he comes into the world and becomes man, says to the Father: "You have prepared a body for me. ~. Lo, I have come to do your will, O God.'~5 In this particular context of the Jubilee Year of the Redemption, let us, then, go back again to the mystery of the body and soul of Christ as the complete subject of spousal and redemptive love--spousal because redemp-tive. For love he offered himself; for love he gave his body "for the sin of the world." By immersing yourselves in the paschal mystery of the Redeemer through the consecration of the religious vows, you desire, through the love of total giving, to fill your souls and your bodies with the spirit of sacrifice---even as St. Paul invites you to do in the words of the Letter to the Romans just quoted: "To offer your bodies as a sacrifice.'~6 In this way, the likeness of that love which, in the heart of Christ, is both redemptive and spousal, is imprinted on the religious profession. And such love should fill each of you, dear Brothers and Sisters, from the very source of thatparticularconsecration which--on the sacramental basis of holy baptism-- is the beginning of your new life in Christ and in the Church: it is the beginning of the new creation. Together with this love, may there grow deeper in each one of you the joy of belonging exclusively to God, of being a particular inheritance of the most Holy Trinity: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Now and then repeat with the psalmist the inspired words: Whom else have I in heaven? And when ! am with you, the earth delights me not. Though my flesh and my heart waste away, God is the'rock of my heart" and my portion foreverP7 Or 1 say to the Lord, My Lord are you. Apart from you I have no good. O Lord, my allotted portion and my cup, You it is who hold fast my lot,3s May the knowledge of belonging to God himself in Jesus Christ, the Redeemer of the World and the Spouse of the Church, seal your hearts39 and all your thoughts, words, and deeds, with the sign of the biblical spouse: As you know, this intimate and profound knowledge of Christ is actuated 490 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 and grows deeper day by day through the life.of personal, community and liturgical prayer proper to each of your religious families. In this, too--and especially so--the men and women religious who are dedicated essentially to contemplation are a powerful aid and a stimulating support for their brothers and sisters devoted to the works of the apostolate. May this knowledge of belonging to Christ open your hearts, thoughts and deeds, with the key of the Mystery of the Redemption, to all the sufferings, needs and hopes of individuals and of the world--in the midst of which your evangelical consecration has been planted as a particular sign of the presence of God, for whom all live,40 embraced by the invisible dimension of this kingdom. The words "Follow me"--spoken by Christ when he "looked upon and loved" each one of you, dear Brothers and Sisters--also have this meaning: you take part, in the most complete and radical way possible, in the shaping of that new creation,4~ which must emerge from the redemption of the world, by means of the power of the Spirit of Truth operating from the abundance of the Paschal Mystery of Christ. Evangelical Counsels The Economy of Redemption 9. Through your profession the way of evangelical counsels opens up before each one of you. In the Gospel there are many exhortations that go beyond the measures of the commandment, indicating not only what is "neces-sary," but what is "better." Thus, for example, the exhortation not to judge,42 to lend "expecting nothing in return,'~3 to comply with all the requests and desires of our neighbor,44 to invite the poor to a meal?5 to pardon always,46 and many other invitations. If, in accordance with tradition, the profession of the evangelical counsels has concentrated on the three points of chastity, poverty and obedience, this usage seems to give clear enough emphasis to their importance as key ele-ments, and, as a kind of "summing up" of the entire economy of salvation. Everything in the Gospel that is a counsel enters indirectly into the pro-gram of that way to which Christ calls when he says: "Follow me." But chastity, poverty and obedience give to this way a particular Christocentric characteristic, and imprint upon it a specific sign of the Economy of Redemption. Essential to this "economy" is the transformation of the entire cosmos, through the heart of man, i'rom within: "For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God. and will be set free from its bondage to decay, and obtain the glorious liberty of the children of God.'~7 This transformation takes place in step with that love which Christ's call infused in the depths of the individual, in step with that love which constitutes the very substance of consecration: a man or woman's vowing of self to God in religious profession, on the foundation of the sacramental consecration of baptism. Redemptionis Donum / 49"1 We can discover the bases of the economy of redemption by reading the words of the First Letter of St. John: Do not love the world or the things of the world. If anyone loves the world, love for the Father is not in him. For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh and the lust of the eyes and the pride of life, is not of the Father, but is of the world. And the world passes away, and the lust of it: but he who does the will of God abides forever.'~ Religious profession places in the heart of each one of you, dear Brothers and Sisters, the love of the Father, that love which is in the heart of Jesus Christ, the Redeemer of the World. It is love which embraces the world and everything in it that comes from the Father, and which at the same time tends to overcome in the world everything that "does not come from the Father." It tends therefore to conquer the threefold lust. "The lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes and the pride of life" are hidden within man as the inheritance of original sin, as a result of which the relationship with the world, created by God and given to man to be ruled by him,49 was disfigured in the human heart in various ways: In the economy of redemption the evangelical counsels of chastity, poverty and obedience constitute the most radical means for trans-forming in the human heart this relationship with "the world": with the exter-nal world and with one's personal "1," which in some way is the central part "of the world" in the biblical sense, if what "does not come from the Father" begins within it. Against the background .of the phrases taken from the First Letter of St. John, it is not difficult to see the fundamental importance of the three evangel-ical counsels in the whole economy of redemption. Evangelical chastity helps us to transform in our interior life everything that has it sources in the lust of the flesh; evangelical poverty, everything that finds its source in the lust of the eyes; and evangelical obedience enables us to transform in a radical way that which in the human heart arises from the pride of life. We are deliberately speaking here of an overcoming as a transformation, for the entire economy of the redemption is set in the framework of the words spoken in the priestly prayer to the Father: "1 do not ask you to take them out of the world, but to guard them from the evil one."~0 The evangelical counsels in their essential purpose aim at "the renewal of creation": "The world," thanks to them, is to be subjected to man and given to him in such a way that man himself may be perfectly given to God. Participation in the Self-Emptying of Christ 10. The internal purpose of the evangelical counsels leads to the discovery of yet other aspects that emphasize the close connection of the counsels with the economy of redemption. We know that the economy of redemption finds its culminating point in the paschal mystery of Jesus Christ, in whom there are joined self-emptying through death and birth to a new life through the Resur-rection. The practice of the evangelical counsels contains a deep reflection of this paschal duality;5~ the inevitable destruction of what in each of us is sin and 492 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 its inheritance; and the possibility of being reborn each day to a more pro-found good hidden in the human soul. This good is manifested under the action of grace, toward which the practice of chastity, poverty and obedience renders the human soul particularly sensitive. The entire economy of redemp-tion is realized precisely through this sensitivity to the mysterious action of the Ho!y Spirit, the direct author of all holiness. Along this path the profession of the evangelical counsels opens out in each one of you, dear Brothers and Sisters, a wide space for the "new creation"~z that emerges in your human 'T' precisely from the economy of the redemption and, through this human "I," also into the interpersonal and social dimensions. At the same time it emerges in humanity as part of the world created by God, that world that the Father loved "anew" in the eternal Son, the Redeemer of the World. Of this Son St. Paul says that "though he was in the form of God. he emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men."53 The characteristic of self-emptying contained in the practice of the evangelical counsels is therefore a .completely Christocentric characteristic. And for this reason also the Teacher from Nazareth explicitly indicates the cross as the condition for following in his footsteps, He who once said to each one of you "Follow me" has also said: "If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me" (that is to say, walk in my footsteps).54 And he said this to all his listeners, not just to the disciples. The law of renunciation belongs therefore to the very essence of the Chris-tian vocation. But it belongs in a particular way to the essence of the vocation linked to the profession of the evangelical counsels. To those who walk the way of this vocation, even those difficult expressions that we read in the Letter to the Philippians speak in comprehensible language: For him "I have suffered the loss of all things, and count them as refuse, in order that I may gain Christ and be-found in him.'~5 Renunciation therefore--the reflection of the mystery of Calvary--in order "to be" more fully in the crucified and risen Christ; renunciation in order to recognize fully in him the mystery of one's own human nature and to confirm this on the path of that wonderful process of which the same apostle writes in another place: "Though our outer nature is wasting away, our inner nature is being renewed every day.'~6 In this way the economy of the redemp-tion transfers the power of the paschal mystery to the level of humanity, docile to Christ's call to life in chastity, poverty and obedience, that is, to a. life according to the evangelical counsels. Chastity, Poverty, ,Obedience II. The paschal character of this call makes itself known from various points of view in connection with each individual .counsel. Chastity It is indeed according to the measure of the economy of the redemption Redemptionis Donum / 493 that one must also judge and practice that chastity which each of you has promised by vow, together with poverty and obedience. There is contained in this the response to Christ's words, which are at the same time an invitation: "There are eunuchs who have made themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. He who is able to receive this, let him receive it. Prior to this Christ has emphasized: "Not all men can receive this saying, but only those to whom it is given."~s These last words clearly show that this invitation is a counsel. To this also the apostle Paul devoted a special reflection in the First Letter to the Corinthians.59 This counsel is addressed in a particular way to the love of the human heart. It places greater emphasis on the spousal character of this love, while poverty and still more obedience seem to emphasize primarily the aspect of redemptive love contained in religious consecration. As you know, it is a question here of chastity in the sense "of making themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven," a question, that is, of virginity or celibacy as an expression of spousal love for the Redeemer himself. In this sense the apostle teaches that they "do well" who choose matrimony, but they "do better who choose virginity.'~° "The unmarried man is anxious about the affairs of the Lord, how to please the Lord,'~ and "the unmarried woman or girl is anxious about the affairs of the Lord, how to be holy in body and spirit."62 There is contained neither in the words of Christ nor in those of Paul any lack of esteem for matrimony. The evangelical counsel of chastity is only an indication of that particular possibility which, for the human heart, whether of a man or of a woman, constitutes the spousal love of Christ himself, of Jesus the "Lord." "To make themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven" is not in fact merely a free renunciation of marriage and family life, but a charismatic choice of Christ as one's exclusive spouse. This choice not only specifically enables one to be "anxious about the affairs of the Lord;" but--when it is made "for the kingdom of heaven"---it brings this eschatologi-cal kingdom of God close to the life of all people in the conditions of temporal-ity and makes it in a certain way present in the midst of the world. In this way consecrated persons accomplish the interior purpose of the entire economy of the redemption. For this purpose expresses itself in bringing near the kingdom of God in its definitive, eschatoiogical dimension. Through the vow of chastity consecrated persons share in the economy of the redemp-tion through the free renunciation of the temporal joys of married and family life; on the other hand, precisely by their "having made themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven," they bring into the midst of this passing world the announcement of the future resurrection63 and of eternal life: life in union with God himself through the beatific vision and the love which contains in itself and completely pervades, all the other loves of the human heart. Poverty 12. How very expressive, in the. matter of poverty, are the words of the 494 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 Second Letter to the Corinthians, which constitute a concise synthesis of all that we hear on this theme in the Gospel: "For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yete for your sake he became poor, so that by his poverty you might become rich.TM According to these words, poverty actually enters into the interior structure of the redemptive grace of Jesus Christ. Without poverty, it is not possible to understand the mystery of the gift of divinity to man, a gift which is accomplished precisely in Jesus Christ. For this reason also it is found at the very center of the Gospel, at the beginning of the message of the eight Beatitudes: "Blessed are the poor in spirit."~5 Evangelical poverty reveals to the eyes of the human soul the perspec-tive of the whole mystery, "hidden for ages in God.'~6 Only those who are "poor" in this way are also interiorly capable of understanding the poverty of the One who is infinitely rich. The poverty of Christ conceals in itself this infinite richness of God; it is indeed an infallible expression of it. A richness, in fact, such as the divinity itself, could not have been adequately expressed in any created good. It can be expressed only in poverty. Therefore it can be properly understood only by the poor, the poor in spirit. Christ; the God-man, is the first of these: He who, "though he was rich became poor," is not only the teacher, but also the spokesman and guarantor of that salvific poverty which corresponds to the infinite richness of God and to the inexhaustible power of his grace. And thus is it also true--as the apostle writes--that "by this poverty we have become rich." It is the teacher and spokesman of poverty who makes us rich. For this very reason he says to the young man.of the synoptic gospels: "Sell what you possess and give . and you will have treasure in heaven.'~7 In these words there is a call to enrich others through one's own poverty. But in the depths of this call there is also hidden the testimony of the infinite richness of God which, transferred to the human soul in the mystery of grace, created in man himself, precisely through poverty, a source for enriching others that is not comparable with any other resource of material goods, a source for bestowing gifts on others in the manner of God himself. This giving is accomplished in the cohtext of the mystery of Christ who "has made us rich by his poverty." We see how this process of enrichment unfolds in the pages of the Gospel, finding its culmination in the paschal event: Christ, poorest in his death on the cross, is also the one who enriches us infinitely with the fullness of new life through his resurrection. Dear Brothers and Sisters, poor in spirit through your evangelical profes-sion, receive into the whole of your lives this salvific profile of the poverty of Christ. Day by day seek its ever greater development! Seek above all "the kingdom of God and his righteousness," and all other things "shall be yours as well.'~8 May there be accomplished in you and through you the evangelical blessedness that is reserved for the poor,69 the poor in spirit!70 Redemptionis Donum/ 495 Obedience 1 3. Christ, 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 servant, being born in the likeness of men. And beingfound in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient unto death, even death on a cross.7~ Here, in these words of the Letter of St. Paul to the Philippians, we touch the very essence of the redemption, In this reality is inscribed, in a primary and constitutive way, the obedience of Jesus Christ. Other words of the apostle, taken this time from the Letter to the Romans, confirm this: For as by one man's disobedience many were made sinners, so by one man's obedience many will be made righteous.72 The evangelical counsel of obedience is the call which derives from this obedience of Christ "unto death." Those who accept this call, expressed by the words "Follow me," decided--as the council says--to follow Christ who "by an obedience which carried him even to death on the cross, redeemed human-ity and made it holy.''73 By living out the evangelical counsel of obedience, they reach the deepest essence of the entire Economy of the Redemption. By ful-filling this counsel, they desire to gain a special sharing in the obedience of that "One alone" by whose obedience all "will be made righteous." It can therefore be said that those who decide to live according to the counsel of obedience are placed in a unique way between the mystery of sin74 and the mystery of justification and salvific grace. They are in this "place" with all the sinful background of their own human nature, with all the inheritance "of the pride of life," with all the selfish tendencies to dominate rather than to serve; and precisely by means of the vow of obedience they decide to be transformed into the likeness of Christ, who "redeemed humanity and made it holy by his obedience." In the counsel of obedience they desire to find their own role in the redemption of Christ, and their own way of sanctification. This is the way which Christ marked out in the Gospel, speaking many times of fulfilling the will of God, of ceaselessly searching for it. "My food is to do the will of him who sent me, and to accomplish his works."75 "Because I seek not my own will but the will of him who sent me."76 "He :who sent me is with me; he has not left me alone, for 1 always do what is pleasing to him.''77 "For I have come down from heaven, not to do my own will, but the will of him who sent me."78 This constant fulfilling of the will of the Father also reminds us of that messianic confession of the psalmist in the Old Testament: "Behold I come; in the written scroll it is prescribed for me. To do 3/our will, O my God, is my delight, and your law is within my heart.''79 This obedience of the Son--full of joy--reaches its zenith in the face of the passion and cross: "Father, if it is your will, take this cup from me; yet not my will but yours be done."s0 From the prayer ~in Gethsemane onward, Christ's 1196 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 readiness to do the will of the Father is filled to the very brim of suffering, becoming that obedience "unto death, even death on a cross" spoken of by St. Paul. Through the vow of obedience consecrated persons decide to imitate with humility the obedience of the Redeemer in a special way. For although sub-mission to the will of God and obedience to his law are for every state a condition of Christian life, nevertheless in the "religious state," in the "state of perfection," the vow of obedience establishes in the heart of each of you, dear Brothers and Sisters, the duty of a particular reference to Christ "obedient unto death." And since this obedience of Christ constitutes the essential nucleus of the work of the redemption, as is seen from the words of the apostle quoted above, therefore also in the fulfilling of the evangelical counsel of obedience we must discern a particular moment in that "economy of the redemption" which pervades your whole vocation in the Church. From this derives that "total availability to the Holy Spirit" who is at work above all in the Church, as my predecessor Paul VI puts it in the apostolic exhortation Evangelica Testificatio,8i a'nd who is likewise manifested in the constitutions of your institutes. From this derives that religious submission which, in a spirit of faith, consecrated persons show to their legitimate superiors Who hold the place of God.82 In the Letter to the Hebrews we find on this theme a very significant indication: "Obey your leaders and submit to them; for they are keeping watch over your souls, as men who will have to give account." And the author of the letter adds: "Let them do this joyfully, and not sadly, for that would be of no advantage to you."~3 On the other hand, superiors will bear in mind that they. must exercise in a spirit of service the power conferred on them through the ministry of the Church, and they will show willingness to listen to their brothers or sisters in order to discern more clearly what the Lord asks of each one. At the same time they retain the authority proper to them to decide and order what they consider appropriatr. Hand in hand with submission-obedience thus conceived goes the attitude of service which informs your whole life after the example of the Son of Man who "came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many."s4 And his mother, at the decisive moment of the annunciation-incarna-tion, entering from the very beginning into the whole salvific economy of the redemption, said: "Behold, 1 am the handmaid of the Lord; let it be done to me according to your word."aS Remember also, dear Brothers and Sisters, that the obedience to which you committed yourselves by consecrating yourselves without reserve to God through the profession of the evangelical counsels is a particular expression of interior freedom, just as the definitive expression of Christ's freedom was his obedience "unto death": "1 lay down my life, that I may take it again. No one Redemptionis Donum / takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord.'~6 Love for the Church Witness 14. In the Jubilee Year of the Redemption the entire Church wishes to renew her love for Christ, the redeemer of man and of the world, her Lord and also her divine Spouse. And so in this holy year the Church looks with special attentibn to you, dear Brothers and Sisters, who, as consecrated persons, occupy a special place, both in the universal community of the People of God, and in every local community. While the Church wishes also your love for Christ to be renewed through the grace of the extraordinary jubilee, at the same time, she is fully aware that this love constitutes a special possession of the whole People of God. The Church is aware that, in the love that Christ receives from consecrated persons, the love :of the entire Body is directed in a special and exceptional way toward the Spouse who, i~t the same time, is the Head of this Body. The Church expresses to you, dear Brothers and Sisters, her gratitude for your consecration, and for your profession of the evangelical counsels which are a special witness of love. She also expresses anew her great confidence in you who have chosen a state of life that is a special gift of God to the Church. She counts upon your complete and generous collaboration in order that, as faithful stewards of this precious gift, you may "think with the Church" and always act in union with her, in conformity with the teaching and directives of the magisterium of Peter and of the pastors in communion with him, fostering at the personal and community level a renewed ecclesial awareness. And at the same time, the Church prays for you, that your witness of love may never fail.87 She also asks you to accept in this spirit the present message of the Jubilee Year of the Redemption. Precisely in this way the Apostle Paul prayed in his Letter to the Philippians, that "your love may abound more and more., with all discernment, so that you may approve what is excellent, and may be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, filled with the fruits of righteousness. "~ Through the work of Christ's redemption "God's love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit which has been given to us.'~9 1 constantly ask the Holy Spirit to grant to each one of you, according to your own gift,9° to bear special witness to this love. May "the law of the Spirit that gives life in Christ Jesus" be victorious within you in a way worthy of your vocation, that law that has "set us free from the law of. death.TM Live, then, this new life in the measure of the different gifts of God, which corresponds to the vocation of your individual religious families. The profession of the evangelical counsels shows each of you how, with the help of the Spirit, you can put to death92 everything that is contrary to life and serves sin and death; everything that is opposed to true love of God and others. The world needs the authentic "contradiction" provided by religious conse- 4911 / Reviow for Religious, July-August, 1984 cration, as an unceasing stimulus of saivific renewal. "Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that you may prove what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.'~3 After the special period of experimentation and renewal provided for by the motu proprio Ecclesiae Sanctae, your institutes have recently received, or are preparing to receive, the Church's approval of your renewed constitutions. May this gift of the Church encourage you to know them, to love them, and, above all, to live them in generosity and fidelity, remembering that obedience is an unambiguous manifestation of love. It is precisely this witness of love that the world today and all humanity need. They need this witness to the redemption as this is imprinted upon the profession of the evangelical counsels. These counsels---each in its own way and all of them together in their intimate connection--"bear witness" to the redemption which, by the power of Christ's cross and resurrection, leads the world and humanity, in the Holy Spirit, toward that definitive fulfillment which man, and through man, the whole of creation finds in God and only in God. Your witness is therefore of inestimable value, You must constantly strive to make it fully transparent and fully fruitful in the world. A further aid to this will be the faithful observance of the Church's norms regarding also the outward manifestation of your consecration and of your commitment to poverty.94 Apostolate 15. From this witness of spousal love for Christ, through which the entire salvific truth of the Gospel becomes particularly visible, there also comes, dear Brothers and Sisters, as something proper to your vocation, a sharing in the Church's apostolate, in her universal mission--which is accomplished con-temporaneously in every nation in many different ways and through many different charisms. Your specific mission is in harmony with the mission of the apostles whom the Lord sent "to the whole world" to "teach all nations,'s5 and it is also linked to the mission of the hierarchial order. In the apostolate which consecrated persons exercise, their spousal love for Christ becomes, in an as it were organic way, love for the Church as the Body of Christ, for the Church as the People of God, fbr the Church which is at one and the same time Spouse and Mother. It is difficult to describe, or even to list, the many different ways in which consecrated persons fulfill through the apostolate their love for the Church. This apostolate is always born from that particular gift of your founders which, received from God and approved by the Church, has become a charism for the different needs of the Church and of the world at particular moments of history, and, in its turn, this apostolate is extended and strengthened in the life of religious communities as one of the enduring elements of the Church's own life and apostolate. In each of these elements, in each field--both of Redemptionis Donum / 499 contemplation so fruitful for the apostolate and of direct apostolic action--the Church's constant blessing accompanies you, as does at the same time her pastoral and maternal solicitude with regard to the spiritual identity of your life and the correctness of your activity in the midst of the great universal community of vocations and charisms of the whole People of God. Through each of the institutes separately, and through their organic integration into the whole of, the Church's mission, special emphasis is given to the Economy of Redemption, the profound sign of which each one of you, dear Brothers and Sisters, bears within himself or herself through the consecration and profession of the evangelical counsels. And thus, even though the many different apostolic works that you perform are extremely important, nevertheless the truly fundamental work of the aPostolate remains always what (and at the same time who) you are in the Church. Of each one of you can be repeated, with special appropriateness, these words of St. Paul: '~For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God."96 And at the same time this "being hidden with Christ in God" makes it possible to apply to you the words of the master himself: "Let your light so shine before men that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven."97 For the sake of this light with which you must "shine before men," of great imPortance among you is the witness of your mutual love linked to the fraternal spirit of each community, for the Lord has said: "By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another."gg The fundamentally communitarian nature of your religious life--nourished by the teaching of the Gospel, by the sacred liturgy, and above all by the Eucharist--is a special way of accomplishing this interpersonal and social dimension. By caring for one another, by bearing one another's burdens, you show, by your unity, that Christ is living in your midst.99 Important for your apostolate in the Church is every kind of sensitivity to the needs and sufferings of the individual, which are seen so clearly and so movingly in today's world. For the Apostle Paul teaches: "Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ,;~°° and he adds that "love is the fulfilling of the Law."1°1 Your mission must be seen! Deep, very deep must be the bond which links it to the Church!~°2 Through everything that you do, and especially through everything that you are, may the truth be proclaimed and reconfirmed that "Christ loved the Church and gave himself up for her"~o3--the truth that is at the basis of the whole Economy of Redemption. From Christ, the Redeemer of the World, may the inexhaustible source of your love of the Church pour forth! Conclusion The Eyes Enlightening the Heart 16. This exhortation, which 1 address to you on the Solemnity of the Annunciation in the Jubilee Year of the Redemption, is meant to be an 5{11) / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 expression of that love which the Church has for men and womeri religious: You, dear Brothers and Sisters, are truly a special treasure of the Church. And this treasure becomes more understandable through °meditation on the reality of the redemption--for which the present Holy Year offers a continuous opportunity and a welcome encouragement. Recognize therefore, in this light, your identity and your dignity. May the Holy Spirit--through Christ's cross and resurrection--"having the eyes of your hearts enlightened," enable you "to know what is the hope to which he has called you, what are the riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints."~0~ These "eyes enlightening the heart" the Church unceasingly asks ]'or each ¯ one of you who have already taken the road of the profession of the evfingelical counsels. The Church, together with you, asks for the same "enlightened eyes" for many other Christians---especially for young men and women--that they, too, may discover this way, and not be afraid to enter upon it, that---even in the midst of the adverse circumstances of life today--they may hear Christ's "Follow Me."1°5 You, too, must strive for this through your prayer, and aiso through the witness of that love whereby "God abides in us, and his love is perfected in us."~o6 May this witness become present everywhere, and universally clear. May the people of our times, in their spiritual weariness, find in this witness both support and hope. Therefore serve your brethren with the joy that wells up from a heart in which Christ has his dwelling. "And may the world of our time., be enabled to receive the good news, not from evangelizers who are dejected and discouraged., but from ministers of the Gospel whose lives glow with fervor, who have first received the joy of Christ."~07 The Church, in her love for you, does not cease "kneeling before the Father. and praying"t0g that he may effect in you "the strengthening of the inner nature,''~09 and, as in you, so also in many others of your baptized brothers and sisters---especially young people--so that they, too, may find the same way to holiness which, in the course of history, so many generations have traveled together with Christ the Redeemer of the World and Spouse of Souls, often~ leaving behind them the bright radiance of God's light against the dark and gray background of human existence. To all of you who travel this road in the present phase of the history of the Church and the world there is addressed this fervent hope of the Jubilee Year of the Redemption, that "you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have the power to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ which surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God."~0 Message of the Solemnity of the Annunciation of the Lord On the Feast of the Annunciation in thi~ Holy Year of the Redemption, I place the present exhortation in the heart of the Immaculate Virgin. Among all Redemptionis Donum / 501 persons consecrated unreservedly to G6d, she is the first. She--the Virgin of Nazareth--is also the one most fully consecrated to God, consecrated in the most perfect way. Her spousal~love reached its height in the divine motherhood through the power of the Holy Spirit. She, who as mother carries Christ in her arms, at the same time fulfills in the most perfect way his call: "Follow me." And she follows him--she, the mother--as her teacher of chastity, poverty and obedience. How poor she was on Bethlehem night, and how poor on Calvary! How obedient she was at the moment .of the Annunciation, and then--at the foot of the Cross--obedient "unto death!" How dedicated she was in all her earthly life to the cause of the kingdom" of heaven through most chaste love. If the entire Church finds in Mary her first model, all the more reason do you find her so--you as consecrated individuals and communities within the Church! On the day that calls to mind the inauguration of the Jubilee of the Redemption, which took place last year, I address myself to you with this present message to invite you to renew your religious consecration according to the model of the consecration of the very Mother of God. Beloved Brothers and Sisters! "God is faithful, by whom you were called into the fellowship of his Son, Jesus Christ our Lord."lll Persevering in fidelity to him who is faithful, strive to find a very special support in Mary! For she was called by God to the most perfect communion with his Son. May she, the faithful Virgin, also be the Mother of your evangelical way. May she help yoti to experience and to show to the world how infinitely faithful is God himself! With these hopes 1 bless you with all my heart. From the Vatican, March 25, in the Jubilee Year of the Redemption, 1984, the sixth of my pontificate. NOTES ~See Mt 7:14. 2Ps 130(129):7. .JSee 2 Co 11:2. sSee Mt' 19:21; Mk 10:21; Lk' 18:22. 6Mk 10:21. 8Jn 3:16. 91 P 1:18-19. ml Co 6:20. ~2Mt 5:48. ~JSee Lv 19:2; 11:44. ~4Ep 5:1-2. ~6Mk 8:35; see Mt 10:39; Lk 9:24. ~TMt 19:21. ~gMt 6:21. ~°See Mt 19:21; Mk 10:21; Lk 18:22. 22Mt 19:16. ~JJn 15:16. 241 Jn 4:10. 4See Mt 18:20. 7Mt 19:21. ~1 Co 6:19-20. ~Sls 44:22. ~sSee Mt 6:19-20. 2~See Jn 14:26. ~See Second Vatican Council, decree Perfectae Caritatis, 5; see also document of the Congrega-tion for Religious and Secular Institutes "Essential Elements in the Church's Teaching on Religious Life as Applied to Institutes Dedicated to Works of the Apostolate" (May 3 I, 1983), nn. 5ff. ~6Rm 6:3-4. ~TRm 6:6. 2SRm 6:1 I. ~gSee Ep 4:22-24. 51)2 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 J°ls 43:1. 34Rm 12:1. asPs 16( 15):2,5. 42See Mt 7:1. ~6See Mt 6:14-15. ~°Jn 17:15. 5JPh 2:6-7: 57Mr 19:12.° 6~I Co 7:32. ~2 Co 8:9. ~Mt 19:21. 32Ps 135 (134):4. J3Jn 17:19. a~Heb 10:5,7. ~6Rm 12:1. aTPs 73(72):25-26. 39See Sg 8:6. ~See Lk 20:38. :4~2 Co 5:17. *JLk 6:35. '~See Mt 5:40-42. *~See Lk 14:13-14. *TRm 8:19-21. '~1 Jn 2:15-17. ~gSee Gn 1:28. ~See Perfectae Caritatis, 5. 522 Co 5:17. ~Mk 8:34: Mt 16:24. ssPh 3:8-9. 562 Co 4:16. 5SMt 19:11. 59See I Co 7:28-40: ~°See I Co 7:38. 621 Co 7:34. 6~See Lk 20:34-36; Mt 22:30: Mk 12:25. 65Mt 5:3. 66Ep 3:9. 67Mt 19:21; see Mk 10:21; Lk 18:22. 7°Mr 5:3. 7~Ph 2:6-8. 74Mysterium lniquitatis; see 2 Th 2:7. 77Jn 8:29. tSJn 6:38. ~OLk 22:42; see Mk 14:36; Mt 26:42. 82See Perfectae Caritatis, 14. 85Lk 1:38. 86Jn 10:17-18. 89Rm 5:5. 9°See I Co 7:7. 6SMk 6:33; eLk 6:20. 72Rm ~: 19. 7-~See Perfectae Caritatis, I. 75Jn 4:34. 76Jn 5:30. 79ps 40(39):8-9; see Heb 10:17. s~See Evangelica Testificatio, 6. S~Heb 13:17. ~4Mk 10:45. sTSee Lk 22:32. ssPh 1:9-1 I. 91Rm 8:2. 92See Rm 8:13. 9-~Rm 12:2. 9~See Code of Canon Law, canon 669. 9~See Mt 28:19. 9~Col 3:3. 97Mt 5:16. ~Jn 13:35. 99See Perfectae Caritatis, 15. t°°Ga 6:2. ~o~ Rm 13:10. ~°2The Code of Canon Law explicitly mentions this with regard to apostolic activity: see canon 675, sec. 3. ~O3Ep 5:25. , ~Ep 1:18. IO~Lk 5:27. ~°~1 Jn 4!12. ~°TPope Paul VI, apostolic exhortation Evangelii Nuntiandi, 80. ~°sSee Ep 3:14. ~°gSee Ep 3:16. n0Ep 3:17;19. ml Co 1:9. Encourage Vocations May I also ask you for something?You are well aware of the needs of the Church all over the world in relation to vocations to the priesthood and to the religious life. My request is that you do not fail to challenge the young to follow Christ in this way. Help them to discover the divine call. Support them by your prayer, your advice, and the example of your lives.--John Paul Ii, to the General Chapter of the Congregation of Christian Brothers. L'Osscrvatore Romano, 24 April, 1984, p. 9. Commitment: Dying and Rising to Self Anthony Wieczorek, O. Praem. This article is the fruit of the prayerful reflections of Bro~ Wieczorek as he approached the time of his solemn profession during the days of Holy Week. His last article. "Poverty. Time. Solitude: A Conte.xt for a Celibate Life-Style.~appeared in the issue of September/October. 1982. Bro. Wieczorek resides in St. Joseph Priory: 103 Grant Street: De Pere. WI 54115. Commitment is a life and death decision. This is especially true for such commitments as marriage, profession, arid even the taking 'on ~of certain jobs requiring a good degree of responsibility. Commitment is a decision to live a certain life, to embrace life and enter into it fully. At the same time, it is a death. It means letting go of other options and alternatives, of other equally good or better ways of living. For both these reasons, because commitment is an embracing of life and death, commitments are' often difficult to make, causes of not a little anxiety and fear. The fear is not simply because of the dying required; it is perhaps least of all due to that. Rather, the main cause for fear in commitment is precisely the living, the life that is chosen with all its unknown consequences. Life is just as much out of human control as death. Life is just as much a surrender as death. When a person truly abandons oneself to living, truly living--wak.efully, consciously, with senses open and alert to every and anything--the final result is just as mysterious and uncertain as death. At least that is what I am finding out as the day of my solemn profession nears. What is involved in making such a commitment? Where will such a life lead? What price will such a life demand? For make no mistake, living exacts a terrible price--terrible and beautiful. Truly, commitment is a dying and rising of self. The self I am and know given over to transformation by living a life the consequences and end of which 1 cannot envision. The frightening part of commitment, for many of us, as these reflections try to articulate, is not just the dying to other lives, it is the rising to new and different life and, perhaps, to 503 504/ Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 an equally new and different self. The Seed of An Uncertain Future I wonder, Lord, if you wonder where all the singleheartedness has gone. It is still there, thought now I am no longer so wholly consumed by it. All its life, the residue of its past as well as the fire of its dreams, is squeezed tightly into a single seed. The seed is all curled up about itself. It is afraid to die for when it does it will erupt into nbt only new life, that is not so bad, but into different life. The tree from which that scared seed grew is only one parent. The other is mystery, wild and elusive. It will be no new tree that stretches itself upward and downward but a different tree. And so I cling to the last shreds of my former life, feeling it nonetheless slipping, being pulled endlessly from my grasp. And when the last element is gone and I fall helplessly into the soil, half buried by the force of the fall, then I shall die/rise--for it is all the same--to not only live anew but differently. I die to arise as a self I do not know; the me I am assumed, eaten up as food, by the person 1 shall become. .The seed existing in me is devouringme to nourish itself. It is eating its way out of me, bite by bite. Soon I will be gone. Yet not gone, for a new and different self will begin to grow from where 1 stood, with its own life, its own dreams and future. As it is now part of me, so then ! shall be part of it, consumed as fuel until it is strong enough to move away and seek its own source of life, to wrap its lips around the mystery which gave it birth and suck into its being a vitality and energy I cannot imagine, let alone comprehend. And it will grow as the mystery it drinks saturates every cell of it. By that time l will have played my part. The husk that will be what remains of me will slowly crumble with a dry, crinkling sound. Discarded, will I be remembered by what has become of me? Will anything of me survive in that which survives me? When 1 too hang a lifeless husk from a tree, consumed wholly by what exists within me? Of Acorns and O~ks It's too bad acorns can't fly. Maybe it's just as well. I wonder, if they could, how many over the years would have changed their minds and returned in a flurry of little wings to the tree from which they fell? A person just can't be sure. In the fall, if you sit quietly amid the sounds of wind and rustling leaves you can occasionally hear the sudden and quite distinct plop of an acorn hitting the ground. And if you lean over it you can even hear the final little sigh the acorn makes just before, separated from the life of the tree, it dies. For me, the acorn is a symbol of faith. The whole and utter point of an acorn's life is to die. It dies so that the oak tree within it can sprout and grow and give birth to more acorns and so more oak trees. But what about the acorn? That surely isn't much of a life. I wonder if they're informed of the odds of success before they're sent on their suicide dive? For all the acorns that fall, how slim a percentage are able to accomplish their full mission? How many of Commitment: Dying and Rising to Self / 505 the well meaning little things end up in the bellies of squirrels? or get picked up by people like me who put them in a pocket, or sit them on a desk as a remembrance? All that wasted potential. That's why l say, it's too bad acorns can't fly. But acorns don't seem to mind the odds. Millions fall to pointless deaths each year. Each one, I suppose, acts in faith. And so do they die. Maybe I'm too romantic about this. Maybe acorns kick and scream over their fate. Maybe it's not that acorns voluntarily let go at all. Perhaps they hang on for dear life, literally, while the wind and tree try to shake them loose. And don't blame the tree; it is, after all, the wind that does the shaking. The wind jostles and bounces the branches and leaves until the acorns can no longer hang on, until .th,.ey fall, with a plop, onto the ground below. In my room is an 1con, Rublev's The Holy Trinity. On it are three figures, the three visitors greeted by Abraham. Each represents a different person of the Holy Trinity. They are, from left to right, Son, Father, and Spirit. They are seated at a table and on its center is a solitary cup. The symbolism speaks of the cup as the cup of commitment or decision or vow. The cup is the symbol of the incarnation. The Son in drinking it would vow to undergo the incarnation, the ministry and death. The Father looks sadly at the Son but makes no move to urge his drinking. The decision must be made freely and the Father respects that. The Spirit, though, is much less inhibited, much more impetuous. The Spirit motions toward the. cup, as if to push it closer to the Son, encouraging him to drink. In Greek and Hebrew, the word for spirit and wind is the same. I think that the word for Jesus and acorn should be the same also. The Spirit blew the cup across the table and thbn with a sudden gust blew the Son right out of heaven so that he fell, with a plop, upon the earth to live so briefly and then with a sigh die so that from his seed new life might sprout and grow. I wonder if the Son would rather have hung on to the Father? I Wonder if without the Spirit's insistence the Son would have continued to cling to heaven? Who can blame either of them? What were the Son's odds for.success? And the Spirit? The Spirit is the seed contained within the acorn--Son. Do not feel sorry for the acorn, nor for the Son. Rather, feel sorry for yourself; All of us are acorns. Each one is complete with a spirit-seed~ We cling to a cross and cling desperately, lest we too fall and we too germinate into a new and different creation. And yet, it is our purpose and fate to let go and drop down into the life we find ourselves forced by various kinds of necessity to live. I like to fancy myself a tree. Sad to say I am only the acorn. I am meant to fall, meant to die so that the. life within me might sprout and grow. For now, though, l~cling with all my strength to the tree, high above life, not at all anxious to.surrender my grasp and fall into it. I look down on the acorns already fallen with arms that ache and fingers that are numb. The wind will not let up. It is but a matter of time. Eventually I will fall and that will be that. There will be nowhere to go but into life, a life wholly foreign and different from my life as an acorn. Up to now I have not minded being an 506 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 acorn. But now I see a very serious shortcoming: acorns can't fly. The Waves and Tides of Life Yesterday I stood at the water's edge and watched the waves ebb and flow. The water Would rush ashore in a burst of extroversion and then, just as shyly, recede, as though it had scared and embarrassed itself with its own excitement. Today I think, how much life is like those waves. There is an ebb flow to my emotions. Today, though, 1 ebb, recede back into myself to be alone with my loneliness. And today, as I sit and recall the waves, they seem like hands groping, flaying out to grab hold of an3ithing or anyone~ They are like the hands of a ghost that can. neither hold nor ever be held. The waves that beat the sand and stones, are they ii'ying in fact to climb the shore? to step out and stand and walk out among the people who have from time to time plunged into their world only to emerge after a moment and walk away? Those people who enjoyed the waves for a moment, befriending them only to leave for the business of their own lives, leaving, too, the waves to lap longingly after life they can never know or share? I with them ebb further into my heart, receding back into the memories of those who have plunged for a moment into my llfe only to leave and leave me lapping after them. Like a lake .I sit alone, from time to time rising up with a rush only to slip back into myself, startled and embarrassed by my own need. Something within me is like a wave that slaps ashore but never stays, Something within me surges up only to be pulled back within by some internal gravity. I'm not sure if that something is just shy, testing the air and environ-ment then fleeing back inside, or if it is trapped, tryin~ to escape the,grasp of something else holding it bound. I don't even know what the something within me is, the wave-like thing that surges within me. I wonder if the waves feel the futility of their endless spending of energy? What do the waves accOmplish? At what do they succeed? Too pragmatic a question? I guess so. But the question comes because I, like them, ebb and flow over and over, so much motion without any progress onward or toward. Things within me, feelings, truths, continually well up and slide onto the shore of consciousness only to teasingly return to the depths, staying only long enough to be quickly felt, to be glanced, to pose a question but never long enough to give: an answer or even listen to my response. Maybe then 1 have it all wrong. Maybe the point of the waves is not for them to venture ashore. Maybe the waves are not groping but beckoning hands, calling me to enter it, urging and compelling me into its depths. The ebb and flow of feelings that roll up into consciousness, are they bait meant to lure me into my own depths? Endlessly they call, endlessly they reach .out to stroke and caress me into compliance, easing my fear with warm, soft strokes. Those waves that nowhere go gather me and draw me not nowhere but~down, deep down, then deeper still until memory of shore is gone and the memory of me upon the shore is equally gone, washed away by the waves. Commitment: Dying and Rising to Self ] 507 The Bondage of Busyness I'm sorry, Lord, so much these past few weeks l've had to do, to be busy about. How easy it is to put off being sensitive and aware by doing. It leaves no time to be, only time enough to do. Lately I've been going through life at light's speed. Stars blur into indistinguishable streaks of white light. And people too. And you, God; and you, too. You bead up on the surface of my life like water and roll away while 1 race on. It is for self-defense. Awareness requires sensitiv-ity and for that ability to feel. To feel. Can't I just ponder you slowly in my mind? Must I dare to feel you? To be pierced by experiences, allowing them to enter in, leave an impression, even draw blood7 There ,is something in me struggling to be free. Always the same words. And why not? It is the same reality. Bondage. When, Lord, when will I learn? When will 1 take the lessons to heart and emerge whole and authentic? It is being you require not sacrifice~ not doing. They are quite wrong, those who say "just being" is a passivity. It is work, painful work without respite: 1 know why people are wont to go mad. It is all so painfully obvious. Why do I go on living in such foreign realms where things done and not being alive is the currency? The True, the Real is here, so obvious, waiting. 1 wait too. I wait for death to free me from all my falsity and foolishness, from the hustle and bustle. And l blame you for the fire and brimstone I call upon myself. I hold my breath while ! pray for death, hoping ¯ all the while it will pass me by.,I am too afraid of living; of feeling life, to die. Doing is my excuse for not being, for not taking the time or oppo~unity to feel. After death, 1 imagine, there will be all eternity to be. But even now I can feel the fabric of the womb pressing against my face and hands. My fingers grope to tear it away. 1 strain to open my eyes against it and see beyond it, crying an angry moan through it and dissolve it with my tears. Being means living and I will not allow myself to be born. I want to die but fear birth, fear the living. If 1 do not die I cannot be born, cannot be. 1 am afraid of eternity, afraid that once I pass through this existence to life I will have nothing to keep me from being, from living truly. It is not physical death I fear. That is only the symbol. Physical death reminds me that someday I must make the 9assage: Physical death is a taunt that reminds me that this existence is illusion and all the busy things I do to keep me from being and feeling are illusory too. That's why I flee from death, for 1 am afraid to live, to be, to feel. The struggle is to be born. The bondage to be enwombed. Death is the door I refuse to open for life awaits me on the other side. When will I let go and let death take me? When, 1 know now, I can let go of my fear of feeling. Death is release but 1 do not want to be free. No, that is not true. I crave it, crave life even as I fear it. I die to the wrong thing. I die to life so that I may live in death instead of dying to death, the death in which I now, and yet, live. If I die to death 1 shall rise again to live life, to feel life. And so, to insulate myself, I lie buried beneath piles of mud while my spirit struggles to soar. I choose death 5011 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 for it is painless, effortless, feelingless. The mud is all the deedsI do, must do, ought to do, have to do, can do, should do. All these excuses, a facade of life to imagine the things 1 do, the death I live in, means I am really alive. I refuse the resurrection and choose the facade. The facade of life that I live, for I have not died. Death waits. I can be embraced any time, any time I choose to live. It is so simple:,to be free 1 must simply die to death and be willing to live. Two things block my way, fear and self-consciousness. Maybe there are three things, death is the third. They are, I'm sure, all interrelated., Fear of death of the selL.l have, after all, gone through quite a turnsince my graduate school day~ when self-fulfillment was the key. Maybe it still is a key, though not to any doors I find before me. The key now is death~ death to self. Maybe I'm morel a Buddhist than 1 thought. Fear stares me in the face every :step of the way. The face of fear fills my vision. It is only an illusion though. Fear has no more a face than does a mirror. Fear's face is my own reflection. So here it is Good Friday, a day of self-denial, a day of the celebration of the conquest of fear. Your faith, Lord, conquered your fear. And for me, I lack the faith for it will bid me to face fear and enter into death. And when 1 die I shall rise__to live, to feel. Feel what? The truth: uncertainty, sorrow, loneliness made more real by love, impotence, insignificance. Even your death, Lord, has changed so little. What then of mine? ~;ou see my self-consciousness is all that keeps me from consciousness. Make no mistake, I know the grace is there. I know that if I stand silently with outstretched hands you will fill them. For that reason my hands are tightly closed into fists, fists that grasp and cling to every shred of self-consciousness I can find. ~Get behind me, Satan, your ways are not God's but man's." There is so much power in those words. The object of that little outburst of yours was not Peter's remarks but the voice within you that Peter only echoed. Why after all die, to whom will it matter in the end, much less now? I have the same voice in me, it is my voice trying to shout down the voice Of the spirit-seed begging for birth. And so I cry out.with you, "get behind me, self-consciousness." An Allegory on Arising Somewhere an alarm is ringing but I can't seem to wake enough to turn it off. It pulls and tugs at me but I am too groggy to do much more than mutter with swollen tongue still drunk with sleep. I must wake, I tell myself, but my limbs refuse to acknowledge any signals from my duty-bound brain. Of the past Triduum, Good Friday was my best day, of the three the day of greatest wakefulness. It left me eager for the Vigil service--but there it ended, l lie in my tomb thrilling over resurrection but cannot muster the consciousness to rise. I close my eyes to resurrection so that I may return to the opium of my ¯ Commitment: Dying and Rising to Self / 509 dreams. I,know I am dreaming for I know that 1 am unawake. But my sleep-logged body lacks the bouyancy to rise. I sleep on while the alarm rings on. Good Friday and I became such good friends because we spoke the same language: death--only unlike Good Friday, I refused to move on to'Easter Sunday, Each day by my own decree is a Good Friday. For, having to choose between the tomb and wakefulness, I have chosen the tomb. Holy Thursday was too busy for me to find in it any portal to mystery, let alone your presence. But Good Friday loomed like a sudden door in the middle of the service and I entered in. It felt right, necessary. I need to die, to hand myself over to death. But I refuse to enter fully into Good Friday, for from where I stood j,ust inside the threshold I could see that it extended out into Holy Saturday--when the alarm begins to ring--and opened up into Easter Sunday. So there it is, a matrix of transformation, a labyrinth one wanders through to emerge as some new self the old one lost somewhere within. I don't even think I mind the death anymore. It is somehow inevitable and in a sense it has already begun. But in the foreground I can hear the alarm waking me to consciousness even before fully asleep. It is that that scares me. I try to ignore it: can't you tell I'm dead? What do you mean it's time to get up? Do the dead rise and shine? I found in Good Friday an escape from consciousness and feeling but found also the alarm that tries so persistently to raise these unwilling limbs to new life. It does not end on Good Friday. On the third day, it says, he rose again. It took Jesus three days to lose his tug-of-war with God. Obvously you simply weren't trying, l'm proof that the contest can go on much longer. We are told to give our lives over to God as though we were lumps of clay, as though it were an act done once and for all. That is simply not how it is. We are balls of yarn that God slowly pulis, unraveling us and knitting us into something new. The same yarn but a new being--and we don't even get to choose the pattern. And so I hang on as mightily as I can, trying to unravel what God has knitted and rewrap myself into a safely static ball of potential: After all; look at what God did with the "yarn" that was--and is--Jesus. His own friends couldn't recognize him when God got through. So God and I are engaged in a tug-of-war. It took you three days, Lord? Three days to let totally go and be remade? Would that I were as weak. Unfortunately, God does not seem to be as strong as we claim. He is losing, his new creation is losing its shape, slowly being undone. The alarm bids me to stir and awaken, to loosen my hold on myself and let what I am be used up, transformed and brought back as one more patch on a huge and colorful woven mosiac. But now I am talking about Easter. Now I am talking about wakefulness, consciousness, the empty tomb with its wrappings neatly folded and put aside, like sheets and blankets on a bed remade and forgotten during the daylight hours. But I am still wrapped warm within my bed. The tomb is not yet vacant. I cling to my self-consciousness, the self 1 think 1 know and do not want to lose. But despite the sleep, I cannot hold on to myself much longer, the sleep deepens and my grip upon myself loosens. 510 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 God. tugs once more and smiles, "Nothing but a little snag," and goes on knitting making who knows, what to one day soon be sewn into a patchwork of eternity and serve some purpose in a plan not my own. Each day for me is Good Friday and soon Holy Saturday when I will be remade an~ then reappear a stranger, washed ashore on the morning of some Easter Sunday. Reciprocal On top of hell a bluebird sits On an apple branch. A mocking bird's swelling song, Tiptop in a tall cedar, chants A confiteor to such irony. Cows graze in emerald pastures. The sun~ rising red, puts the moon to rest: And morning prayers are said. Below these placid pastures, Below fring.ed acres, --primed and waiting-- Are the missiles, restrained, yet ready To fly whistling seaward, to other Pastures, where other dwellers sit on Top of hell, listening to another Bluebird singing, on an apple branch, A mocking bird trilling, tiptop In a tall cedar. Martha Wickham 560 N. Walnut, Apt~ °1 o Taylorville, IL 62568 Ecclesial Relationships for Religious: Desires and Limits Alexa Suelzer, S.P. This article is the text of the second annual lecture and colloquium sponsored by Review for Religious in conjunction with the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University which took place at the university April 12-13. In the spring of 1983, Sister Alexa was appointed to the special committee of religious formed by Archbishop John Quinn to collaborate with the ponifical commission established to facilitate the pastoral ministry of bishops to religious in this country. Sister Alexa, whose background is in Scripture, has had extensive administrative experience within her own community. She may be addressed as St. Mary-of-the-Woods College; St. Mary-of-the-Woods, IN 47876. Almost a year has passed since John Paul 11 wrote to the bishops of the United States concerning the religious--both men and women--in their dio-ceses and.sent them a document titled Essential Elements in the Church's Teaching on Religious Nfe As Applied to Institutes Dedicated to Works of ApostolateJ a compendium drawn from pertinent decrees of Vatican H, papal writings, and documents of the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes. Its authority derives from its sources and from the personal approval of John Paul? Perhaps there was a time when such imposing credentials would preclude criticism--but no more! Reaction from religious has covered the gamut from strong affirmation thro.ugh indifference to angry rejection. One religious' assertion that the teaching affirms her.waY of life is counterbalanced by another's depression at seeing her path questioned. Between these extremes lie varying degrees of agreement and disagreement. It seems safe to say that the enumeration of the indispensable elements (prayer, evangelical witness, and so forth) meets with general acceptance, but description of each of them finds the variety of reactions described. Sometimes the criticism is on peripheral issues: Why single out American religious? ~Why 511 512 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 were the LCWR and CMSM passed by? What is the hidden agenda? At times the criticism stems from misreading the text, e.g., presuming that the "ending of the special period of experimentation," condemns religious life henceforth to the s, tatus quo. At times the language and concepts are faulted as archaic and stereotypical, better suited to an earlier time. More serious are the theological challenges: the failure to realize adequately the evolution of religious life through the centuries, the use of consecration as a master category, the neglect of the prophetic element, and an unsatisfactory eccle-iology. From listening and speaking to religious, both individually, and in groups, I am led to believe that the last name---ecclesiology--is the source of the greatest difficulty. How one receives the document depends in great part upon the view of the Church--the ecclesiology--that is operative, consciously or uncon-sciously, in the reader:. Ecclesiology is assuredly an issue, for relatedness of religious life to the Church is one of the clearest affirmations in Essential Elements. In his letter accompanying the document John Paul refers to this fact in such phrases as "their ecclesial vocation,TM and "specific relation to tile' Church."~ Essential Elements repeats and elaborates these ideas: "Religious life belongs to the life and holiness of the Church. The Church authenticates the gift and mediates the consecration.6 And throughout there is a steady recurrence of phi'ases like "canonically erected by competent ecclesiastical authority";7 "according to constitutions wh'ich the Church, by her authority, accepts and approves";8 or "works of charity entrusted to the institute by the Church and performed in her name.''9 Relationship to the Church is in fact the seventh of the ten essentials named. Some parts of the section bear quoting: Religious life has its own place in relation to the divine and hierarchical structure of the Church. The founders and foundresses of religious institutes ask the hierarchial Church.publicly to authenticate the gift of God on which the existence of the institute depends. In their origins, religious institutes depend in a unique way on the hierarchy. As a particularly rich and important example of these manifold gifts, each religious institute depends for the authentic discernment of its founding charism on the God-given ministry of the hierarchy. This relationship obtains not only for the first recognition of the institute but also for its ongoing development. In short, the Church continues to mediate the conseCratory action of God in a specific way, recognizing and fostering this particular form of consecrated life.t0 Similarly in the section on evangelical witness it is noted that the saving work of Christ is shared by means of the concrete services mandated by the Church 'in the approval of the constitutions,tt The fact of this approval qualifies'the kind of service to be undertaken, since it must be faithful to the Gospel, the Church and the institute.12 ¯ .These statements are explicit to the poi'nt of overkill. They can be seen as a Ecclesial Relationships for Religious / $15 counterbalance (if not a reaction) to the exuberance of post-conciliar years in which the institutional dimension of the Church had been played down, if not denigrated. To understand how this state of affairs came about, it will be helpful to look at events in the field of ecclesiology both during and after the Council: In the first session of Vatican II the proposed schema on the Church offered by the Theological Commission was modeled, on the standard theological treatment of th~ manuals, a treatment laying heavy stress on the juridical and organizational aspects of the Church. Quite early in the debate the Council Fathers realized that the desired definition and description could not be simply in external, hierarchical terms, but the Church must be seen as mystery, that is, as described by Paul V1, a divine reality inserted into history, not fully to be captured by human thought and language. It is an indication of the development of the Church's understanding bf her nature and mission that the bishops turned to a fresh approach which would, be more historical, dynamic, and biblical. After a new draft and a series of revisions during the second and.third sessions, Lumen Gentium, The Dogmatic Constitution on the Church,~3 was approved almost unanimously/and was immediately pro-mulgated, November 21, 1964. ~ The course of theology these past two decades has been charted largely by the insights'of Lumen Gentium. Its pastorial stance, its :use of fresh imagery, and its insistence on the universal c, all to holiness provided a new approach to the role of .the laity. Its presentation of the episcopate (a subject whose discussion had been necessarily cut short~ during the interrupted deliberations of Vatican I) introduced collegiality. And the discussion of the relation between the Church and other Christians led not only to rapprochement with other denominations but, through recognition of the Spirit's action in all men and women, led the Church to a clearer understanding of her own nature and mission. The decision of the Council Fathers to begin their reflection at the level of mystery, and only thereafter consider the visible, hierarchical elements of the Church was not fortuitous. The work of Vatican .II was built on an .ecclesiology which had been developing for the past half century. Nevertheless the Council, by reason of its stature and its pronouncements, gave a definite impetus to subsequent studies in ecclesiology= The topic is a leading one in the system of Karl Rahner. The major post-coriciliar work of Hans Kiing deals with the Church. Edward Schillebeeckx' recent works in Christology followed upon his treatment, over a period of years,of the Church in terms of sacramentality. On the popular level Avery Dulles' Models of the Church helped the non-specialist to appreciate the Church by means of many models, intellectual constructs, each giving a particular insight into the mystery of the Church, never fully to be apprehended by any of the models, or, indeed, by all of them~ Despite the advances of Vatican II and of subsequent ecclesiology, it 5"14 ] Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 should be recognized that the theology of Vatican I1 is transition theology. Lumen Gentium, for example, is filled with fresh insights, but these are seldom developed and their relation to older views--which the Council apparently still espoused--is not always evident. For example, although: Lumen Gentium treated the'x;isible, hierarchical dimension of:the Church only in second place, the institutional element still looms large, partially, of course, because it could be dealt, with in practical, coherent terms. (Probably the Church as institution is still the model in. possession~among the rank and file.) Again, the Council documents speak often of charismata (dona is the word used) but apart from insisting that these must be respected when shown to be genuine, little is said about the. relationship between "the gifts, both hierarchical ,and charismatic"~4 and their interplay. All in all, a kind of nervousness characterizes some postconciliar theology, especially in "official" statements~ a tendency to distrust the initial steps taken by the Council Fathers and to return to the safer paths of neoscholasticism.~5 l.believe Essential Elements shows such a tendency. At the.same time, by its consideration of the Church0primarily as mystery and its subordination of hierarchical to charismatic elements, Lumen Gentium itself supplied ammunition for the kinds of anti-institutional attacks we have witnessed in recent years. By a sort of semantic shift, "institutional, hierarchical Church" is sometimes referred to as.a separate entity over against---even in conflict with--the "charismatic Church?' When such polarization occurs it is easy to neglect or deny the interpenetration of the visible and invisible dimensions. An authentic theology, however, must develop from an under, standing of the Church as a single reality, both visible and invisible, having both hierarchical and charismatic elements. 16 One consequence of polarization can be seen in a renewed emptiasis upon institutional factors, possibly to balance what is, seen as a too enthusiastic espousal of a "spiritual" Church. Such stress is found in Essential Elements, which notes that the Church's hierarchic character proceeds from the headship of Christ,17 and calls deliberate attention to "the divine and hierarchical structure of the Church."~8 Posing the two dimensions one against the other can be avoided by the sacramental recognizing nature of the Church, an aspect Which is treated in a few, but crucial, sections of Lumen Gentium. Its opening paragraph names the Church."a kind of sacrament or;sign of intimate union with God, and of the unity of' all mankind." It insists that the visible assembly and the spiritual community"form one interlocked reality which is composed of a human and a divine element."~9 But here again the insight is not developed and we are not told how the Church is this sign.20 . .0 The-sacramental principle--a distinguishing mark Of Roman Catho-licism- affirms that God works in and through visible, material :reality. The" principle stems from the realization that, since men and women are finite and limited, the divine is available only sacramentally, that is, by mediation. This sacramental encounter is the point of intersection between God and hispeople, an encounter is the point of intersection between God and his people, an Ecclesial Relationships for Religious / 515 encounter through which the grace of Christ reaches individuals and communi-ties. As Thomas Aquinas teaches, Jesus Christ is the great sacrament of God's presence and salvific action. Similarly the Church is the sign of Christ and the Spirit's'~healing presence among us. This traditional teaching has been utilized by many contemporary theologians who see in sacramentality a key to understanding the Church and her mission. Essential Elements insists that religious life "in a special way participates in the sacramental nature of the People of God."~1 But even if one considers the Church primarily in sacramental terms, as the document~ purports to do,22 the visible, institutional aspects can be overpowering--and Essential Elements is here a parade example. It is quite possible to accept :fully the principle of mediation and at the same time object to its wholesale application. In the widest sense sacramentality or mediation applies to the realities through, which the transcendent is disclosed and communicated tb us--realities also through which .our responses to the transcendent are experienced. It is in this very broad sense that Essential Elements uses the principle. This extension of the concept of mediation to numerous aspects of religious life meets with strong criticism and resistance. The document is heavily weighted in terms of mediation through the visible Church and her hierarchy. For example, the profession of the counsels is mediated by the Church;23 it is the Church that authenticates and mediates consecration;24 and continues to mediate the consecratory action of God.2~ Further, the document is replete with phrases like "competent ecclesiastical authority".26 ".vows~which the Church receives",~7 and "authority conferred by the Church."~ Additional evidence of the role of mediation can be seen in the emphasis place upon consecration. Following its sources,~9 Essential Elements insists that "the baptismal gift is the. fundamental Christian consecration and is the root of all others.~° With the:same fidelity3~ it notes that religious life is "a partictilar form of consecration."~ Despite the rather frequent use of the word, however, thenotion of consecration is not central in the source documents, as is evident in specifying phrases such as "a certain special consecration."~a (It is noteworthy also that the Council' Fathers rejected De consecratis "Concern- Consecrated Persons"--as a title for the conciliar decree on religious life.) It is somewhat surprising, then; that Essential Elements has seized upon con-secration as the category unde~ which to organize what it has to say about religious life, ~tating explicitly: "Consecration is the basis of religious life,TM and then continuing to use consecration as a leitmotif in almost every subsequent section. This focus is not pleasing to everyone. True, consecration has been an honored concept in the tradition of the Church for long centuries, but it is not a popular focus today. Consecration (setting aside some one or some thing for divine worship and service) smacks of dualism, and introduces dichotomies alien to a contemporary holistic approach to reality. Rightly or wrongly, the term is seen by some as elitist, a perpetuation of the "state of perfection" 516 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 mentality. It can also be argued that a decree.addressed to members of institutes dedicated to works of the apostolate should accord a higher place to mission, even though the document is careful to note that consecration always leads to mission.35 Further, Essential Elements insists that consecration takes place through an ecclesiastical, hierarchical function; Lumen Gentium states that the liturgical setting of religious profession manifests that it is .a state consecrated to God.37' Thus the action of the Church looms large in comparison with the subjective dedication, that commitment is more decisive than its acceptance by the Church through the hierarchy, an acceptance which makes the commitment visibly and publicly ecclesial. In speaking of conse-cration through the profession of the counsels, Perfectae caritatis says that the perfection of the consecration depends on the~stability of the vows or other bonds.38. On the contrary, it should be emphasized that what consecrates is not the vows,o,but the commitment expressed through the vows," which are specification for a life of total dedication. As the documents themselves make clear, totality is the characteristic of religious life. For many .religious the category of discipleship is a far more meaningful biblical paradigm to use in talking about religious life. Critics have asked why such an attractive concept was not utilized more fully, especially in light of the earlier declaration that "since the fundamental norm of religious life is a following of Christ as proposed by the Gospel, such is to be.regarded by all communities as their supreme law."39 Discipleship is a popular theme today; its bibliography--both for religious and Christians in general--grows apace.~° Avery Dulles has revamped his models in favor of the Church as ~i community of disciples; certainly this schema does justice to the elements present in the other models.4~ Essential Elements, however, refers'only briefly~to discipleship: "Formation is the process of becoming more and more a disciple of Christ."42 Possibly the writers chose to stress consecration (even, as we have seen, expanding the comments of its sources) because discipleship is seen a~ a gift and challenge to all the people of God, and to describe religious life as a particular~ form of discipleship might not provide a sufficient distinction. Consecration, of course, implies discipleship. As already noted; the authen-ticity of the consecration depends upon the. genuine commitment of the subject, that is, upon the acceptance of the demands of a life of discipleship. Critics may be right in holding that the emphasis on consecratio.n--neces~arily external' and involving mediation--may obscure the element of personal decisions and dedication as well as invite unneeded supervison from without. Consecraton can become a mere rite--something that is done to me, Anrther aspect Essential Elements chose not to treat is the prophetic nature of religious life. Here the document imitates the reserve of its sources. Considering the prophetic role of the people of God Lumen Gentium notes only that . ¯ the holy People ofGod shares also in Christ's prophetic office. It spreads abroad a " living witness to him, especially by a life of faith and:charity and by offering tO God a Ecclesial Relationships for Religious / 517 sacrifice of praise, the tribute of lips which give honor to his name.43 Nowhere does it elaborate this theme. In the subsequent chapter on religious the many riches of their life are noted, but without specific mention of a prophetic function.'~ Essential" Elements does not go beyond its sources, although some paragraphs in the section on witness show a prophetic stance.45 Conciliar documents and subsequent pronouncements have made a studied effort to avoid defining too closely the essence of ~'eligious life. Despite the emphasis it places upon consecration Essential Elements calls tfiis the basis not the essence, of religious life. Public vows, consecration, life in community all these are described and discussed but with no affixing of strict labels. Given the evolution of religious life over the centuries (the shift from eremetical to cenobitical forms, the role of poverty, the concept of mediated obedience, the juridical nature of religious commitment)° it would be foolhardy to fasten upon any one of these important elements as everywhere and at all times essential to religious life. What the°history of religious life does make clear is that this way of life is created by a person's total dedication to God in an' exclusive relationship. Early monks were described (and later defined) as completely ded!cated to God and totally oriented to his service. To become a monk was identical with giving oneself over to God. Later St. Thomas insisted on the totallgift of one's life as the hallmark of religious life. Celibacy, renunciation, eventually mediate~d obedience all were expressions of the interior commitment to live entirely for God. The religious brings the commitment common to all Christians to the level of a lifestyle. As the core of such a life is the personal decision to respond, to the internally received vocation. Vatican II acknow-ledged this interpretation, affirming that the religious is "totally dedicated to God and is committed to the honor and service of God under a new and special title."46 Perfectae carita~is speaks of "self-surrender involving their entire lives,"47 and "a call to live for God alone."~8 Essential Elements picks up on the same note, speaking of a "profound and free self-surrender."49 The religious "dedicates the whole of life.to God's service."~0 In reflecting on the relative merits of consecration and discipleship as the better paradigm for clarifying religious life, it is ~vell to remember that all our descriptions and discussioris are part. of the history of a form of life which is still evolving. The definitive word on the Church has yet to be. spoken; how much more so for religious life! Surely there is room for more than one view. Given the conservative (preservative) nature of religious writing in general, the document of n~cessity shows a rootedness in .th+ past and a somewhat unwilling concession to the exigencies of the contempo~rary scene. But it has definitely advanced beyond positions of twenty years ago, evincing a greater understanding of different styles of community life, of the need for new forms of service, the mutuality of authority and obedience, and the nature and scope of format~.on. De.spite shortcomings, it is a document we can live and work with. 5111 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 But each of us comes to the reading of Essential Elements with particular baggage of our own baggage which may lead us to accept or reject the document out of hand. I would now like to consider some of the obstacles in the way of an honest approach to Essential Elements. Today we hear a great deal about tension: tension headaches and tensions between the super-powers; harmful tensions and creative tensions; interpersonal and intrapersonal tensions. It is the last-n~med--intrapersonal--that I want to speak aboui. All of. us necessarily operate with inner tensions which can be destructive or helpful depending on how successfully we achieve a creative balance. Most ofour specific tensions can be gro.uped under the master category of a tension between the world of desire and the world of limitsP~ A consideration of this topic may furnish some insights on our attitude to the Church in general and to Essential Elements in particular. It does noi require much reflection on the data of our experience to show that human thoughts and feelings oscillate between the poles of great expectations--for ourselves and our world and a depressed.recognition of the barriers imposed by our finiteness. Lumen Gentium says it well: ¯ . tl~e modern world shows itself at once powerful and weak. capable of the noblest deeds or the foulest . The truth is that the imbalances under which the.modern world labors are.linked with that more basic imbalance rooted in the heart of man. For ~n man 'himself many elements wrestle with each other. Thus. on the one hand? as a creature he experiences his limitations in a multitude of ways. On the other, he feels himself to be boundless in his desires and summoned to a higher life.52 The language of Lumen Gentium is abstract and non-specific, but practical examples from everyda3~ life are not lacking, The realm of desires is the realm of imagining, questioning, fantasizing--outside space and time where the human spirit meets no fixed limits. We can thirst to be theacme of beauty or charm, to attain all wealth or knowledge, to abolish in~hstice and brifig peace to the world. No sooner do we pe,rceive something to be good than we can desire it. But the moment we attempt to actualize our desire we meet limits, for every acl of choice is an act of self-limitation as well. Some of these limits are built in: our sex, race, nationality. Others are products of our environment, training and education. Our desire for knowledge is contained by our mental ability, educationai opportun!ties or financial status. We can be overwhelmed by these' limits and refuse to work at transcending them or we can unrealistically deny their existence and embark on a Faustian venture doomed to failure. We mu~t have a healthy ~respect for limitations, but not settle for them. Conversely, like Daniel we must bemen and women of desire, aspiring to'excellence, but aware of limits, l~esires and limits interact: they test, correct and sustain each other. in a particular situation, however, we may deny one or the other and fail to hold them in creative (ension. We haay objectify our boundaries, making a value of our very limitations. Or we may objectify our aspirations, setting them Ecclesial Relationships for Religious / 5"19 forth as values in themselves and refusing to acknowledge any restrictions upon them.53 Briefly, and perhaps simplistically, a religious with a strongly institutional view of the Church may hold such a position through a kind of mindless loyalty which relieves her or him of responsibility for life decisions. Likewise the one who places no curb upon personal autonomy and independence may dismiss outright directives coming from hierarchical sources. The refusal to transcend limits or the failure to acknowledge them results in a harmful imbalance leading to depression, anger and arrogance. Some examples will illustrate our subject at hand relatedness to the Church. In the first place, we come up against the need to find a balance between desires and limits as we reflect upon the respective demands of tradition and experience. T.S. Eliot has observed that the mature poet must possess the historical sense--a perception not only of the past as past but of its, abiding presence: the poet must write with all of Europe in his bones.54 This kind of interaction is hard to come by, the more so in contemporary society. Our age of pluralism and personalism stresses, and quite rightly, the role of experience in living responsibly. Pope John noted this in his opening address .to the Vatican Council: ¯. the spirit of the ~,hole world expects a step forward toward a doctrinal penetration and a formation of consciousness ~n faithful and perfe~:t conformity to the authentic doctrine, which, however, should be studied and expounded through the methods ofo research and through the literary forms of modern thought. The substance of the ancient deposit of faith is one thing; the way in which it is presented is another.5~ Contemporary iheology¯in general works to correlate the classic formula-tions of faith with today's experience of salvation, a task involving past and present, tradition and experience in a process which is the pro.duct, not of caprice or whim. but of a.reflecting faith communityP6 In the particular theology of religious life we must bring our own experience to bear on the received teaching about that life. Ideally interaction should result, but realistically one or other element tradition or experience may be minimized or denied. A religious may place such restrictions on consulting the data of experience that he becomes frozen in the past. If the only thing necessary is to rec~ix~e a pat:adigm of religious life from others--whether the constitutions of my institute or hierarchical pronouncements--then personal experience is of small moment. Life then becomes a constant, perhaps defiant, reiteration of tradition. Personalism. pluralism, consultation of experience are all regarded as a betrayal of religious life. When a document like Essential Elements is received it is absorbed but held apart from the events in life which legitimately modify its content. On the other hand, a religious can objectify her own experience, making it the primary judge of reality, canonizing it to the point of neglect or denial Of the place of tradition in religious life, with a consequent dismissal of whatever does not accord with individual experience. But raw experience has little value. T.S. Eliot mourns,."We have had the experience but missed the meaning.'~7 Constitutions must do more than describe contemporary experience; they 590 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 must submit that experience to the light of the Gospel and traditional teaching concerning religious life. An oft-repeated criticism of Essential Elements is its failure adequately to acknowledge "the American e.~xperience," both the impact of democracy upon the experienc~e of religious life'in general, and the more specific American experience of the past two "decades of adaptation and renewal. Religious everywhere exist within the context of a particular culture which profoundly affects and shapes their lives. In the United States these past twenty years have witnessed the effort to articulate a form of religious life which is genuine and at the same time inculturated, that is, disengaged from the structures and customs of the past and brought into' line with contemporary American life. Inculturation is a desideratum, but so is "counterculturation," particularly for religious. Once again we .are in the world of desires and limits. The requirement~ of a culture often lead to a re-interpretation of the founder's charism. But not all elements of a culture are compatible with the Gospel; some are hostile. For authentic religious life there must be a continuing dialogue between the Gospel and its cultural expression. Let us look at another example. The Council calls us to be a pilgrim people, wayfaring Christians who have here no lasting ~ity. But the attitude proper to a pilgrim is threatened by the nester (who wants to move not at all) and by the rover (for whom change is the very stuff of life). The nester is all too willing to stay put. Religious 'who ' welcome the document's stre~s upon corporate mission, seeing in it the preservation of the founder's charism and an assurance of Church approval, need to reflect whether such l~oyalty does not stem from an exaggerated nesting instinct which makes thefia satisfied with limitations, freeing them from the risk of other works or from~the challenging forms of community and prayer which new tasks might demand. Nesters t~est comfortably in their limits, taking a passive stance and opting for the security provided by familiar structures. Nesters are often hard workers, but comfort and security, not challenge and growth, are their expectations of religious life. The kingdoffi °lSossesses for them no sense of urgency. Because such persons often do not think for themselves, they readily go along with the crowd and compromise values if this will help mairitain the status quo. To move frbm nester to pilgrim the situation must be acknowledged~ for what it is: a refusal to transcend limits and take responsibility for life. Such recognit.ion brings freedom to move beyond self, freedom to become a genuine pilgrim. Rovers too have difficulty balancing desires and limits, but of a different kind. Such religious entertain exaggerated notions of what (hey or their institute could accomplish if freed from hierarchical trammels. In warnings about scattering resources over too many works the rovers see only an encouragement of timid mediocrity and they are resentful of anyone who suggests parameters to their utopian schemes. Moving from project to project, they are voluble about what they are against--less clear about what they stand Ecclesial Relationships for Religious / 521 for. Destructive anger is often operative under the guise of zeal for the kingdom and service for the oppressed. A true pilgrim spirit cannot be attained without recognizing the poverty imposed by limitations. Johannes Metz observes: Through the transcendental expanse of his spirit, man lives in the open air. in the future of unlimited possibilities. His task is not to lose himself there, 15ut to make something of himself through them. He makes them his potentialities by his historically unique and irrevocable personal decision, through which he finds a foothold in the th~:ust of his existence. Doubtless we could multiply instances of such tensions within us. Let a final eXample serve as summary: the struggle between self-fulfillme~nt and self-transcendence. Thanks to developments in philo.sophy and the behavioral sciences our society has passed from institutionalism to personalism,,from an often static essentialism to existentialis.m. Religious life has reflected these changes. As novices many of us were "trained" (and the word is significant) in a traditional ethic Of self-denial and conformity; now we are confronted with healthful challenges to personal growth through responsible decision-making. Where once we awaited assignment at the discretion of the superior, now our gifts, our talents---even our preferences--are consulted and respected. The insights of psychology tell us that much of the discipline of the past--the asceticism, penitential practices, total-institution structures--was not the excellent means for personal development we once thought. Scores of institutes have mounted extensive programs: workshops in psychology, assertiveness training, human potential and the like--all dedicated to the self-actualization of the religious. This is to the good. Religious who were formerly content to let life happen to them, with limits imposed' by institutional structures and custom, have awakened to a sense:of freedom, responsibility and renewed vitality. They can now rejoice in new ways of acting unfettered by pessismism] legalism or guilt. But the journey°to self-fulfillment has pitfalls of its own. The goods of p~rsonal growth and independence can assume top rank in a hierarchy of objectified, individualistic values. The movement to actualize human potential can be trivialized tb the point of a petulant "doing my thing." Poised against the desire fore fulfillment is the Gospel call to conversion and self-transcendence. Behavioral scientists ask how the self of psychology and the self of the Gospel can be reconciled and some of them see no possibility of this. An easy appeal to the slogan, "The glory of God is man fully alive," would seem to suggest that the path of self-actualization is the only one we need to ~follow. But Jesus' directives about denying oneself, taking up the cross and even dying are still normative for the Christian. The dichotomy between self-fulfillment and the demands of Christian spirituality can be bridged only by a transcendence that reaches beyond both self-actualization and self-denial. Our deepest yearnings-- the desire for meaning, truth, value, love---can be satisfied only when we shift our primary focus from our personal needs and desires to the needs of others. It is to such transcendence that John Paul calls the whole Church, but 522 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 especially us religious, inviting us to live more intensely .the mystery of the redemption. It is a call to holiness and renewal, a call to penance and conversion.59 In practical terms the call requires objective and humble evaluation of our life. We can of course choose not to heed this particular appeal. ,We can receive the document as an unwelcome and unwarranted admonition, spend our timelooking for the hidden agenda, fault the document for its omissions and commissions. In such case we have'had the experience but missed the meaning. ~ Essential Elements is an authoritative document, but not a definitive one. Like Lumen Gentium it does not canonize the past nor consecrate tl~e present but prepa.res for the futui'e, not least of all by reason of the fruitful dialogue it can initiate. A healthy realism shows that we are all, hierarchy and religious alike, part of a sinful Church, semperformanda et reformanda. We manifest the mystery of the Lord "ina faithful though shadowed Way.'~0 Let us work to remove the shadows so that we may become those "blazing emblemsTM of the kingdom in a Church which is truly lumen gentium, the light of the world. NOTES ~Hereafter, Essential Elements or EE. The edition used is that of the Daughters of St. Paul, Boston, 1983. ~lts application must be made with due regard for the principles applicable to all magisterial pronouncements. These principles, however, are not always clear. Karl Rahner notes, ~Theology has shown relatively little interest in a more nuanced answer to the question of the proper and permissible relationship of, the average Catholic to the official teaching of the Ch,,urch." See Rahner and K-H. Weger; Our Christian Faith: Answer for the Future (New ~ork: Crossroad, 1981), p. 125. 3EE. 2. 4Lette~ of John Paul II in EE, 4. 51bid. 3. 6EE, 8. 71bid, 10:, 81bid, II. 91bid; 12. ~01bid, 38, 40, 41, 42. ~qbid, 24. ~21bid ~3Hereafter,'LG. The sohrce for this and other documents of Vatican !I is Walter M. Abbott, ed., The Documents of Vatican !! (New York: Herder and Herder, 1966)~ ~4LG, 4. ~sSee Karl Rahner,~Concernfor the Church, Theological Investigations, XX, tr. E. Quinn (New York: Crossroad. 1981), pp, 94--97, ~6"~he disjunctive use of these terms is unfortunate. Karl Rahner notes that "the official element in the Church has a ~zharismatic element. For it is evident that the gifts of the Spirit can only be regulated by a gift of the Spirit. In other words any attempt to regard the official and charisma