Suchergebnisse

Issue 4.5 of the Review for Religious, 1945. ; for °' SEPTEMBER 15, 1945 ~Nnct,on, Key ÷o Heaven5 C~arence =Aug_ :Nobls . James:~A;" catholic Action . Francis F÷he Holy Spirit . Leo A. Cyri~ Communications Reviewed " Questions Ans~ De~:isions of the Holy See DLUME IV SEPTEMBER 15, 1945 ¯ CONTENTS :',IEXTREME UNCTION, KEY TO HEAVEN-~Clarence McAuliffe; BOOKS RECEIVED . - SPIRITUAL READINGS FROM THE COUNCIL OF TRENT-- Augustine Klaas. S.J . "AUFER A NOBIS"--James A. Kleist. S.J, CONTRIBUTORS . ¯ . THE CONTRIBUTION OF RELIGIOUS TO CATHOLIC ACTIO Francis B. Donnelly . bECISIONS OF THE HOLY SEE . THE INDWELLING OF THE HOLY SPIRIT--Leo A. Coressel, 8.J., WE DIED WITH CHRIST--Cyril ~91"lert, S.J . BOOKLET NOTICES . ". . . BOOK REVIEWS Weapons for Peace; Daily Progress in Religious Virtue: A Retreat Religious: Meditations on Eternity qor R~ligious . COMMUNICATIONS . QOESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 43. Return to Congregation and Disposition of Do~vry after Transfers to Cloistered Community . 44. Payment of Surplus Earnings to Motherhouse . "~. 45. Respective Jurisdiction of Local Superior, Principal, Hospital suP~ erintendent, and so forth . . , . 46. Right to Send Uninspect~d Letters to Local Superior ~. ,. ~'REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, SeptembeL 1945. ~ol. IV, No. 5. ~monthly; January, March, May, July, Septeinbgr. and November at the Colic 606. Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St.,°Mary's College, St. Mary~ ~ith ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter January at'the Post Office, Topeka,, Kansas. under the act of M~rch 3, 1879. Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.J. G. Augustine Ellard, S.J., Gerald'.Kill Editorial Secretary: Alfred F. Schneider. S.J. 1945, by Adam C. Ellis. Permission is hereby' granted f,reasonable Igngth, provided due credit be givett _this a~ ipt~on price: 2 dollars a year. , , i'B~fore wr~incJ to us. please consult notic~ on" Inside r.); I=xtreme Onctionz Key to ~e~ven Clarence McAuliffe, S.~'. THreEli gfiirosut st,i mwee wpre oabssaibstleyd l eaatr tnheed f/uann6 irmali Sorf eas sfievlleo wan-d abiding lesson. Still tinctured as we were with that" worldly spirit which encompasses death with an impene-trable fog of tears and. g!o?m, .we were perhaps mildly. shocked to sense an unusually cheerful atmosphere in the community after the funeral. This set us.thinking and we soon recovered from our shock. We reflected that no other reaction could be expected of religious. If death, as faith' teaches us, is the door to everlasting life, then the demise of a consecrated child of God must be a joyful event despite the natural pangs of separati6n. We. might have wept; we might have experienced a feeling of emptiness; but despite these lawfuland normal symptqms of grief,~ we realized that the occasion called much more for rejoicing. "Blessed are they who die in the Lord." The gaiety .consequent upon the funeral and evidently inspired by it taught us, as no instruction or sermon could, that immortality and heaven are facts, It made us realize more keenly that this life is zfierely a porch, not a home. It injected new blood into our spirit of detachment. But our fellow-reiigious had passed through a supreme ~ri~is before death and our joy hinged upon the conviction that he had met that crisis well. Death for every man is the climhx in a series of crises that make life a battlefield. We mawr. f.ail in other crises and yet succeed in life; but if we fail in the~crisis of death, we become eternal castaways. To CLARENCE MCAULIFFE Reaieua for Religio~zs guarantee our succeds at this crucial moment, our blessed Savio~ instituted the sacrament of extreme .unction.' Sometimes we .might .feel inclined to ask: "Why did the Savior not restore the gift. of immunity from death , which God granted to the entire.human, family. before Adam',s sin?." We might answer partly that He has done almost as much by giving us the sacrament of extreme unc-tion. Cold weather is not particularly burdensome to i~ealthy people" who live in well-heated homes and dress comfortably when they. go out. But it is hard on- the poor because they are bereft of fuel and sufficient Clothing. In the same way, dea'th would be a formidable spectre if we '"were left to our natural resources. But God has removed its s'ting by the spir.itual anodyne of extreme unction. Probably not one Catholic in. ten could explain ful.13T the real reason why Godestablished this .sacred rite. Some would say God wants to help sick people prepare for death. O~hers would say that He wants to comfort them. Others believe that He intends t0improve the health of th~ infirm. Others ~igain, think that He aims at removing temporal pun-ishment from the soul. All these answers contain~ some truth, but none of them gives thewhole truth. Asa matter of fact, God's real purpose is to purge the soul so thoroughly of all traces of sin and its effects that the dying man will by-pass purglitory. If he. prepares sufficiently for extreme unction and cooperates generously with its 'graces, he will never experience the frustrated love and sensible pains of God's temporary pris.on but will be welcomed at once by the smile of Christ into God's mansion, for the just. Astonikhing? Yes, but true iaone the l~ss and a'belief. held by all' theologians without exception. Of course, fo obtain this immediate admittance into heaven, certain con-ditions must be fulfilled. Among these, tw.o are funda-mental. The sick person must ordinarily be in the state of 290 8epteraber, 1945 EXTREME UNCTION grace when.he receives the sacrament, since it is primarily a, sacrament of the living. Sdo~dly, he must receive the sac-rament while he still has the use of his ,faculties. If he delays it until his physical and mental forces are nearly. depleted, he may not be sufficiently disposed to .gain the full effect of the sacrament and he will not-be able to use ade-quately the graces spon, taneously springin~ from it. ~To prepare him for God's, embrace instantaneously ¯ after death, certain results ,must be produced in the soul of the skk person. To. begin with, his sickness itself is the cause of spiritual trouble and may endanger his eternal sal-vation. To meet this danger, the sacrament provides the infirm man with actua! graces that impart courage and buoyancy to him. These actual graces do not all come when the sacrament is received, but from that time until the moment of death they keep. coming whenever they are needed. If the sick person is to recover from his malady. they keep coming until he is out of serious danger. Nor is their coming due to the prayers or .good works of the patient but principally ~o the divine efficacy of the sacra-ment itself. It is part of our faith that extreme unction confers this spiritual strength and co'nfidence to the sick. In fact, it is a qui.,te commonly accepted opinion today that this is the dis-tinctive effect of this sacr~iment. That we need God's spe-cial support when we fall 'seriously ill is beyond question: When the body is weak, lits passions become unruly. Satan is apt to be ~very active as death impends. This does not mean that we believe that most religious will be assailed at this time by temptations of every kind. Many sick r.eligious apparently are bothered very little by assaults against pugity or faith or resignation to God's will. But fear, diffidence, anxiety, ahd~depression are the common lot of those whose ilives are ebbing away. In normal health We 29i CLARENCE MCAULIFFE R'euieu; [or Religious do not realize how. harrowing such temptation.s may become because we do not realize how fond we are of this present world until we are on,the verge of leaving it. may meditate on death again and again;, but our imagina-tions are not keen enough'to stir up ~he strains of f~eling that will strike their discordant notes when we are about to say farewell to this world forever. '~'~I am dangerou.sly ill. The doctor says I shall die or am likely to die." Once we.sp, eak thus with ourselves, a turmoil naturally arises in our souls. Willy-nilly our memories go searching back through our ,entire past begin-ning from the dawn ,of ,reason. Black splashes of' sin mar the beauty of the picture we have painted. These sins, have been forgiven, of course, by the ~acrament of penance. But now is the time when Satan strives to upset our tranquil-lity. "Didn't. you fail to confess such and such a sin. "You weren't sorry when you confessed that sin or you wouldn't have committed it again." "Look at those temp-tations you dallied with." '~Look how remiss you were in your religious life." Such temptations to distrust~for ~they are purely te~nptations--are apt to assail the holiest religious;' and against them the sacrament of extreme unc-tion sends forth its invigorating injections of confidence. courage, and childlike trust in God. But not all disquietude arises from the past. The present, too, has its special diificulties., We may be worried by the distracted condition of ou~ mind. We cannot focus. o, ur attention on God or on anything else. We try to pray ~tnd we cannot. God flits,in and out of our minds. This inattention may easily disturb our tranquillity. In addition~ we are apt to be impatient and irritable. Little things get On otir nerves:, Above all, we are apt to feel, a sense of neglect-7--a piercirig .realization that we are alone. 'For hours at a stretch we have no company.If we should have .292 t September, 1945 " I EXTREME UNCTION visitors, we might not have any chance of recuperating. And yet we feel keenly the .need of human consolat{on, Through all these disturbances of mind and emotion, the sacrament of extreme unction is at work. God, through its efficacy, keeps touching-the.soul, keeps soothing it like a balmy breeze on a sultry night. Inability to pray is tinc-tured with a firm trust in God. Loneliness i~ .mitigated. by the surging realization that God is all and that His society alone is all we need. " ' But we. may also be ialarmed:by thoughts of the future. ' Our glazed eyes stray t6 the window and takein a misty view of the world outside--the sunny .sky or the verdant garden. "I may ne-ver ~ee them again in this world after today. Tomorrow the' rest of the community will rise as usual and I shall not be among them."' It takes dangerous illness tO make us realize how strong is our attachment to ¯ this ephemeral world; and the sense of be.ing torn from it may raisea veritable tumult in our soul. Then there is that crucial moment of death itself, when body and soul will be. severed, and perhaps w~ 'shrink from it and from the p, os-. sible agony which may precede it. S~iritual ,hazaRds, too, may lie ahead. Because of our sickness, we.~seem like rud-derless boats and we w'orry perhaps about our ability to steer God's course safely, t3ut extreme unction will be our substitute rudder. Through its graces we shall have the courage t~) face the pair/of sep~iration. .We shall offer our impending physical sufferingh, in union with the suffering Christ, and a humble confidence in God will buoy us up to grapple successful'y with any~emptation whatever, In addition to strengthening the soul, extreme unction has within itself the power to remove all our past unfor-given venial sins. ~i minority of theologians believe that this effect is procured, only indirectly. They believe, ~ namel);, that the sacrament inspires us with such strong. 293 CLARENCE MCAULIFFE . Reoiew for ,Reli~?ious inclinations to love of God and general, pie.ty that if we utilize these graces, we shall.delete all ourvenial sins. This is not the prefe.rred 6pinion, however:. Most.theologians maintain that this effect ~esults automatically from the sacrament. It depends not on utilizing the graces ¯arising from ,the. sacrament, but on a voluntary act of virtue made at the time we receive it or shortly before. This act of vir-tue is one of imperfect contrition ~ for all our venial sins. Some th,eologians would demand even less than this, but it is quite certain that if we do sincerely make an act of imper-fect contrition for all past unforgiven venial sins-~even though we do not, since We cannot, recall each one 'indi-vidually- they are at once remitted in their entirety. Such an act of sorrow should be easy for any religious. "However, sin is not the only obstacle to immediate access to'heaven. We¯may be weighed down by a great debt of temporal punishment for past forgiven, sins, and it is not quite so easy to rid ourselves of this by reception, of the sacrament. Unquestionably the sacrament can do so, since its very aim is to escortthe soul into heaven at once; and undoubtedly it can-do' so by its own inherent e~cac~!: In other words, the removal of all Our temporal punishment dods not depend on our cooperation or non-cooperation With the graces flowering from the sacrament, but upon our own subjective,, voluntary disposition, at ~the time we receive it. Just as damp wood ¯impedes the burning action of fire, so a lack of the required disposition may prevent extreme unction fro'm blot~inffout every last vestige of our temporal punishment, though it will always remove some of this by the mere. fact that we have received the sacrament worthily. , What then is the necessary dispo, siti0n On our part in order to gain this effect? Quite probably an act.of attri-tion (imperfect contrition),, but one of grea,ter perfection 294 September, 1945 EXTREME UNCTION than that required to delete all our venial sins. But how perfect;does it have to be? We~do not know for sure, but reliable authors say that it must be more fervent than that required by l~aptism in an adult and less fervent than that demanded by confession in .order that these sacraments may remove all temporal punishment. Baptism wip'es away all temporal punishment in the adult who makes.a valid act of attrition, even though it be of the lowest degree. Confession, on the other hand, exacts a more perfect attri-tion, not that sins may be forgiven by it; but that the entire mass of temporal punishment may be carried away. The atti~ition of the average penitent is har~lly sufficient to enable his confession'to annihilate all his temporal punish-ment. In.extreme unction, then, a lesser sorrow would be .necessary to remove all t~mporal punishment than,.is required in the sacrament of penance. Such an act of attri-tion should not be difficult for a sick religious to make. Inn fact, an act of perfect contrition for all sins, or .of perfect love for God, should b~ easy for religious; and it appears beyond dispute that such an act coupled with the sacra-ment would make. the sbul ready for immediate entrance into glory. Any-~ tiny debt of temporal punishment incurred between the reception of the Sacrament and death would' be forgiven either through the prayers and good works of the ailing person, or by Holy Communion, or by indulgences, particularly~by the plenary indulgence attached " to the Apostolic Benediction which is conferred immedi-ately after extreme, unction but which suspends its effect until the very moment of death. ¯ In view of all this, certainly we should not say that very few persons receive the full effect of extreme unction. Since this Sacrament has been instituted b~r Christ to con-duct souls~directly into heaven, it is surely no compliment to the merciful Savior to say that He established the sacra- 295 CLARENCE MCAULIFFE Review for Religious. ment for this purpose but has maple the conditions for reaiizing it so difficult that hardly any one can ever hope to escape purgatory by.receiving it. As Father Kern, S.J., perhaps the foremost authority on extreme unction, puts it: "It would hardly.savor of piety to think that this sacra-ment produces its full effect only in.comparatively isolated instances." Another remarkable, yet secondary and conditioned, effect of extreme unction is that it sometimes restores bodily health to the sick person. This fact is certain and is defined doctrine. The cure itself may be miracul,bus, but this is not ordinarily the case. Hence, if the sick person is to recover from his malady, he should receive the sacrament 15efore his natural physical forces are exhausted. But even though he does receive it in plenty of time, he may not get 'well since this effect always depends on the condition expressed by the Council of Trent, "'ubi satuti anirnae exioedierit.'" This Latin phrase is susceptible of two trans- . lations, either of which is admissible. If we translate it, "if it conduces to the soul's salvation," then we mean that the sick person regains his health only if his salvation hin. ges upon restored health. Thus even the greatest saints who did not attainthis effect from extreme unction would have lost their sot~Is lqad ghey lived longer. Thus, too, people who .ha've recovered from their illness through the sacrameni are predestined and can not lose their souls even though they should live for many years. This opinion may be held safely, but its conclusions are so difficult to admit that the majority of theologians today prefer to translate the Council's phrase:~"if it conduces to the soul's welfare." This means that if restoration 0f, bodily health will aid in bringing about the perfect cleansing of the soul at t.he time of the sacrament's reception, and only then, health will result from the sacrament. In other words, an 296 .~eptemSer, 194 ~ EXTREME UNCTION imp.ro.vement in health may in some cases be a great aid towards fostering courage and confidence and for cooper:. ating with the graces of the sacrament. When this is the case, the sacrament will automatically restore bodily' vigor pax-tially and sometimes even completely. ,Just bow this is accomplished is debatable, but the fact itself is not only part of our faith, but is attested by the experience of priests, doctors, and nurses. " : One other singular aspect.of the sacrament of extreme u.nction should be mentioned. Though asacrament of .the living, it partakes in a special .way of the nature of a sacra. ment of the dead, and under certain conditions it can blot .out even mo/tal sin. Suppo'se that-a Catholic were to com-mit a inorta! sin today, and that tonight,, before retiring, he would make an act of imperfect contrition. During the night he becomes seriously ill and lapses into unconscious-ness before, he thinks, about-making an act of perfect con-trition or has the opportunity- of receiving the sacrament of penance. The morta! s~in ~is still unfo~rgiven; but if he were to be anointed while unconscious, he would regai.n the state ¯ of grace through the efficacy of extreme unction. He would, of course, have.the obligation of confessing tl~e.mortal sin later if he recovered consciousness and confession were pos-sible, just as a man has the obligation of confessing mortal sins dve.n though he has madean, act Qf perfect contrition for them. The fact that extreme unction can remit mortal sins is commofily admitted by theologians today, and it ~is an important truth to keep in mind. It indicates that this sac: rament may be the only certain means of salvation for many unconscious dying persons and"thus shows us th.e ,urgency. of callin'g a pries.t to administer the sacrament. Such are the effects of extreme unction. Its general purpose is to make us ready for' God's handc!asp the 297 CLAI(ENCE MCAULIFFE moment we die. To achieve this, it st~:engthens us against the trials preceding death, it remits all venial sins and all temporal punishment if we do our part. This sacrament ~explain~ the'statement of Oliver Wendell Holmes: "So far as I have observed persons nearing theend of life, the Roman Catholics understand the business of dying better than Pr6testants. I have seen a good many Roman Cath-olics on their dying beds and it has always appeared to me that they accepted the inevitable with a composure which showed that their belief, whether or not the best to live by, yeas a better~one to die by than most of the harder creeds that have' replaced it." Holy Simeon pronounced his Nunc dimittis with the child Jesus in his arms. We pronounce our Nunc dimittis in the arms of Jesus through, the graces coming from extreme unction. Books Received ¯ (From June 20 to August ZO) THE LITURGICAL CONFERENCE, Chicago¯ National Liturgical Week : 1944. ¯ FREDERICK PUSTET CO. New York. The Holg Sacrifice. By Peter Wachter, O.S.B. $2.50. the Holg Ghost. By Rev. L. M. Dooley, S.V.D. (Ed.). BRUCE PUBLISHING COMPANY, Milwaukee. August(ne's Quest of Wisdom." By Vernon J. Bourke, Ph.D. THE NEWMAN BOOKSHOP, Westminster; Maryland. Moral Tbeologg. By Rev. Heribert Jone, O.F.M.Cap., J.C.D. FIELD AFAI~ PRESS, New York. Margt~noll Mission Letters, Vol. I, 1945. 50 cents. THE SODALITY OF ST. PETER CLAVER, St. Louis. The Servant of God Marg Theresa Countess Ledochowsha. $1.5~0. Further Discourses on $2.50. $3.00. $3.00. By Valeria Bielak. 298 ;piritual Readings from the Council of Trent Augustine Klaas, S.J. ~OUR hundred year, ago, towards the obscure little i- to.wn of Trent in. sduthwest Tyrol could be seen con- ~ verging for many ~eeks cardinals; bishops, abbots, priests, 'religious ~of .div~ers orders, legates of Emperor Charles V and of other ~overeigns, soldiers, retaine.rs, and servants. The~ came si~agly or. in picture,sque cavalcades., riding on horse or miile-back, .carried in ornhmented litterS. jolting along in. lumbering wagons, or trudging on foot through the luxuriant v~lley of the Etsch,. Their features, speech, dress, and cust6ms bespoke the universality of Christendom. , On the Third Sundaiy of Advent, December 13, 1545, after marching in procession through the streets singing the Veni Creator, the disti,~guished ecclesiastics convensd in solemn assembly in th~ choir of Trent's Romanesque ca~thedral, dedicated to Saint Vlgdxus, to open with a High Mass, of the Holy Spiritithe nineteenth, ecumencial council of th~ Church. It v~as an'~impressive and ~olorful gathering. Present were the threeI legates of the reigning Pontiff, Paul III, appointed by him to be,also the rotating pres~, dents of .the council" Cardinal Giovanni del Monte, future Pope 3ulius III; Cardinal Marcello Cervini, later pope Mar-cellus II; and the Englishman, Cardinal Reginald Pole. Present also were.Cardi~aal Cristoforo Madruzzo, Bishop of Trent, four archbishops, twenty-one bishops, five gen-erals of religious orderS, nine canon.ists, and for(y-two theologians, besides ,man~y assisting priests and not a few prominent .laymen. Ex~cept for four Spanish diocesan priests, all the theologians were members of religioas orders, 299 AUGUSTINE KLAAS ¯ , Revieto /:or R~li~ibus "six .Dominicans, eighteen Franciscans, five Augustinians~ fi~e Carmelites, and four Servites. The Bishop of Bitonto, Cornelio Mussi, a famous Franciscan orator, preached the sermon in Latin. When Cardinal del Monte, the celebrant of the Mass, had finished the prayers pre.scribed'by the Ceremonial, Tommaso Campeggio, Bishop of Feltre, read in a loud voice from the pulpit the papal Bull Laetare Jerusalem .convoking the council and anol~her .appointing .th~ three legates of the Holy See. Then Cardinal del Monte, with the assent of the bishops, officially proclaimed the c~uncil open and fixed' January 7, 1546 as the date of the second session. The ceremony closed with a Te Deum. Lowly Trent had. been catapulted to fame. As an ecumenical city it now ranked on a par with and even above Nicea, Ephesus, Constantinople, Chalcedon, Lyons, Florence, and all the rest, because the council held within its ~w.alls was undoubtedly the most momentous and successful of the twenty ecumenical cohncils of the Church. The Council of Trent had not been easy to convoke. As earlyas 1518 Martin Luther had hypocritically appealed from Pope Leo X to an ecumenical council hoping in this way to avoid the condemnation of his errors in Rome. Protestants after him had repeatedly demanded a' general council. The succeeding Popes and Emperor Charles V were sincerely for i~, but ecclesiastical .and political obstacles rose up again and again to block the way and so it was put off for .years. Francis I, "most Christian king of the French," bad not always lived up to his ~itle, and Eng-land's Henry the Eighth was a troublemaker~ too. Finally, just when the way was clear and the council ready to be summoned, the Protestants. rejected it and refused to appear at Trent. The Pope reluctantly determined to hold the long overdue council without them. 300 September, 1945. READINGS FROM TRENT The principal objective of the Council of Trent .was twofold: first, the condemnation and rooting out of Prot-estant heresies by clearly defining the Catholic doctrines attacked; and secondly, the carrying through of the 10ng needed reform of the Church's inner life by removing the abuses that bad crept in. It was decided to treat doctrinal and disciplinary matters simultaneously in the council. -Twenty-five ecumenical Sessions were held, the number ¯ of attending Fathers and theologians fluctuating. but gen-erally increasing,as time went on. T~hree main periods may be distinguished. The first, under Pope Paul III, lasted from, 1545 to 1549; during this time ten sessions were. held, the last two at tSologna, whither the council had bemoved because of a threatened plague at Trent. tSack at Trent once more, the. second period opened under Pope Julius III and went from 1551 to 1552, covering, sessions eleven to six- . teei~. After a suspension of ten years, .the council recon-v~ ned under Pius IV and held the remaining nine sessions during 1562 and 1563. Some of the most important doctrinal decrees w~re those ¯ dealing with Holy Scripture, original sin, justification, the sacraments, the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, the yeneration of the~saints, and indulgences. Reform decrees were passed .concerning episcopal jurisdiction,, the bishop's obligation of residence in his diocese, legal matters and the morals t.be~ clergy, and the seminary training of candidates for Holy Orders. Others pertained to religious, their vows, their novitiate, their obligation of cloister, and so on. Finally, on December 4, 1563, when all business had been duly dispatched, Cardinal Morone, pa.pal legate and " last, president of the council, intoned the Te Dearo, and when it bad been chanted, officially closed the council with the wordst "Most Reverend Fathers, go in peace." All answered with a hearty "Amen." All present then signed "301 AUGUSTINE KLAAS Reuieto /or Religious .the acts of the council: :there were four cardinal-legates, two" cardinals, three patriarchs, twenty-five archbishops. one hundred and sixty-seven bishops, seven generals of reli-gious orders, seven abbots, and nineteen procurators .who signed in the name of the thirty-three absent prelates. The following year, .January 26, 1564, Pope Plus IV issued the bull of confirmation and stipulated that the ,decrees. would be effective as of May 1., 1564. Nineteen years had elapsed since the opening of the first session in the cathedral. of Trent. .Of 'all the ecumenical touncils of the Church, Trent was the longest in time, the richest in doctrinal content, the most efficacious in repelling error and in reforming.th~ moral and disciplinary life of the Church. "With rejuvenated and redintegrated strength Catholicism could now face the Protestant world," wrote the hostile historian Ranke.' Indeed, the Council of Trent was the Church's mighty answer to the Protestant Reformation. It was to be the corner-stone of the counter-reformation. On it the Church still continues to build. In this fourth centenary year .is it not fitting that we reread the decreesof the Council of Trent, at least, the more important ones? During the year priests and, religious can make these decrees the subject of very profitable spiritual reading, because they deal with many revealed truths that are basic in the spiritual life. Sound spirituality must always be deeply, rooted in revealed dogma. As an aid to such spiritual reading I have selected the secl~ions on dus6fication, Penance, the Sacrifice of the Mass, and the Eucharist. Since their Scriptural and dogmatic content are extremely meat, y, the reading should be Slow and medi-tative. The second method of prayer of the Spiritual Exercises can'also be fruitfully employed on these inspiring truths. 302 September, 19.45 READINGS FROM T, RENF Except for some omissions of text and references I am in: debted for the following selections to Canons and Decrees of the Council of Trent, edited by the Rev. H. J. Schroe-der, O.P., Herder, 1'941. dustitication through Christ The holy council declares first, that for a correct and clear under-standing of the doctrine of 'justification, it is necessary that each one recognize and donfess that since all men had lost innocenc~ in the prevarication of Adam (1)~, having become unclean t 2), and. as. the Apostle says, by nature children of wrath (3), as has been set forth in the decree on original sin, they were so far the servants of sin (4) -and under the power of the devil and of death, t'hat not only the~ Gentiles by the force of nature, but not evefi the Jews by the very letter of the law'of Moses, were abl~ to be liberated or to rise there-from, though free will, weakened as it was in its powers and down-ward bent, was by no means'extinguished in them. Whence it came to pass that the heavenly Father, the Father of mercies and the God of all comfort'(5), when the blessed fulness of the time was come (6), sent to men Jesus.Christ, His own Son, who had both before the law" and during the time of law been announce.d and promised to many of the holy fathers (7), that be .might redeem the Jews who we.re under the. lau) (8), and that the Gentiles who" followed not after justice (9) might attain to justice, and that all ÷ then might receive the adoption of sons. .Him has God proposed, as a propitiator through faith in his blood (10) for out'sins, and not for 6ur sins only, but also for those of the whole world. ( 1 1') But though He died for all (12), yet all do not receive the bene-, fit of His. death, but those only to whom the merit of His passion is. communicated; because as truly as men would not be born unjust, if they were not born through propagation of the seed of Ad.am, since by that propagation they contract through him, when they are cbn-ceived, injustice as their own, so if they were not born-again in Christ, ~hey would never be justified, since in that new birth there is bestowed upon them, through the merit of His passion, the grace by which ' 1) Romans 5:12; I Corinthians 15:22 2) Isaias 64:6 3) Ephesians 2:3 4) Romans 6:17, 20 5) See II Corinthians 1:3 6) Galatians 4:4 7) Genesis 49:10, 18 8) Galatians 4:5 9) Romans 9:30 10) Romans 3:25 11) See I John 2:2 12) See II Corinthians 5:15 303 AUGUSTINE KLAAS Review [or-Religiou. s they are made just. For this benefit the Apostle exhorts us always to give thanks'to the Father, .who hath made us worthy t9 be par-takers of the lot of the saints in light, and hath delivered us from the power of darkness, "and hath transli~ted us into the kingdom of the Son of his love, in wbbm we have redemption and remission of sins.' (13) In which .words is given a brief description o'f the justification of the sinner, as being a translation from that state in which man is born a cl~ild of the first A'dam, to the state of grace and of the adoption of 'the Sons of God through the s.econd Adam, Jesus Christ, our Savior. .This translation however cannot, since the promulgation of the Gos-pel, be effected except through the laver of regeneration or its desire, as it is written: Unless a man be born again of water and the Holy Ghost, he cannot enter in[o the'kingdom of God. (.14) Preparation for dustilication It is furthermore declared that in adults the. beginning of that justification must proceed from the predisposing grace of God through ¯ Jesus Christ, that' is, from His vocation, .whereby, without any merits on their part, they are called; that they who by sin. had b~en Jut off from God, may be disposed through His quickening and helping grace "to convert themselves ~:o their own justification by freely assenting to and cooperating with that grace; so that, while God touches the heart of man. through the illumination of the Holy Ghost, man himself neithe~ does absolutely nothing while' receiving that inspiration, since he can also reject it, nor yet is he able by his own free will and without the grace of God to move himself to jus-tice in His sight. Hence, when it is said in the sacred writings: Turn ye to me, and I will turn to you (1 5), we are reminded of our lib-erty; and when we reply: Conver.t us, 0 Lord, to thee, and we shall be converted (16), we confess that we need the "grace of God. , Now, they (the adults) are disposed to that justicewhen, aroused and aided by divine grace, receiving faith by hearing (1 7), they are moved freely toward God, believing to be true what has been divinely revealed and promised, especially that the sinner is justified byGod by his grace, through the redemption that is in Christ desus (18); and when, understanding themselves to l~e sinners,' they, by turning themselves from the fear of divine justice, by which they. are 13) Colossians 1:12-14 14) John 3:5 15) Zacharias 1:3 16) Lamentations 5:21 17) Romans 10:17 18) Romans 3:24 304 ,~epternber, 194~ READINGS FROM TRENT salutarily aroused, to consider the mercy of God, are raised to hope. trusting that God will be propitious to them for Christ's sake: and they begin to love Him as the fountain of all justice, and on that account are moved against sin by a certain hatred and detestation, that is, by that repentance tha~ must be performed before baptism; 'finally, when they resolve to receive baptism,~to begin a new life and to keep the commandments of God. Of this disposition it is writ-ten : He that cometh to God, must believe that he is, and is a rewarder to them that seek him (19) : and, Be of good faith, son; tby sins are forgiven thee (20) : and, The fear of the Lord driveth out sin (21) : and, Do penance, and be baptized everyone of you in the name of Jesus Christ,. for the remission of your sins, and you shall receive the "gift of the Holy Ghost (22); and, Going; therefore, teach ye a!l nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and Of the Ho,ly Ghost, teaching them to observe all things ~vhatso-ever I have commanded you (23) : finally, Prepare you[ hearts unto the Lord. (24) Nature and Causes of Justification This disposition or preparation is followed by justification itself, which is not.only a remission of sins but also the sanctification and renewal of the inward man through the voluntary reception of the grace and gifts whereby an unjust man becomes just and fr.om being , an enemy becomes a friend, that he may be an heir according to hope of life everlasting. (25) The causes of this justifi.cation are: the final ¯ cause is the glory of God and of Christ and life everlasting: the effi-cient cause is the merciful God who washes and sanctifies (26) gratui-tously, signing and anointing, with the holy Spirit "of promise, who is the pledge of our inheritance (27): the meritorious cause is His most beloved only begotten, our Lord Jesus Christ, who, when we were enemies (28), for the exceeding charity wherewith he loved us (29), merited for us justification by His most holy passion on the wood of the cross and made satisfaction for us to God the Father; the instrumental cause is the sacrament of baptism, which is the sac-rament of faith, without which no man was ever jusl~ified; finally, the single formal cause is the justice of God, not that by which He 19) Hebrews 11:6 20) Matthew ,9:2; Mark 2:5 21) Ecclesiasticus 1:27 22) Acts 2:38 23) Matthew 28 :19 f 24) See I Kings 7:3 25) Titus 3:7 26) See I Corinthians 6:11 27) Ephesians 1:13 f 28) Romans 5:10 29) Ephesians 2:4 305 AUGUSTINE KLAAS Re~,ie~ for Religious Himself is just, but that by which He makes us just, that, namely: with which we being endowed by Him,.are renewed in the spirit o: our mind (30')~, and not only are we reputed but we are truly called and are just, receiving justice within us, each one according to his own measure, Which the Holy Ghost distributes to everyone as He wills (31), and according to each one's disposition and coop.eration. For though no one can be just except he to whom the merits of the passion of our Lord Jesus Christ are communicated, yet this takes place in that justification of the sinner, when by the merit of the most holy pas-sion; the charity of God is poured forth bg the .Holy Ghost i[o the° hearts (32)' of those who are justified and inheres in them; whence man through Jesus Christ, in whom he is ingrafted, receives in that justification, together with the remissioi~ of sins, all these infused, at. the same time, namely, ,faith, hope and charity. -For .faith, unless hope and cha.rity be adddd to it, neither unites man perfectly with Christ nor makes him a living member of His body. For which tea: son it is most truly said that faith without works is dead (33) and of fro profit, .and in Christ Jesus neither circumcision au'aileth any-thing nor uncircumdsion, but faith that worketh bg charity. (34). This faith, conformably to Apostolic tradition, catechumens ask of the Church before the sacrament of baptism, when they ask for the faith that gives eternal life, which without l~ope and charity faith cannot give. Whence¯also they hear immediately the word of Christ: If thou wilt enter into life, keep the commandments. (35) Where-fore, when receiving true and Christian justice, they are commanded. immediately on being born again, to preserve it pure and spotless, as the first robb' (36) given them through Christ Jesus in place of that which Adam by his disobedience lost for himself and for us, so that they may bear it before the tribunal of our Lord Jesus Christ and may have life eternal. Increase of dustification Having, therefore, been thus justified and made the friends and domestics of God (37), advancing from virtue to virtue (38), they are renewed, as the Apostle says, day bg da~t (39), that is, mortifying. 30) E1~hesians 4:23 31) See I Corinthians ¯ 12:11 32) Romans 5:5 306 33) James 2:17, 20 34) Galatians 5:6; 6:15 35) Matthew 19:17 36) Luke 15:22 37) Ephesians 2:19 38) Psalms 83:8 39) See II Corinthians 4:16 September, 1945 READINGS FROM TRENT the members (40) of their flesh, and presenting them as instruments of justice unto sanctification (41), they, through the observance of the commandments of God and of the Church, faith cooperating with good works, increase in that justice received thro.ugh the grace of Christ and are further justified, as it is written: He~ that is justs, let him be justified still (42) ; and, Be not afraid to be justified even to death (43) ; "and again, Do gou see that bg works a man is justified, a~d not bg faith onlg? (44) This increase'of justice holy Church asks for when she prays: "Give unto us,~O Lord, an increase of faith, hope and charity." (45) But no one, however much justified, should consider himself exempt from the observance of the commandments; no one ~hould use that rash statement, once forbidden by the Fathers under anathema,, that the observance of the commandments .'of God is impossible for" one that is justified. For God does .not command impossibilities, but by commanding admonishes thee to do what thou ~anst and to pray for what thou canst not, and aids thee that thou mayest be able~' His commandments are. not heavg (46), and his goke is sweet and burden light. (47.) For they who are the sons of. God love Christ, but they who love Him, keep His commandments, as He Himself testifies (.48): which, indeed, with the divine help they can do. "For though during this mortal life, men, however holy and just, fall at times into at least light and daily sins, which are also called venial, they do not" on that account cease to be just, for that petition of the just, forgive us our trespasses (49), is both humble and true: for which reason the just ought to feel themselves the more obliged to walk in the way of justice, for being now freed from sin, and made servants of God (50), they are able, living soberlg, justlg and godlg (51), to proceed onward through Jesus Christ, by whom" they have access unto this grace_. (52) For God does not forsake those who have been once jt~stified by His grace, unless He be first for-saken by them. Wherefore, no one ought to flatter himself with faith alone, thinking that by fhith alone he is made an heir and wi!l obtain the inheritance, even though he suffer not with Christ, that he mug be also glorified with him. (53) For even Christ Himself, as the 40) Colossians 3:5 41) Romans 6:13, 19 42) Apocalypse 22:11 43) .Ecclesiasticus 18:22 44) James 2:24 45) Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost 46) See I John 5:3 47) Matthew Ii:30 48) John 14:23 49) Matthew 6:12 50) Romans 6:18,,22 51) Titus 2:12 52) Romans 5: I f 53) Romans 8:17 307 AUGUSTINE KLAAS Reoieu~ [or Religious Apostle says, whereas he was the Son of God, he Ibar6ed obedience by .the things which he suffered, and being consummated/he became to all who obey him'the cause of eternal salvation. (54) For which reason the same'Apostle admonishes thbse justified, saying: Know (jou "not that they who run in ~the' race, all run indeed,,but one 'receiveth the prize? So run that go.u" may obtain, l therefore, so run,. not as at an uncertainty; I so fight, not as one beating the air, but I chastise my body and bring it into subjection; lest perhaps when I have preached to others, I myself should become a castaway. (55) So also the prince of the Apostles, Peter: Lab6r the more, that by good works you may make sure your calling and election. For doinq thesb things, you shall not sin at any time. (56) From which it is clear that they are opposed to the orthodox teaching of religion who maintain that the just man sins, venially at least,~in every good work; or, what is more intolerable, that he'merits eternal punishmen.t: and they also who assert that the just sin iri all works, if, in order.to arouse their sloth and to encourage themselves to run the race, they, in addition to this, that above all God may be glorified, have in View also the eternal reward, since it is written: I have inclined my heart to do thy justifications on account of the reward (57) ; and of Moses the Apo~tl~ says; that he looked unto the reward. (58) . ' Justification "Lost and Restored Those who through sin have forfeited the received gra~e of justi-fication, can again be justified when, moved by God, they exert them-selves to obtain through the sacrament of penance the recovery, by the merits of Christ, of the. grate 1osi. For this manner of justifica-tion is restoration for those fallen, which the holy Fathers have aptly called a second plank after the shipwreck of grace lost. For on behalf of those who fall into sins after baptism, Christ Jesus instituted the sacrament of penance when He said: Receive ye the Holy Ghost, whose sins you.shall forgive, they are forgiven them, and whose sin~ you shall retain, they are retained. (59) Hence, it must be-taught that the repentance of a Christiafi after his fall is very different from that at hisb~ptism, and that it includes not only a determination to avoid sins and a hatred of them, or a contrite and humble heart (60), 54) Hebrews 5:8 f 55) See I Corinthians 9:24, 26 f 508 56) See II'Peter 1:I0 57) Psalms 118:112 58) Hebrews 11:26. ~9) J~hn 20:22 f 60) Psalms 50:19 September, 1945 READINGS FROM TRENT but also the sacramental confession of those sins, at least in desire. to be made in its season, and sacerdotal ab.solution, as well as satisfac-tion by fasts, alms, prayers and other deyout exercises of the spiritual. life, not indeed for the eternal punishment, which is, together with the guilt, remitted either by the sacrament or by the desire of the sac-rament, but for the temporal puishment which, as the sacred writings teach, is not always wholly remitted, as is done in baptism, to~ho'se who, ungrateful to the grace of God which they have received, ha#e grieved the Holy Ghost (61) and have not feared to violate° the ¯ temple of God~ (62) Of which repentance it is written: B~, mindfu~ whence thou art fallen: do penance, and do the frst t~orks (63) : and again, Thesorrow that is according to God .worketh penance, stead-fast unto salvation (64); and again, Do penance, and bring fdrt,b fruits worthy of penance. "(65) Fruits of Justifcation: Merit Therefore, td men justified in this manner, whether they have preserved uninterruptedly the grace )eceived or recovered it when lost, are to be pointed out the words of the Apostle.: Abound in ewry good work, knowing that your labor is not in vain in ttie Lord. (66) For God is not unjust, that he should forget your work, and the love whibh you baue shown in his name (67) : and, Do not lose: your confidence, which ,hath a great reward. (68) Hence, to those who work well unto the end .(69) and trust in God, eternal life-is'to be offered, bdth as a grace mercifully promised, t6" the sons of God through Christ Jesus, and as a reward promised by God Himself, to be faithfully given to their good works and merits. (70) For this is the crown of justice which after his fight and course the Apostle declhred x~as laid up for him, to be rendered to him by the just judge, and not only bimt but also to all that love his coming. (71) For since Christ Jesus Himself, .a~ the head into the members and the vine into the branches (72), continually infuses strength into those justi-fied, which strength always precedes, accompanies and follows their good works, and without which they could not in any manner be 61) Ephesians 4:30 62) See. I .Corinthians 3:17 63) Apocalypse 2:5 64) See II Corinthians 7:10 65) Matthew 3:2: 4:17; Luke '3:8 66) See I Corinthians 15:58 67) Hebrews 6:10 68) Hebrews 10:35 69) Matthew 10:22 70) Romans 6:22 71) See II Timothy 4:8 72) John 15:1 f 309 AUGUSTINE KLAAS pleasing and meritorious before God, we must believe that nothing further is wafiting to those justified, to prev.ent them from being con-'" sidered to have, by those very works which have been done in God, fully satisfied tile divine law according to the state of this life, and to have truly merited eternal life, to be obtained in its (due.) time; pro-vided they depart (this life) in grace (73), since Christ our Savior says: If anyone shall dr~'nk of the water that I will give :him, he shall nc~t thirst forever; but it shall become in him a fountain of water springi'ng.up unto life everlasting. (74) Thus, neither is' our own justice established as our own from ourselves (75), nor is the justice of God' ignored" or repudiated, 'for that justice which is called ours, because we are justified .by its inherence in us, that same is (the jus-tice) of God, because it is infused into us by God through the merit of Christ. Nor must this be omitted, that a!thbugh in the sacred writings so much is attributed to good works, that even he that shall give "a,drink of.cold water to one of his least ones, Christ promises, shall not lose his reward (76) ; and th.e Apostle testifies that, That which is at present momentary and light of our iribulation, worketh for us above measure exceedingly an eternal weight of glory (77) : nevertheless; far be it that a Christian should either trust or glory in himself and not in the Lord (78), whose bounty.toward all men is so great that He wishes the things that are His gifts to be their merits. And since in many things we all offend (79), each one ought to. have before his eyes not only. the mercy and good.hess but also the severity and judgment (of God) ; neither ought anyone to judge himself, even though he be not conscious to himself ofanything' " (80). ; because the whole life of man is to be ex~imined and judged not by the judgment of man but of God, who will bring tO light the hidden things of darkness, and Will make manifest the counsels of the hearts, and then shall every man have praise from God (81), who, as i~ is written, will rehder to every man accordihg to his works. (82) (To be concluded) 73) Apocalypse 14:13 74) John 4:13 f 75) Romans 10:3; II Corinthians 3:5 76) Matthew 10:42; Mark 9:40 77) See II C6rinthians 4:17 78) See I Corinthians 1:31: II Corinthi- ¯ arts 10:17 79) James 3:2 80) See I Corinthians 4:3 f "81 ) I Corinthians 4 : 5 82) .Matthew 16:27: Romans 2:6: alypse 22:12 310 "Auger a Nobis" . James A. Kleist, S.I. THERE is a we~ilth.of fuel stored up in the wording of the missal, particularly in the Ordinary.of the Mass, which needs only the touch of devotion to set the soul on fire in its effort to foster private.prayer. In a very true sense the missal is the great everyday Catholic prayerbook, and its use outside the Massmay well be recommended. One illustration will be enough to indicate how this wealth may be drawn upon for ~he enrichment of one's spiritual life. As the priest .ascends the altar steps~ after saying the Confiteor with its train of versicles and responses, he recites the Aufer a nobis. He is about "to enter the holy of holies." This expression, borrowed-from ~he Old Test~iment (Num-bers 4:19), was the name for the most sacred part of the Jewish tabernacle, and late~ of the Temple~ in which the ¯ ark of the covenant.was kept, and where no one was per-mitted to enter except the high pr.iest-Tand he only-once a year. In the New Dispensation, every Catholic church is a holy of holies, a place which the Real Presence makes much holier than the Jewish holy of holies could ever be. , Now, in ascending the altar steps, the priest is directed to offer this beautiful prayer: "Take away from us our sins, we beg, O Lord, that by Thy grace~ we may enter the holy. of holies with. minds that hav.e been purified, through Christ our.Lord. Amen." As in almost all the pr0yers of. the Mass, the priest, though thinking of himself in particu-lar, uses the plural number, since he is offering the sacrifice XThe rendering "that l~y Thg grace we may enter" is more expressive-than the cur-rent version, "that we may be made more worthy to enter." The La:in word meceam~r is often used in the Missal to emphasize, not so much bur wortt~iness to do this or that, as the fac~ that we are doing this or that b~/ God's 9race or rhrouoh His mercy. 311 JAMES A. KILEI~T , Rev[etv for Religious. both for us and with us. At this point of the Mass, then, our minds have been purified by the publid act of contrition, the Confiteor, but its echoes havre not yet wholly died away; it is rounded out and finished by the Aufer a nobis and the loll'owing Oramus te, Domine. Is it not remarkable what amount of time; comparatively speaking, the Church assigns to this act of cleansing the heart from even the faintest traces of sin at the beginning of the sacred function, an amount that seems almost out of proportion to the more important parts of the sacrifice--the Offertory, the Conse: cration, and the Communion? .But, instead of questioning the wisdom of the Church, we shall do well to take a hint from the Liturgy for the sanctification of our lives.- The Church's mind is, of course, clear: we cannot reasonably approach God for His favors, as we do at Mass, while unre-pented sin still lingers in ihe sotil. Hence there is the ever-- pressing need of asking that, ir~ His mercy, He may blot out in us what is displeasing to Him. So much for the place and function of the Aufer a nobis within the framework of the Mass. It is important for us to realize, however, that the Church's prayers, although design'ed for some particular liturgical action, may yet be fittingly employed by:us in numerous s~tuations outside the Mass. This being so, it is easy to see how occasions may .arise in daily life when the Aufer a nobis, will come as a wel-come relief to the burdened soul when relief is. sorely needed, or will inspire such reverence as the presence of God should inspire. T,o illustrate. Some day is bound to be.our last day on earth, and we shall find ourselves at the door of eternity. Beyond the threshold, there~is the true holy of holies, the place where God thrones in, all His majesty, the reality rather than its earthly type or shadow. It is ihen that we shall be confronted with the question, whether our minds, 312 September, 1945 "AUFER A NOBIS'.' are sufficierltly purified tO enter. We trust in God's inercy, of course; but. surely, if the Aufer. a nobis, ~vhich is familiar to us from the Mass, has taken a definite hold on us and secured a definite place in our round of favorite aspirations, it will spontaneously rise to our lips :at the moment whe]a the need for it is most urgent, ,The familiar holy of holies of the Aufer a .nobis w, ill then widen, out into the as yet unfamiliar courts of heaven. Surely, we shall feel relieved to find that we have yet time for one last fervent prayer for forgiveness, And will.this prager not be all the more acceptable, all the more hearty,, because it presents itself in ~¢ords which, through frequent repetition while we were still in good health, have become, a~:ready vehicle of its meaning even when the mind is at its weariest in the last illness? ~ ' . To the saints the thought of death was an ever-pre~ent reality. May we not make .it such in our own life, too? There is a very unobtrusive way of doing it--provided we accustom ourselves.to r~cite the Aufer a, nobis, not only during Mass but frequefitly outside the Mass, with a view to preparing for entry into th~at heavenly holy of holies. Of its aptness for voicing our petition for a special grace in .the hour of death, there can be no doubt. This does not mean that it should supplant any other more formal prayers "for a happy death," but iic does mean that a prayer framed by the Church for a specific occasion--as in the case of the Aut:er a nobis at the beginning of the Mass--may, by" rea-son of its catholicity of expression, be utilized on other occasions when the fundamental, idea (here, the entry into the holy of holies) is the same. Thls principle, is of no small advantage in the spiritual life. Indeed, what need i's ther~ for multiplying prayers when there is a prayer in the ¯treasury of, the Church, known to us from other uses, which is ready to' hand and only waits to be used? For unction 313 JAMES A. KLEIST Review [or Religious and terseness of expression, at all events, we should find. it "difficult to match the prayers of the Universal Church. ~ But the availability of the Au[er a nobis as a cry for mercy is not thus exhausted. Let us think~for a moment of the significant a nobis. The Church loves, to use the plural numberin her official language. It is one of. her ways of ,impressing upon us the consoling doctrine of the Mystical- Body of Christ. "One for all and all for one" is a prin: ciple the Church~ never loses sight of in her prayers~ Con-sequently, then, if the AuIer a ,nobis r(minds us through habitual practice of our death, it will'also put us in mind of. the thousands of ~men hnd women who at this very moment are on the point of departing this life. We love our neighbor ~is Ourselves; we are interested in the well-beingof our fellow creatures and cannot help won-dering whether they. are prepared, or unprepared, to face their eternal du~dge. The. question is one of keen anxiety to us, because we see in them potential fellow citizens of the h'eavenly Jerusalem: because their eternal sal.vation, is at stake; because, finally, so far as they are concerned, our Lord's redemptive work is now rendered either wholly nugato,ry or eminently useful. And so, if we live in this supernatural ,atmosphere, we shall be desirous of praying frequently for the dying; and what more natural aspiration could we find for this purpose than our familiar Ai~t:er a nobis? It s~ems so Chkistian to pray for the dying! Many of them have not had our opportunities for keeping the com-mandments; many of them were in their ~arliest years throwni.nto the, whirlpool of life frith its myriad tempta-tions; many of them have, for one reason or another, been strangers to the sacramental facjlitie~ of the Church. And yet, whatever their s/ate of soul may be, here d~ey are, at this. moment, when a final decision must be made! Let us 314 . " September, 1945 ' ;'AUFER A NOBIS" hasten to their assistance by accustoming ourselves tO include them in our Actfer a rlobis. We need not know their names, or who and wherethey happen to be at the moment. Neither niational nor any othe'r accidental boundaries, can separate us from them. Our ability to help them is bounded' only by God'S "goodness, and that. is boundless. Nor .will bur charity be a loss toourselves. A supernatural ac.t, no mattei how good it is in itself, is made still lfietter by an additional touch of charity. As we includ~ the dying in our Actfer a: r~obis, so there are other devou~ souls that will include us in tl'ieirs~ Indeed, even were Fhey to forget to give us the benefit of their intercession~ the Lord will cer-tainly not forget the helping hand We have ~o often reached out to the. dying. It .is quite clear, then, that the Aufer a. rlobis, if once discovered and eagerly mined for its precious ore, holds rich possibilities for the spiritual prospector. Le~ me call atten-tion to one more such.possibility.~ In religious communi-. ties the' custom prevails at stated times of visiting¯ the Bles-sed Sacrament in a body, or privately according to one's devotion. In some houses the domestic chapel: is reached only by a. long hall or passage, and the purpose of this ~wise arrangement is to allow the religious sufficient time for col-lecting their thougbts[ Now, a ~hapel in which the Blessed Sacrament is kept is as truly a holy of holies 'as h~aven i~tself, and it is obvious that the recital of the Aufer a t~obis on theway to it is a very appropriate means of insuring .the needed recollection. In fact, it is a fitting prelude to any prayer, 'whether said inchapel or in one's private room. ¯ In prayer we stand befor+ the Divine Majesty; ~and sorrow for sin is an infallible key to entry into that holy of holies; as we are reminded, by another prayer in the Ordinary of the Mass: "In humble frame of mind and with heartfelt 9rief [or sin, we beg, O Lord, to be received b~t Thee: may our 315 JAMES A. KLEIST Revie~ for Reli~liOuz sacr.ifice.be so offered in~ Thy sight this day as to be pleasing t0 ~Fhee, O Lord Goal." Tho~ei:who are acquainted .with the Spirituai Exercises of St. Ignatiuswill.remembe,r how he insist.s that, beforewe begin to. pray, we should pause a while andreflect ~hebe We are gOing.and for what purpose. "Before prayer," says the Scripture, "prepare thy soul." And here, too, as .I said above, it iswell to lay stress on the plural number. At the same time With ourselves there are countless souls all over the world a, bout to betake themselves to prayer. A heart-felt~ Aufera nobis Will bind us into one solid body. of .wor- Shippers who come before God, not relying .so mu~h on our own merits as on the combined cry for mercy that rises from the lips and hearts of all God's children. As members of the'Church we are never alone, never wrapt, up in our own concerris and miseries: we are always acting as a powerful group made confident by the support of theintercession and merits-of the saints both on earth and in heaven. The pray-ers of one benefit all those that are united by bonds stronger than those of flesh and blood or other purely accidental cir, cumstances, ~ But enough. -By singling out the Autier a° nobis I merely intended to show what a rich treasuie the missal holds for all who. wish to profit by. it for their own spiritual advancement. It would be easy to multiply illustrations. ~'Seek, and you shall tinft."' . A certain holy ingenuity will supply anyone with a great number Of brief prayersi0r ejaculations from the missal for almost any circumstance in life. Ejaculatory prayer, by the way, is a veritable neces-sity in our busy life. How else can the fire of the ~morning meditation be Sustained throughout the busy hours of the "day? Besides, one may not always command.a somewhat ex~ended sfretch of time for formal praye~;but no one is too busy at any time to raise his heart to God by a swift arid 316 ,~epternber, 1945 "'AUFER A NOBIS'" heartfelt aspiration. And one of the most .suited to our circumstances is, surely, the Aufera nobis; for, if the Church's practice is a safe and sure norm, it is clear that the removal of sin from the soul is one of the best approaches to the holy of holies, that "throne of grace" (Hebrews 4:16) w, here we may "obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need." The reader of this brief exhortation to use the missal as a quarry for private prayer is, of course, aware that, in dealing with the Aufera r~obis, Lhave made free use of what biblical scholar~ call "the accommodated sense." No one acquainted with the missal will find anything ~trange°in this: for, as a matter of fact, the Church herself takes ample liberties with Scripture texts in composing the formularies for the various Masses throughout the year. Words found in the Scripture~ in their literal sense hre freely wrested by her from the original context and applied to the varying needs of the ecclesiastical calendar. The Aut:er a nobis has a definite place and purpose in the Mass; but we are allowed to use the same words in any sense that they may bear in the special circumstances of life in which we may find'ourselves. The missal is the Church's official prayerbook. n.ot every one of us follow the ~xample of the Church and make it his favorite prayerbook forall his private needs? OUR CONTRIBUTORS F.~ANCIS B. I~ONNELLY is. Professor of Canon Law at the Seminary of the Immaculate Conception, Huntington, Long Island, New York, and Defender of the gond in.the Tribunal of the Diocese of Brooklyn. JAMES A. KLEIST is Professor of Classical Languages at St. Louis University and Editor of The Classical Bulletin. The remaining'four contributors to this issue are members of the Theological Fac- "ulty at St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas: CLARENCE MCAULIFFE and AUGUSTINE KLAAS are Professors of Sacramental Th, eology; LEO A. CORESSEL and CYRIL VOLLERT, of Dogmatic Theology. 317 The Con!:ribu!:ion ot: Religious t:o Ca!:holic Ad:ion Francis B. Donnelly ALETTER addressed in 1936 by the then Secretary of State, Cardinal Pacelli (now of course our present Holy Father), to the Superior Generals of all reli-gious communities throughout the world has never received in this countr3i the'attention and the ready compliance that it certainly deserved. Its publication in this issue (pp. 326- 328) will ~erve, therefore, to acquaint our American reli-gious with its contents and to inspire them to respond to the appeal it makes to them. For a careful reading of the letter will convince all religious, and especially teaching religious, that the promotion of Catholic Action is their concern and their responsibility, a duty we may presume they would not wish to ignore or to evade. Two earlier articles in the REVIEW [:OR RELIGIOUS treated of certain practical directions for Catholic Action; they told bow an apostolic program might be carried out.1 This article has a more fundamen.tal purpose (only touched upon in the earlier articles) : to convince all religious, par-ticularly those engaged in teaching, that their active col-laboration with CatholicAction is not only desirable, but demanded. This will be established.by analyzing the con-tents of the above letter, bringing out its full. implications. and adding some further details from other official pro-nouncements on the Subject. Why All Religious Should Assist Having placed great confidence in Catholic Action as an 1Cell Technique of Catholic Action by Albert S. Foley. "S.J. (May 15, 1943: pp. 164-175); Leadership in Cathol& Action by Youree Watson, S.J. (S~ptembCr 15, 1943: pp. 312-326). 318 THE CONTRIBUTION OF RELIGIOUS TO CATHOLIC ACTION effective means of restoring all things in Christ, the Pope has had these hopes justified by the reports .of its progress and success. He knows that religious contributed much to. this advance. And .being. desirous"that the movement of Catholic Action ~hould .spread an'd develop everywhere, he now seeks the cooperation, of alt religious throughout the entire world. The papal idea of Catholic Action has proved workable and practical; it has stood the test of experience. Now let it be taken up everywhere--with the valuable help of religious. Responsibility 6~: Superiors Since religious have henceforth a new dut~r to discharge, they must be instructed in its requirements. This calls for special courses of study, at least-to the degree that would prepare religious t6 iinspire and even train the faithful for the apostolate of Catholic Action. Thei~ will be reason and opportunity, we might add, to impart a more intensive knowledge of its principles to young religious at the time they are being trained for their future work. Cardinal Lepicier/as Prefect of the Congregation for' Religious (in a letter of June 27, 1930 regarding the assistance to b~ given Catholic Action by Italian religious), directed that al! teaching religious shoflld be instructed in the nature. statutes, and regulations of Catholic Action, and that in addition a limited number should be given a more specia!- ized training, but entirely in keeping with their calling as educators of Catholic youth. This is a program that all Communities might well follow. Superiors may also cooperate With Catholic Action by aiding it to give the necessary formation to its members. Cardinal Lepicier, in the letter referred to, thanked Italian religious for opening their houses to Catholic Action mem-bers for days of study, for retreats, and for other exercises. 3 19 FRANCIS B. DONNELLY Review for Religious Such evidence of interest and charity is particularly desirable in the pioneer days of a Catholic Action movement, since its organization will at that time lack facilities of its own. Of course, this kindness Will entail certain inconveniences for religious, but it is by such sacrifices that the body of Christ will increase (1 Cot. XII: 17-26). Preachers and Retreat-Masters One specific way in which religious priests may pro.- mote the lay apostolate is through their' preaching-- awakening the faithful to their responsibility for the salva-tion of sbuls and helping them to prepare for the aposto-late. But it will be in their conferences and retreats to the diocesan clergy that religious preachers will be able to do most for the cause of CatholicAction. Having become fully acquainted themselves with its aims and principles, they will be in a position to speak on the subject knowingly and authorit~atively. It will be their duty to set forth clearly the grave obligation incur~bent upon the clergy to foster Catholic Action as one of the their main pastoral duties. Certainly we can expect that, on the occasion of a ,retreat or day of recollection, diocesan priests can be stirred most effectively to a greater willingness to respond to the urgent ~all of the Popes, to clear their minds of prejudice and misunderstanding about the subject, and to use every means possible to seek and to train auxiliary apostles whose burning .desire is to bring Christ into their world. Invaluable Aid o[ Teaching Religious Religious will aid Catholic Action best by educating youth for it and in it. There is no more fertile soil than youth in which to sow the seed of apostolic action. Reli-gious are the educators 6[ Catholic youth, at least as far as formal education is concerned. And Plus XI, repeatedly, insisted that formation in the apostolic spirit (a specific 320 September, 194~ THE CONTRIBUTIOI~ OF RELIGIOUS TO CATHOLIC ACTION objective of Catholic A~tion) is an essential part .of educa-tion in'our day, a complement of formal education. That means it must not be left out of the modern program of Catholic education. Preparation for the Future And why is it so important? First, because itl gives greater assurance that the° students trained for the aposto-late will begin, immediately, to live a truly .Christian life. a life of real devotion. For to try to conquer others for- Christ is the strongest stimulus to conquer oneself. Religion in life becomes a matter of intense conviction. The student makes his daily life an actual test in Christian living, with-out direct dependence upon the authority of the school and its teachers. He learns to stand on his own feet as a ChriS tian and to influence tl~ose around hi~. Are not all the labors and sacrifices of Christian education meant to achieve just that? Besides, this apostolic training is the greatest gift reli-gious can bestow upon their pupils. What can surpass the privilege of becoming intimately associated with the ,priestly ~ipostolate, sharing in the' great good it does for mankind? In the mind of the Holy Father such collabora-tion is a special grace. He has not hesitated even, on another occasion, to dignify the official call to Catholic: Action as a true vocation inspired by a singular divine grace. Is it not a blessir~g for a'religious to be allowed to sow the. se~d of that vocation? The wise educator, whose vision extends beyond syllabus and examinations, will not b~ unmindful of this. He will se~ Catholic Action as a w, ay to develop a Christian conscience in youth, to awaken .a generosity that too often lies dormant. He will envision: the in,caluable aid that the Church will receive in the future, the great increase of laborers in the vineyard. He will know ~321 FRANCIS B. DONNELLY Reoieto [or Religious that the school is fulfilling its mission. In a word, prepara-tion for life as a Christian calls for training in Catholic Action. For to be a Christian now, one must.be an apostle. TheGood or: the School Itself But the educator need not judge the matter merely from the viewpoint of the individual student and his future. Let him see it from the pbint of view of the school, whose interests are his primary concern. Will not every educat6r who is honest with himself admit that his influence .upon students is limited: by his own shbrtcomings; by the frictions of everyday contact; above all, by the barrier that many students, particu!arly 'those whose need is greatest. set up between themselves and even the most understanding of their teachers? .Is not, l~herefore, an added influence necessary inevery school--the influence of students upon one another? Such influence will be exerted, no matter what the teachers say or do. Ought it not be channeled arid made to serve the cause of Christ? .Cardinal Pacelli's letter, therefore, goes on to say that the. apostolic training given to students who are well-disposed will redound to the benefit of the entire student-body. There will be the force of concerted good example. Added to this will be the deliberate, planned effort by the "student apostles to win over (l'azione conquistratrice are the words used in the letter) the lukewarm among their-daily companions. This itself will provide a rich experi-ence in the apostolate, with the r~sult that school life wil! become a real preparation for work in Catholic Action during ?vacations or after graduation. It is training such as this that .will later enable students to withstandthe many formidable evils of modern life, to which all too often graduates of Catholic schools have succumbed, to the great sorrow of their former teacher~. Having been taught to 322 ~epteraber, 1945 THE CONTRIBUTION OF: RELIGIOUS TO CATHOLIC ACTION view life critically, to see. its defects, to rise above the level of accepted standards, students schooled in the apostolate will not later lack the courage to be light to the world and salt to the earth. They are not apt to disgrace the school and its teachers. Practical Measures Th~ above considerations should lead to definite results. The first of these is the establishment of Catholic' Action group.s within the school, "internal associations," as they are called in the letter. A new activity with its own special objective necessitates a distinct organization,, and this,, the letter points out, has alr~'ady been recognized in a number of schools. Pius XI on several occasions urged such a step, not only in universities and public schools, but in every secondary school and house of education (letter to the Hierarchy of Colombia, February 14, 1934) and even in elementary schools and academies:. "train boys and girls for it from earliest youth in their schools and academies" (letter to the. Brazilian Hierarchy, October' 27, 1935). Pius XII takes for granted that Catholic Action units will be formed in educational institutions, though he rightly insists they enter the schooi with due discretion and reserve, seeking only to give greater impetus to the apostolic life of the school (address to Italian Catholic Action-, September 4, 1940). In view of these various pronouncements, there can be little doubt but that the Holy See desires real, active Catholic Action groups in all Catholic schools.2 There is also need of coordinating this new work with the religious activities already being carried on in. the school. Pious societies already established are not.be displaced or de-emphasized, but rather to continue and to grow in °The £rticles already dited providevaluable suggestions for starting this activity. A recent publication will also prove very helpful: Geissler, Traininq of Laq Leaders (The Apostolate Press, South Bend, Ind.). 323 FRANCIS B. DONNELLY Revietv for Religious accord with their specific purpose.However, as otga~niza-tions~ they are not to stand apart from Catholic Action. They~ must openly and generousl~ assist its apostolate: by prayer, by emphasizing its importance, and even. by encour-aging their own' members to become part of it. Alumni groups, particularly, should put' themselves at the° service of Catholic Action and come under its influence. It will do much to keep alive in them the lessons of a Christian education., ,Spiritual Backing .of All Religious Every vital activity within the Mystical Body, eizen that of private prayer, adds strength to the whole Body. For this reason each religious can, promote th~ cause of Catholic Action immeasurably by his own con.stant prayer and by inducing all underhis care or influence ~o pray for its success. By the power of prayer every member of the Church, each in his own place and in conformity with-his vocation, can participate in the great campaign to.restore all things, all of life, in Christ. Even contemplative religious (as Cardinal Lepicier observed in his letter) should offer their prayers and their sacrifices for this all-important work. Fruits of Collaboration bg Religious By aiding Catholic Action, which is so dear to the. heart Of the Pope, religious will once again l~ave proved .their loyalty to Christ's Vicar, answering his urgent call, as they have so often done in the past, promptly and generously. And this time they will respond at an hour that is critical for mankind and.especially for youth. By their collabora-tion they will give evidence of the expanse of their charity for Christ and souls, uniting in complete solidarity with the diocesan clergy to spread the Kingdom of Christ. A whole new field is thereby opened to the zeal and generosity of religious. 324 September, 1945 THE CONTRIBUTION OF RELIGIOUS TO CATHOLIC ACTION But, as is true of~all that is done for God and,His Church, there will be a return,.a recompense. It is good to emphasize this so as to allay any fear that encouraging the young to prepare for an apostolic life in the world might turn some from the priesthood or the religious life. Of course, anyone who really believes that the Pope e~njoys divine guidance in the government of the' Church would hardly concede that a program enjo!ned by him so repeat-edly and so vigorously could have such a deleterious effect. But it is i~evertheless reassuring for all religious to know ¯ that, instead of fearing such a consequence, they .might rather expect an increase in religious vocations. Cardinal Lepicie~r gave assurance of that: "they will obtain new vocations f.or their communities, as we have already had the pleasure of witnessing." In his encyclical on The Catholic "Priesthood, Pius XI himself testified to the benefits that Catholic Action would confer upon the priesthood and the religious life. On ~the one hand, Catholic Action would promote vocations to the priesthood as one of its primary duties. On the other hand, as a reward for these efforts, Gbd Would "prepare and ~all very many from [its] youth groups for both clergies [diocesan and religious]. This is added evidence that Catholic Action can rightly .be com-pared to a fertile soil in which every kind of virtue can be found, or better still to a well-sheltered and cared fornur-sery where even the more fragrant and delicate flowers bloom free from all danger." Suggested Course of Studtl The following.is offered as a plan of study in colleges, normal schools, or summer schools for religious to educate them in the func-tion and program of the lay apostolate: 1. The Need for Catholic Action: to solve the great problem of our day--~secularization; Christ is dethroned in His world; He is, losing it! A review of the evils condemned°by the Popes in their 325 DECISIONS OF THE HOLY SEE . Re~2iew for Religious ~ncyclicals and other messages, 'v.g., oil Christian Marriage, Christian Education, Reconstructing the Social Order (Quadragesimo Anno)~ Atheistic Communism, Motion Pictures, Present ~7orld Order (Summi Pontificatus), letter to the American Hierabchy (Sertum Laetitiae). Modern youth problems. 2. The Plan of Catholic Action: theory and guiding principle.s. The necessary material may be gathered from: Directibes/:or Catholic Ac-tion (Centra,1 Bureau Press, St. Louis); What Does the Pope Sa~l About Catholic Action (Pellegrini, Sydney, Australia) : Con/:erences on Catholic Action, Introduction to Catholic Action (both N.C. W.C. publications); Civardi, Manual o/: Catholic Action; Lelotte, Fundamental Principles of Catholic Action (Fides, Montreal). 3. Catholic Action Methods: .specialization in approach; successffil techniques; relationship of priests and religi.o.us with Catholic action; inculcation of the apostolic spirit. The following publications will provide information; Geissler, Training of Lay Leaders; Roy, The docist Movement (JOC, Manchester, N. H.) ; The Young Christian Workers (Burns Oates). Further help can be derived from contact-with the YCS at Notre Dame: YCW groups in Chicago, Rochester, San Francisco, New York, Montreal; The Grail (Loveland, Ohio). Decisions o[ I-toly See sent by the Cardinal Secretary of State to the Superiors of all Religious Communities Well known to Your Reverence are tl~e lively hopes which the Holy Father places in Catholic Action as a means to'the Christian restoration of society and the great comfort afforded him. by the news coming, even from missionary lands, as to its continued growth and the inestimable benefits which the Lord produces by means of it~ A cause of special consolation has been the generc;us spirit with which certain Orders and Religious Congregations, both of men and women, have put their members at the'service of Catholic Action, who by writing, speaking, and active assistance have helped its growth and assured its success. The August Pontiff himself has had to 326 September, 1945 DECISIONS OF THE HOLY SIEE express his approval and satisfaction on .many occasions; and, in a letter to the Bishops of Brazil last October, he even voiced the hope that the help given by religious communities "w~uld be greater and more extensive than that 6f any other." . This will certainly be so if, as urged 'in that important document; special courses of study are instituted to prepare religious for thes~ new tasks in order that by .theirt preaching and manifold works of zeal the faithful may be inspired, and trained for the apostolate of Catholic Action. Since bne of the outstanding cofitributions of reli-gious is their preaching to the clergy especially during retreats, it is to be expected that, being thus better prepared, they will be able to inculL care expertly and authoritatively together with" the discharge of other priestly obligations the duty of Catholic Action--a.duty that the Holy Father, as early as his first encyclical, has declared to be "among th~ principal responsibilities of a pastor of souls." But assuredly no less valuable will be the help given by religious (under the the most favorable condition~) in the education of youth, which is for the most part under their direction. The" August Pontiff has insistently declared on various occasions that training in the apostolic spirit (the specific function of Catholic Action) is an essential element of education in these modern times, a strong safeguard of the Christian life; that moreover it is a special grace to be called .to an apostolate so closely associated with that of - the priesthood. A wise educator cannot forget:that; otherwise he would be limiting the horizons of good that should be opening before the generous souls of youth, he would be depriving the Church of precious auxiliaries, and he would scarcely attain all the purposes c~f a truly Christian education. On the other hand, this tr~iining contributes to the improvement of the school itself. No one can deny the incalculable good that will come from the mutual good example of students, from the activity of winning over more careless students, from the effort to transform the every-day life of. the school into a more active preparation for the work that the students will undertake in Catholic Action organiza-tions during vacation or after graduation. Thus they will be found much better equipped to overcome the many grave dangers ~of modern social life, to which, as is well known, youth educated in a Catholic school have often been victims. For these very weighty reasons the Holy Father has in the pas~t recommended the establishment of Internal Associations, such as are 327 DECISIONS OF THE HOLY SEE ReVieW [or Religious happily flourishing in a ~umber of institutions, and also that the .pious societies already under the care of religious be stimulated "to offer to Catholic Action their, providential, assistance: by prayer, by making known the excellence, the" necessity, the advantages of Cath-olic Action, by exhorting and guiding their own members to it. This is especially desirable for organizations and societies that unite young people for the purpose of preserving the fruits of a Christian educa-tion.'" (Letter of His Eminence, Cardinal Pacelli, Secretary of State to His Holiness, addressed to Commendatore Augusto Ciriaci, Presi-dent of, Italian Catholic Action, March 30th, 1930). If, then, good religious not only will' endeavor to direct their own prayer to this great objective, but strive also to persuade and induce those under their spiritual care to pray for Catholic Action and enroll in it, then indeed their cooperation will be complete, and copious blessings Will redound to Catholic Action and in fact to the whole Church. By conforming to these directions, [eligious will continue their glorious tradition of a generous readiness to respohd t.o the needs of souls and to the wishes of the Vicar of Christ at a time so hazardous for youth, beset as it is by many enemies, ~specially that of Communist propagand'a. It will be an~ act of unexcelled charity to coilaborate in'complete solidarity with the sec6lar clergy }or the spread of the Kingdom of Christ, which is the constant aspiration of the August Pontiff. With the certainty that this rich promise of good will become a cdnsoling reality, ~the Holy Father imparts to all superiors and mem-- bers.of this religious coinmunity the Apostolic Blessing as an expres-sion of his gratitude and as a pledge of heavenly graces. Meanwhile, on my part, I add my best wishes for the happy out-come of this desired collaboration in such a h61y work, taking this ~ccasion to express my sentiments of special regard. March 15th, 1936. Most devotedly in the Lord, E. Card. Pacelli. 328 The Indwelling ot: !:he l-loly Spirit: Leo A. Coressel, S.J. WE RELIGIOUS are hardly as ill-inst~ructed as were certain Ephesians of St. Paul's day. Whenasked by the Apostle if they had received the Holy Spirit, they answered: "We have not so much as beard whether there be a Holy Ghost" (Acts of ~the Apostles 19:2). But it is to be feared that the indwelling of tile Holy Spirit is not realized and appreciated as it ought to be. Thi~ is one of the most inspiring truths of our faith. Yet We lose sight, of it in our busy and active lives. Our awareness of it almost reaches the vanishing point so that in actual practice, if riot in knowledge, we are not too far from the ignorance dis-played by the men of Athens: "But Paul standing'in the midst of the Areopagus, said: Ye men of Athens, I perceive that in/ill things you are too superstitious. For passing by, and seeing your idol~, I found an althr also, on which was written: To the unknown God. What therefore you wor-ship, without knowing it, I preach to you." (Acts of the Apostles 17:22-24.) . Is the Holy Spirit dwelling within us, in %ur very souls, an Unknown God? This article proposes to set down a few fundamental considerations on this sublime truth. It hopes to bring into clearer focus a truth that can be a help to our recollection, an encouragement to our work, a con-solation in time of need. The Holy Spirit does aktually dwell in the souls of those who are in thestate of grace. Of this there can be no doubt. The revealed word of God is I~oo plentiful and too forceful .to call this truth into question. To quote only a 329 LEO A. CORESSEL Review [or Religious few striking passages from Sacred Scripture: "Or know you not, that your members are the temple of the Holy Ghost, who is in you, whom you have from God; and you are not your own?" (1 Corinthians 6:19). And.again: "Know you not, that you are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you?" (1 Corinthians 3:16). We have just heard that the Holy Spirit is not merely in us, but that He dwells in us. The reason of this is tha.t dwelling in a place is quite distinct from being there. He who dwells in a house is said to have his treasure there, a fact that is not at all true~ of one whomerely is in a house. The treasu/e of the Holy Spirit is the gifts of grace, which He has lavisl~ed on us in preparing a worthy habitation for Himself. By His gifts of grace, He expelled the darkness of sin and regenerated us unto God so that we share the divine nature, are adopted sons and heirs of eternal life, His friends, an~t bretl~ren of the Incarnate Word. We are also said to be temples of the Holy Spirit. This is so because he in whom the Holy Spirit dwells is holy ~'nd consecrated to. the pra.ise, glory, and service of God in the same manner as a temple is a holy place, consecrated to God and His pbaises. In thi~ connection, .St. Paul says: "Bui you are not in the flesh, but in the spit!t, if so be that the Spirit of God dwells in you" '(Roma.ns 8:9). We must now try to come to some und, erstanding of the indwelling. A beginning can be made by.setting down what it is not. 'The indwelling is not a m~re psychological presence of God induced by a spirit of recollection and prayer. This latter is enjoyed by those who .are conscious that God is present to them in their prayers and w~rks; that He hears them and speaks to them; that He is ur~ited to them;, that they, on their part, act under the influence of H~.s presence. Such a presence of God, though excellent and praiseworthy and generally attained only after long and 330 ~epternber, 1945 THE INDWELLING OF THE HOLY SPIRIT arduous practice, is not ~:he indwelling of which we are speaking. This indwelling is the actual, personal, sub-stantial presence of the Holy Spirit in the soul. Th~ indwelling must also be distinguished.'from Godls natural presence in every creature. That there is such a divine omnipresence is eloquently told us by the Psalmist:' "Whither shall I go from thy spirit? or whither shall I flee from thySac~e? If I ascend into heaven, thou art there: if I descend into hell, thou art present.- If I take .wings early in the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea: Even there also shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me." (Psalm 138:7-10.) God is everywhere and in, everything. He is present in every creature: in the mountains, in the sea, in land and air: in plants, in animals~ in man, in angels. He is in sinriers, in the murderer,, and in the thief. He is in the pagan. "In Him we live and move and are," as St. Paul told the Athenians (Acts of the Apostles 17:28). This is a natural presence of God which is proper to Him by reason of His attribute of immensity. As distinguished from this natural presence, the in-dwe. lling of the Holy Spirit is a supernatural presence. It is had only in the souls of the just. It is a presence in a new If we now e~plore this "presence in a new way," new vistas of [hought will unfold themselves that will an~ply repay our efforts.' The task is. not too difficult. It can be reduced to a search for an answer to a single question: How, is the new way different from and superior to God's natural presence? In venturing onthis s.tudy, we can take no safer guide than the encyclical letter of Pope Leo XIII on the H01y Spirit. From this document much enlightenment and solid doctrine can be drawn. After speaking of God's natural presence in all things, 33l for Rdi~iot~s ¯ the Pope' proceeds to the indwelling of the Holy Spirit, We quote the very words of the encyclical letter: "Moreover God by grace resides in the.just soul as in a temple, in a 'most intimate and peculiar manner. From this proceeds that union of affection by which th%soul adh~eres most closely to God, more so than the friend is united to hismost loving and beloved friend, and enjoys God in all fulness and" sweetness." " From these words it is clear that the indwelling of the Holy Spirit means an intimate and special presence. The Holy Spirit and man are united more closely than friend with most cherished friend. Now such a presence is entirely different in manner fr6m the natural presence of God. In this latter presence God and man.are as two strangers.seated side by side in a trolley-bus. Thereis mutu~il presence but nothing more. There is no friendship linking the two together. ° But,you will ask, how can there be friendship between God and man.? Does not true friendship with another imply a certain equality with him? Man is a creature:, God is his. supreme Lord and Master: Man is finite and sinful; God is infinite and all-holy. Certainly there is not the slightest vestige of. equality between God and man~in the order of nature. Hence there is no friendship with God in His natural .presence. But by sanctifying grace man ,is raised to a certain share of divine nature. In this share there are sufficient .grounds for establishing friendship between God and man, It is for this reason that the Holy Spirit and man can be as:. friend with friend. Thus far the encyclical has told us of an indwelling of the H01y Spirit which is very different from God's natural presence. It now introduces us to a consideration that will require our closest attention. It says in part that the won-derfuI union of man with the Holy Spirit differs "only in 332 September, 1945 THE INDWELLING OF THE HOllY SPIRIT degree or state from that with which God beatifies the saints in heaven." To grasp this :sbe.ming!y bold statement, we must understand that the gifts of grace of this llfe are already the beginnings and the first-fruits of the glory to come~ We have this from Sacred Scripture itself. In St. Paul's Epistle~ to the Ephesians, it is stated their the Hol~r Spirit "is the pledge of our inheritance, unto the redemption of acquisition, unto the praise of his glory" (1:1'[). The word "pledge" should not be taken in the sense in which it is used in community orCatholic.drives for mgney. In the latter case it signifies a signed staterfient certifying the promise of financial assistance within a certain length of ¯ time. Nor dOeS the word mean an ordinary I 0 U, which is returned when cash payment is made. Rather it is to be understood as a sum of money which, is a first installment, an earnest of full payment to be made at some future time. Now the Holy Spirit, who is given ,in-this life, is not a pledg~ ~to be exchanged for something else. He is the ear-nest, thefirst installment, already given in anticipation of the final and complete blessedness that has been promised and preioared for us. A ~ognate idea is contained in the Epistle to the Ro-mans: "And not only it [irrational nature], but ourselves also,who have the~ first-fruits of the Spirit, ~ven we our-selves groan within ourselves" (8:23). In his classic work on grace, Fr. Lange.comments on these words of St. Paul as follows: First-fruits in general are the first produce of a field which is offered to God so that the entire crop. may be consecrated to Him. As used by the Apostle of the~Gen-- tiles; first-fruits are to be understood either as ~he first-fruits of the .gifts of the Spirit.given in this life, the remainder of which are to be given in the next, or as the first-fruits whicl~ is the Holy Spirit Himself, who is how given to us as an earnest of the fulness of what is to come. In either case some 333 LEO A. CORESSEL Review for Religiou.~ beginning is signified which already cbntains and represents that which follows. This summary study o~ two scriptural citations should throw into clearer light the words of the encyclical already observed. There, it will be recalled, the Holy Father stated that the vionderful union of man with the Holy Spirit-differs only in degree or state from that with which God beatifies the saints in heaven. That is to say: the same God is possessed" and enjoyed both by the blessed in heaven and by us wayfarers on .earth. But this possession and . enjoyme.nt is bad by each in a different degree. By the bles-sed. in heaven it is had in the beatific vision: by the just on earth, through faith and,the love of friendship. Although this difference separates heaven from ear'h, it willnot seem too great if we bear in mind that the love of friendship by which we are united to God on earth is the very same kind a~ that enjoyed by the blessed°in heaven. Of course, it will :be ~ncreased immeasurably i.n heaven, where the limitations of faith no longer act as a drag on the fervor of love. Yet Withal, the love of vision and of faith are essentially the same. The difference is not one of kind but of intensity. Such in brief are a few fundamental considerations on the indwelling of the Holy Spirit.He is not merely present to the jUSt so'u1. He actually dwells therein as in a temple. He and man are not as strangebs, but united by the bondsof friendship. By reason of the indwelling, man already pos-sesses the beginnings of the final, and complete, blessedness that God has prepared for those who remain faithful to Him until the end. These elements of the indwelling are the minimum essentials, as it were, common to all who are .in the state of grace, and without which there is no ,in-dwelling. To what extent additional elements enter into the indwelling, is a matter on which theologians are not in agreement. But there can be no doubt that the union of 334 September, 1945 THE INDWELLING OF THE HOLY SPIRIT the soul with the Holy Spirit is intensified according to the measure of spiritual progress: It remains for us now to indicate the activity of the Hol,y Spirit in our souls, and our own response to it. In doing so we shall make abundant use of the stirring thoughts proposed in'the encyclical letter. The Holy Spirit is supremely active in the s~)ul in which He dwells. This will .not be surprising in view of His personal character,as, Subsistent Love. Now 'love, if it. is true love, is active. It expresses itself in giving. For this reason a great outpouring of divine.gifts is a conse-quence of the indwelling. "Among these gifts are those secret warn.ings and invitations, which from time to time .are excited in our minds and hearts by the inspirations of the Holy Spirit. Without these there is no beginning of a good life, no progress, no arriving at .eternal salvation." These words should be tremendously significant to us. If we wish to make progress in our spiritual lives, if" we wish to attain eternal life itself, we stand in need of the good offices of our ,Divine Guest. N~t only does the Holy Spirit invite and inspire us to good, He also endows us with gifts which are in a special way attributed to Him and are called the oilers of the Holy Spirit. These gifts strengthen the soul so that it is able to obey the divine voice and .impulse more easily and promptly. ,They are so excellent that they can lead men to the highest sanctity. They encourage us to seek after and attain the evangelical Beatitudes. Christ calls those blessed who prac-tise virtue in the more excellent way of the Beatitudes: "Blessed are the poor.in spirit" for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are the meek . Blessed are they their mourn . " (Matthew 5:3-10.) They who live 'the Beatitudes have attained the heights of spiritual activity, ~vhich not only indicates giant strides toward~ eternal LEO A. CORESSEL beatitude, but which also is, even in this life, a foretaste of the same. Lastly, under the influehce of the gifts, we can attain the fruits of the Holy Spirit. Twelve such are enumerated by St. Paul: "But the fruit of the Spirit is, charity, joy, peace, patience, benignity, goodness, longa: nimity, mildness, faith, modesty, continency, chastity'" (Galatians 5:22-23). The fruits are those acts of virtue which fill the soul with joy by reason of the relish and per-fection with which they are performed. Truly, the Holy Spirit pours out lavishly of His graces -and giftS. His is a divine activity surpassed only by Him-self as the first Gift to us. In view of all this, our personal respon.se cannot fall short .of very great love of Hi/n, of fervent prayer to and confident invocation of" Him. We should love Him because He is God. We should love Him "because He is the substantial, etern~l, primal Love, and nothing is more lovable than love." This love_will, in turn, incite us to acquire a fuller knowledge of the Holy Spirit.°.For, as St. Thomas says, the lover is not content With a superficia~ knowledge of the beloved, but strives to inquire intimately into all that pertains to the beloved and thus to penetra'ie into the iriterior; as is said of the Holy Spirit,' who is the Love Of God, that He searches even the profound things of God.1 We should pray to andinvoke.the Holy gpirit. We stand in need of light to supply our deficiencies of heavenly wisdom. Our strength too frequently is overcome by weakness.Consolations are needed to buoy us up in time df trouble. We must strive for holiness, yet we are ever prone to sin. In the Holy Spirit we can find an ever-fl.owing f6unt ,oi~ light, strength, consolation, and holiness, for He is the pledge of our inheritance. He is our divine, indwelling Guest. He is God, . 1Surama Tl~eologica 1-II, q. 28, a. 2. 336 We Died wit:h Christ: Cyril Volle.rt, S.J: EVERY Catholic knows that Jesus Christ died on the cross to redeem mankind. ¯ . The fact itself is incontestable: ~he Son 'of God, made man, actually did offer His life for our salvation. By 'His death He freed us from the tyranny of sin, restored us to the state of God's children, and made eternal happiness accessible .to us." But how. are we to account for this fact? A re'al diffi-culty challenges us, For, after all, He who died xvas not the sinner. How could His suffering, even though H~ is the Son of God, be profitable for us? .What is the connection between His death and our d~liverance from sin? No one need be embarrassed if he finds himself unable to supply an altogether.satisfactory answ.er to this ques, tion. "Surely," remarks the Catechism of the Council of Trent, "nothing is so far beyond the reach of human reason as the mystery of the cross." After centuries ot~ speculatioh, theology has not yet succeeded'in formulating an explana-tion of the redemption with such clarity as to be acceptable to all theologians. Many theories have been proposed. But examin~ition and study show that if any of them is pushed too far or is advocated with narr6w partisanship to the exclusion of other points of view, it will eventually lead to untenable positions or at least will neglect some aspect of reve~iled truth. Very ancient is the ransom theory, adcording.to which Christ. has purchased us or bought'us back. Obviously, there isl question here of a metaphor, but a metaphor which is thoroughly scriptural. The Son of man came '.'to give 337 CYRIL VOLLERT Reo[etu for Religious His life a redemption [ransom] for many" (Mt. 20:28). St. Paul repeats several times: ','You are bought with a great price" (I Cor. 6:20). The price in question is the blood of the Savior, as St. Peter states with emphasis: "You were not redeemed with corruptible things, as gold or silver. . but with the precious blood of Christ" (I Pet. 1" 18 f.). Similar texts conveying the notion that the Son of God has acquired or purchased us are not rare. The sacred writers refrain from urging the metaphor t6o far. The figure is useful for expressing the great truth that Christ has redeemed us in the general sense that He has~ wrought our salvation. There is no actual transfer of a price in the literal sense of the word: Price, in thiscontext, can signify only some burdensome task which the Savior has undertaken. The ransom th.eory does not advance us very far in ou'r endeavor to perceive bow the death of Christ has brought about the. remission of our sins and our resto-ration to God's favor. An explanation that has appealed to some Catholic theologians, and is .very popular among Protestant schol-firs, is the theory of penal substitution, according to Which Jesus, the innocent, underwent the punishment decreed :against us, the guilty. " The scriptural foundation for this view seems to be the touching prediction concerning the future Messias: "He was Wounded for our iniquities, He was bruised for our sins; the chastisement of, our peace was upon Him, and by His bruises we are healed" (Isaias 5.3:5). Our Savior, too, said that He had come "to give His life a redemption for many." Ifi this text the Greek preposition translated "for" means "in place .of," or "instead." But elsewhere throughout the Bible whenever the statement occurs that Christ died. t'.or us, t:or all men, ~:or sinners, and the like, the wbrd "for" invariably signifies "ir~ behalf of," or "'for our benefit." 338 Sept'~mber, 1945" WE DIED WITH CHRIST In any. case, the theory of penal Substitution, if unduly exaggerated, can easily lead toerror. One person can pay a debt for another: but an innocent person Cannot be pun-ished for a criminal Only a guilty pers.on can be truly punished. If suffering is knowingly inflicted upon an innocent man for a crime he did not commit, it is not pun-ishment but a gross violation of his rights. At the very least, the notion of substitution is deficient. It does no~ do justice to the teaching of revelation con-, ceming our redemption and require,s correctibn or comple-tion by dther ideas. A doctrine that goes far to supply the needed correction or completion is the theory of vicarious satist:action. Sin, which is a turning away from God and a violation of His honor, necessarily displeases God.° .To rid himself of sin, the sinner must retract his evil deed, and moreover,, if God chooses to insist upon justice, must offer to God a com-pensation which will please God at least as. much as the sin displeased Him. Since the sinf, ul race was unable to render such compensation, God in His love decreed that His own Son should become man and discharge man's obligation for him; and Christ didso willingly Out of obedience to His Father and love for usi The actions by which Christ redeemed us proceeded, indeed, from His human nature, His human' mind and will; .but inasmuch as that~human n'ature was truly His, the acts were performed by a divine Person, and so were infinitely pleaiing to God and abun-dantly compensated for all sin. Inthis case He who offered satisfaction is not the one who committed the sin; hence the satisfaction is vicarious. However, the critics of this doctrine point out that in the l~ist analysis atonement for an offense can be made only by the offender in person, or by someone who is so inti~ ~nately connected with the offender as to form. one moral 339 CYRIL'.VoLLERT Review for Religious persori with him. Some improvement ih the theory of vicarious sa'tisfa.ction is still possible; and many modern theologians believe theyhave found the key to the rigb~ understanding of the redemption in what they call the principle of solidarity. .For a hundred years and more solidarity, as an idea and a word, has done h~avy duty in the fields of economics, sociology, and .moral philosophy. "The notion was not new to theology; but the convenience and increas.ing popu-. larity of theword soon led to a new emphasis in specula-tions on the redemption. It is St. Paul above all who stresses the stroiig solidarity between.Christ and ourselves. He goes so far as to affirm:~ "Him; who knew no sin, He [God] hath made sin ~or us, that w.e might be made the justice of God inHim" (II Cor. 5:21) i Sin, Of course, is not ~ansferred from us to Christ. Our Lord is 'heither sin nor sinner; the very notion is abhor-rent. ~But He b~came a member of our race'and shared in our lot. ' Ou~ sin embraces Him as our head'and the r~p~re- Sentati~ve b~ore God of o'ur human nature. In the same way the justice of God is "not transferred from: Christ t6 us, liierally,'but is extended to us because of our Union with Him. The underly, iffg idea is not the substitution of one,, persoli for another, but Solidarit); between persons and their actions, ° 7Theref~re.the Apostle. could say in ~the same chapter: "If ond,died for all, then alldied."'1 The death of Christ l~ecomes our death. "We are a~sociated with Christ in'His death because we ar~ :one with Him at th~ instant H~ ~lies "for us. Here again the idea is not the substitution of.Christ for us',-but,rather our solidarity with Him. lTl3is is the proper rend.ering of the Greek, not: "then all were dead;" or "all be, came dead men," or "all 'l~ad died," as various English versions put it. Cf. Ferdi-nand Pr~at, S.vL, .The Theolofly oF St. Paul, II, 201-205. The Confraternity Version translates correctly. 340 September, 1945 WE. DIED WITH CHRIST Thus~ in the minds.of not a few modern theologians, the principle of solidarity tones down what. is extreme in other, theories, corrects what is faulty in them, and com-pletes what is deficient in them. It recognizes that each of them has elements of truth, bu't denies that any of them accounts for the whole truth. The ransom theory has points in its favor, for sin does make us debtors before God, and,we men were unable to discharge the debt. However, He who paysthe debt is one of, us, and so the human race meets its obligation through its representative. The theory of penal substitution is not without foundation, for our Savior. has indeed undergone suffering which He did not bring upon Himself. But some-thing more than simple substitution is indicated, for He who expiates our sins .by His death is our head, and hence. we, the" members, expiate in Him and through Him. The theory.of satisfaction is also correct, .but only if the idea of vicarious satisfaction is not insisted upon with narrow exclusiveness; for sin is atoned for only if the sinner has p.a, rt in the atonement. We have all died with Chri~st because He died for us all, Manifestly, we are united with the dying Christ only in the sense that He. died as our representative. But the point is that We were associated with Him at the moment He gave His life for us. The theory of redemption thus outlined is undoubtedly an advance over explana.tions which overlook or slight our solidarity with Christ. But theologians are a hardheaded lot. They are ever in quest of a more penetrating.insight into the data of revelation and are tireless in their efforts to achieve a clear statement of doctrine. Critical intellects are "not content with a mere mention and application of the "principle of solidarity.''2 Some schc~lars are not sure that :tSee especially E. Hocedez, S.3., "Nitre solidarit~ en 3.C. et en Adam," Gregori-anum, XIII (1932), 373-403. What follows in the present article draws heavily on this excellent study, which is an important contribution to the theology of the redemption. ~ 341 CYRIL VOLLERT Revietu [or Religions . solidarity is the right word, or even that solidarity i~ really a principle. At all events, they desire to know what is the ultimate basis of our association with the redeeming death of Christ. A mere natural so!idarity of race with the ¯ God-man is not enough; nor, it seems, can redemption, be explain.~d by appealing to a moral solidarity, understood in the sense of one person freely agreeing to offer compensation for others. Such bonds of union, even if taken togther, hardlylwarrant St. Paul's emphatic assertion: '.'If One died for all, then all died." A number of th~ Fathers ~f the Church concluded from. meditations on such texts tha~ some sort of identit~cation between Christ and us must, be acknowledged. St. Atha-nasius observes that we are saved by Christ because we ar~ bodily one with Him. St. Irenaeus does not hesitate to affirm: "We are reconciled with God in the Second Adam, beca~Js'e in Him we Ourselves are made obedient unto death." The teaching of tradition is well summed up in the terse ' doctrine of St. Thomas: "Head and members constit~ute, as ii Were,' on~ mystic person. And ~:hereforeChrist's sat-isfactionbdongs to all the faithful, inasmuch' as they are Hi~ members." The Angelic Doctor mentions the faithful explicitly; but since Christ has offered atonement for all men without exception, identification with the Savior in, the worl~ of satisfactionmust likewise extend to all. To get some i.dea of the nature of this identification, which'i~ so enormously advantageous for ds, we must go back to the very beginning, to God's eternal plan. and decree, whereby He chose Christ to be the head and repre-sentative of the human family.' "When the fullness of the time was come, God seht His Son. that He might redeem ¯ them whd were under-the law, that we might receive the adopiibn of sons" (Gal. 4:4 f.). By this appointment Christ was given an official position; He is the officially " 342 September, 1945 WE DIED WITH CHRIST designated¯ mediator between God and men; the ambassador. of God to us, and our representative at t~he throne of God. Because of what He is, the God-rhan is the :,Prince of the kings of the earth," th~ "King of kings, and Lord of lords." God has given Him royal power over all men that He may give eternal life to all (John 17:2). A king repre-sents his subjects. He acts in the name of all, and what he does in his official capacity avails for all. The relation between the king and his people does not result from any solidarity between them; rather, solidarity flows from the relation of subordination. More important still, Christ is the Officially consecrated Priest with the commission to represent God among men and to offer the Prayers and homage of mankind to God. "Every high priest taken from among men is ordained .for men in the things that appertain to God, that he may offer up gifts and sacrifices for.sins . Neither d0th any man take the honor to himself, but he tha~ is called by God, as Aaron was. So Christ .also did not glorify Himself, that He might be made a high priest; but He that said to.Him: Thou art My Son, this day have I begotten Thee." (Heb. 5:1-5.) By His position as King and His.consecration as Priest, Christ is juridically identified with the ~human race. There-fore the official actions of Christ, ~he representative of man-kind in His universal kingship and priesthood, are morally the actions of the entire human race. The main factor in this identification is not a" solidarity of r~ice or sympathy, . but God's appointment of Christ. Solidarity is only a preliminary condition. ~ Another point must be noted. Christ's function as representative of the race is not based merely on the juridi-cal fact that God has designated Him as our head. Christ is not just a moral mediator between God and man, but a 343 CYRIL VOLLERT Review /or Religious physical mediator, for He is both God and man. This leads to a further identification between Christ and us. Because Christ has a human nature which is His own as literitlly as.our human nature is ours, He is truly a man, and the most perfect of men. Therefore even as man He is our model, or exemplary cause. Ore: duty is to grow.up to Him, to become perfect men, unto the full measure of the stature of Christ (Eph. 4:13). God wishes us "to be made conformable to the image of His'Son" (Rom. 8:29). Thus Christ contains all humanity .as the pattern contains all the objects that are to be reproduced according to its model. Our Lord is'also the crown of all creation arid the end or final cause of all men. God's purpose is "to re-establish all things in Christ" (Eph. 1 : 10) or, more exactly, to bring, all things to a head in Him, to gather all things together in subordination to Him as head. Therefore Christ is the supreme principle of unity in the world: for the end is the unifying principle of all things that are directed to the end. His right to act for men flows from His position at thesum-mit of the race. Such reflections on the various bonds that join us.to Christ enable us to gain-some insight .into the great and mysterious truth announced by St. Paul: "Christ is all, and in all" (.C01. 3" 11). The reason for this identity is that "'{lOU are all one in Christ Jesus". (Gal. 3:28). , The perfection of Christ's human nature gives rise to. yet another striking consideration. His human soul, even during His morthl life, was blessed with the beatific vision sb that, in seeing God face to face, His mind was filled With perfect and universal knowledge. Everything that ever was, is; or will be, was known to Him. His knowledge was never dormant, but was always active; nor did He have merely an obscure and general idea of the human race as a 344 ,.q~.l~tember, 1945 WE DIED WITH CHRIST whole, but knew intimately and in detail all epochs in the world's, history, and all men, with all their actions, their words, their dispositions, and their very thoughts., We of the twentieth century were, and each one of usas a distinct person, vividly present to His intellect. Our wanderings from God were perceived by Him, and they truly grieved Him; He beheld our good ~acts, and they made Him glad; and everytl'iing we ever did or will do had its effect upon His feelings and will. In a word, all men and every moment of their .lives were joined together in His mind, His love for us corresponded to His knowledge ot~ us. He was fully aware of the love the Father had for us in sending His Son into the world for our salvation, and He ratified this decree by an act of His human will. His love went out to all men; and "He loved them unto the end." This love was not a.vague sentiment of good-will for the human race in general, but was a burning love for each one of us in particular So that each one of us can say with simple truth, as St. Paul said: "He loved me, and delivered Him-self for me." Under the relentless pressure of this bound-less love Christ cast His lot in with us, He made our cause His cause, He identified Himself with us~, and He wil(ed to sha~e with us all that He possessed. These desires were His from the first moment of the Incarnation; and there-fore from the first moment of the Incarnation His Father looked upon Him as inseparable from the human family. For, as St. Thomas remarks, love so joins those who love that they'form, morally, but a single person. A~tonishing, when we reflect upon the matter, is the closeness of our relationship to Christ. He is King and High Priest, officially designated by God to represent us, so that His acts are accounted our acts. As exemplary cause He contains us; as final cause He is the principle of unity w~hich gathers us.up in Subordination tO Him. In His hni- 345 CYRIL VOLLERT Review for Religioas versal knowledge and His ardent love He embraces us all and receives us into His mind .and heart, so that in His intention He identifies Himself with all bf us and in His love He becomes one moral person with all of us. ¯ The word solidarity can'hardly support this tremen-dous weight of meaning. We must have recourse to a stronger term. For want of a better we might, perhaps, use the expression "mystical identity." Have we at length arrived at an adequate account of our redemption by Christ? Not quite; all this is but an ele-ment of the glorious truth. Numerous and intimate as are the ties of our oneness with the God-man, the mystical ideritit~r be(ween us and Him is no more than a condition prerequisite to the act which has achieved our salvation. Sacred ScriptU~e,.as well as the whole of tradition, ascribes our redemption to the passion and the death of Christ, to the sacrifice of the cross. 'On Calvary Christ, the eternal High Priest, represented the whole of mankind. All men were distinctly present to His mind and His heart. With His knowledge and His love He identified Himself with the entire sinful race, but in a special way with penitent,huma.nity, with all those who, down the ages, Would ratify the sacrifice offered for them by their own saintly lives. The sacrificial action of the High Priest was a social action, an action performed in the name Of all. Christ united all in His intention and included-all in the homage He rendered to God. One point remains. It is a point of capital importance and brings us to the apex of our identification with the ~edeeming Christ. In all sacrifices the victim oifered repre-sents the people and symboiizes the gift of their persons to God. The victim in the sacrifice 9f the cross is the ui~spotted, holy humanity of Jesus Christ in close union with the whole human race. "Christ died once for our- 346 September, 1945 WE DIED WITH CHRIST sins, the Just for the unjust, that He might offer us to God" (I Pet. 3:18). In offering His body tobe slain, our High Priest immolated sinful mankind that was identified with Him. The homage of love and adoration and obedience He held out to God in expiation and atonement for the sins of the world was the homage of the whole human family, head and members. This is why St. Paul could say: "If One died for all, then all died." This, finally, gives us some inkling of the mystery and enables us to understand, .with~ our cloudy, human thoughts, how the death of the sinless Christ could redeem us sinners. The loving oblation of the cross pleased God" more than all the sins of all men could displease Him. The divine jus-tice Was placated. God was prepared to readmit man to His friendship and was eager to accept the children of men as His sons when, in the sacrament of regeneration, they would channel off the fruits of the sacrifice to themselves and become, living members of His only Son. As for ourselves, Christ in His piercingly clear and com-prehensive knowledge associated all our good works, our~ expiations, and our Sacrifices" with His own great act of sac-rifice. The vast Church of the faithful was gathered together in His mind from all lands and all centuries down to the end of time and was offered to God in Him, the head of the mystical body. Our own good works and atone-ments cannot, of course, in any way enhance the merito- ¯ rious and satisfactory value of the sacrifice consummated .on Ca.lvary. For our good works are the fruits of that sacri-- rice, and no effect can influence its cause. But the good that we may do durihg our lives acquires a new value from the oblation made by Christ on the cross; for since He offered to God our persons and all our good actions, which in one way or another are the fruits of the graces He merited for CYRIL VOLLERT us, these actions,share in His sacrifice and take on a sacrifi-cial character. If we so will, eyery moment of' our lives, and above all that supreme instant of our lives w.hich we call death, can be made immeasurably precious for eternity by the contact, we maintain with the sacrificial death of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. BOOKLET NOTICES San Francisco Conference and Congress. This printed record of a radio round-table discussion describes the functions of Congress with regard to treaties and inter-national agreements and tells Of the careful work done by our State Department to secure general discussion and approval of the UNRRA and ultimate ratification of its work by the United State Senate. Fathers James L. Burke, S.J.,' James D. Sulli-van, S.J., and Thomas F. Fleming, S.J., took part in the original discussion. Pub-lished by:°Institute'of Social Order, 3742 .West Pine Boulevard, St. Louis 8, Mis-souri. Price: five cents. Words of Eternal Life. Selected and compiled by Rev. A. H. Goldschmidt, P.S.M. Using Christ's words almost ex~clusively, the author sets before us the basic teachings of the Gospel. The booklet has. values for all readers: 'religious could use many of the texts gathered here as subject matter for meditation. Published by: The. Pallottine Fathers, 5424 W. Bluemound Road, Milwaukee 13, Wisconsin. Paul to the Modern. By L. F. Cervantes, S,J. Many writers and public men have come .forth with "solutions" for the world's ills. The author of this booklet, which is a reprint of a chapter from the book That You May Live, discusses and refutes the claims of Morgan, Stalin, Mrs. Sanger, and others and then presents St. Paul with the true solution--the doctrine of. the Mystical Body put into prac-tice; Written in'a vivid, imaginative style, the pamphlet reads easily and holds the attention throughout. Published by: Guild Press, 128 E. 10th Street, St. Paul 1, Minnesota. Price: teia c~nts. ' To Be or Not to Be)a dew, and dews and You. "By Rev. Arthur B." Kly-bet. C.SS.R. In interesting conversational style the author discusses the existence of God, the Resurrection of Christ, and other topics in the first of these pamphlets, and in the second, such questioias as,.Was J~sus a Jew? Why Was Jesus crucified? Did'the Jews crucify Him? Though written primarily for Jews, these paml~hlets; especially the first, should have general interest. They may be obtained from the author at 1118 North Grand Avenue, (Rock Church), St. Louis 6, Missouri.' ¯ Price: ten cents each. The drive for candidates for the religious life is the inspi'ration for The Call of Charity, by the Sisters of Charity of Leavehworth; Xavier, Kansas, and Introducing the Blessed Sacrament Fathers, by The Fathers of" the Blessed Sacrament, 184 East 76th Street, New York 21, New York. Both of these booklets make effective use of photographs to bring home the story of the life and activities of the respective congregations. They should prove valuable in arousing the interest of prospective candidates. 348, ook Reviews WEA'PONS FOR PEACE. By Thomas P. Nbill. Pp. ix -t- 234. The Bruce Publishing Company Milwaukee, 1945. $2.50. Amid all the glib talk and the weighty statements of our days r.egarding the extension of "democracy" and the working out of "democratic" government and institutions in the conquered terri-tories," it is good to be reminded of the serious implications of such moves. True democracy, if it is to deserve the name and fulfill its promise, imposes careful thought and serious duties on evei'y citizen; it therefore calls for training in correct thinking and principles, for consistent and well directed activity. Towards this end the book here under review may be taken as an introduction and text book. The work consists of four unequal parts.i In the first the prob-lem of democracy is sketched, together with its relation to peace, and then the reason indicated for the state of unrest which has distin-guished the last ~enturie's. --The second part, which makes up about a third of the whole, gives a historical survey of the state of western society since the birth of the Renaissance and describes the philosophical, sociological, economic, and religious ideas which led up to our present disturbed condition. Through the Protestant revolt, the growth of the absolute states, the "Age of Revolutions," and the class struggles of the. industrial revolution, we are brought down to the disillusionment and scepticism of our own days. For many readers this part will probably be the most instructive and interesting in the book. --The stage is now set for a study Of various, solutions of the problem of peace, First Marxism and Nazism are evaluated as systems, then the. Christian teaching as ¯ authoritatively set forth in the, variou

Issue 46.1 of the Review for Religious, January/February 1987. ; R~.\'~l~w ~oR R~.~;iotJs ( ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration wflh faculty members of St. Louis University's Department of Theological Studies. The editorial offices are located at 3601 Lindell Blvd., Room 428; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. R~.:w~.w FOR R~,~;Iou.~ is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO © 1987 by R~-:vw:w ~.'OR R~-:~.~t;n)tJs. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription: U.S.A. $11.00 a year; $20.00 for two years. Other countries: add $4.00 per year(surface mail). Airmail(Book Rate): $18.00 per 3'ear. For subscription orders or change of address, write: R~:\'~r:\v ~'t)a REl.~;IOtlS: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F.X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.SoN.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editor Jan./ Feb., 1987 Volume 46 Number I Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to Rl.:VlEW FOR R~:l,lc.mt;s: Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Richard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave., Berkeley, CA 94709. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REv~:w you R~:~,w.~ot~s: Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. A major portion of each issue is also available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. Review for Religious Volume 46, 1987 Editorial Offices 3601 Lindell Boulevard, Room 428 Saint Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Daniel F.X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editor REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is published in January, March, May, July, September, and November on the twentieth of the month. It is indexed in the Catholic' Periodical and Literature Index and in Book Review Index. A microfilm edition of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is available from University Microfilms International; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Copyright © 1987 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. A major portion of each issue of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is also regularly available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East.23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. Christ: the Heart and Soul of Vocation John R. Quinn On October 4, Feast of St. Francis of Assisi, Archbishop Quinn addressed the fol-lowing homily in the course of a Eucharist celebrated for religious of San Francisco. It provides a fitting celebration of the conclusion of his commission's work. Archbishop Quinn may be addressed at: Office of the Archbishop; 445 Church Street; San Francisco, California 94114-1799. One week from today I will arrive in Rome. A few days later I will present to the Holy Father the final report of the Pontifical Commission on religious life in the United States. One of the tasks assigned to the Pontifical Commission was to under-take a study of the reasons why young people do not enter religious life in greater numbers. It was a long and exacting study involving a large number of priests, religious and lay people. Clearly, it is excessive to believe that any one single cause can explain the phenomenon of the decline in vocations. Just as obvious is the fact that there are causes internal to the life of the Church as well as causes which touch all of human society. Yet there is one striking factor in the decline of vocations which emerged in our study and it seems to me very fitting to touch on it in the context of this Feast of St. Francis. One of the first things that comes to mind when we think of St. Francis is poverty. Poverty was to be one of the hallmarks of his sanctity. But what was the meaning of that poverty for Francis? Was it a protest against the excesses of the rich? A statement about social justice? A wit-ness of solidarity with the oppressed? There may have been some of these factors, of course. But the overwhelming and consuming reason for the poverty of 3 4/Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1987 Francis was his love for Christ Jesus our Lord. His poverty was a power-ful witness that those things I used to consider gain I have now reappraised as loss in the light of Christ. I have come to rate all as loss in the light of the surpassing knowledge of my Lord Jesus Christ. For his sake, I have for-feited everything; I have accounted all else rubbish so that Christ may be my wealth and I may be in him . I wish to know Christ and the power flowing from his resurrection; likewise to know how to share in his sufferings by being formed into the pattern of his death" (Ph 3:7- 10). For Francis, poverty was his witness to the centrality and Lordship of Christ. In our study of the decline in vocations, we did not hear much about poverty. But we did learn that if we want to attract vocations, the reli-gious dimension of our lives must be unambiguous, and that religious must be more willing to share that dimension than they have been. It is not that American religious are not contemplative and spiritual men and women. They are, and our study shows that they are increas-ingly so. Yet Americans are somewhat inclined to regard religion as a private, interior affair not to be discussed. And this is the weakness. The rich treasure of our relationship with Christ and his meaning for us has to come out more. The story needs telling. But how can we tell the story of a relationship we do not have? And so the contemplative dimension of our lives is the foundation of every-thing else. It is the contemplative dimension that makes it possible for the religious to say to Christ what the lover said in Christopher Fry's play: "Everything I loved before has come to one meeting place in you. And you have gone out into everything I love." So deep was this reality in Francis that he spent whole nights repeat-ing the simple prayer,,,"My God and my all!" When we look at the per-vasive contemplative dimension of Francis' life, it is significant to recall that there are few saints who have had a more universal impact in all cul-tures, an impact that is strong and enduring even today. We need not fear that the contemplative dimension of our lives will reduce the effectiveness of our witness for justice or our service to the world. It will only enhance it. Think of the human service given by Francis himself, but think of the tremendous inspiration he has been for justice and peace through seven centuries. That inspiration cannot be sep-arated from his holiness, and his holiness is rooted in his union with Christ. The path of discipleship is perfectly articulated in a few brief words: Christ: The Heart and Soul "Those whom he foreknew he predestined to share the image of his Son" (Rm 8:29). Francis showed that one and only path of discipleship when he grew into the mystery of the Cross. Fittingly the Church brings to mind on his feast the words, "May I never boast of anything but the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ" (Ga 6:14). Without the Cross it is impossible to "share the image of his Son" who freely chose the Cross for himself as a witness of love and obedi-ence, as a witness of poverty and humility. Without the Cross there is no discipleship. But we should not forget that without the Cross there is no vision, no understanding. The Cross is the key to understanding the Church and human history. How can one learn the difficult grammar of the Cross without years of persevering and serious prayer? Thoreau, when asked why he was living in the wilderness, answered: "I do not want to come to my death and dis-cover that I have never lived." At death we will discover we have never lived the Christian life unless we have learned through the contemplative dimension to love and understand the mystery of the Cross. But what is this Cross for us? It is not wood. It is persons, places, circumstances, situations. Just as for the Lord, so for us, the Cross is what is absurd, ridiculous, frustrating, the unexplainable. The Cross is when we are powerless: no matter what we do, it makes no difference. The Cross is pain, it is loneliness, it is lack of support. It is confusion, uncertainty. But the Cross is also death -- it is letting go. It is surrendering every-thing into the Father's hands, and knowing that he will be glorified in us and in Christ Jesus. This mystery of the Cross we suffer both in the Church and in the world. We suffer before the tensions and divisions in the Church. We suffer before the massive and overwhelming injustices in the world. But in the midst of the Church and in the midst of that world, reli-gious are called to be the bearers of hope because they have lived and understood the Mystery of the Cross, and have personally discovered that the message of the Cross is complete absurdity to those who are headed for ruin, but to us who are experiencing salvation it is the power of God . Yes, Jews demand "signs" and Greeks look for "wisdom," but we preach Christ crucified. Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God (I Co 1:18; 22-25). It is the serious, prayerful contemplation of the Mystery of the Cross that yields the kind of love which is "patient; love [which] is kind., love [which] is never rude, [which] is not self-seeking, [which] is not prone to anger" (1 Co 13). It is this contemplative dimension which makes it Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1987 possible to say that "there is no limit to love's forbearance, to its trust, its hope, its power to endure" (ibid). And so it is this contemplative dimension that imparts the vision of the Church described by Gregory the Great some thirteen centuries ago: Because the daybreak or dawn changes gradually from darkness into light, the Church. is fittingly called daybreak or dawn. While she is being led from the night of infidelity to the light of faith, she is opened gradually to the splendor of heavenly brightness, just as dawn yields to the day after darkness. The Song of Songs says aptly: "Who is she who moves forward like the advancing dawn?" Holy Church, inasmuch as she keeps searching for the rewards of eternal life, has been called the dawn . The dawn intimates that the night is over; it does not yet pro-claim the full light of day . While it dispels the darkness and wel-comes the light, it holds both of them, the one mixed with th6 other. Are not all of us who follow the truth in this life daybreak and dawn? While we dp some things which already belong to the light, we are not free from the remnants of darkness. And so to Christ Jesus, crucified in weakness but risen in power, be glory in us and in the Church now and forever. Amen. From Tablet to Heart: Internalizing New Constitutions I and I! Address: by Patricia Spillane, M.S.C. Price: $1.25 per copy, plus postage. Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 "1 Have Called You Friends": The Priest Today John Paul H On July 5, 1986, Pope John Paul ordained ninety-two men to the priesthood in Medellin, Colombia. In the eucharistic celebration, the theme of which was "Fidelity to the Priestly Vocation," the Pope offered the following reflections. This article is based on the text which appeared in L'Osservatore Romano (18 August, 1986, pp. 4-5). Beloved brothers in the priesthood of Christ: "No longer do I call you servants., but I have called you friends, for all that I have heard from my Father I have made known to you" (Jn 15:15). During the celebration of the Last Supper Jesus addressed these words to the apostles as he instituted the sacrament of his body and blood and charged them: "Do this in memory of me" (Lk 22:19). These words are linked in a most particular way with the priestly voca-tion. Christ makes the apostles priests, entrusting into their hands the sacrament of his body and blood. That body which will be offered upon the cross, that blood which will be shed (now under the species of bread and wine), constitute the memorial of the sacrifice of the Cross of Christ. In the Upper Room, Jesus calls his apostles friends because he has given them his body and blood. From that moment on, sacramentally real-izing this sacrifice, they were to work in his name, representing him per-sonally, in persona Christi. In this consists the essential greatness of the ministerial priesthood -- in which, today, you, sons of the Church of Colombia, of the Church of Medellin, will be made participants through the Sacrament of Orders. It is a very important day in your lives and in the life of this Church which, on this occasion, I wish to greet cordially. 7 Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1987 I affectionately greet the Christian people that has assembled this evening. The Christian nobility of your families -- nurseries for priestly and religious vocations -- and their deep adherence to the Church have been the characteristics of this beloved region of Colombia. The Priest's Vocation Is God's Initiative Today's liturgy indicates to us in a particularly profound way the truth about the priestly vocation. A vocation is first of all an initiative of God himself. God continuously calls individuals to the priesthood, just as in the past he called the prophets. How striking is the description of that call given by Jeremiah: "Before I formed you in the womb I knew you" (Jr 1:5). The "knowledge" of God signifies election, the call to partici-pate in the fulfillment of his salvific plan. In the light of the Mystery of the Incarnation, this choice is closely linked with Christ as Priest: "[God] chose us in him even before the foundation of the world" (Ep 1:4). "Before you were born I consecrated you" (Jr 1:5). Consecration to God is full and total dedication for one's whole life to a charge or mission, under the action of the Spirit of the Lord who anoints and sends (Is 61 : 1). Through Holy Orders the priest participates in the anointing and mission of Christ the Priest and Good Shepherd: "He has anointed me to preach good news to the poor"(Lk 4:18). For Eternity From this it follows that the mission of the priesthood carries the seal of eternity. You are consecrated forever. It is not a decision that is sub-ject to the fluctuations of time or the vicissitudes of life. It cannot be founded upon transient sentiments or feelings. It involves, as authentic love, permanence in fidelity. You are called to remain always with the Lord, tO perpetuate friendship with him day after day, in order to model yourselves after his heart. Only in the light of this love can the evangel-ical requirements that the priestly ministry involves be understood and lived. You must put your youth fully and without reserve at the service of Christ in order to become instrumenis of salvation without frontiers. "Be not afraid of them" (Jr 1:8), we are told in the first reading from the prophet Jeremiah. There is no room for doubt and discouragement. "For I am with you" (Jr 1:8), the prophet repeats to us. Human weak-ness is not an obstacle when we know how to recognize it and place it faithfully and confidently in the hands of God. The Risen Christ empha-sizes this presence: "It is I" (Mt 28:20). Thus is it possible to carry out the mission of the Lord: "to all to whom I send you, you shall go" (Jr 1:7). I Have Called You Friends "Behold I have put my words in your mouth" (Jr 1:9). These are "words of eternal life" (Jn 6:68) which sustain the generosity of the one sent and assure the fruit of the apostolate, even if through the Mystery of the Cross. Is it legitimate to fear the word and the call of God? No! One may fear human weakness, but God's call -- never. In fact, it always indicates a marvelous path: it calls one to a particular participation in the "great things of God." It is thus wise to listen attentively to the words of the Apostle in the letter to the Ephesians: "I, therefore, a prisoner for the Lord, beg you to lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all lowliness and meekness, with patience" (Ep 4:1-2). Biblical Poverty Beloved sons, consider as well that the journey towards priestly holi-ness and the apostolate is one of biblical poverty. When we recognize our weakness, it is then that we are strong (see 2 Co 12:10). This attitude of humility, which is authenticity and truth, will lead you to recognize with joy that the priestly vocation is a gift of Christ's heart and a choice that reaches the depths of one's heart and mind. In the priestly vocation one experiences the contrast between the power and holiness of the Master who calls and the fragility and littleness of those who have been chosen. You have surely experienced within your-selves a sense of awe before the sublimity and the greatness of the mission that is being entrusted to you; but feel also the security and joy of knowing that it is Jesus who calls, that he will always be with you and give you the strength and joy to be faithful in his service. And he never abandons his disciples. Priesthood: A Gift for the Church The priestly vocation is a gift for the Church. In the Church there are diverse gifts, as the Apostle teaches us: "Grace was given to each of us according to the measure of Christ's gift" (Ep 4:7). All of these different gifts constitute an essential and unrepeatable "part" of "Christ's gift." In reality, all graces and charisms serve jointly "for building up the body of Christ" (Ep 4:12). Among these gifts, the ministerial priesthood takes on a particular importance. We participate in a special way in Christ's priesthood. Even if "from his fullness have we all received, grace upon grace" (Jn l:16), each participates in "Christ's gift" (Ep 4:7) according to particular graces and charisms, always at the service of the ecclesial community, which is the Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1987 communion of all the faithful. It is necessary to recognize, love and live the diversity and particularity of the gifts, precisely in order to build up the "one Body" of Christ that is the Church, animated by "one Spirit" (Ep 4:4). To the extent that you joyously love your priesthood, you will feel called to appreciate, respect, awaken and cultivate the other charisms of the ecclesial community in order to build up the Body of Christ unto perfection and fullness (see Ep 4:i2). The priestly identity is thus a joyous reality which we experience when we love the gift received in order to serve and improve others, with the commitment to "lay down our lives" like the Good Shepherd (see Jn 10:15). Give Yourselves in Love for Christ, for the Church If the priestly vocation is such a great gift for the Church, this means that you no longer belong to yourselves, but have become the property of Christ, who lives in this Church and awaits you in the many fields of the apostolate. You belong to Christ andto the Church, his "spotless Bride," whom "Christ loved . . . and gave himself up for" (Ep 5:25). This is what is asked of you: that you love. Love of Christ and love of the priesthood would not be possible with-out deep love for the Church, which, notwithstanding the limitations proper to her pilgrim state, does not cease to be the Body of Christ, his Spouse, and the People of God. Serve the flock as priest "not by constraint but willingly, not for shameful gain but eagerly., being examples to the flock" (1 Pt 5:2-3). May the community be able to see in you heralds of the Gospel, ded-icated to this mission of which the world has such urgent need -- a full time dedication, without invading other fields and secular occupations that do not concern you. May you be found in the place assigned to you by the bishop, whose collaborators you will be, in loyal unity, as solic-itous pastors, who in everything reflect their sacramental condition: in the soul's depths, in pastoral activity and in external behavior. To follow Christ also means to fee! truly Church, with filial love, ready for responsible collaboration and with a prompt and generous adher-ence to her discipline and norms, loyally cooperating with your bishop. Only through remaining with Christ, living with him, letting your lives be formed by him, will it be possible to proclaim him with decisiveness, frankness and ardor, communicating the experience that one lives in the mystery of and in communion with the Church, "the universal sacrament of salvation" (Ad Gentes, 1). I Have Called You Friends / 11 Abide in My Love In this way, beloved brothers and sisters, we today experience in a special way -- all of us here present -- the Father's love of which Christ speaks to the apostles on the eve of his death: "As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you" (Jn 15:9). In Christ, the Father's love becomes for us an inexhaustible source of life and light. "The priesthood is the love of the Heart of Jesus,'" said the holy Cure d'Ars, the second centenary of whose birth we celebrate this year, the year of your ordina-tion. Truly, "greater love has no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends" (Jn 15:13). It is Christ himself who lays down his life for us. And this "laying down of his life," this sacrifice, remains in the Church and, through the Church, remains in humanity from one gen-eration to the next. It remains through the word of the Gospel and in the Eucharist, the sacrament of the death and resurrection of Christ. It remains, therefore, through the ministry of priests. And through this ministry it renews itself and makes itself present in all ages. From the height of the Cross and from the heart of his salvific sacri-fice, Christ continues to say to us: "Abide in my love" (Jn 15:9). The Lord today tells each of you in a very special way, dear priestly candidates: "If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love" (Jn 15:10). Yes! "Just as I have kept my Father's commandments and abide in his .love" (ibid). In these words the divine bond or relationship transposed to the dimension of human existence is truly manifested. We know well the commandments that constitute the solidity of this permanent bond in the love of Christ. We know very well the principles of priestly life, the requirements of priestly discipline that constitute the firmness of this response. It is truly a matter of sacrificing oneself in following Christ, and this excludes any form of self-establishment, and demands the greatest possi-ble readiness, as is required of him who has nowhere to lay his head (see Lk 9:57-62). It is a commitment that embraces all one's existence, as the Messiah, the Son of God, demands, who with his word calms the tem-pest, heals the sick, evangelizes the poor, drives out demons, reconciles humanity so as to regenerate it to life. He demands full submission to the will of his Father, who may lead you, like Peter, where you do not wish to go (see Jn 21:18). But he always leads the way, lovingly carrying the same cross that he places upon our shoulders and lightens. In fact, the Lord says: "My yoke is easy and my burden is light" (Mt I 1:30). A life faithful to these requirements, a life lived with this love, simulta-neously opens before us the prospect of divine joy. "These things I have 12/ Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1987 spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full" (Jn 15:11). "This is true paschal joy" (Presbyterorum Ordinis, 11), characteristic of the priestly identity and the prelude to the flowering of priestly vocations. This is the meaning of the priestly vocation and of the service~of, or priestly ministry to, the People of God. "You Did Not Choose Me, But I Chos~ You" "You did not choose me, but I chose you" (Jn 15:16), says the Lord. These words we have all had branded on our hearts, you and I! They are Jesus' words in the familiar and intimate context of the Last Supper, when the Lord lovingly opens his heart to his disciples. It shows the gratuitous nature of his choice of those whom he constitutes his ministers, those to whom he entrusts a mission of particular importance. It is God who initiates the dialogue in salvation history, interwoven with the mar-velous reality of his love. It is he who takes the initiative with the trans-forming power of his Word that re-creates everything. "He first loved us" (Jn 4:9). For this reason the Lord adds: "I chose you and appointed you that you should go and bear fruit and that your fruit should abide" (Jn 15:16). Just as the fruit of the first sowing of the Gospel in this land and on this continent has abided in an admirable way, so will your fruit abide today, in these last years of the second Christian millennium, as the fifth centen-nial of the beginning of evangelization in Latin America approaches. Why does this fruit of Christian life abide? Perhaps because those who sowed it knew, at the same time, how to pray, to ask in Christ's name: "So that whatever you ask the Father in my name, he may give it to you" (Jn 15:16). And he will give it to us as well. Fraternal love will be the guarantee of our union with Christ and the efficacious sign of evangelization: "This I command you, to love one another" (Jn 15:17). The efficacy of the Gospel produces fruit that our eyes often do not see. The Lord's grace waits secretly in men's hearts. Today we are living off the seed which generations of generous missionaries planted in the fer-tile Colombian soil and God's grace has caused to sprout and bear fruit. Beyond Frontiers On this day which is so important for the Church, let us look to the future with confidence. The Church thanks you for the work that you are doing, beloved brother bishops and religious superiors, in the realm of vocations, with the cooperation of solicitous and suitable experts in forma-tion, attentive to the norms of the Church and the integral spiritual, academic and pastoral formation of candidates to the priesthood and reli- 1 Have Called You Friends gious life. I thank and bless you for the enormous amount of work which has been carried out in the vocations apostolate. The increase here must bring about the generous opening of hearts with a missionary spirit and a sense of co-responsibility, so that necessary help can be given to the other sister Churches which today suffer a shortage of priests. Looking to Mary, Mother of the Church and loving Mother of priests, in this extremely solemn moment, each of us will feel invited to imitate her motherly love: "In her life the Virgin has been a model of that motherly love with which all who join in the Church's apostolic mission for the regeneration of mankind should be agnimated" (Lumen Gentioum, 65). "The form of this world is passing away" (1 Co 7:31). The genera-tions of all peoples and nations pass away. But the words of the Lord do not pass away. Jesus' words pronounced at the Last Supper will now be made a reality through the Sacrament of Orders that we are about to confer upon the candidates here present. The entire Church of Colombia assembled around her bishops, the universal Church assembled around the Successor of Peter, raises its confident prayer to the Father for these deacons who today, in the city of Medellin, will receive the order of the priesthood. On Mirrors Mirrors can tell me only what I know, That with the rub of time all thing~ grow old. Nothing they hold to stir the still conviction, This must be -- Must wisely be. Wherefore, my summer over, In my skies the first sharp hint of snow, I turn all mirrors to the wall. Let come what may, This is a season now of no surprising -- Nearer the promised Springtime past surmising When God who gave me life Will claim it. Sister Cecilia Ward, S.C. Sacred Heart Convent 6225 Walnut Street Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania 15206 Mythology, Revitalization and the Refounding of Religious Life Gerald A. Arbuckle, S.M. Father Arbuckle, well known to our readers, will be directing a workshop on the sub-ject of the refounding of religious orders this summer under the auspices of REVIEW FOR RE~Jr~OUS. Just completing a sabbatical year of study and formative prayer expe-rience, he returns to the East Asian Pastoral Institute (P.O. Box1815; Manila 2800; Philippines), where he may be addressed. A myth is a story or tradition which claims to enshrine a fundamental truth or inner meaning about the world and human life. Contrary to popu-lar belief, myths are not childish stories nor mere prescientific explana-tions of the world nor are myths to be equated with falsities or fantasies. Myths are deeply serious insights about reality. Without myths we are unable to determine what things really are, what to do with them, or how to be in relation to them. We come to this conclusion in more recent times because of the writ-ings of people like Raimundo Panikkar,' Karl Jaspers and Paul Ricoeur,2 but particularly because of the careful research of cultural anthropologists into the role of myths in traditional religions. Scripture and theological studies have benefited from this rediscovery of the role of myth in society.3 Myth is recognized as essentially the way we talk .about our religious encounter with God and with the spiritual world. "Unlike historical or abstract truth," writes Avery Dulles, "mys-tery cannot be described or positively defined. It can only be evoked."' The use of symbols and mythical language is crucial for the evoking of mystery. The role of myths in the revitalization of a religious congregation is also acknowledged. For example, in a recent significant reflection on the 14 Mythology, Revitalization and Refounding Religious Life future of religious life it is said that "Central to the project of revitalization is the need to deepen the mythic roots of one's own life and those of one's community. ''~ But the nature of myths and their precise function in revitalization is poorly researched. This article is an introduc-tory attempt to respond to this paucity of research into the function of myths within religious-life revitalization. I will aim -- to clarify the nature and types of myths and the ways in which they are interpreted especially by cultural anthropologists; -- to reflect on the role of myths for religious-life revitalization and refounding. Myths, Truth and History Anthropologically a myth is a type of narrative which seeks to express in an imaginative or symbolic form a belief about the human person or culture, the world or deity, which cannot adequately be expressed in ordi-nary language. Myths reveal the "meaning and significance of spiritual reality, and how it interpenetrates and affects the familiar physical world. ,,6 Myths are concerned about the meaning of human existence at the deepest possible level, about the problems of evil, the source of crea-tion or how chaos became cosmos, the origins of different cultures. By mythically defining and structuring the world, the human person is able to grasp to some degree or other the regions beyond human control which deeply influence well-being and destiny. Like sacred icons, myths are the "medium of revelation rather than of man's self-expression . They are accepted., as handed down from the gods themselves.''7 Sometimes individuals, e.g., Old Testament prophets, are seen as the agents of the revelations of the gods in the estab-lishment or revitalization of myths. But the myths remain as the revela-tions of mysteries rather than clever illustrations or didactic entertainments on the part of mere human persons. Like all symbols, myths can evoke deep emotional responses and a sense of mystery in those who accept them, simply because they develop out of the very depths of human experience of birth, life, death. No matter how hard we seek to deepen our grasp of the meaning of myths, they still remain somewhat ambiguous and mysterious because they attempt to articulate what cannot be fully articulated. Myths can maintain their influence even though people do not con-sciously accept them. Take the first myth of Genesis, the creation story. Most Western peoples, whether they adhere to the Jewish/Christian faith 16/Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1987 or not, accept the myth's conclusions that people are sacred and have inalienable rights. Myths articulate attitudes toward reality. These atti-tudes can maintain a powerful influence on behavior over a long period.8 Myths, then, are about reality. They are efforts to explain what usu-ally is beyond empirical observation and to some degree or other outside human experience. They speak of reality and experience other than the physical world. This is an important point that needs to be understood if confusion is to be avoided. Myth and empirical truth do not contradict one another. Myths, remember, reveal truths that cannot be grasped through empirical observation. Likewise myth and history do not contradict each other. Each relates to facts from its own standpoint; history observes facts from the "outer physical side, myth from the inner spiritual side. ,9 It can happen that the symbols used to express an inner meaning or truth about life are histor-ically untrue. For example, in the Genesis story we are t01d the vital truth that God created the world. The symbols used, e.g., the number of days for creation, are not all necessarily historically true. But the myth in this case is not out to tell about an event with total historical accuracy. That is not its purpose. Sometimes a myth is totally false historically, even though it is described as though it were an historical event, e.g., the story of Job, Noah's ark. Recall the key insight: myths are out to reveal truths that'mere human observation itself cannot grasp. All kinds of symbols are used to express these truths. Myths sometimes include actual historical events but in order to give them special significance. For example, in Disneyland, Los Angeles, Abraham Lincoln is brilliantly re-presented in the Main Street Opera House, delivering a speech on liberty~ An actual historical event is portrayed. But the props used are not historical, e.g., the dramatic use of lights, the nobility of the furnishings. But these props are rightly used to convey an atmosphere of reverence for one who is "above the normal human person." Lincoln is now seen to embody key virtues of the nation's founding myth, e.g., respect for liberty, democracy and human dignity. The myth gives an inner meaning to an actual historical event. Lincoln saved the nation because he embodied the virtues on which the nation is built. Interpretation of Myths Commentators generally interpret myths in one of three different ways: functionally, symbolically or structurally. Sometimes authors blend aspects of two or all three ways of interpreting myths. This blending is in-valuable. Myths are too rich to allow only one method of interpretation. Mythology, Revitalization and Refounding Religious Life / 17 According to the functional way of interpretation, myths justify exist-ing social institutions or ways of doing things,'° People feel a deep need for an authority that transcends rational argument to justify what is happen-ing. The rise of democracy was justified in part by the myth of the "social contract." In Nazi Germany programs of vicious race-hatred were justified in part by a revival of the ancient German mythology of race superiority.'~ Symbolic interpretations assume that mythology is a poetic way of com-municating; the meanings of myths are to be found beneath the surfaces of stories. Carl Jung, Sigmund Freud and their followers support this form of interpretation. Jung believes that "the primitive mentality does not invent myths, it experiences them.''~2 There is a "collective uncon-scious," the psychic background which is common to all people, though at the same time supra-personal. There are archetypes, "forms or images of a collective nature," which are active in every mind, remnants of "his-torical mental states" which have been transmitted by traditions, migrations and heredity. These archetypes are identical with the themes of myths. Jung concludes that myths are not charters to legitimate cul-tural institutions, but psychological realities or expressions of the archetypes or primordial images of the collective unconscious. They rep-resent inherited forms present in every human person. Myths give a "local habitation and a name" to these general forms and give them "real-ity" by revealing them to the consciousness. Anthropologists, however, criticize Jung for treating myth as an irreducible mental property.'3 His explanation of myth "denies to culture any formative role in its symbol-ism.'"' For Freud and his followers myth is a type of daydream. It uses the symbolism of dreams articulating unconscious desires and conflicts. But the likening of myth to a daydream does not explain why people build myths in preference to just any daydream and why the sharing of myths is a significant social and cultural fact.'S As w~th Jung, Freudians fail to acknowledge the cultural influences in the evolution of myths. The source of myth for them is far too much dependent on the individual.~6 Many contemporary anthropologists approach the analysis of myths from a symbolic point of view. They claim however that the meanings of symbols are strongly influenced by cultural, rather than individual, experiences. The structural interpretation of myths is a rather recent development. A myth is broken into its different parts, its incidents and motifs, and the interpreter reflects on the ways in which they are interrelated. The aim is to uncover the underlying structure of a myth like a cross-section of the Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1987 geological strata beneath a landscape. The significance is not sought in the narrative but rather in the arrangement of the underlying strata. One structural pattern common in myths is the interplay of opposites and their resolution. For example the present state of things is the opposite of what was "in the beginning.'''7 In the Genesis story of the fall, Adam and Eve (and their descendants) must work hard to survive. Not so in the begin-ning. In a later myth the opposition will be resolved: "The wolf shall be ¯ a guest of the lamb .The baby shall play by the cobra's den"(Is 1 1: 6,8). A leading structuralist, anthropologist Claude Levi-Strauss, sees in myths "the emergence of a logic operating by means of binary oppositions and coinciding with the first manifestations of symbolism."'8 One of the prime functions of myth is to reconcile apparent contradictions in cultural life. Anthropologist Victor Turner has a quasi-structuralist approach to myth. Myths are for him liminal phenomena; they are recounted fre-quently at a time or in a state that is "betwixt and between," that is, when people are confused or without their traditional cultural supports. Myths recount a period in which the uncertainties and tensions of being in a state of confusion do not exist.'9 For example, the psalmist in the midst of desolation turns to the mythical expression of the Lord's great-ness and concern for Israel. The recounting of this myth gives him con-solation: "I remember the deeds of the Lord; yes I remember your won-ders of old . You led your people like a flock under the care of Moses and Aaron" (Ps 77:12,21). I will return to this insight later. Types of Myths Creation and Regeneration Myths Here are several relevant types of myths: While all cultures have specific myths through which they respond to questions of identity or behavior, it is in their creation myths that the most basic answers are to be found. Not only are creation myths the most all-embracing of mythic proclamations, addressing themselves to the widest range of questions of meaning, but they are also the most pro-found. Take, for example, the New Zealand Maori myth of creation, a myth that is extraordinarily dramatic and rich in language. Being- Itself evolves "from the conception" through thought, spirit and matter to the great peak, the "blaze of day from the sky. ,20 Creation myths like this speak about first causes; in them people express their primary understanding of mankind, the world, time and space. Mythology, Revitalization and Refounding Religious Life By way of summary,2~ many old creation myths place an absolute real-ity as the very foundation of all life. This reality is both transcendent, i.e., true for all times and places, and immanent, i.e., true in the here and now. To be both transcendent and immanent, the reality is believed to be eternal. While this absolute reality, in whatever way it is defined, is behind all myths, it is most obviously so in strict creation myths. These myths are concerned about the relation of the known to the unknowable, e.g., in the Genesis myth the relation between the world and God. Often the original reality out of which the Absolute created the world is consid-ered divine chaos. It is a chaos out of which order and dis-order can develop. Rather than being "something" negative, chaos is vigorously positive inasmuch as order can emerge from it. Anthropologist Mircea Eliade believes that there is a creation dimen-sion behind every kind of myth. Myth, he says, "is always the recital of a creation; it tells how something was accomplished, began to be. It is for this reason that myth is bound up with ontology; it speaks of realities, ~ ,~22 of what really nappeneu. For him "reality" means "sacred reality." And the sacred reality belongs to sacred time, the time when creation took place. In profane time people carry on the ordinary business of daily living. It is sacred time. which gives meaning to life; sacred time breaks into people's lives through rituals in which people re-enact, re-live the holy or the original creation, their emergence out of chaos. In short they relive the founding myths of their cultures. The reliving of the founding myth is called a regeneration ritual. It is particularly relevant when a people's cultural identity seems to be falling into chaos or is threatened with chaos. People feel the need to relive their original founding, and thus win back their identity. Regeneration rituals are not commemorative. They are always founda-tional or re-creative in their demands on people. That is, people are expected to undergo a deep interior and exterior change or revitalization; they must experience a new creation out of chaos. They are to be passive and active in the presence of the revealing absolute.2~ To use Eliade's lan-guage, in regeneration rituals sacred time breaks into profane time. Sacred time is ritual time, the brief transcendence through festival. It con-sists of those rites in which people re-enact the holy, aboriginal events of their culture. The escape into sacred time intimates immortality, a rescue in any case from the meaningless. Charter Myths These myths legitimate actions in the present or in the future. For example, people who are influenced by the Genesis myth of creation feel 20/Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1987 legitimated in their work of dominating nature.2' The American political system of checks and balances is legitimated in the Constitution myth. Identity Myths These myths, intimately related to creation myths, provide individuals and cultures with a sense of belonging. The Old Testament is filled with myths that give identity to the Israelites, e.g., the Exodus narrative. In identity myths there are often heroes, including historical figures, who symbolize this identity and whose lives indicate how this identity is to be achieved or restored, e.g., Old Testament prophets, Abraham Lincoln, J. E Kennedy. Eschatological Myths These are myths about the end of an age or the end of time. They speak about key issues of life, death and resurrection, future rewards and punishments, even an apocalyptic ihsight into a future age of peace and plenty.~ These myths often tell of a former age of peace and contentment that was lost but is to be restored if people act rightly. They are the driv-ing force behind the way people live their morality and institute revolu-tionary movements. Communism offers its golden age of the classless soci-ety, one to be shared by those who battle against oppressors. The col-lective champion, or culture hero, in this myth is the proletariat which struggles against and, eventually overcomes, the bourgeoisie. Dominant, Supportive and Directional Myths In the narrative story of a people, different myths may be intercon-nected into what is called a mythology. Generally, one myth will stand out over the others in the mythology. This is called a dominant myth. The other myths complement or support this dominant myth. Some myths, called directional myths, indicate how the foundational or creation myth is to be lived out. The written American Constitution, which established the political system, could be considered a directional myth. Myth Management New myths are created and old myths are maintained in existence, are constantly revised or die out because of a variety and flow of forces, changing needs and new perceptions. We call the creation, revision or disappearance of myths myth management. Myth management occurs through such processes as myth extension, substitution, drift and revitaliza-tion. We will briefly examine each of these processes. Mythology, Revitalization and Refounding Religious Life/91 Myth Extension When people ransack the past to find legitimation for the present, there is myth extension. For example, American politicians are apt to quote great politicians of the past, or other cultural heroes, in order to legitimate what they are saying about the present situation. In the process of extension the myth is applied to new needs. Sometimes revision or extension occurs if only the meaning of the specific myths, not the words themselves, is changed. The American foundational myth -- which includes the "revelation" that "all men are created equal," -- for exam-ple -- is still vigorous, even though we have come to include blacks and all women in an originally very restrictive assertion. Although the mean-ing of the myth is much extended, the "fact" of equality is still consid-ered to be unchallenged. Notice that the community itself is involved in one way or another in revising or extending the myth's meanings or emphases. Myth Substitution Myth substitution is a difficult and often painful process. Marxist Rus-sian leaders seek to manipulate their people, often under the threat of violence, by inventing new myths to legitimate their power and suprem-acy. 26 Sometimes a new myth becomes acceptable through a process of education, persuasion and example. Paul VI deliberately used ritual experi-ences to help people grasp Vatican II mythology. For example, in order to stress the servant role of the papacy he put aside the use of the regal tiara. For his funeral he willed that he be buried in a simple wooden casket. Myth Drift Drift occurs when myths change, degenerate or disappear without deliberate planning on the part of individuals or groups. Fairy tales and legends are sometimes secularized myths; they have lost their original sacredness because over time they have ceased to be important to people in answering key questions about life and its meaning. In our contemporary world there is a strong tendency to equate "literal-ness" with "truth." When this happens the power of myths is undermined. For example, if the metaphor referring to the ascension of Jesus to the Father is taken literally in spatial terms, then God is assumed to be resident in space, at a certain height in the atmosphere. Once this literal interpretation is brought into question, however, the danger is that the inner meaning of the myth is also called into question. But the reli-gious symbols of myth cannot be reduced to purely factual or intellectual 22/Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1987 terms. Truth is bigger than what can be empirically analyzed.27 Sometimes the dominant myth is distorted because a secondary or directional myth assumes an exaggerated position. This has happened to the Genesis creation myth. Extreme capitalism with its emphasis on indi-vidualism displaces the original stress in the mytl~ on our responsibility to be co-creators with God in this world. Social consciousness thus is downplayed in what has become a distorted myth. Marxism, with its stress on the future communist golden age, is a secularization and vulgarization of the same creation myth; for, remove God and individual dignity is unprotected.28 One of the most powerful barriers to an understanding of myth, and it~ survival, is the fact that people may no longer share the kind of faith which had originally given rise to it. As T. Fawcett says, "The myths embody a religious outlook on the world. If this is not shared by one who seeks to interpret the myths, there is at least a strong possibility of misunderstanding. Myth Revitalization Myths can articulate "how chaos became cosmos.''3° When a people or culture is threatened with chaos or experiences chaos it feels the urge to rediscover the original creation myth, to relive it. Iri the reliving of the myth, it seeks once more to achieve identity and self-worth. Take the example of the American foundation myth. This myth exalted the potential of the human person to grow in strength and human perfection. During the late 1960s and 1970s the nation experienced cultural turmoil. Antiheroes abounded: people burned the sacred flag, presidents failed to live up to the American spirit of pride in the nation's prestige, the nation suffered a disastrous war in Vietnam and was humiliated in Iran. There was needed, said Time, "a reassertion of man as shaper of the world rather than the '70s model as victim or passive partner.''3~ The 1984 Olympics at Los Angeles gave many Americans the chance to relive their founding myth: "The belief was reborn that Americans can do, well, any-thing."~ 2 There were other events also: "It was a year of ceremonies . Some of the rites played a kind of sacramental role., conferring a heal-ing reassurance."~ And there were cultural heroes: the organizer of the Olympic Games, the participants themselves, thecountry's actor-president. Notice the key factors in revitalization: a feeling of chaos/confusion, the emergence of cultural heroes in touch with creation roots and the will-ingness of people to participate in the reliving or reappropriation of the founding myth. The myth can be updated, distorted or purified in the pro-cess. Stallone in Rambo and Rocky is, an updating of the American mythic Mythology, Revitalization and Refounding Religious Life hero; he is the modem cowboy, now dressed for contemporary deeds. In light of the Gospel, and indeed of the creation myth of America itself, this updated mythic hero is a moral distortion of what the hero should be because of the senseless use of violence .34 Notice, finally, that for revitalization to occur the myth should come alive in new symbols, e.g., in the American case, the "Games Extrava-ganza." If this does not happen, then the supposed revitalization is a regressive and fundamentalist movement, such as happened in the Iranian revolution. There is a failure to adjust to the realities of change. Summary: Key Anthropological Points in Myths Despite the divergent approaches to the study of myths, there are important points of agreement among anthropologists. Here are some of them: Myths Are Symbolic Revelations of Truths A symbol is any reality that by its very dynamism leads to another deeper reality through a sharing in the dynamism that the symbol itself offers. Symbols speak not just to the intellect, but more especially to the heart, to the feelings. Symbols arouse strong emotional responses. The one symbol can contain many meanings at the same time, even contrary meanings, e.g., the cross connotes both death and resurrection. ' Symbols do not just point to the things signified (as simple signs do), but they truly represent them. This is why symbols operate at the level of metaphor, not of simile. The metaphor articulates not merely a like-ness, but an identity. Such a metaphor insists on being taken seriously at a very deep level, that of personal commitment. So a myth, expressed in metaphorical symbolism, demands that people identify with its inner mes-sage and accept the consequences in action of this inner conversion.~5 Within each myth one metaphor will pred6minate over others. This metaphor is called the root metaphor, e.g., in the Way of the Cross, Christ is the root metaphor, while the persons of Mary and Veronica are complementary or supportive metaphors in the narrative.~ Creation Myths Speak of Chaos Creation myths are the most universal kind of myth. They tell us why humans suffer and die, how they establish and maintain social cohesion, how they relate to absolute reality. In many myths an original chaos is depicted, but a chaos that has potential for creativity. In the Judaeo- Christian tradition, the absolute reality is God. When people experience intense confusion, they are apt to experience themselves as reinserted into 24/Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1987 that original chaos. The retelling of the myth can give them new energy, new hope. Myths, History and Doctrines Are to Be Distinguished A myth is not some kind of mixed-up history. It tells what occurred not in profane or ordinary time, but in the beginning, in sacred time, i.e., in the period of the gods or the creators of the world. It is an account of a primordial event that gives meaning to reality, telling why it came into existence and why it continues to exist. History deals With another type of reality altogether, i.e., the observable world. Historical analysis is invaluable in helping people dis-cover how local history has affected the interpretation of myths. History, however, cannot evaluate the authenticity of the inner meaning of a myth. Special evaluative principles, e.g., from theology or Church magisterium in relating to Christian mythology, are needed to authenticate a myth's meaning. The aim of a myth is to communicate a profound truth in the form of a story. Religious myth achieves a kind of revelatory character through this truth, by uncovering something of universal validity about the nature of life and reality. Neither are myths equivalent to doctrines, though they are both ways of interpreting religious experiences. Doctrines generally use philosoph-ical language to express meanings, whereas myths use highly symbolic language. Myths complement doctrines; they help provide insight into the more abstract content of doctrines.37 Mythical Archetypes and Ritual Assume Conversion Anthropologist Bronislaw Malinowski asserts that myth "is not merely a story told but a reality lived." It is "not an idle tale, but a hard-worked active force.''~ Eliade believes myth is a "sacred history" and hence "saturated with being . . . and power. ,,39 Both authors, experts in the study of myth, are speaking of the "eternal" relevance and dynamism of myths for those who accept them. What does this mean? In all cultures there are some forms of repeated symbolic behavior that are tied by explanatory verbalization to their basic ways of understand-ing human existence. The repeated symbolic behavior is called ritual. The explanatory verbalization is myth. The myth sets out what should be; it .is the archetypal directive to a group of people. In ritual, people "own" or interiorize that directive; ritual provides a way of participating in the myth experience. The key word is archetypal. The Absolute -- in whatever way it is defined -- is immanent as well as transcendent in every creation myth. That is,the Absolute is here as well as everywhere; it is now as well as always. Mythology, Revitalization and Refounding Religious Life The Absolute achieves transcendence and immanence through arche-types; they give shape and form to this or that. Archetypes are always valid, never change, because they are the Absolute and belong to sacred time. Archetypes break into profane time through ritual, giving people the chance to experience sacred time. Jesus, the archetype, rises from the tomb and transcends his relativity at all times. But he is with us now as he was with those who saw him on the first Easter Day.'° This is a key insight especially into creation myths. The archetype is not a prototype. The latter connotes the first of a line; the prototype may or may not con-tinue to influence subsequent events. But the archetype has universal application; it is timeless, it guarantees authenticity, it is the re-presentation of the Absolute of the myth in the here and now. Adam has relevance to us, not just because he is considered the first man, i.e., prototype, but because he represents the essential man, i.e., an archetype. His original sin is therefore ours. It is inherent in the human condition. We inherit the sin to the degree that we inherit our humanity. This is what is meant when we say that a myth is an active force or is saturated with power. For that power or active force to have an effect, people must acknowl-edge its existence; they must own it. For this to occur there needs to be a conversion to the reality of the myth. It is to accept the reality and force of sacred time within our lives. We allow the transcendent Absolute to become immanent, i.e., to take over our lives through the myth. II My task now is to illustrate how this analysis of myth can help us to grasp in more depth what is meant when we, as religious, are called "to deepen the mythic roots of one's own life and those of one's com-munity." The "Creation Myth" of Religious Life We believe as Christians that the Absolute in the Genesis creation myth is God himself, and that Jesus is the Absolute in the redemption myth of the Gospel. We come to these insights through the power and the presence of the Holy Spirit: "The Spirit we have received is not the world's spirit but God's Spirit, helping us to recognize the gifts he has given us" (l Co 2:12). The life, suffering, death and resurrection of Jesus constitute the Re-creation Myth; through Jesus we have a more pro- 42 found understanding of God and his designs for us. The Christian "locks in" on the Re-creation Myth by accepting the 26/Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1987 same mission that the Father gave the Son, the mission to go out and bring the Good News to all. The call by the Father to mission with the Son constitutes the creation myth of religious life. While all Christian people are committed to evangelical perfection and mission with the Son, religious for their part publicly commit them-selves in faith to be unconditional in their response to the Father's call, in their love of him and of members of their own communities, his Church, and the world he wants to be saved. They openly commit them-selves not to this or that particular demand of the Lord at this or that par-ticular time and place but to be totally available, as other Christs, for the Father's work. They strive to take seriously always the command of the Lord: "Be converted and believe in the Good News"(Mk 1:15). This requires of religious an enduring identification with Christ, an act of love, that should govern all their actions. This describes the identification myth of religious. Religious are drawn by the power of the eschatological myth also, that is, the myth of the 'promise of "new heavens and a new earth where., the justice of God will reside"(2 Pt 3:13). They seek to reveal this new world of justice and love now, that through their example others maydiscover the saving power of the Lord, his mercy and compassion.'3 The commitment through the vows logically flows from the ear-nestness of t:eligious to be available to the Lord and to his Church. Vows place the person at the service of mission; they give religious more free-dom to be totally at the service of the Lord's mission. J. Tillard notes that the vows form a supportive myth. When they are seen as the dominant myth in religious life, religious tend to become inward-looking and hesitant in serving the needs of an ever changing world: One becomes a religious for the sake of the Gospel, not strictly for the . sake of the three classical vows. Although the vows represent elements that are specific to the religious life and therefore indispensable to who-ever feels called to that life by the Holy Spirit, they are not the primary elements in the concrete life of grace of the religious." This was recognized in practice by the Church for centuries; the custom of the now traditional three religious vows comes only from the 45 turn of the twelfth century. As religious commit themselves to be in the forefront of revealing the mythical mYstery of the Lord's redemptive love for the world, the Church rightly expects of them a creative dynamism in searching out new and better ways of preaching this message. Religious, then, are to be special-ists in pastoral innovation, in giving ritual flesh to the myths that motivate them. This charismatic character of religious life ,as being open to the Mythology, Revitalization and Refounding Religious Life / "2"1 Spirit in mission we can refer to as its directional myth. It indicates the how of living out religious life. Theologian Johannes Metz says that religious are to be a kind of shock therapy instituted by the Holy Spirit for the Church as a whole. Against the dangerous accommodations and questionable com-promises that the Church as a large-scale institution can always incline to, they press for the uncompromising nature of the Gospel and of the imitation of Christ. In this sense they are the institutionalized form of a dangerous memory within the Church.'6 Once religious cease to be a dangerous memory within the Church, or once they stop being creatively responsive to the needs of the Church, they cease to be identified with the distinguishing mythology of religious life. Ultimately identification with Christ the Redemptive Myth comes through faith, nourished in prayer. The day-to-day struggle of the reli-gious to be uncompromising in mission will at times fill him or her with "fear and distress" such as Jesus experienced in the garden before his passion, for "the spirit is willing but nature is weak"(Mk 14:34,38). Their fervent prayer is: "My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass me by. Still, let it be as you would have it,,not as I"(Mt 26:39). Zeal with-out prayer cannot survive. In prayer we discover the precipitous depths of our own poverty on the one hand, and the saving presence of Jesus the Myth on the other. With him we speak confidently for strength to the Father. The Mythology of Religious Congregations Individual religious congregations exist in the Church because found-ing persons are deeply shocked to see the gap e~isting between the Gospel and the world. They see people who do not know of the mercy and healing power of Christ. They~see even people who have heard of Christ compromise with worldly values. These founding persons recog-nize how the gap between the Gospel and the woi'ld Can be bridged through particular apostolic strategies. So they act. Inspired by the Holy Spirit, they invite others to join them in living out their new vision. Thus the seeds are sown for a new religious congrega-tion to emerge. Each congregation, then, has its own distinctive mythology--its crea-tion, identity, .directional myths. The myth-maker is the founding person in cooperation with the Holy Spirit. The root metaphor or symbol in the dominant myth will be the particular aspect of the redemptive myth of Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1987 Christ that is seen to be especially applicable at a particular time and place in the Church's life, e.g., the poverty of Christ, Christ as evangelizer. A religious congregation, when it is true to its mythology, is a medium of God's revealing and redeeming presence in the world. The fervor of the original congregational creation myth, as history shows, is very rarely sustained.'7 Our analysis of myth management helps us to understand how this winding down of enthusiasm occurs. Through a process of "myth drift" religious congregations can, even without realiz-ing it, accommodate their apostolic work and way of living too much to ambient secular values and customs. They neglect the uncompromising nature of the original myth. In the Middle Ages the Benedictines in Europe went into decline. "No one [any longer] looked to them for new ideas or new forms of spir-itual life," comments historian Richard Southern. "Rather they looked to them for stability, pageantry, involvement in the aristocratic life of the upper classes."4~ Gone was the inner commitment to the founding myth of creative obedience through a vigorous spirit of self-abnegation. They became lost in maintenance and forgot mission! Historian David Knowles, reflecting on the decline of the quality of the lives of monks, religious and clergy in the early Tudor period in England, comments: "Monks and clergy alike were children of their age and country; it was this that made the Dissolution [of the monasteries under Henry VIII], and indeed many of the religious changes of the reign, not only possible but relatively easy of accomplishment. ,,9 They had become accommodated so comfortably to the worldly values of the time that they were indistinguishable from the people they claimed to serve. Through the neglect of their founding mythology, religious had drifted to a point of spiritual and innovative enfeeblement. Their extinc-tion was then inevitable, even if Henry VIII had not himself acted with such speed. Sometimes a secondary or directional myth can be substituted for the creation and/or identity myths as a result of unchecked drift on the part of the religious congregation. For example, a congregation established for the pastoral needs of the poor through education services found itself eventually running schools only for the well-to-do. Members of the congre-gation "justified" this movement away from the poor on the grounds that the institute was founded "for education through schools." The mythology of the congregation was being misread. Concern for the poor belonged to the creation and identity myths; the establishment of schools pertained only to a directional myth. The congregation had definitely moved away from its mythical roots. Raymond Hostie believes that a myth substitution through the imposi- Mythology, Revitalization and Refounding Religious Life tion of a semimonastic model of religious life affected many congrega-tions of both men ahd women founded in the two centuries prior to Vatican II. In its defense against the effects of the Reformation and an emerging secularism, the Church turned in on itself. Its "narcissistic pre-occupation," as Avery Dulles phrases it,~° discouraged experimentation. Congregations certainly grew numerically and spread geographically. But the creative insights of founding persons, which should have led to rad-ically new forms of religious-life witness and pastoral action, were unable to be realized. It is not surprising, therefore, that the models of religious life in non-European lands even now remain Western.~' In the period fol-lowing upon Vatican II, religious life inculturation is a slow and very hes-itant process. Case Study of a Mythology: The Marists In this case study I will first describe the mythology system of a particular religious congregation; then I will summarize what has hap-pened to this mythology after the congregation was formally approved. Aspects of the above analysis will be highlighted in the case study. Mythology of the Society of Mary The Society of Mary (Marist Fathers and Brothers) was founded by Father John C. Colin in Lyons, France, and formally approved in 1836. Its aim is to carry on Mary's work in the world. "She is," he writes, "the refuge, the defense, the support, the advocate . the recourse of the militant Church." The creation (and dominant) myth reveals Mary as sup-porting the apostles at Pentecost or at the beginning of the Church, but with an added dimension. That support is to be continued now in and through Marists and other people committed to her seryice. She is recorded as saying: "I upheld the Church at its birth; I shall do so again at the end of time." Mary herself, through the Holy Spirit, decides to found a congregation which is to take her name. Her human instrument in this founding, according to Fr. Colin, is Fr. Colin himself. She remains the first and perpetual superior of the congregation, which is itself committed to be her presence within the Church "at the end of time." The root metaphor is Mary herself, Mother of Mercy. And it is from this metaphor that Marists receive their identity. Marists are to "be Mary" to the world; they are to think, judge and act as Mary does. So they are to be instruments of the Divine Mercy. There are several directional myths indicating how Marists are to be Mary as the support of the Church. As instruments of Divine Mercy, 30/Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1987 Marists are to stress qualities of forgiveness, tenderness, compassion. A second direction myth is summarized in the phrase "hidden and unknowns" In the early Church Mary acted quietly, aiming all the time to inspire people to grow in Christ. So also Marists are to encourage people to develop their own gifts in the Lord. Hence, Marists must be prepared to withdraw from involvement as those they serve discover their own potential for self-growth. A powerful symbol of this action-principle, "hidden and unknown," is Nazareth. No one can act in a hidden, self-effacing way, unless he or she has the humility, the detach-ment that comes from deep union with Christ in prayer. Nazareth sym-bolizes these key virtues. Only through these virtues will a Marist avoid selfishness and the desire for power that are obstacles which would obstruct Mary's work in the Church. To be Pentecost people, Marists must be firmly rooted in the contemplative virtues of Nazareth. A further directional myth is devotion to learning. Marists are to be concerned for any kind of learning that would make them better instru-ments of the Divine Mercy. There is also a vigorous eschatological myth within the Marist mythology. "The Society of Mary," declares its founder, "must begin a new Church over again." By this he means not an arrogant claim to reform, but rather a challenge to "re-create the faith of the first believ-ers." As the early believers were of one mind and one heart, so there will be the same kind of communion in the fullness of Christ's kingdom. By living in one mind and in one heart, Marists will help transform the Church, aiding it to be now what the world will be in the perfection of the kingdom to come. This eschatological myth affected the founder's vision of how Marists are to relate to lay people and to worldly symbols of power. Colin had the vision of a family, a family of Mary, in which there would also be lay people who commit themselves to be Mary to the world in which they live. Because he stressed the notion of Mary's family, Colin reacted to the evils of clericalism and attachment to worldly distinctions. On the practical level, therefore, Marist brothers and priests are to live together without distinction, showing to a world in which distinctions and unequal differences of lifestyles are commonplace that such behavior patterns are foreign to the kingdom that is to come. The particular object of Marist apostolic concern is those who are the most abandoned, the "little people" of this world, those with whom no one else is involved. The concern for the "little people" belongs to th.e identity myth ofthe congregation. Anthropologist Levi-Strauss speaks of "binary oppositions" within Mythology, Revitalization and Refounding Religious Life myths. Such oppositions exist in Marist mythology. And they are dialectical in quality or tension: Pentecost versus Nazareth, identification with the local Church versus commitment to the more universalist reli-gious life, with its freedom and identity. Take the latter tension. Colin says that bishops must consider Marists "as if they were their own men." On the other hand he insists in word and action on areas of independence from bishops. How are the two to be reconciled? As in all myths, no detailed instructions are given on how such tensions are to be reconciled in practice. It is assumed that their res-olution is possible only through people identifying thoroughly with the mythology. Marists in a spirit of faith will discover how the tensions are to be worked out in reality, thus revealing that people can live together with one heart and one mind. In summary, Colin founded a congregation committed, through its stress on Pentecost, to a service within the Church that is pastorally cre-ative, mobile and flexible, depending on the priority of need. He strongly detested any apostolate that would prevent the congregation from acting according to these qualities. Hence only in very exceptional conditions did he allow Marists to staff parishes. He feared that parishes would pre-vent Marists from being available for works of greater need. Colin believed that the nineteenth century had ushered in the age of Mary. He felt chaos on all sides, both in the civil and in the ecclesiastical spheres. Mary established her congregation to be one instrument of mercy to people caught in this chaos. To respond adequately to this challenge, Marists must possess the creativity of Pentecost and the hidden, contemplative virtues of Nazareth. Implementation of Marist Mythology: Myth Management Did Colin's dream of Pentecostal creativity take place in the congrega-tion he founded.'? For a variety of reasons, the actual interiorization and living out of Marist mythology (as revealed through Colin) up to Vatican II have been very hesitant indeed. Certainly, as with many other congrega-tions founded in France in the nineteenth century, the institute expanded numerically and geographically at great speed. Marists, with extraordi-nary courage and faith, left for remote and dangerous mission fields. The congregation has loyally served local Churches wherever it has been estab-lished. But, as with many other congregations over the last two hundred years, the institute has rarely shown any above-average pastoral creativ-ity, mobility or flexibility--at least if we take the founder's Pentecost met-aphor as the measure of analysies. Powerful internal and external factors militated against the type of pastoral and religious-life creativity that 32/Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1987 could have been expected to have emerged out of the founding charism. Internally, myth management through substitution and drift par-ticularly dulled the impact of the founding charism. The founder's suc-cessor as superior general had not adequately interiorized the founding mythology. He had a far less exalted vision of what the congregation should be. Hence he proceeded to impose his own mythology on the young congregation. He believed the congregation should be nothing more than a pious association of dedicated people. The founder later had his own vision concretized into approved constitutions. But in practice the institute rarely lived the rich insights of the creation ,and dominant myths. What was a directional myth -- the Nazareth symbol -- became instead the dominant myth. instead of the Nazareth myth ("hidden and unknown") remaining as an action-principle, that is, indicating how Marists are to act apostolically, it became an end in itself. Now Marists were to do nothing apostolically that would in any way attract attention to themselves. This was a tragic distortion. It legitimated mediocrity and dullness. It reinforced the already existing nineteenth-century image of religious life, namely, that it be semimonastic in structure, inward-looking and a vigorous supporter of the status quo. The distortion also effectively killed another key directional myth, namely, the concern that the founder had for learning as an essential means for the living out of the creation myth. Few people were encour-aged to research and publish their findings for fear that they would draw attention to the congregation and to themselves. Inevitably the distortion influenced the initial formation programs of the institute, so that it thus became perpetuated from generation to generation. The overall failure of the congregation to grasp the founder's insights is evident in a review of the general and provincial chapter decrees or legislation from the 1870s to Vatican II. For example, the 1873 general chapter of the Marists established the aims of the provincial chapters: to promote religious discipline according to the Rule and to inquire into the financial administration of houses. No mention was made of the need to. foster new forms of religious-life witness or pastoral action. The 1893 pro-vincial chapter of one of the provinces directed that "Religious [includ-ing pastors] were° prohibited from going out after the evening meal for unnecessary visits." The assumption was that a Marist house is a quasi, monastery; people should respect this, and anyone in need pastorally should be discouraged from approaching Marists "after the evening meal," unless in exceptional circumstances. An examination of provincial visitation reports reflects the same con- Mythology, Revitalization and Refounding Religious Life cern for the maintenance of religious discipline and respect for the Rule, but again no interest in the evaluation of pastoral effectiveness or creativ-ity. For example, just prior to the Japanese invasion of Ne~v Guinea in World War II, a provincial reported on the state of Marists in a particu-larly difficult section of that country: "The fathers, in spite of their pov-erty, must wear socks when saying Mass and be dressed decently, as respectable clergymen ought to be when appearing in public." Nothing was said about the enormous pastoral and cultural challenges which con-fronted the men.5' Externally the congregation was affected deeply by the semimonastic view of religious life referred to above. This model provided very little opportunity for the type of creativity envisaged by the original Marist mythology. It was assumed theologically that the world should adapt to the unchanging Church, not vice versa. The curricula of seminaries of this time allowed for little or no room for positive social-science subjects, e.g., sociology, anthropology. These subjects were not seen to be neces: sary for the apostolate. The above analysis is given not to provide reasons to ridicule the past, but to illustrate the historical way in which this particular congrega-tion, along with many others at that time, found difficulties in interiorizing the founder's vision. The analysis also helps to put into per-spective the adaptive efforts of the congregation since Vatican II. In the 1950s, there began within the congregation an historical in-depth analysis of its mythology. Thus the institute was well prepared to take up the challenge of Vatican II that religious should reflect on their founding charisms. The richness of the original insights of the founder were already being exposed. Through the advances in Scripture and the-ology studies, the congregation was able to deepen yet further its grasp of the meanings of its myths. Thus, through a process of myth extension, it became possible for the congregation to embrace insights unknown at the time of the founder, e.g., insights into Mary as a s~ymbol within the Church, the role of the local Church, confirmation about the creative role of religious life. Marists were now exposed to a mythology that was denied many previ-ous generations. Little wonder that the comment is made today that the congregation, having rediscovered its original mythology, is set for refounding. Mythology, Revitalization and Refounding Religious Life Religious congregations today are experiencing chaos.5~ Twenty years after Vatican II, despite renewal chapters, surveys, renewal programs, 34/Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1987 congregations remain confused. Recruitment is poor, entrants even nonex-istent in many instances. The average age of religious rises alarmingly. Unless the present trend is checked, extinction for many institutes seems inevitable. Yet, as history shows, this experience of chaos is a potentially cre-ative atmosphere for religious-life growth. New religious congregations have generally emerged not so much when the Church was flourishing, but rather when it was profoundly disoriented and uncertain of itself. The Church is disoriented and unsure of itself at this moment. Hence the urgency to look more .closely at the creative possibilities of the chaos we are experiencing. In the Book of Jeremiah we have an insight into the positive dimen-sion of chaos. Yahweh informs Jeremiah what he expects of him: "See, I place my words in your mouth!. To root up and to tear down, to destroy and to demolish, to build and to plant"(1:10). Before there can be life again among the Israelites, all their securities, their apparently eternally valid ways of acting, must be destroyed and pulled down. The people will feel lost and disoriented. They will look for the consoling help of Yahweh. Then they will realize that they have become too com-placent about life and their institutions: they must again become pilgrims. The message of the book remains highly relevant. We religious are a pilgrim people. There Jan be no permanent security, whether in ideology, apostolates, buildings, ritual ancestry, history, except what comes from our trust in God. While we relate to the past and our roots, we are to be open to the future in constantly changing ways. People tend to react to chaos in one of two possible ways: negatively or positively. When people deny that chaos exists they act negatively. Jesus often reminds the Pharisees and Scribes that they are denying the chaos and confusion within them. He condemns them for distorting the founding myth of the nation. Within their hearts there is but chaos and confusion, and they will not admit it: "You cleanse the outside of cup and dish, but within you are filled with rapaciousness and evil . You are like hidden tombs over which men walk unawares" (Lk 11:39,44). People can refuse to accept the challenge of chaos by attempting to escape into the past. They find comfort in a kind of historical romanticism or nostalgia. The past is idealized, and they hope for a restora-tion without change. Such people will not acknowledge the need for interior and exterior adaptation to a changing world. Nostalgia, however, gives only temporary consolation. Eventually reality must be faced if people are to survive. Positively, people can react to chaos when they acknowledge their Mythology, Revitalization and Refounding Religious Life total dependence on God and enter into a reconversion process. Reconverted, these people live with new and zealous lives of justice and love in Yahweh's service. Often in the Old Testament the longing for con-version grows out of a deep sense of sin, suffering, and frustration, result-ing from an experience of disorientation. All these agonies of soul are cou-pled with prayers for mercy, forgiveness, and for yet another chance to begin all over again: -"A clean heart create for me, O God, and a stead-fast spirit renew within me . I will teach transgressors your ways, and sinners will return to you."(Ps 51:12,15). In the midst of chaos the reconverted Israelites retell, and relive, the nation's 9reation myth, e.g., "Aloud to God I cry;o.on the day of my distress I seek the Lord . I remember the deeds of the Lord; yes, I remember your wonders of old. And I meditate on your works; your exploits I ponder."(Ps 75:2,3,12,13). Through his recital of the foundation myth the psalmist gains hope, but only on condition that he hir~self is in deep union with Yahweh through reconversion in faith. Faith's hope and reconversion are integral. The archetype of the creation myth is: God saves a humble and con-trite people who cry out for help. When the Israelite is humbly, contrite and cries from the depths for help, the myth is once more revitalized. So also in the New Testament. There are eight occasions in the gospels on which Jesus says "Your faith has saved you," or equivalent words, e.g., the blind man (Mk 10:52, Lk 18:42). In all eight examples there are three characteristics: first, there is a situation of critical need; second, this need is expressed in some action or statement that clearly costs much; third, there is a clear sign that the petitioner abandons himself or herself uncondi-tionally to the will of Jesus. In Gethsemane Jesus himself gives an exam-ple of this prayer pattern when he petitions the Father: expression of dire need, action and statement that costs so much, the expression of his total abandonment to the w¯ dl of the Father (Mk 14:32-42). As with the Israelites, as also with Je~sus, we religious are confronted with a dire need: the urgency to abandon our congregation and ourselves to the will of God. He has allowed our securities -- born of our t~:ust in fine buildings and institutions, and of a never ending supply of vocations -- to be destroyed. What is God asking of us now? What is our future? In times of chaos, positively oriented Israelites retold their mythology, especially their creation myth. The act of obedience to Yahweh became the ritualization of their mythology. As for those Israelites, so also for contemporary religious. In the retelling of our congregational mythology, there must be the carrying out of God's will 36/Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1987 in the here-and-now. This is the ritual dimension of mythology. The transcendent power of God becomes immanent in this or that particular action. H~wever, for an authentic retelling of congregational myths, the individual religious need to be involved in three processes: 1. The interpretation of the congregational 'mythology.~ Congregational mythology must b~' purified of all distortions and inau-thentic substitutions that have occurred over time. Purification requires a critical, historical analysis. This should be done with due reference to theology and the relevant documents of the Church. For example, if pas-toral creativity has ceased to be a key directional myth in the congrega-tional, mythology, it is to be restored to its correct position. Or if the mythology does not permit of due consultation by superiors of religious, then a correction is required in line with Vatican II and the New Code. This latter eventuality would be an example of myth extension. Interpretation is a long and difficult task. Not all have the expertise to undertake it. However, all are to be critically acquainted with the results of interpretation through personal and community study/reflection. Expert historians should be available for questioning by the congregation. At some point an official group of the congregation may have to' decide on what should be an interpretation of difficult texts -- especially if it is a question of new constitutions. There are two dangers to be avoided at the interpretation stage. First, religious who are insensitive to the power and necessity of symbols, met-aphors and mythology, may want congregational literature, e.g., con-stitutions, presented "rationally, scientifically, literally." The argument of this entire article is that this cannot be done. An attempt to do so will only distort the founding person's message. Second, no matter how many conferences and learned discussions are held to interpret the founding charism or learn about it, this does not mean that congregational revitalization has occurred or will inevitably take place. Remember, the temptation to escape into historical romanticism or nostalgia through frequent references to the founding person's insights without at the same time being prepared to live out the challenge of his charism in contemporary life is very real indeed. Mere discussion can take on an almost magical note: "The more we discuss, the faster we will find our way out of chaos." Expert interpreters come to be viewed as gurus or congregational magicians: they will lead us to the right and ancient ways of doing .things. I suspect that all too many of us fall victim to this temptation. We fear the internal and exter-nal changes that will have' to be made if we take the role of mythology Mythology, Revitalization and Refounding Religious Life / 37 as the way out of confusion seriously. Remember, interpretation is only the first stage in congregational revitalization. Reconversion and discernment have yet to occur. 2. The discernment of the mythology's relevance.55 For discernment to take place there must be a reconversion by reli-gious on three levels: personally (and corporately) to Christ, to the mission of the Church and to the congregation's mythology (which assumes a revitalized theology of religious life). The call to reconversion (or, as it is sometimes called, "second con-version") is the call to transcend previous levels of faith and love, to move toward a mature faith which transforms the person from disciple to steward, one prepared to give oneself without reservation to the mission of the Lord.56 St. Paul explains it in this way: "It is not that I have reached it yet, or have already finished my course: but I am racing to grasp the prize if possible since I have been grasped by Christ . I give no thought to what lies behind but push on to what is ahead"(Ph 2:120. The call to reconversion will invariably bring with it the request by Christ to an ever more radical experience of him--in his suffering, his facing of chaos and a sense of abandonment, his complete commitment to the will of the Father, his death -- before there is the "resurrection" of inner clarity as to what the Father wishes. To live as steward for others means we must first die to self: "He died for all so that those who live might live no longer for themselves"(2 Co 5:15). The poorer we are in spirit, the more preparted we are to spot and abandon our prejudices and our yearning for power over others. Freed from such obstacles we are open to see the Lord in others and in the events around us. Without the cross there can be no reconversion. Historian David Knowles, in the last paragraph of his detailed analysis of the causes of the decline of monasticism in England in Tudor times, warns: "When once a religious or a religious order ceases to direct its sons to the abandonment of all that is not of God, and ceases to show them the rigors of the narrow way that leads to the imitation of Christ in his love, it sinks to the level of a purely human institution, and whatever its works may be they are the works of time and not of eternity.''57 The message is that of the Gospel. It is as valid today as it was in the English Tudor times. There is an ecclesial dimension to the reconversion of the religious. Religious congregations exist to serve the Church. And the Church exists to serve the world that .is today in revolutionary change. Any reconversion will involve a recommitment to the mission of the Church in this world. This means listening to what the needs of the world are; it Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1987 also includes the commitment to be bold in pastoral initiatives in response to these needs. Finally, reconversion involves the radical recommitment to the con-gregational mythology. The individual religious, united with Christ and inspired by the Holy Spirit, experiences the same kind of outrage that the founding person felt when he or she was confronted by the enormity of the chaos separating the Gospel on the one hand and the world in its need on the other. The reappropriation of the founding charism is first and fore-most the reliving of this original shock. The founding person's spirit breaks into our lives the moment we experience that shock. Anthropologist Bronislaw Malinowski justly speaks of myth as "a nar-rative resurrection of a primeval reality."s8 The primeval reality is the shock, the archetype, that belongs to sacred time or the time of the begin-ning that is relived here and now. The converting religious resurrects and relives the sacred time of the beginning once more in all its radicalness. At that point the founding charism lives again. The mythology is alive and active. Like the founding person, some of the reconverting religious will see what strategies are needed to help bridge the chaos. The people who have such gifts of insight and action are in fact re-founding persons, congrega-tional prophets. They should not be viewed as "loners" or "individualists" who lack a sense of community. Despite the very real danger of rejection by other religious, they retain a deep love of the found-ing mythology. They yearn, as did the founding persons, to draw others with them into a radical faith-community of congregational rebuilders. There is a fire in these people, a Gospel radicality that disturbs the com-placent, the spiritually leth-argic, those who have compromised with worldly values. Not all reconverting religious are called to be significant refounding persons. Most of us are rather called to exercise our discernment in discovering those among us who are gifted to be such people. Once these individuals have been spotted, our task is to join with them in aiding the congregation to move out of chaos into a new integration of the Gospel and the needs of the world.5" 3. Effective commitment to action: myth ritualization Myth is action as well as words. The action is the ritual dimension of the myth. Sacred time, primeval reality, breaks into life here and now. For myth ritualization there is required courage, a boldness of initiative and drive. In brief, an ongoing process of reconversion is necessary. In ritual we grab hold of the inner dynamism of the myth in action that is adapted to changed circumstances of time and place. Mythology, Revitalization and Refounding Religious Life Of course, we need to be open to the fact that in our discernment we may discover it is actually God's will for our community, province or congregation to die. Gospel resignation in the face of even congregational death will be salvific, a badly needed witness to many contemporary cul-tures of how death must be faced. Most Western cultures do everything possible to avoid facing the reality of death-chaos. From a Christian point of view, active submission to the realities of one's own death-bound nature becomes an act of obedient surrender to the Father, a total com-mitment to the full power of faith, hope and love.~° As it is for each Christian, so it should be for a religious congregation that discerns it is God's will for it to die: "Father, into your hands I com-mend my spirit" (Lk 23:46). Summary Myth is always an effort to reveal or articulate, and so to make compre-hensible, some truth about the world and our life in it. This truth cannot be grasped or known fully in itself but is capable of being expressed in and through symbols. The myth should attempt to articulate transcendental reality, to give the meaning behind ever changing experi-ences that influence human life, "to pin down an Absolute in which the human mind can rest with some feeling of security."~' Myths become distorted or cease to exist for several reasons. In particular, myths die because they are no longer relevant or because people refuse the self-discipline required by the myth. Myths are liminal phenomena, that is, their retelling gives meaning and security to people in the midst of personal or cultural chaos. If people are prepared to adapt their myths to new circumstances, then they will break through chaos into new life, and their myths will become vital bnce more. Religious congregations have their own particular mythologies. Today congregations are in chaos. They are confused about what to do, how to revitalize, how to discover what God is asking of them. They may even be fearful of what God will ask, now that their once secure struc-tures have disappeared. For revitalization to occur there needs to be a retelling by religious of their congregational mythologies. This retelling, if it is to be something more than a hollow nostalgic or sentimental recital of past achievements, must emerge out of a process of myth interpretation/ reconversion/discernment. Reconversion is the wholehearted abandonment to the Father's will in imitation of Jesus who "emptied himself., obediently accepting even death on the cross"(Ph 2:7,8). It is the admission that oneself and one's 40/Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1987 congregation have an absolute need of God who alone is the ultimate source of security and identity. When this abandonment takes place, then the experience of chaos or confusion within oneself and the congregation becomes creative. Through poverty of spirit, the religious finds a way to discover the presence of God, the Absolute, the ultimate figure revealing laimself in the congregational myth. Strengthened by this grace of reconversion, the religious and the congregation itself are prepared to discern God's will in their regard. Through discernment religious may discover that God wishes the congre-gation to die. The free acceptance of congregational death is a salvific action. Or discernment may reveal that the congregation should come alive through reliving the experience that gave birth to the original congregational charism, but adapted now to new needs and circum-stances. Reconversion, discernment and reappropriation of the founding experi-ence will not take place as long as religious are not prepared to face these questions: Do we deny the existence of chaos within and without? If we acknowledge chaos, am I and my congregation willing to acknowledge its positive potential? Are we prepared to face the self-abnegation and abandonment to God, with its naked faith darknesses, as the prerequisite for congregational resurrection? I suspect that many of us still deny the reality of chaos. If some of us do acknowledge the creative potential of chaos, then perhaps our answers to the two last questions are a half-hearted "yes." A pity. If only we could reply with a firm "yes," then we would be on the way to dis-covering the riches of our congregational mythology. The Church, and the world, would be richer for this discovery. In the beginning, when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless wasteland, and darkness covered the abyss . Then God said, "Let there be light. (Gn 1:1-3). NOTES ~ See Raimundo Panikkar, Myth, Faith and Hermeneutics: Cross-Cultural Studies (New York: Paulist Press, 1979). 2 See Paul Ricoeur, The Symbolism of Evil (Boston: Beacon Press, 1967), pp. 161ff, and Interpretation Theory: Discourse and the Surplus of Meaning (Fort Worth: Chris-tian University Press, 1976). Mythology, Revitalization and Refounding Religious Life ' See John L. McKenzie, Myths and Realities: Studies in Biblical Theology (London: Geoffrey Chapman, 1963), pp. 182-200. ' "Symbol, Myth and the Biblical Revelation" in Theological Studies. Vol. 27, No.l, 1966, p. 1. ~ Lawrence Cada, Raymond Fitz, et al., Shaping the Coming Age of Religious Life (New York: The Seabury Press, 1979), p. 6. 6 Morton T. Kelsey, Myth, History and Faith: The Demythologizing of Christianity (New York: Paulist Press, 1974), p. 5. 7 Thomas Fawcett, The Symbolic Language of Religion: An Introductory Study (London: SCM Press, 1970), p. 101. 8 See Barbara Sproul, Primal Myths: Creating the Worm (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1979), p. I. 9 Morton T. Kelsey, op. cit., p. 4. Also see Elie Wiesel, "Myth and History," in (ed) Alan M. Olson, Myth, Symbol and Reality (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1980), pp. 20-30. ~o See Bronislaw Malinowski, Magic, Science and Religion, and Other Essays (Glencoe, Illinois: Free Press, 1948), pp. 100f. " See Donald A. MacKenzie, The Migration of Symbols and Their Relations to Beliefs and Customs (New York: AMS Press, 1970), p. 5. '2Psychological Reflections: An Anthology of Writings, (ed) Jolande Jacobi (New York: Harper, 1953), p. 314. t~ See C.S. Kirk, Myth: Its Meaning and Functions in Ancient and Other Cultures (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1970), pp. 275-280; and Percy S. Cohen, "Theories of Myth" in Man: Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute Vol.4 No.3, 1969, p. 340. " Victor Turner, "Myth and Symbol" in International Encyclopedia of Social Sci-ences (Assen: Van Gorcum, 1977), Vol. 10, p. 579. ~ See (ed) Richard Cavendish, Mythology: An Illustrated Encyclopedia (New York: Rizzoli 1980), pp. 10f. For Freudian view see O. Rank, The Myth of the Birth of the Hero (New York: Robert Brunner, 1952), passim. ~6 See P. S. Cohen, op. cit., p. 341. ~7 See Richard Cavendish, op. cit., p. i !. ,8 Totemism (Boston: Beacon Press, 1963), p. 104; also Myth and Meaning (New York: Schocken Books, 1979), passim. For critique see Edmund Leach, The Struc-tural Study of Myth and Totemism (London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1967), passim. ~ See Victor Turner, The Ritual Process: Structure and Anti-Structure (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1969), pp. 96f. 2o Quoted in A.W. Reed, Treasury of Maori Folklore (Wellington: A.H. and A.W. Reed, 1963), p. 19. 2~ For overview, see B.C. Sproul, op. cit., pp. 5ft. "2The Sacred and the Profane (New York: Harcourt, 1959), p. 95. 23 See Leonard J o Biallas, Myths, Gods, Heroes and Saviors (Mystic, CT: Twenty- Third Publications, 1986), p. 24. 2, See B. Malinowski, op. cit., pp. 100f. ~ See L.J. Biallas, op. cit., pp. 258-282. 26 See Christel Lane, The Rites of Rulers: Ritual in Industrial Society -- the Soviet Case (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1981), passim. ~7 See T. Fawcett, op. cit., p. 98. 42/Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1987 '" Ibid, p. 277. '" Ibid, p. 98. .,0 See Victor Turner, "Myth and Symbol," op. cit., p. 576. ~' 7 Jan. 1985, p. 26. '~" Ibid, p. 20. See insights also by Christopher E Mooney, Religion and the Ameri-can Dream: The Search for Freedom Under God (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1977), pp. 17-60. ~ lbid, p. 23. ~' See lan Craib, Modern Social Theory: From Parsons to Habermas (Brighton: Wheat-sheaf, 1984), pp. 115-119. According to The New York Times (14 July 1985) Rambo was invoked at least a dozen times in the discussion on the aid to Afghanistan. Also comments in The Economist (UK), I I Jan. 1986, p. 12. '~ See T. Fawcett, pp. 52-54. .,6 V. Turner uses the expression "root paradigm." See hnage and Pilgrimage in Chris-tian Culture: Anthropological Perspectives (New York: Columbia University Press, 1978), pp. 248f. 37 See L.J. Biallas, op. cit., p. 20. 3, Op. cit., pp. 100f. '~ Op. cit., p. 95. ~0 See B.S. Sproul, op. cit., pp. 27f. ~ Ibid. ,2 See Andrew M. Greeley, The Jesus Myth (New York: Doubleday, 1971), p. II and passim. ~ See Lumen Gentium, par. 44. ~" A Gospel Path: The Religious Life (Brussels: Lnmen Vitae 1975), p. 101. ,s Ibid, p. 94. ,6 Followers of Christ: The Religious Life and the Church (Exeter: Burns and Oates, 1978), p. 12. ,7 See Raymond Hostie, S.J., The Life and Death of Religious Orders': A Psycho- Sociological Approach (Washington, DC: Cara, 1983), pp. 252-272. ~ Western Society and the Church in the Middle Ages (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1970) p. 237. '~ The Religious Orders in England, Vol.3, The Tudor Age (Cambridge: University Press, 1959), p. 198. so "Vatican II and the Church's Response" in Theology Digest Vol. 32, No. 4, 985. ~' See R. Hostie, op. cit., pp. 248,251,269-275. Also G.A. Arbuckle, "lncultura-tion and Evangelization: Realism or Romanticism?" in (ed) Darrell L. Whiteman, Missionaries, Anthropologists and Cultural Change (Williamsburg: Studies in Third World Societies,1985), pp. 176-186. s2 See G.A. Arbuckle, "The Evolution of a Mission Policy: A Case Study (Marist Fathers)," in Missiology, Vol. 14, No. 2, 1986, pp. 131-145. s.~ See G.A. Arbuckle, "Refounding Congregations from Within: Anthropological Reflections," in REview Fo~ R~.~.l~ous, Vol. 45, No. 4, pp. 538-553. ~' See Francis, E. George, O.M.I., "Founding 'Founderology'," in R~vmw For~ R~t6~oos, Vol. 36, No. I, 1977, pp. 40-48. ' ~s For discernment explanation see John C. Futrell, S.J., "lgnatian Discernment" in Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits, St. Louis, April, 1970. Spirituality of Jesuits, St. Louis, May, 1982, passim. Mythology, Revitalization and Religious Life/43 ~ See Magic, Science and Religion, op. cit., p. 101. ~" See comments by R. Hostie, op. cit., pp. 257ff. See helpful insights by John W. Gardner, Self-Renewal: The Individual and the Innovative Society (N.Y.: W.W. Norton, 1981), pp. xi-xviii and passim. ~o Johannes B. Metz, Poverty of Spirit (N.Y.: Paulist, 1986), p. 46. 6~ R.A. MacKenzie, S.J., Faith and History in the Old Testament (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1963), pp. 63f. 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 - Cruciform Obedience Price: $1.75 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St, Louis, Misso~Jri 63108 Images of a Novice Director Melannie Svoboda, S.N.D. Sister Melannie Svoboda became novice director after receiving her Masters in "For-mative Spirituality" from Duquesne University. She may be addressed at Notre Dame Educational Center; 13000 Auburn Road; Chardon, Ohio 44024. For the past four years I have been novice director for my religious com-munity. During these years I have often reflected on what my ministry means to me. I have also shared with other directors our ideas and feelings about our unique role in community. This article is an outgrowth of that personal and shared reflection. It attempts to explore the question, "How does it feel to be a novice director today?" In doing this, I have resorted to the use of images. Although there are many images I could have selected, I have chosen four that I feel convey something essential about the role of novice director. I hope these images provide encouragement for others involved in forma-tion work. I also hope the ideas presented here might help those not directly involved in formation to a better understanding of this ministry. The In-Between Door The first image that comes to my mind when I think of my ministry is "the in-between door." Let me explain. In our provincial house the novitiate is located on the third floor. On that same floor is another wing called St. Anne's where many of our elderly and retired sisters have their bedrooms. Between the novitiate and St. Anne's is a set of double doors. One day, after recreation with the novices, I passed through those doors on my way to another part of the building. As I did, I passed two elderly sisters who were on their way to their rooms. One was using a cane; the 44 Images of a Novice Director/45 other was holding on to the railing along the wail. The sharp contrast between the novices and these elderly sisters struck me. I suddenly thought: being a novice director is a lot like being a door between two very different wings of the same building. In other words, I realized that a novice director is very much an "in-between person." Age wise, many of us directors do stand "in between" the younger and older members of our communities. Ministry-wise, we stand "in between," too. As members of our community, we bring to our ministry years of lived experience as religious. We have a sense of our com-munity's history and traditions, its successes and apparent failures, its struggles and joys, and its hopes and expectations for the future. On the other hand, as directors we come to know the novices well. We learn of their personal histories, their past successes and failures, their struggles and joys, and their hopes and expectations for the future. Thus, we stand "in between." As directors, we are aware of our respon-sibility to communicate to the novices what religious life is in general and how our particular community gives expression to that life. But we also sense a corresponding responsibility, to a certain extent, to convey to the larger community who the new members are and what they are bringing to religious life. Such an "in-between position" can be both painful and exciting. It can be painful because it has its own built-in tension. As novice directors, we sometimes feel "caught in the middle" or even "torn apart." We find ourselves thinking or saying to our fellow religious: "If only you could see how much the novice is struggling with right now, how much goodwill there is in her, you would be far more patient and understand-ing." Similarly, we find ourselves saying to our novices: "If only you could appreciate more what we have gone through as a community and what we have experienced in the past, you would not be so quick to judge." But being "in between" is exciting, too. As novice directors, we have a unique perspective on religious life. Many times we may be asked to explain or defend what the novices may or may not be doing. Like-wise, we may be asked to explain or defend the traditions and attitudes of the professed community. We can welcome this "in-between-ness" since it affords us the challenge to reassess continuously our values and priorities or simply to articulate our beliefs anew. The Big "Meannie" Several years ago I was teaching film study to high school seniors. One day a film arrived addressed to me. But there was a typing error on 46/Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1987 the label. The letter "!" had been left out of my name, so instead of saying Sister Melannie the label read Sister Meannie. I laughed at that mistake back then, but, since becoming novice director, I have sometimes felt that I had been changed from Sister Melannie to Sister Meannie. Another novice director echoed this same feeling when she said to me recently: "I used to be a nice person. But since becoming novice director, I feel I've become an ogre." There are a number of factors that contribute to this feeling. Within the past several years there has been a movement in many religious com-munities to involve the larger community more in the initial formation pro-cess. Professed members have a greater sense of their personal responsibil-ity for welcoming and encouraging new members. Such a trend is basically very good. Like all of us, the novices need affirmation in order to grow, and today we see the larger community more and more provid-ing this affirmation. But the novices need to be challenged, too. They need to come to a healthy awareness of their weaknesses and shortcomings. Although the professed community does help out in this area, nevertheless, the primary responsibility for doing this lies usually with the director. One director explained it this way: "Novices are so few these days that sometimes the sisters bend over backwards to make the novice feel accepted. They do nothing but praise the novice -- I'm the one who has to tell her the things she doesn't want to hear." A few examples might clarify this. Perhaps a novice is lively and witty -- two characteristics that, in themselves, seem attractive. The pro-fessed might continuously affirm these qualities in the novice. But I, as director, might begin to see that the novice's liveliness reflects a deep need to be the center of attention. Her wit might reveal a lack of sensitiv-ity to the feelings of others. As director, I have to lead her to this aware-ness. That is hard to do. No one likes to bear bad news. No one enjoys confronting others on this level. But what makes it possible for us is to see such a confrontation within the context of love. Often I find myself asking the question; "Do I love her enough to be honest with her?" The Island In her Gift from the Sea, Anne Morrow Lindbergh writes (p. 40): '"No man is an island,' said John Donne. I feel we are all islands -- in a common sea." I agree with Lindbergh that we are all islands. But we novice directors can experience our "islandness" in very sharp and often painful ways. There are several factors that can contribute to the novice director's Images of a Novice Director/47' feelings of isolation. First, there's the simple fact that there are not too many novice directors to begin with. With the decline in the number of novices, there is a corresponding decrease in the number of directors. As a result, we directors have few "colleagues." This situation can lead to the feeling that no one really understands our unique stresses and frustra-tions. This sense of isolation can be intensified by the decisions we are called upon to make. Perhaps the most difficult decision in our ministry is the decision that a novice does not belong in religious life. Making such a decision, especially when there are so few novices to begin with, can increase a director's sense of aloneness or even rejection by the larger community. Fortunately there are steps we can take to ease our "islandness." In my diocese of Cleveland, for example, we formation directors meet regu-larly not only to plan our inter-novitiate program, but also to share ideas and experiences informally. There are regional and national organizations we can plug into as well as periodicals (such as this one) to which we can subscribe. Support groups are very popular today. Those of us involved in formation need such a support group in order for us to minister effectively and happily. The Gardener When I became novice director, I simultaneously began to grow some African violets. Perhaps something deep inside of me sensed a connection between ministering to novices and caring for plants -- I wasn't sure. But I received a few clippings from my mother and, within a relatively short time, I had a number of healthy looking violets. Now I know for sure: caring for these African violets is very similar to being a novice director. If there's one thing a good gardener knows, it's this: the gardener does not cause the plants to grow and flourish; he or she can only assist in their development. A good gardener is more observer than doer, more admirer than cause. The same is true for novice directors. Over and over again we have to remind ourselves that God is the formation director. We are mere assistants. This attitude of dependence and trust in God is not only fundamental for our ministry, it is refreshingly freeing. As directors, we can worry too much. We can become too impatient with a novice's apparent slow devel-opment. We may find ourselves saying: "She should be farther along by now," or "Prayer should mean more to him at this stage." Sometimes we can be tempted to intervene too much, to say too much, to control too much. Like a bad gardener, we may handle too much, water too much, Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1987 and fertilize tOO much, thus causing more harm than good. But our experience in formation soon leads us to trust more in God -- in his way, in his time -- than in our own expertise. One of the great-est joys as novice director is being privy to tremendous growth in our directees -- growth thht sometimes occurs not according to the "law," but even seemingly contrary to the "law." This truth was brought home to me recently by one of my "baby" African violets. When I started this plant from a cutting, I knew I would have to wait many months, perhaps even a year, before I could expect to see any blossoms. But this particu-lar African violet surprised me. After only several weeks, although its leaves were extremely tiny, this plant produced not one, but two giant purple blossoms. The plant, by all rules, was far too young and immature to produce such splendid flowers, yet, there they were, beautiful to behold. That "infant" African violet is a reminder to me that, as novice director, I have to be ready for surprises in my ministry. The in-between door, the big "meannie," an island, a gardener. These are four images that come to my mind when I reflect on my ministry as novice director. When we use images to try to explain the essentially unexplainable, we are in good company, for Jesus himself resorted to images time and time again: "The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed., is like a buried treasure., is like yeast., is like a drag-net thrown into the lake." I hope these few images I have used, though incomplete and imperfect, might help draw us more deeply into the mys-tery of our formation ministry. Prayer for Peace Give me to see, O Lord, By Faith's clear vision, Troth that to other sight at best is dim. Grant me to know, O Lord, By Love's deep wisdom, Peace in the Cross, Christ in the Sign of Him. Sister Cecilia Ward, S.C. Sacred Heart Convent-- 6225 Walnut Street Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania 15206 Surrender: The Key to Wholeness William A. Barry, S.J. This is Father Barry's third article on the theme of "a peculiar sort of resistance to God." He continues to work in the formation of novices and may be addressed at Saint Andrew House; 300 Newbury Street; Boston, Massachusetts 02115. In two recent articles' I have discussed a peculiar sort of resistance to God, a resistance that seems to be the avoidance of good experiences. Recently in a prayer group discussion I received some more light on this puzzling phenomenon which I would like to share with the readers of this review, z Have you ever wondered about people like Bartimaeus, the blind beggar who receives his sight (Mk 10:46-51)? Did it ever occur to you that they might not want to be healed? Well it has occurred to me because there have been times when I have not wanted inner healing -- the heal-ing of resentment at a personal loss, for example. As a result I have thought that people like Bartimaeus have a rather remarkable kind of courage and hope in the future to want to be healed. Let us reflect on what it must have meant for Bartimaeus as he pon-dered the question Jesus put to him, "What do you want me to do for you?" If he allows himself to want his sight, two possibilities open up. His hopes could be dashed if it proves impossible for Jesus to fulfill his desires. Often enough, I believe, we limit our desires precisely so that we will not be too disappointed. On the other hand, he could actually receive his sight. But what then? After all, he now has an identity that revolves around being a blind beggar. Who will he be if he is no longer blind? He knows how to cope with who he now is; he makes a living and he gets attention and perhaps even pity from others. How will he live as a sighted person? Suppose that a great deal of his vital energy is fueled 49 50/Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1987 by resentment of the trick life has played on him. What will it be like not to have that resentment? His friends will have to learn new ways of deal-ing with him as well. Indeed, they may not be willing or able to make the transition to relating to a man who is no longer handicapped. All of this may seem quite fanciful. Yet any counselor or spiritual director can testify that there is in us some power that is inherently con-servative, that wants the status quo to be preserved no matter how painful that status quo is. I may be between a rock and a hard place, but it is my rock and my hard place, and I know how to cope with the situation. Leaving it is very difficult, no matter how painful it also is to stay. Can we make sense of this difficulty that works against even desiring a change to something better? I have already pointed to one source of the difficulty. My identity can be wrapped up in my present status, whether that status is "blind beggar," "jil.ted lover," "bereaved husband," "unloved child," "unappreciated coworker," or whatever. To give up the identity may seem like giving up one's only self. Moreover, as already indicated, I have built up around this identity ways of coping with life, and even of earning a living. To change means to face an unknown, and perhaps worse future. There is, perhaps, a more subtle source of resistance as well. Freudian analysts speak of the covert gratification neurotic symptoms bring to the one who has them. There can be covert sexual and/or aggressive gratification, for example, in a wife's agoraphobia (fear of open spaces) because her husband has to stay at home more with her -- and also has to do the shopping. Suicidal people have been known to get gratification from the thought of making others guilty, miserable, even sick by their deaths. It may be that all of the status quos which we find so hard to give up provide some covert gratification. For example, Bartimaeus might well wonder whether anyone will pay attention to him if he is no longer blind. Again, to want to be healed of the resentment caused by a friend's hurtful remarks may mean that I will have to give up the covert hope that my friend is feeling pangs of remorse. We come close to the central insight I received at the prayer group. To want to be healed, to be changed, to become more whole means to surrender to life and to the future. The surrender involves two distinct, but interrelated movements, I believe. On the one hand, it means accept-ing my past as precisely what it is, my past. On the other hand, it means surrendering myself to the mystery of the future, ultimately to the Mys-tery we call God. We will look at each of these movements in turn. Bartimaeus must have accepted his past. He is a blind man, a blind Surrender: the Key to Wholeness beggar. He does not seem to wallow in resentment at what life has done to him; if he did, he would not have been able to ask so forcibly for his sight. To come to this point of acceptance he may have had to go through all the stages of grief described so well by Kubler-Ross.3 He may have denied his blindness, raged at it, at life, and at God, bargained with God, and become depressed. But now he has accepted that he is blind. And yet it is accepted as somehow past, as not controlling his freedom now, his freedom to desire a change. "Master, let me receive my sight." It is important to grasp the full impact of what it means for Bartimaeus, or anyone of us, to accept the past. It does not mean a stoic impassivity toward life. It does not mean a rosy optimism either. Life has dealt Bartimaeus a cruel blow, as it has dealt cruel blows to many people. Children have been subjected to abusive, unloving and unskilled parenting and have been psychically and spiritually scarred as a result. Loved ones have tragically and permanently been parted, and the surviv-ors are wounded deeply. To accept the past does not mean to condone everyone and everything. But it does mean to forgive in some deep way. SCren Kierkegaard makes a powerful statement while commenting on the biblical story of Tobias and Sarah. Recall that Sarah has become a mockery to her own maid because seven men had died on their marriage night to her. Now Tobias has asked to marry her. Many see Tobias as the hero. "No," says Kierkegaard: It is Sarah that is the heroine . For what love of God it requires to be willing to let oneself be healed when from the beginning one has been thus bungled without one's fault, from the beginning one has been an abortive specimen of humanity! What ethical maturity was required for assuming the responsibility of allowing the loved one to do such a daring deed! What humility before the face of another person! What faith in God to believe that the next instant she would not hate the hus-band to whom she owed everything!4 To accept the past as my past brings a freedom from it. But freedom does not mean that I am no longer the person that past has made me. Bartimaeus is who he is because he has been a blind beggar. So too, Sarah is who she is because of her.history of marriages. Another example is supplied by a response of a young man who was born a hemophiliac; at any moment of his life he could bleed to death from a simple cut. He was asked whether he wished that he had not had the illness. "How can I -- or anyone -- wish that the most important thing that ever happened to me had not happened? It is like saying that I wish I had been born on another planet, so different would I probably be. Put it this way: I would not have it any other way." 5 52/Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1987 And yet with this acceptance there also comes a freedom from the past. Bartimaeus is free of the imprisoning identity: "blind beggaL" Even if he does not receive his sight, he is free to become blind Bartimaeus the poet, or blind Bartimaeus the husband of Mary, or blind Bartimaeus the follower of Jesus. Just as the young hemophiliac can, by accepting his past, become a doctor, a teacher, a husband who also hap-pens to be hemophiliac. To accept the past as my past means to accept a future limited by my past, but nonetheless a future. Erik Erikson calls his final developmental stage the crisis between ego integrity and despair. Ego integrity or wisdom is described in this way: "It is the acceptance of one's one and only life cycle as something that had to be and that, by necessity, permitted of no substitutions: it thus means a new, a different love of one's parents."6 Such wisdom, Erikson maintains, leads, to freedom from the inordinate fear of death. And this may be the crux of th

Issue 21.4 of the Review for Religious, 1962. ; ALOYSIUS J. MEHR, O.S.C. Community Exercises in Religious Life Introduction: The Religious Community in Perspec-tive The religious communityx exists within two wider communities from which it draws its own unique vitality and significance. These two communities--forming one kingdom of God--are the Church and the total human world. Both are immeasurably deep and charged with dynamism; and we cannot arrive at an adequate grasp of the significance of community exercises in religious life unless we see the posture of our own particular commu-nity within these two great communities which are great covenants, the covenant of creation and the cove-nant of Christ. The religious community, however, is not related to the Church and the world only extrinsically as though these formed some kind of background or framework out-side of the community. Kather, the religious community exists at the point of encounter between two great lines of force and destiny which are the Church and the world. Its being calls out to the total human Community from which it arises and in whose service it acts; and its being is a response, deep and creative, to the call of the Word of God. The religious community sums up, symbolizes, and is an eikon of the human community and of the Church. The religious community, therefore, arises from the depths of creation, from the depths of life, lost in the eons of the life's growth itself.2 We carry on the work of crea- 2 This paper was written for and delivered at the international convention on Crosier spirituality held at Maaseik, Belgium, July 24-26, 1961. It has been revised so as to make it applicable to re-ligious communities in genera!. 2 Teilhard de Chardin, The Phenomenon of Man, translated by. Bernard Wall (New york: Harper, 1959); The Divine Milieu, trans-lated by Bernard Wall (New York: Harper, 1960). Hans Urs yon 4. 4. Aloysius J. Mehr, O.S.C., is on the faculty of Crosier House of Studies, Route 1, Wallen Road, Fort Wayne 8, Indiana. VOLUME 21, 1962 30! 4" Aloysius Mehr, O.~.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS tion, converging, as Teilhard sees it, to a kind of world unity in which all things are synthesized into community,a The direction of the history of life has moved through phases of biology ("biogenesis") into the world of incar-nate spirits ("noogenesis"); and in the New Covenant this force is caught up in the moment of the Resurrection, present among us as a pledge of the final entry into the glory of the Lord (kabod Yahweh). Our community-being, our being-together (Mitsein in Heidegger's termi-nology) is thus wrapped up in the forces and destinies of life, surging on in space-time towards its fullness, the seed of which it carries in itself at the present. Moreover, our community-being is also wrapped up in the fulfillment of creation, the new creation in Christ who draws all to the parousial and paschal destiny of all creation--a destiny that is already sacramentally present in a community called together in the Eucharistic sacrificial meal. These are undoubtedly far-reaching and difficult themes the full significance of which will always remain inaccessible to us, lost behind the veil of the future and the inscrutable destinies of man in the divine plan. We must expect, then, that any discussion of the religious community must, in its ultimate significance, shadow off into mystery. We shall not be able to lay out the forces in us as problems which can be solved, here and now, once and for all times. Community-being is essentially dynamic: we, as men and as religious, are homines vi-atores. Our fellowship in God is an eikon--an image, a sign, a symbol--of the Church localized in our areas of concern, but the Church which is the people of God on the march (in via), creating (in/ieri) what we most deeply are unto fullness in Christ who fulfills all in all (Eph 1:23; Jas 1:18). From this viewpoint we are able to see, or rather to begin to see, the profound significance of community exercises. Community exercises are the historical and temporal incarnations of our being-together (Mitsein). There is a deep and vast need, truly an ontological need, a need arising from our being-together, for authentic community activity that emanates from the inexhaust-ible fullness of our being.4 What we are demands suc-cessive real-ization; our being overflows into our life. Activity, operatio, exercise--these are not on some pe-riphery of the real, bu~ rather incarnations in the fabric of the real world. Man is embodied soul and besouled body. His existence is incarnate existence, caught up in Balthasar, Science, Religion, and Christianity, translated by Hilda Graef (London: Bums and Oates0 1958). s Teilhard develops this theme in The Phenomenon of Man: ~ Gabriel Marcel, Homo Fiator, translated by Emma Crawford (Chicago: Regnery0 1955), p. 26. solidarity with the corporeal universe but transcending it as spirit.5 Human being demands expression; as in-carnate, it is essentially temporal, basically historical, realizing itself further and more fully in successive and authentic encounters with the real--in the mysteries of birth, death, conversion, sickness, and above all, love.~ This paper is, first of all, a re-investigation of certain societal universals--relationships of persons which are the anthropological, sociological, and theological binding forces which help to produce a healthy and fruitful com-munity. The term "relationship" will be used more fre-quently than "community exercises" or "community ac-tivities." This, however, should not confuse the reader. An activity has social implications and social value if it is a relationship to others. The fact, therefore, that we will not group our material under the usual headings like "prayer life" or "recreations" or "the apostolate" should not tempt the reader to conclude that we are not speaking of things usually thought of as "community ex-ercises." We will speak primarily about the unifying forces, the community-building potential of community exercises, whether these be a simple conversation, a rec-reation, the Mass, superior-subject relationships, pro-fessional relationships of instructors with students, or even the exercise of talent in a "private" way within the community. It would be wrong to see as binding forces only those activities in which all of us perform the same movements or say the same words. On the other hand, community and society can hardly exist where there is no mutual a.ctivity, no common involvement of all the members in some fruitful, meaningful task. Finally, this analysis of communal activities precisely in their unifying value views the religious community in its objective, intersubjective, and Christian dimension. Part I: Community in Social Patterns To an anthropologist7 a very significant characteristic of the monastic community is that it is a celibate, reli-giously oriented institution'. This is without precedent or parallel in primitive or preliterate culture. In general, as the society becomes progressively complex,, certain indi-a Von Balthasar .develops this theme in his book Science, Religion, and Christianity. e Gabriel Marcel, The Philosophy O] Existence, translated by 4. Manya Harari (New York: Philosophical Library, 1949)', p. 6. 7The Reverend Alphonse Sowada, OiS.C., received his master's degree in anthropology from the Catholic University of America, Community Washington, D.C., in the spring o[ 1961. In an interview with the Exercises Reverend Ronald Kidd, O.S.C., he initiated in outline form the following analysis of the monastic community based, on anthropo-logical procedure. Father Sowada is'presently working in the New Guinea Mission, VOLUME 21, 1962 3O3 ÷ ÷ ÷ Aloysius Mehr, O$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 3O4 viduals are set aside solely for religious activity. Hence the phenomenon even of the Israelitic priestly office, given to the tribe of Levi, suggests a somewhat highly developed social complexus. Furthermore, sexual prac-tices become restricted for religious specialists only in civilized, cultured society. The religious community, com-bining both factors, arises only late in the development of a people. This unique development suggests various problems: a separation from the elemental and primitive social binding forces, perhaps a tendency towards over-com-plexity and hyper-specialization, in general, a danger of an ever greater artificiality. Man-to-Nature Relationships The ecological system comprises the sum total of the man-to-nature relationships in a given social organiza-tion. It comprises all the activities by which these people make a living--how they satisfy their elemental needs from nature. Thus, the supplying of food, the manufac-ture of clothing, the realm of technology, and attendant organizations and belief are .elements in an ecological system. In primitive societies, these are the concern of everyone; social organizations and belief patterns (treated in the following sections of this paper) arise from this common involvement in wresting an existence from na-ture. The ecological system forms the foundation for the actual social forms of the people. In the religious community, participation in this basic, elemental social activity is often frustrated. The general pattern is the specialization of ecological functions; they are more often than not entrusted to a few--the prior,,;, procurators, and other superiors. As a result, the remain-ing members of the community lack this elemental bind-ing force with one another and with the community as a whole. This can easily lead to frustration, complacency, and eventually create parasites within the community, In this connection it should be noted that the work of those religious who are engaged in manual labor almost exclusively is much more in line with the needs expressed in an ecological system, provided that they are truly a part of the community in which and for which they work. In order to utilize this natural, social binding force, these religious must feel themselves solidly within the whole community. They should experience the same satisfaction that the son or daughter enjoys when they begin to co-operate with their parents in providing a livelihood for the family. The social bindings formed by the ecological system are intense and deep. For the clerical and teaching members of a community, there is also a need for an acceptable way either to fulfill this function or to find an adequate substitute. The apostolate might seem like a perfect substitute. But in the apostolate the results are apt to be too far distant for the immediate kind of satisfaction caused by common involvement in providing the basic necessities of life. In fact, where superiors or subjects try to make' apostolic work an "acceptable" sublimation, the very 'remoteness of results can tend precisely to create further frustration and complacency. '~ In general, any project in which personal initiative is called into play within and for the community and in which a sense of fulfillment can be forthcoming ~can be used as a substitute. Such projects are of great value in binding together the religious,community. Stress should be placed°especially on the matter of results; for example, graduation, profession, and ordination days should be planned wisely to be days of community joy in accom-plishment rather than of relief in being through with tedious work. Although effective substitutes depend on both subjects and superiors, it is the superiors, above all, who must see the absolute need for them. Individual ~religious may have the initiative to make valuable .suggestions, but :the only person who can integrate these suggested projects into the community and give them their full social force is ,the superior. Without due attention, the community moves towards increasingly artificial social forms, lacking and attempting to substitute for, the basic level of social solidarity. In order to have a healthy community, we must find effective and meaningful substitutes. Man-to-Man Relationships Next, we deal with interpersonal relationships, en-compassing social ability and practice, questions of status and hierarchy in the communal organization, questions of law regulating interpersonal behavior, family orienta-tion, pressure groups, informal and formal groupings. This is the area of personal response and personal: activ-ity~ phenomena that vary with,each individual. Consid-eration of the interpersonal relationships are of 'utmost importance in analyzing the social structure of a com-munity; they form the operative and dynamic structure of society. Perhaps the most evident charact~eristic of interpersonal relations within the religious community is its thorough structure ot control. First of all, everyone knows every-one else and every individual can control his response thereby. Moreover, the social control within our unique form of community is almost familial or patriarchal. This is a good basis for developed social organization. In a healthy community a person is a part of things, 4. + + Community Exercises VOLUME 21, 1962 305 ÷ Aloysim OM.e~h.Cr., REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS he knows what is expected of him, he is not bewildered or lost within the crowd. He is at home, he knows how to approach everyone else, he knows how to regulate topics of conversation, to account for individual differ-ences, to accept the particular interests of the other mem-bers of the religious society. He enjoys that ecce quam bonum feeling which is a natural result of being [ul_ly ac-cepted by the group. He belongs to them, uncondition-ally; they are happy to have him and would be distressed at losing him. As. a further consequence, he feels shel-tered, contented, and can gradually abandon all his poor little defensive mechhnisms as well as the defects of. char-acter which necessitate them. All his potential gifts can flower, he can. give himself up confidently to his most generous aspirations. Such. :are the blessings which accrue to an individual who lives in a healthy group definitely ready to accept him.s There are, however, definite dangers in our communal make-up. The first and perhaps most serious danger is that of artificiality--artificially controlled responses. To the extent that responses become too automatic, too pat, too set, too taken-for-granted, the very situation which ought to promote solidarity could conceivably destroy it. Responses must be genuine; meaningless responses are detrimental to community. The artificiality of community llfe can be much re-lieved by warm parental and fraternal relationships be-tween superiors and subjects, instructors and students, and, above all, between equals. This fosters the character formation that ordinarily occurs within the family. Con-sequently, everyone must take his role in community seriously; he must be open, understanding, sympathetic, and avoid meaningless responses and inflexibility policy in the name of functional efficiency. Professors ought to be aware of the fact that attitudes built up by personal relationships with students are as important as the material being taught. On the other hand, students must realize that they have much to learn and that their attitude towards their instructors is extremely important. Entering. into dialogue is always a two way street. Within the community deep and authentic friendships should be fostered, for personality grows in proportion as it is opened to others. Fear of friendship shatters munity and leaves only a group of isolated introverts living in the same building. Mistaken notions of partic, ular friendship have forced many a religious to lead an unnecessarily lonely life. Authentic friendship means that I am genuinely con-e Communal Lile, translated by a Religious of the Sacred Heart (Westminster: Newman, 1957), p. 267. cerned with my neighbor as a person. When interest is only pretended, people instinctively feel that they are be-ing treated, not as human beings, but as a case, an object, an It. Make-believe interest, pharisaical interest does more harm than good. Every Christian, and certainly every religious, should be conscious of the manyreasons why he should be deeply and genuinely interested in his neighbor in all places and at all times. Another danger in our communal make-up presents it-self where subjects refuse to cooperate with their supe-rior, or where incapable men are invested with status-power. In primitive tribes, subjects who refuse to work with their superior are simply eliminated. Moreover, a leader who blunders in personal relations or in tribal projects, for example, failing to bring off a hunting raid successfully, loses prestige ipso facto. But in our com-munity, the social status of the members is not easily changed. This has its advantages and disadvantages. More permanent social relationships can be formed so as to .give the individuals a greater security and to give the social order a basic stability. On the other hand, where poor relat!onships are formed, this situation too tends to perpetuate itself. Overspecialization is another factor which endangers solidarity in a community. Anthropologists distinguish between diversification, which can lead to mutual de-pendence and promote solidarity, and specialization, in which a member withdraws himself from the community in order to devote his time and energies to some partlc-ular field. In primitive societies, specialists share perforce a vast number of tribal interests: the medicine man is interested in the buffalo hunt and thereby enjoys a social binding to the hunters; he is involved in wars and raids since his status to some extent depends on a perpetuation of the present social organization. In general, in primitive cul-tures, bindings between religious functions and the re-mainder of tribal functions are very strong. But when society develops, it tends to free itself more and more from nature (the ecological system); and it does so only to become more and more dependent upon man and man-to-man relations. This dependence must serve as a constructive and not a destructive force. In order to prevent diversification--which is absolutely necessary in a complex society--from becoming special-ization, we must manifest and recognize on a community level our mutual dependence; for example, the very real dependence of one teacher upon all the others. Here we see the importance of faculty meetings in which the par-ticular field of competence of one person is seen as com-plementing that of another. There are many ways of Community Exercises VOLUME 21, 196Z ÷ ÷ ÷ Aloysius Mehr~ O.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS keeping different interests and fields of competence from becoming divisive. Perhaps greater stress should be placed on the apostolate as a community apostolate, a common effort, accomplished in different ways by each individual, but without thereby becoming any less communal in in-spiration, motivation, and reality. An awareness of our mutual dependence is absolutely necessary for the proper integration of personal activity towards our social goals. Interpersonal relationships in the religious community include not only individual-to-individual relations but also those of groups.-A formal grouping is one which is established de [acto and is recognized by the society as exercising a certain control of the whole. Chapters, councils, a faculty, special committees for accreditation, and so forth are all formal groupings. Informal groupings are not officially set up or estab-lished. We see examples of informal groupings during common recreation periods or when some religious work together informally as a group. Informal groupings can at times exercise more influence than the formal group-ings; that is especially true if the formal groupings are inoperative or if the i.nterrelationships between formal groupings is neglected. It is in the informal groupings that public opinion is formed and in many cases social innovation begins. The informal groupings should pro-vide much of the initiative and dynamism necessary for any society to be alive, to grow and develop, and to keep in touch with the members and their real needs and as-pirations. While informal groupings are very important, formal groupings are even more important in a religious com-munity; ours is by its nature a hierarchical society, and one strongly so. Therefore the effective functioning of our formal groupings is especially important for the vi-tality of the entire community. Inoperative formal group-ings, or artificiality in formal ,groupings, invites seg-mentation of the society, then disintegration, and finally demoralization. The history of the American Indian is an extreme case of precisely this. Factors leading to inoperative formal groupings are many. Among them are age differences, lack of precise definitions of ideals, and immaturity. For a well-function-ing community, superiors-,must be willing to present straightforward proposals to their councils or others' whose advice they are to seek. This means the full pres-entation of real cases that involve discussion and choice, not simply decisions for'ratification.9 In short, he must seek to collaborate. Also, he must have the humility and wisdom to consider minority positions; seeking support Ibid., pp. 270-273. only in numbers infallibly excites mistrust, resentment, opposition, or utter indit~erence. "The prudent and most efficient thing for the superior to do is to make the group share, from the beginning, in the common task.''1° Cooperation between formal and informal groupings is of the essence in achieving a healthy, vital c0mmufiity. This means that we must understand the roles which these groups are to play within, the community. More-over, since the religious community is so strongly hier-archical and the superior tO a large extent controls the interrelationships between formal and informal group-ings, he should be doubly alert, astute, and comprehend-ing in regard to the ideas generated in the informal groupings.Suspicion on the part of a superior is harmful to the vitality of the community, kills personal initiative, and tends again to artificial substitutions and the seg-mentation of the community fabric. But beyond this a superior must have the ability to select appropriate ideas from the informal groupingsmthose ideas which will prove beneficial to the community. It is difficult to re-spect a superior who accepts every suggestion that is of-fered to him or proves that he does not have the ability to choose well. In a primitive society he would in that eventuality lose status. Man-to-Ideals Relationships Under this heading we find community purpose and sense of purpose. In primitive society religion ferments the whole society. And certainly community goals, re-ligious ideals, can and should be important unifying fac-tors in a religious community. It is worthy of note here that in primitive ~ociety where the satisfying of the basic needs has such a prominent role, the upper echelons tend to have the same ideals as those of lower status, the .young as the old, the specialists as those engaged in community projects. When the eco-logical needs become less urgent and the man=to-man relationships more important, it becomes more difficult for all to have the same ideals. But the religious commun-ity should be able to realize this unity of ideals in a way that other communities in contemporary life cannot. In a religious community we-ness will tend to be established by living according to a unique set of ideals--provided the ideals are well defined. Our fellowship, as we will see later, is a unique fellowship in Godl For social vitality and solidarity, it is better to define ideals clearly and energetically and then, as the need arises, to modify them than not to define them at all or to define .them haphazardly or casually. Searching for Ibid., p. 270. 4" 4" CEoxm~misuensity VOLUME 21, 1962 309 4. 4. dloysius OM.Se.hCr,., REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ideals has little social result. Without well-defined, known, and accepted objectives, ideals will be fashioned individually and in groups; this leads directly to com-munity segmentation. In this situation, the very factors which in a healthy social organization cause solidarity and vitality have the el~ect instead of segmenting the community. Ideals must and will be formed. If the proper formal grouping will not define them, it is inevitable that informal groupings will attempt to fill this lack. Community goals and ideals, however, cannot be al-lowed to stagnate. Once they have been defined, they must be re-defined as social changes and new needs make themselves felt. In this sense, it is only by innovation that society can maintain its health and well-being. For these reasons, our ideals require constant modification and elaboration to insure their continued adequacy for the very real and growing society which they both reflect and form. Furthermore, wise inter-group relationships constitutd community dynamisms and insure that the social structures of the community are truly alive and' changing--that the incarnations of the community ideals are true responses to the appeals of the era and the per~ sons, that the community continues to be constituted through history in its response to the Word, that its voca-tion continues to be authentic. It is in this context that tradition possesses real meaning. One group, which is n.aturally the most capable of really fruitful effort in this direction, is the meetings oE the various spiritual directors on a regional or inter-national basis. Undoubtedly much good could be ac-complished by regular and well-prepared meetings of these spiritual leaders in each order or congregation. Each meeting should consist oE a series of scholarly papers followed by serious discussion. Here again, we should point out the grave responsibit-ity of superiors. Upon their shoulders must rest a good portion of the burden of keeping goals alive and develop-ing with the community itself. But this responsibility can-not be placed solely upon the superiors. For a society to develop, all should participate in the re-discovery of old ideals and the formation of new. Community is a "we"; its responsibilities are no less communal than the end which they serve. If a religious suffers from abnormal loneliness, an anthropologist would immediately look for some need which is neither being fulfilled nor et~ectively substituted for. Where such a condition exists, the man is not livit~g a whole life; and attempting to live a half life tends to-wards increasing frustration. The only effective remedy in such a case, according to anthropologists, is the real-istic integration of our activities by directing them mean- ingfully towards the specific and ,well-defined goals of our community. Any notable incidence of real loneliness will probably reveal upon careful .investigation some rupture in the social structure of the whole community-- whether ecological, man-to-man, or man-to-ideals, More-, over, from the fact that our society is in 'itself artificial to a certain extent (lacking almost necessarily the deep and elemental bindings of an ecological involvement), we must be doubly aware of the other unifying forces within our community. Part H: Community and Personal Creativity ~ Patterns of social organization are vital, without the slightest doubt. Much. of our actual failure to realize deeply and meaningfully fellowship with one another in a brother-to-brother relationship stems from the neglect or mismanagement of the social structure of our com-munity. Yet the religious community---even considered only as a deep community of men--is not simply cre-ated by experts. The expert manipulates, controls, studies problems, and finds solutions; but his union with his tools and the particular determined purposes of his craft is extrinsic. We can think in" this connection of the over-organiza-tion of working communes as they sprang upsince the last world war. Here, everything is functionalized--all the activities are planned out, with time alloted on the schedule for religion, recreation, and so forth, which are considered as necessary means for overhauling the ma-chine periodically. When people begin to see their lives coincide with the routines planned for them, when they see themselves and their own importance diminish to the level of cogs in a machine, their spirits harden, atrophy, and wither. Life becomes less than free in the sense that activities are not flowing from the deepest levels of being. They become re.ore and more a number in a filing system. This is no doubt an extreme case. But we must reso-lutely resist the temptation to reduce man simply to an aggregate of psychic functions and forget that he is a living soul. In my relations with the men in my com-munity, I am involved. My actions should not tend to build a wall of separation between the me I know myself to be and others. Given the thorough system of social con-trols characteristic of religious life, given too a life that is frequently arranged by my superiors, the most common temptation is to avoid reaching out in true personal ap-peal to the other in all his unique personality, but to see both him and myself as [unctions--a teacher, student, cook, carpenter, Mass-sayer (a cog in a machi'ne can never pray), a procurator, or sflperior. The conclusion we have been working towards is this: ÷ ÷ Community Exercises VOLUME 21, 1962 dloysius Meh~, O.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS community is not established by merely legislating laws, setting up a hierarchy of superiors.and subjects, or giving a dozen human beings a common residence. Nor can it be produced by a system' of techniques. Community must grow out of its members, for it is a highly personal gift of oneself to the other person in all the richness of his individuality. While techniques cannot produce community, they are nevertheless valuable in eliminating those things which could prevent community from happening; for example, enclosure within myself, being trapped, as it were, in a system of concentric circles which stand between me and my life. Furthermore, techniques are undoubtedly neces-sary for the effective accomplishment of particular, goals; for example, organizing a sports program requires some manipulating of people. But teamwork still remains a union based on something outside of the being of the other person;, while it may be a true degree of community, it is still not the fullness of human community, let alone: of fellowship in the word and love of God. "Community," Martin Buber .writes, '"is where com-munity happens.TM There is something in genuine meet-ing which extends beyond calculations, plans, and proj-ects. Just as my being is not definitely exhausted in any one particulai'ity of my life but overflows into promise and possibility,12 rooted in my existence and its destiny, so also the community is never definitely established, en-tirely a "given" factor, a.status; Community, the genuine union of beings, is created out of the depths of promise of my bei~ng. It is not pro-duced. Community is meeting; and that meeting which calls to the other from all that I am is essentially creative: something new happens, I become something that I was only potentially before, and in this connection I must think in terms of gilt or grace. I can remain open to re-ceive this gift of the other as long as I am not artificially isolated from my own being in a world of function; but somehow we are here in a realm in which the notions of cause and effect no longer apply with their full import--. I do not cause dialogue. Even more, in a very real sense, I am given to myself fully only in dialogue, in the gift of another self calling out to me, joining our lives in com-mon destiny and hope. "All real life :is meeting.''13 The energies of life become fully real only in community: [ am the possibility, even more, the promise of community in my most elemental reality as incarnate spirit. r~Between Man and Man, translated by Ronald Gregor Smith (Boston: Beacon, 1955), p. 31. '~ Marcel, Homo Viator, p. 26. ~ Martin Bub~r, I and Thou, translated by Ronald Gregor Smith (New York: Scribner's, 1958), p. 11. Hence community--and in a unique way, the religious community--fulfills a basic demand (exigence in French) of human being. The ability to say We, the possibility of genuine encounter presupposes beings who can love and give themselves to others, beings who are incarnati.ons of the spirit which man i~, a spirit embodied iia'spake.and time, in solidarity with the cosmos and the covenant of creation. The human spirit can be stifled for just so long--a time and a time and half a time of the Scrip-tures-- within the abstractions and reductions of a func-tionalized world which, we repeat, is a real danger in a religious community due to the artificiality and conven-tionalisms so easily developed in such a life. But in the well-chosen words of Gabriel Marcel, it seems, at least as far as man is concerned, tha~ even if life is weakened and in a way degraded, it must still retain a certain character of sacredness . We must accordingly realize, I think, that here we are faced with a~ certain absolute, and that this absolute must be assisted, however strong the temptation to resist it?' Man's spirit seeks the fullness of being, the fulfillment of its destiny.15 Even in the midst of degradation or open rebellion, the voice of his spirit calls out for authentic living. Rebellion is a call to another to answer my appeal, to respond, knowing that even if I fail, at least my call will go on being heard. Although many unfavorable things can be said about rebellion, yet we must admit that it is still authentic living. As Camus has written, "I rebel--therefore we are,''x~ In modern religious life, the danger is not primarily open rebellion. With us, frustration more frequently takes the place of rebellion. We begin with high ideals, but, after encountering many difficulties and meeting with many failures, it is easy for us to lose courage, to be-come despondent and frustrated. The principal cause of this frustration is the lack of understanding one's own abilities, strength, and weakness, Being frustrated, religious enclose themsdves within a shell of their own creation; they try to circumvent the full meaning of their vocation. Frustration is a flight from authentic living, and that is the reason why frus-trated religious try to escape and lose themselves in rou-tine or a ceaseless merry-go-round of activities. Here we see, or begin to see, the ontological.significance of frus-tration, despondency, and defense mechanisms--the psy- ~ The Mystery ol Being, translated by G. S. Fraser (Chicago: Regnery, 1950), v. 2, pp. 182-188. x~ Marcel, The Philosophy ol Existence, p. 4 a0Albert Camus, The Rebel, translated by Anthony Bower (New York: Vintage Books, 1959), p. 22. ÷ ÷ ÷ Community Exercises VOLUME 21, 1962 Aloydm 0M.$eh.~r., REV~EWFOR RELIG;OUS chological and sociological ruptures which prevent com-munity from happening. It is in this context that we propose to re-investigate the three relationships already viewed on the anthro-pological level: my relationship to things, to other peo-ple, and to ideals. Creative Community and Things 1. Art. In our mechanized world, things are considered more and' more as means, even pure means (bona utilia), apart from myself, only accidentally and, ontologically speaking, haphazz'rdly coming into contact with me. Their own values are, for me, simply utilitarian. I fail to see in them the mystery of creation in which I also am essentially involved. Art, beauty--these are simply esoteric tinsel, luxuries for the functional man. In a way this man is only half a man, and hence only half himself, begrudging those energies of life with which his created and corporeal being is essentially in communion.,x7 It would be almost meaningless to tell such a man that his activities are incarnations of his being, for he has denied any essential involvement in this universe of space and time.xs When I live out of harmony with myself and the deep community of creation in which I am, which 'is my world, my environment, my ontological context, how can I truly give myself to another? Furthermore, how can a com-munity that is out of harmony with creation be worthy of being presented to Yahweh in the Eucharistic assembly as the sign of His pleroma? The famous American painter, Ben Shahn, writes: I have always believed that the character of a society is largely shaped and unified by its great creative works, that a society is molded upon its epics, and that it imagines in terms of its cre-' ated things--its cathedrals, its works of art, its musical treas-ures, its literary and philosophic works. One might say that a public may be so unified because the highly personal experi-ence (of the artist) is held in common by the many individual members of the public. The great moment at which Oedipus in his remorse tears out his eyes is a private moment--one of deepest inward emotion. And yet that emotion, produced by art, and many other such private and profound emotions, ex-periences, and images bound together the Greek people into a great civilization, and bound others all .over the earth to them for all time to come.1D Art brings into play the unifying forces of creation but' at a deeper, more subjective, and thoroughly personal~ a~ Von Balthasar, Science, Religion, and Christianity, p. 45. a~Bernard Haring, C.SS.R., The Law o] Christ, translated by Edwin G. Kaiser, C.PP.S, (Westminster: Newman, 1961), v. 1, p. 87. ag Ben Shahn, Shape o] Content (New York: Vintage Books, 1960), pp. 45-46. level. Lacking a developed and fully shared ecological sys-tem, the religious-community unity depends on other re-lations to our world, activities of creativeness, ingenuity, activities which produce "results," or better, activities in which my being sees fruition in the corporeal world in which I am. The point is that we should not i~eglect the unifying force of art, the union of persons in the beauti-ful, in the shared experience of meaningful incarnation. But the attitude of encounter with the beautiful is not limited to what we call the fine arts. If I pick up a chisel, it is simply a tool which I use to perform some task. Con-sider, however, the difference when a highly skilled artist or carpenter picks up a chisel. His work expresses him-self, gives himself to the community. Here we return to the general theme of these 'pages: df community is to happ.en, I must give mysel[, and not simply offer the other some service which I perform. In art--from garden-ing to the liturgical setting--I give myself, I entrust to the community that deep and personal experience of creativ-ity. In accepting another's art, we "welcome" him. To welcome is active, personal, embracing. I go out of my-self to meet the other, to invite him to feel at home with me. We cannot merely accept the other's art, whatever it may be, as we accept the result of an assembly line. To accept his art, I must reach out and take his work into my own life; and by doing so I take him, too, into my life. And here again we glimpse a moment when com-munity happens. If a community does not accept the beautiful, it neglects an important binding force--a neglect which will tend to re-appear in personal encounters. Without the proper at-titude toward art, even the deep significance of liturgical symbolism and expression will lose some of the vitality which it was meant to have. The community chapel, above all, should be a masterpiece of art, expressing community, proclaiming the fellowship in God which we are. 2. Play. Finally, we should consider more deeply the meaning of play. Perhaps play is not the deepest of the arts, but it is a true creative expression of man.2° Play is of its nature public. "Through play we find ourselves no longer imprisoned and isolated in our own individual-ity.'' 21 Play "is act in its spontaneity, acting in its very activity, the living impulse.''~ As a vital phenomenon or manifestation of human being, play--to be genuine-- demands a man in contact with reality; "only the vital Eugene Fink, "The Ontology of Pla}'," Philosophy Today, v. 4 (1960), pp. 95-109. Ibid., p. 96. Ibid., p. 97. ÷ + ÷ Community Exercises VOLUME 21, 1962 315 4. 4" 4- A~oysius Meh~, 0.$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS being., can die, work, struggle, love, and play. Only such a being is in touch With surrounding reality and the total environment--the world.''u3 Humanplay . is a creation through the medium of pleasure of a world of imaginary acuv~ty . Play ~s always character, ized by an element of representation (something like the real world and its rules, but never degrading into routine). This element determines its meaning. It then effects a transfigura-tion: life becomes peaceful.~' In our own world, play is apt to be a highly organized, commercial project; and here again its mea'ning tends to become more and more functionalized---I play, not for delight, but in order to preserve physical and psychic health. If we would look for a moment at the primitive world, we would find far more significant contours: In the primitive times, play was not practiced so much as an act in its pleasure-giving aspect as is the case for those isolated individuals or groups who periodically detach themselves from the social group to inhabit their own little isle of passing hap-piness. Originally, play was the strongest unifying force. It founded a community quite different, it is true, from that of the living and the dead, the governing and the governed, and even from that based on the family. The community of play of primitive man included all the forms and structures of com-mon life., and it called forth a reliving of all the elements of life. This reached its high point in the community festival. The ancient feast., was a liturgical spectacle where man ex-perienced the proximity of the gods, heroes, the dead, and where he found himself in the presence of all the beneficent and dreadful powers of the universe . What was represented was nothing less than the whole universe.= Genuine play is extremely important in a religiou:; community. We will develop this point further in Part III where we will see that community recreation should serve as a catechesis of the proper celeb'ration of the~ Eucharistic festival--the Mass. Inter-personal Creativity: Intersub]ectivity Community exercises are significant only in as far as they involve an encounier with the Thou. This is the point, above all others, which we must remember. This is the heart of the matter. Divorced from all genuine en-counter with the Thou, community exercises are mean-ingless. In our very proximity, it is easy for me--because of routine, fatigue, and so forth---to consider my confrere less and less as a person (a Thou) and more and more ;ts an object (an It). An object is contained within itself, something which I can possess and manipulate. A person Ibid. Ibid., pp. 104-105. Ibid., pp. 105-106. is a being to whom I can call out, whom I can invoke, who is able to return my call, and in our response to each other create community. I can say "We." But to approach the other in his own unique being and destiny, in all that makes him himself, I myself must be a presence to him. Self-consciousness atrophies,, encloses me in .myself; we may be with one another physically and temporarily, but we have not yet realized Mitsein, that full union in love and welcome where deep calls out to deep. Without doubt, our lives and our encounters with one another tend to form stereotyped patterns. In accordance with our rule and constitutions,~l meet others at certain determined places and at set times. We are joined to-gether for specific purposes: prayer, recreation, work, in short, every conceivable type of community exercise. In a way there is constant community. I am very little in real solitude whether before God or before men. The students whom I teach in the classroom, the community for whom I cook or for whom I build cabinets, the confreres with whom I watch television--these are certainly beings with whom I exist; and even though I cannot speak of the re-ligious life as being entirely or ~even properly speaking functionalized, yet frequently there is something in the other which I am neglecting. P~r~haps 1 am polite and courteous: I smile at the other and laugh at his jokes; I try to understand his problems and offer him sympathy-- and still; perhaps, we stand more in juxtaposition than in community. But there are moments when this half-face to the 'world breaks down, hours of.grace (kairos.in St. John) in which the possibility of far deeper community is suddenly revealed. It is then that we see individuals in an entirely new perspective and their presence becomes more mean-ingful to us. A time of community crisis can draw us to-gether in this way, and we learn to depend on a confrere as he is, and not just in what he does---or better, what he does incarnates what he is. The world from which our candidates come has been well described as a broken world.20 This factor must be kept in mind while considering, the present-day prob-lems of religigus life. Older forms of unity have been gradually breaking down--the family, for instance, has been to a great extent replaced by the peer group, the gang, the more casual associations. Political and techno-logical unions have become strong~ r, suggesting a growth 'in world unity. But frequently, ~he new unions which have sprung up are on the impersonal plane; technol-ogy, for. example, unites the worlO" because cultural dif- ~ Marcel, The Mystery o! Being, v. 1; pp. 22-47. The title used for this chapter is "A Broken World." ~ 4. 4. 4. Community Exercises VOLUME 21, 1962 317 + Aloysius Mehr, O.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 318 ferences do not prevent a person from working a machine; in principle any one at all can learn this operation. But "any one at all," l'on,.das Man, does not exist. What exists are real people, individual, free beings, irreplace-able in the solitude of their liberty. In those moments of human existence in which I some-how transcend the world of mechanisms, I sense another dimension which I know to be more basic, and more real. I sense that there is something in myself and in the self of the other which is immanently private and which does not lend itself to concepts or superficial unifying or binding forces; this is unique subjectivity, the deepest level of per-sonal existence, that which constitutes me as I, the irreduc-ible core of personality, the shrine of what is most serious and authentic in me, the theatre of my eternal commit-ments. It is this dimension of mystery which constitutes the great distinction between persons themselves. Regardless of how close two persons may unite with one another, something of the other's.subjectivity will always evade the other: he may become a Thou for me, we may even speak with full force and meaning the word "We," but the other is always profoundly other than me. The We is precisely for this reason a miracle or the grace that it is. We can never be like two drops of water coming together to form a single drop. I may give myself deeply in love and hope to another, but he will always remain absent from me in some way and this hbsen~e is what makes him uniquely himself. But it is of the essence to note that the other is dis-closed to me in his full contingency only in those situ-ations in which we are genuinely open to one another. I can hardly speak of the mystery of subjectivity--the revelation of the other--without speaking of the mystery of intersubjectivity--the mutual revelation of both ofu~, which includes the gift of the other person to me. Here; we can speak more justly and fully of presence: presencel reveals a human dimension beyond that of proximity or even of sharing an experience, and this is the dimension of full encounter, coesse, of co-presence.~7 Presence is in its deepest reality co-presence. The structure of this situation is one of appeal and response. To meet another', I must call out to him, or welcome his appeal to myself by responding with my whole being, and not simply with a stereotyped, pre-determined response. When I speak to another, the area of mutual concern may be a purely business proposition; but if I welcome him into my life, if there springs up deep sympathy in the basic meaning of that word, we Roger Troisfontaines, S.J., De L'Existence a l'Elre (Louvain: E. Nauwelaerts, 1953), v. 2, p. 21. are to another something more than a billboard which announces the time of a community exercise or an IBM machine that reels off information. The question he asks me implies his faith in my ability to answer--my ability to stand, as it were, in his place and understand his question "from the inside.''2s" ~'The question, anyway, operates as an appeal, a signal that may or may not be received.''29 The appeal reaches me in my freedom. I may respond by being, for all practical purposes, some sort of information machine; yet in t~he course of our conver-sation, he becomes something more than a "somebody." "That is, he participates more a~d more in the absolute which is unrelatedness and we cease more and more to be 'somebody' and 'somebody e!se.' We become simply 'US.' "30 This is not merely a psychol~gical interpretation of emotional experience, for realistically speaking, "I cannot really invoke 'anybody'; I can only 'pretend~ to do so. In other words, it appears as if inv'ocation can only be ef-ficacious where there is communiiy.''al Truly, I can speak the word Thou to another only Where community is re-vealed, and we speak the word We.m This deep dimension of human reality reveals me to m~self; in my.deepest and freest being, I find the mystery Of intersubjectivity, the mystery of our solidarity in the destinies of the human phenomenon and the covenant of'creation. Although the sharpest mani[esthtion of this ontological community of men tends to be the somewhat dramatic events--birth, death, love, and go forth--which break in on our course of existence?3 still intersubjectivity runs in a scale from, for example, the chance smile of a stranger from whom I happened to ask directions in a city I am not familiar with to the union with one another in Ghrist in the Eucharistic assembly. Thi(. is important for com-munity life; by holding myself open to the other, by mak-ing myself available, by my. willingness to welcome him, entirely mechanical situations like asking a routine per-mission from my superior can be illuminated with a bit of the radiance of the truly significant. The deepest moments of intersubjectivity can act perhaps as beacons, reflecting that, unit most clearly and fully. As I enter the religious liie and make my pro-fession, the community kiss of peace manifests beautifully the community which has been created in me. This mo- ~ Gabriel Marcel, Metaphysical Journal, translated by Bernard Wall (London: Rockliff, 1952), p. 21. "Ibid., p. 143. ~ ~a I bIbidid.,, pp. 114761. ~ Ibid., p. 303. a Marcel, The Philosophy o] Existence, pp. 3-4. ÷ ÷ ÷ Community Exercises VOLUME 21, 1962 319 4. Aioysius Mehr, 0.$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ment, though past, can be kept alive, can remain a presence to me--a moment of deep community to which I bear witness in the day-to-day encounters. I know, deeply within myself, that these encounters, for all their routine, flow forth from the community which we are, the com-munity which must be ever renewed through the passing years in creative fidelity to the situations in which. I am given to myself as one whose life, in the religious com-munity, is a being-with. From this point of view, we can look more closely at the full meaning of the opportunities of our religious com-munity: The closeness in which we live with one another is dangerous if reduced to the level of the functional, but it can just as truly point out to us the heights and depths of intersubjectivity. Social bindings open out into onto-logical community. Religious community life is rooted in social organizations and patterns, but it exists on the level of the human person in his freedom. In conclusion, the activities of our religious life must reflect the deep fact of our community-being, of our being-with one another, sharing a common destiny, united in the bonds of true love in Christ, For the structure of intersubjectivity is in its fullness, the structure of love. But we must be willing to see the levels and the manifestatiom of this love dim from time to time, just as in marriage the union in love has its ups and downs. Nevertheless, I must be aware of my deep responsibility to make my-self what Louis Lavelle calls "accessible" and Gabriel Marcel "disponible" or "availabie" to the other. Marcel equates this accessibility with charity, and quite rightly so.34 This is the fundamental posture or attitude for any fruitful communication between men, a communication which means opening myself to the presence and in-fluence of the other, desiring this presence, and being will-ing to go out into something that is quite different from myself. The self-centered egoist finds it impossible to be accessible and available. He is incapable of sympathiz~ ing with other people or imagining their situation. "He remains shut up in himself, in the petty circle of his private experience, which forms a kind of hard shell round him that he is incapable of breaking through.''3G Handy rules for making encounter possible, while help-ful, cannot be used without the danger of taking up a position outside the encounter itself in order to manipulate both the other and myself.3e I can perhaps ~' Ibid., p. 15. ~ Marcel, The Mystery o/Being, v. 10 p. 201. a Dale Carnegie gives.many of these handy rules in his famous book How to Win Friends and Influence.People (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1936). The value of some of these rules is questionable because of their pharisaical tendencies. be more aware of what I cannot do--in summary, tO treat him as an object, as a somebody, as anyone at all, as a function (whether teacher., farpenter, or any o[ the categories that can substitute for the person). In dis-agreements, I must respect the gift, for the other gives himself to me in his ideas and intdrpretations; in com- ¯ munity we can seek not a Procru~stean compromise but a kind of common expectation so that together we can go on seeking the light of truth. Th~ very things which tear us apart from one another~differences in age, in taste, in talent, in personal history-~zan unite us, not in a collectivity where differences are ignored or frowned upon, but in a community of mu[ual understanding. Creativity and Community Ideals High ideals attract men; the. higher the ideals the greater the attraction. Ideals fire, men with enthusiasm. But ideals cannot be handed physically to me as, for in-stance, a book or the constitutions.' Ideals can be described on paper, but they cannot exist oh paper. They are real-ized only in free creativity at the ~ery depths of being. More particularly, the ideals of. a gommunity must be ideaIs for particular men. They must be possible of fulfill-ment in their unique life and in the unique situation which invites their loyalty andS,, faithfulness to them. Every religious must create, again and again, the tra, di-tions and ideals of his order or congregation .by incarnat-ing them anew in his own life. The passage of ideals to incarnate human life, to act and incarnation in space and time is truly creative, for it ~nvolves a full and personal gift of myself creating meaning. Bu~t this does not happen in a void, but rather in an encounter, or 'a revelation of what I am (in the community that we are) that calls forth my witness and fidelity. An e, ncounter means a call and a response; a gift and a pre~ence of another who confronts me in my uniqueness; a re'alization of the destiny which lies at the heart o[ myselL "In action," writes Teilhard, "I cleave to the creatlve~ power of God; I co-incide with it; I become not only its instrument but its living prolongation.''~7 In the words of Gabriel Marcel: We have to realize that there are modes o[ creation which do not belong to the aesthetic order, and which are within the reach of everybody and it is in so far as he is a creator, at how-ever humble a level, that any man at all can recognize his own freedom.~ In our context, this means that in my freedom I must ~ Teilhard de Chardm, The D:vtne Md~eu, pp. 26-27. m Gabriel Marcel, Man Against Mass Society, translated by G. Fraser (Chicago: Regnery, 1952), p. 16. 4. 4. 4. Community Exercises VOLUME 21, 1962 4. 4. 4. Alo~$ius OM~e.Ch~r., REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS respond to the unique religious vocation, which I have received from God, and that response is the truly creative assumption of the ideals, traditions, customs, and rules of my community. If I am to be a religious, and not merely act like one, I must enter into the living tradition of my community, see clearly the deep relationship be-tween law and reality (law in its deepest meaning in Christianity is the living out of our incorporation in Christ), and sense within myself the dynamism within the community, the promise of the future held in the hands of the present moment, the hour of trlal and grace. By translating the traditional ideals of my particular community into my life, I reach back into the very an. rials of history and, at the same time, proclaim that which is yet to come. I enter into living communion with the past and the future, with all who have professed, or will in the future profess, these ideals. Ideals seen in their' existent,_'al fullness are moments of consecration, joininl~ us with the ever-continuing history of our community. As Hiiring points out, History is to be viewed from the standpoint of the "now" in relation to beginning and end. The historic present reaches out into past and future. The past has its heritage which may be compared to the warp and woof of a rich fabric constantly redesigned into marvelously new and alluring shapes and formsi The treasure.is a summons or invitation, and a challenge as well, to the free will of man in the historic moment of the present.~ My response to this challenge wiaps up the rich her-itage of my order in the dynamism of my unique, per-sonal life, and.hands it as a sacred trust to the community, enriched, for future generations. By thus entering deeply into the We, and sharing together, feeling together in our deepest being the subtle movements and aspirations which translate possibility into act and thus tradition into life, and being into incarnations, I realize existentially arid not only notionally or rationally both the being which I am called to be and the significance of the union of men who have joined their own destinies together in respond-ing to the same ~hallenge. But just as we cannot understand man until we see his marvelous destiny, so we cannot begin to see the beauty and mystery of our community until we view it in its promise, in its dynamic growth and activity towards fullness. The religious community, as we pointed out in the introductory pages of this paper, exists within two wider communities--the community of life and t'J~e community of grace--from which it draws its own vital- The Law o] Christ, v. 1, p. 87. ity and life-thrust. In either Community, our destiny is not encompassed by the immediate projects, particular ends, or temporary goals. Our being plunges back into the dynamisms of created being itself; and in us the world achieves a certain completion of its own dest!ny. We are then a kind of particular and contingent, though nonetheless real, summation or symbol or eikon, image, of the community of all being. But the deepest values of our activity do not only capitulate in us the mystery of creation and the dy-namisms of life. As Teilhard would phrase it, ontogenesis has passed on into Christogenesis. Creation has been caught up, in its deepest dynamisms, into the new cre-ation, which is fulfillment, not destruction (Eph 2:15). As a community within the Church, and indeed its true eihon, its incarnation, we continue the forces of creation through the Incarnation and the New Adam into the promise and pledge of the Parousia (1 Cor 15:24). In this perspective, or better in this divine milieu, lies the true significance of our activities; we are bound together under a common cause which is as wide and deep as the community of men and as transcendent in its promise as the parousial presence in which life and temporality shall be consummated in the supreme en-counter of love. Seen in this light, we must modify our earlier thesi~ about the artificiality of the religious community. Adapt-ing Teilhard's terminology and the vision of St. Paul, we can rightly say that the religious community is an anticipation of a later and final stage of evolution, the unity of all men in Christ, the Omega point of historical being. This higher unity of mankind, which we an-ticipate, involves a center of gravity, a focal point, an axis above and beyond the ecological and physical. And what is this axis of religious community life? It is charity. The religious community must be founded on love of God and neighbor. This new level of mankind, as any leap in evolution, involves a definitive departure, a break from the lower stages even though it is their continuation, ful-fillment, and transformation.4° And yet, as an anticipation we are beginning to create the new within the old; this combination of the old and the new must involve sacrifice and tension--the death of the type as we pass into the era of the antitype, the dis-sipation of shadow as we strive to realize the light. There is tension and strain. Creation groans and is "in the pangs of childbirth" (Rom 8:22). Life is born through death. In our very community, creation is being re-capitulated in Christ. Christ is being born! The Divine Milieu, p. 86. ÷ ÷ ÷ Community Exegcises VOLUME 21, 1962 323 dloysius Mehr, 0~.~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Part HI: Community in the Word The deepest significance of religious community exer-cises is not found in mere human encou.nter, but in the encounter with men in God. Religious life .is a charism, a localized outpouring of the Spirit of God, who fills the whole .Church, in such an intense and concentrated way as to bear witness to a particular reality which in varying degrees permeates the whole Church. Keligious life is not radically different from Christian life; rather it is the living image, the eikon, the type and inauguration of perfect Christian life. The perfection to which all Christians are called and in which all shall share when the Day of the Lord dawns is incarnately realized in the Church today by the religious life, which can be called the "sacrament" of Christian perfection. The flourishing of religious life in the Church stands an apocalyptical pledge that the things to come will truly come because they have already been realized living type; religious life bears encouraging witness to each generation of Christians that the life of the Gospel can truly be lived to the full now, into the fullness that is to come. Such a witness can only be the fruit of the Spirit outpoured in charismatic plenitude. Once the religious life is seen as charismatic, its sacra-mental and ecclesiological dimensions become apparent and important. Since the religious life is the image of perfect Christian life, the basic structure of religious life must be seen in relation to the strhctural pattern of the Church's life. The possible points of reference here are numerous; we will limit the discussion to two features of Christian life which seem to be most fundamental. First, the Church is a community formed by the word of God. Secondly, the Church is a community of sacramental worship. Community in Covenant The Church of the New Testament, seen in the con-tinuity of sacred history as recorded in the. Scriptures, is the fulfillment of that people of God which was in continual formation down through Old Testament times by the gradually unfolding revelation of the Word of God. After the fall, God's Word appears on the human scene as a call; God called Abraham to leave his people and his father's house for a land of promise in which his descendants would multiply until they became as numer-ous as the sands of the sea (Gen 12:1). When Abraham responded to the initial promptings of God's Word, God spoke again to Abraham to make a covenant with him for a mutual sharing of destiny down through Abraham's posterity, which would come into being as a result of God's Covenant-Word. Abraham's family came into being as the family of God (Gen 15). As the history of the family of God folds back upon it-self, the same pattern emerges in the formation of the Israelite people from the family of Abraham. The Israel-ites were called out of Egypt to hear the Word of God proclaimed on Mount Sinai'(Ex 3:16--17). Another cov-enant resulted from this new proclamation, a covenant which was again creative of the community with whom it was made (Ex 24:8). The Israelites became a spiritual community in becoming the people of God in the Mosaic covefiant. The pattern recurs again as each successive wave of revelation leaves in its wake a fuller, more spiritualized community to whom God's Word is addressed as a call and a covenant. There can be no doubt from the annals of sacred history that when God speaks to man He speaks to man in community. In the dialogue between God and man, God is the I who speaks the creative Thou to the community. In the light of the fall of Adam, this dialogue appears as a healing dialogue. The community of the'human race disintegrated in sin. It appears to be God's plan to build it back up again meticulously in time, .through the gradual revelation of his creative Word in a gradually more perfect community, until these last times in which He speaks to us by a Son (Heb 1:2). He is the perfect Word uttered in the community which in the new Adam already exists but which is still being perfegted. (created) and realized (actualized) in all the members of the new human race by the continued call and proclamation of the new covenant in every life and time. In the realm of salvation, man does not walk alone and he is not free to do whatever he chooses. He is saved in community by the healing Word of God which is spoken to and in the community which it itself creates. The inner structure and dynamism of the Church is to be and to become this community of the Word of God. Let us now look more closely into the religious life in terms of what has already been said. If the religious life is to be the type and the eschatalogical pledge of the life of the Church, it ought to be the flesh-and-blood realiza-tion par excellence of the community of the Word of God. It is here that the progress of sacred history toward the fulfillment of God's plan of perfect community ought to be moving forward to the last day when the perfect community of the cosmos will be reheaded in Christ and God will be all in all (I Cor 15:28). The implications of this reach deeply into the basic attitudes incarnate in the concrete circumstances of re- Eoxme~mc~uen$lty VOLUME 21, 1962 325 Alo~situ Mehr, O.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ligious life. If the religious community is to be at all, the breath--the spirit-~of. God's Word must be free to move through and in us. Through baptism and confirmation we received the Spirit unto the building up of the com-munity to the full stature of Christ.4x The religious com-munity must be the community of the Word of God, true to the pattern of sacred history outlined above: call, proclamation of the Word, covenant. 1. (Tall. We are accustomed to the idea of a vocation to the religious life. We must draw this out to its concrete conclusions. First, when God calls man He calls him to community. A vocation to the religious life .is a call to community. Secondly, when God calls man to a religious community, He calls him to be initiated into a particular religious community. This means that the candidate must undergo a true initiation into the concrete life of that community and that he must successfully complete the initiation: he has to prove himself ready and able to renounce anything and everything which stands between him and the ideals of his vocation, to accept deeply in his incarnate being the two-edged sword of the Spirit. The religious pre-novitiate and novitiate training ought to be for the religious community what the catechu-menate was for the primitive Church. It ought to test the authenticity of the call. The community, but also the candidate, must ask the question: Is the Word of God truly at work here? God speaks toman in human language, not in weight-less abstractions. Hence the family background of the candidate must be looked into to see if God's Word came to him through parents genuinely in touch with God by their lives of faith. I[ the indications here are strongly negative, the.stronger influence of less natural channels of God's Word must be evident. Because of the psychology involved in such a situation, the candidate's response to this call must be tested for its supernatural authenticity by a convergence of other factors indicating the working and direction of Providence with adverse circumstances. The following questions must be answered: first, hits the candidate attained at least the minimum strength of character, mental health, and social ability required for successful community life; for the monastery or convent cannot function as a rehabilitation center without in-justice to its other members. Secondly, does the candidate at least show promising signs of being able to respond to maturing influences that will be able to help him to ~ Eph 4:13; see La Saihte Bible de Jerusalem (Paris: Cerf, 1956), p. 1546, note n: "Non pas simplement le chrfitien arriv~ h l'~tat de 'parfait,' mais l'Homme parfait en un sens collectif: soit le Christ lui-m~me., soit mieux encore le Christ total, T~.te. et mere- grow to a greater measure of personal authenticity? If the latter is the case, one must investigate whether or not these maturing influences so much needed are actually present in the community which the candidate wishes to join and whether they will be accessible to him. ~This is only another way of asking whether this person,~who does seem to be called by God, is being called to thig particular community. 2. Proclamation. This has led us to our next point. The community has been called together to hear the Word of God; hence that Word must be. authentically proclaimed in the community. In the Church there are official proclaimers, messengers (kerukes), for this task: the priestly hierarchy. In the religious community, this responsibility rests primarily with the superiors. They must be men of God's Word. The Bible must be familiar ground to them. They ought to be able to breathe the Scriptures. God's Word cannot be spoken with authority except by men who themselves hear the Word of God and keep it. St. Paul's timely words to Timothy, the head of the Ephesus community, point out this obligation: Attend to the public reading of Scripture, to preaching., to teaching. Do not neglect the gift you have, which was g~ven you by prbphetic utterance when the elders laid their hands upon you. Practice these duties, devote yourself to them, so that all may see your progress. Take heed to yourself and your teaching; hold to that, for by so doing you will save both your-self and your hearers (1 Tim 4:15--16; see also Col 3:16). The central time and place for the proclamation of God's Word to the community is the liturgy. Everything within the range of possibility should be done to make this proclamation authentic. The laws of liturgical psy-chology must be understood and incorporated into actual liturgical practice. Also it should be understood that proclaiming God's Word in the liturgy is not confined to the scriptural readings but extends to the homily or sermon delivered in the assembly. It is a mistake to think that because religious do a great deal of spiritual reading they do not need to hear sermons. Faith comes from hearing (Rom 10:17). The Scriptures must be au-thoritatively interpreted in relation to concrete con-temporary events. Here the jurisdictional power of su-periors can be seen to be more than a matter of legality. Theirs is the charism to preach authoritatively and to recognize the authentic prophetic spirit in those whom they delegate to preach. In general, there ought to be within the community a real atmosphere of reverence to the Bible. This is mani-fested, for instance, in the handling of the sacred books. Dilapidated Missals ought not be found on the altar. Out-side of the liturgical assembly, the Missal should not be ÷ ÷ Community Exercises VOLUME 21, 1962 AIoysi~s Mehr, O&C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS carelessly thrown in the corner of the sacristry but re-served in a place of honor, like the Blessed Sacrament and the Holy Oils. The same can be said for the Bible used for community reading during the meal, and to a lesser extent for the copy of the Bible kept by individuals in their rooms. Private Bible reading ought to be en. couraged within the spiritual reading program; but this entails some instruction in how to read the Bible, es-pecially for those who do not have the benefit of an in-tensive Scripture course. All these things are only ex. amples, but they indicate a direction .of attitude which must be fostered if the seed of God's Word is to find good ground to grow into a community. 3. Covenant. The proclamation of the Word of God in the community climaxes in covenant, an intimate I. Thou relationship of God with the community. Itshall be a continual burnt offering throughout your genera-tions at the door of the tent of meeting before the Lord; where I will meet with you, to speak there with you . And I will dwell among the people of Israeli and will be their God. And they shall know that I am the Lord their God, who brought them lorth out o] the land oI Egypt that I might dwell among them: I am the Lord their God (Ex 29:42-46). The intimacy of the covenant is best expressed in the Scriptures by the idea of a sacred meal with God at the time of the covenant. "Then Moses and Aaron and Nadab, and Abihu, and seventy of the elders of Israel went up and they saw the God of Israel . they beheld God and ate and drank" (Ex 24:9-11). The sacred meal will be discussed later. What is of moment here is that God addresses the community as Thou. He covenants with the community. He shares the destiny of the community, and in this way alone does the community become God's people, heir to the promises. "I will be your God and you will be my people" (Jet 32:38)~ The community has in fact been established by the progressive call of God through both Testaments. Or, to put it more critically, the concrete possibility has been established for the authentically Christian community to become to be, to grow in creative fidelity into being fully what it already is in the reality of infallible promise. Nor is the creative, call merely the point of origin; the call is repeated through and in the community of the Church to each generation for the divinization of every era. We are in fact inserted into this order of the Spirit; and by this very reality bear the serious responsibility of. hastening the Parousia (2 Pet 3:12) by a total effort to build community, to respond to the creative call ad- dressed to us, to assure that there will be in us a Thou for the moment when God speaks his "I." There must be real communion of persons who have an authentic, conscious, un-egocentric participation in the human nature and creatureliness they share in their com-mon flesh from the loins of Adam. There must be com-munity in which Christ is progressively becoming in-carnated and given being-in-the-world, caught up, as it were, by the Spirit and created time and time again in authentic response (possible only in community) to the liturgical Word. proclaimed now, as in times past, in liturgical community. Then the great Passover of Jesus from the Cross into the glory of His Resurrection~ Ascen-sion, and Enthronement can take root- in the world and create from our community authentic and supernatural Christian community, the Body of the Lord. For a man to enter the We :of the community, certain things must happen to him. For one thing~ he must have experienced encounter with other persons in the com-munity. This occurs on various interpenetrating levels. On the sacramental level, the encounter begins with his initiation into the Church through baptism and confirma-tion which are an encounter with the concrete Church community. In the religious life a further sacramental encounter is the act of religious profession. Think of the handclasp, the Amen of the community, and the kiss of peace. , Through baptism, confirmation, and profession, the religious has already met the members ofthe community on the sacramental level, the. authenticity of which meet-ing will depend on the authenticity of the ritual. This also means that he is ontologically structured for and pledged to this encounter in all its dimensions. Other levels of encounter which are basic to the we experience are the father-son relationship between su-perior and subject, the brother relationship between con-freres, the teacher-student relationship, and the more in-timate encounter of true religious friendship. A parish community is as strong as the basic I-Thou relationship between the husband and wife in the families of the pa.rish, since marriage is the effective sign of the Church. similarly a promotion of genuine I-Thou relationships within the community builds up the great We of the I. Thou relationship with God, as the.se experiences open the personalities of the religious to that common human nature and creatureliness which would otherwise be hoarded up individualistically by each selbcenter. The human nature and creatureliness which we share is a concrete human nature and creatureliness incarnate in the human beings around us, and it is there where it must ÷ Community VOLUME 21, 1962 32g ÷ ÷ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS be met. Here we have the sensible, real basis, the sign, of the Body of Christ which is realized in sacrament. Another experience which conditions for and builds up the great We is the common sharing of a rich ex-perience, a going through something together, a com-mon passover. God made his covenant with Israel after the Exodus experience, after the people had passed through the Red Sea together. This experience involves the elements of crisis, judgment, and victorious issue. Once again, on the sacramental level, this is accomplished through the catechumenate and initiation sacraments of baptism and confirmation in which the candidate shares the Christian community's experience of the Exodus, of the Passover from the Egypt of sin through the Red Sea of baptism to the new life of the people of God. In the religious life a further sacramental or ritual sharing of crisis-victory is embodied in profession, the passover into the state of perfection. But this sacramental ontology of community on the basis of shared experience becomes incarnate in and is the fulfillment of numerous experiences undergone on other levels of life. Religious life can provide many ex-cellent experiences of solidarity through crises and vic-tories. As examples can be mentioned: working out phil-osophical and theological problems; a difficult community project such as the continued and successful support of a mission; a common experience of joy such as might be expected at ordinations and professions; the death of a member of the community; in short, any event which deeply affects the community. This solidarity in experience is not limited to events. What may be more important is the common experience of the presence of great persons. Just as the Israelite community was somehow bound up in the persons of Moses, Josue, and Aaron, and just as the Church is bound up in the persons of Christ, the Apostles, and the Virgin Mary, so the religious community is bound up in the per-sons of its superiors and leading figures. The superior must be a deep, spiritually mature person who is in personal contact with his community so that the members of the community actually have a chance to experience him and feel a solidarity in this experience. As fdr the other leading figures in the community, the more deep personalities God has given to a community, so much richer will that community life be as the solidarity in this experience broadens the horizons of the com-munlty. It is a corruption of a precious gift for a com-munity to consider its outstanding members as divisive forces or to make them feel like isolated individualists. Sharing the experience of encounter with a great man is one of the strongest bonds of unity there is between man and man. We have discussed some factors in the formation of the community We which becomes the Thou whom God addresses in his covenant dialogue. There is one other element of covenant that should be mentioned, and it is the sharing of destiny. God becomes involved in the community's destiny and the community is caught up into God's great mystery of salvation, the secret hidden from the ages and revealed fully in his Son, the movement of salvation history (Col 1:26-27). There is a movement toward fulfillment, toward Pleroma. Christ has already been established as the Head of new order in heaven, but his Body is still undergoing construction upon earth. The completion of Christ's Body is being realized little by little. It is a steady growth until the full measure of the perfect Man is attained. This fullness, Pleroma, means that in Christ harmony has been established among all things, that the universe is "filled b~ the creative presence of God."42 When this day shall arrive, the Church will contain Christ in his fullness. The Church will reach the stature of the perfect man (Eph 1:23), The movement .of salvation history, however, is not inevitable. God is faithful and will accomplish His pur-pose, but His people do not always respond with like fidelity, and He will not use force. If the Day of the Lord is to come, it is the Christian community, we, who must hasten it (2 Pet 3:12), we who must move ahead; and we are free to contribute to this forward movement or to hold it it check. If we should choose the latter, we would become like the Thessalonians who sat around and waited for the Parousia and who were upbraided for their pre-sumption (2 Th). The religious community ought to be an advance guard unit in this forward march, for it is by definition a place of perfection and fulfillment. This again points up the necessity for the proclamation of the Word of God in the community. The history of salvation is contained in the Scriptures. God's plan is there, and only those who are familiar with its patterns are capable of reliable frontier work on the boundaries of sacred history. Ful-fillment does not mean reckless lunging out in any direc-tion. Yet neither i~ it all mapped out in detail. Here the living tradition of the Scriptures assumes its rightful im-portance. The leaders of the community must be men who walk in the way of the Lord and meditate on His law. If we may say so, they must have a scriptural instinct, a Pierre Benoit, O.P., "Corps, t~te et pl~r6me darts les Rpitres de lacaptivit~," Revue Biblique, v. 63 (1956), pp. 5-44. ÷ ÷ ÷ Community VOLUME 21, 1962 .331 ÷ Aloysius OM.Se.hCr., REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS a feel for the way God does things, and a contact with the currents of life in the Church. They must be attentive to the voice of higher authority and at the same time be aware of the prophetic movements within their own com-munity. They literally have to know which way the Wind --the Holy Spirit--is blowing. Community in Worship At this point lines of thought begin to converge: the Word of God, community, covenant, sacred history; and their point of convergence is worship. We may say that the community called into being by the Word of God in the context of sacred history through the intimacy of the covenant is primarily a worshiping community. What happens in Christian sacramental rituals? The Word of God, spoken once definitively in Jesus Christ, is spoken now in the Church community which is the Body of Christ, the real, glorified soma tou Christou, which is building up to completion. Ritual makes possible.through its pneumatic bodiliness, its symbolic or sacramental na-ture, the entrance by the commUnity here and now into the great sacramental moment, the primordial time, Christ's great Resurrection Passover, which stands at a particular moment of history yet transcends it, catches up within itself the vitality of all history, its direction and its completion. Here the Christian community whose task it is to move sacred history ahead, to build up the Body of Christ, is in contact with the vital source of the upward thrust of sacred history: the leap of the crucified Jesus up into the life of the Christos-pneuma. Covenant intimacy with God becomes possible in ritual: the I-Thou rela-tionship between the Father and the community comes into being in the spoken word and the meal ritual (or other symbolic act), in both of which, taken together, the risen Christ in whom we meet the Father is present through the working of the Spirit. By hearing the ef-fective Word together and eating the sacred meal to-gether (or doing the ritual action of the other sacraments), the members of the community pass together through the greatest of all experiences: the Passover of Christ, the primordial passage of non-being into being, of what is away from God to what is in God, of what is dead: sarx, to what is alive: pneuma. 1. Mass. In this context, the Mass, as the supreme Passover ritual, becomes for the Church and the religious community the supreme moment of covenant communion with the Father and with one another. The place of meet-ing with God is the place of.assembly and formation of the people of God. The people of God were formed to the Qehal Yahweh by communication with God himself. The community entered a covenant with God, and the effec- tive token of this covenant was the paschal meal. This reaches its fulfillment in the Eucharist where we become one people of God by sitting at table with God. For the community, the Mass is not just one of the de-votional exercises of the day, nor merely one of the "means" used by a group 0f3ndividuals for accumulating personal merits. It is first of all a gathering, an assembly of Christians, those who are of Christ. Secondly, it is not an hour of community meditation, but an hour of com-munity action, an event, a celebration. The act of cele-bration is important, for the event is Christ's event (here we have the true meaning of ex opere operato), and the community enters into the mystery of Christ by their ritual transposition of the action of Christ. The event is the Resurrection Passover of Christ which He Himself rit-ually transposed in the sacramental moment of the Last Supper and ordered to be clone in commemoration of Him. Let us examine these two interrelat'ed realities: com-munity and event. The worshiping community is not a priori, not an automatically given thing with which to work out the problem of celebrating Mass. Nor can the community be improvised haphazardly. It must be .built up by active and intelligent effort; it demand~ active con-cern and reverence for the laws of human acting. In fact, if the sacramental reality is to be accomplished, if com-munity is to be created on the supernatural level, the sacramental signs must be authentic. As St. Thomas has told us: the sacraments signify what they cause and cause only insofar as they signify,aa This highlights the necessity for catechesis: instruction, explanation, acclimatization--initiation into the reality of the community and the event. Catechesis is a psy-chological necessity because words and actions must be significant. The Bible and the ritual must be understood by the community. Cathechesis is accomplished both by systematic instruc-tion and by the actual celebration authentically done. We have already spoken of some things that can be done out-side the celebration regarding the catechesis of the Bible. A suggestion or two concerning the cathechesis of the ritual outside the celebration may slip into what fol-lows by an occasional convenient parenthesis, but what we are primarily interested in here is .the ca-thechesis that occurs within the celebration of Mass itself. No matter how much formal instruction we have about the Mass, we can come to learn the Mass only by doing the Mass. Actions must be learned from within, by doing. No matter how many books we read about how Summa Theologiae, 3, q. 62, a. 1, ad I. + + + ommunit~ Exercises VOLUME 21, 1962 ÷ ÷ ÷ Aloysius Meh¢, O.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ,334 to study or how to play tennis, we will never really have learned these activities until we have entered into them. Catechesis must adapt the celebration of the Mass to the psychological climate of the assembly. This, of course, must be done within the limit of the laws of the Church. We do not, for instafice, simply "adapt" our celebration into the vernacular, despite the fact that this might be an excellent cathechetical move, one to be hoped, prayed and worked for through legitimate channels. But there is much to be done within the limits of the present rubrical framework. Let us begin with the community itseff. We can talk the idea of community to people until the Parousia, and it will not create community. A Christian community has to be built up by the celebration of Mass itself. The daily conventual Mass is a summons to enter deeply into com-munity. The community must experience community. Community is indeed where community happens. In the primitive Church there were at first no Catholic schools to teach the idea of community. Community was built up through worship, a worship that took into account the concrete conditions of the lives of the faithful. One of these basic concrete conditions is the bodiliness of men. Body is intrinsic to human personality. Man not only has a body, but also is a body. As we have already seen, man is a spirit incarnate in a body which is its epiphany, its revelation, its sign. And to come to the point here, it is through his body that man is part of the community of the race of Adam 'and through his body that he enters into conscious contact with the community. It is the role of good catechesis to create a sensible at-mosphere of community. It is especially when brethren gather around the altar that they ought to get that ecce quara bonum feeling. What can be done toward this? First of all, there have to be people there. And they ought to be there for the Mass. If I sit down to eat a meal with someone and he insists on reading the paper, I do not feel that he is really with me. Likewise, if the man next to me at Mass is "getting his meditation in" or "getting through his Office," the sense of community i~ being broken down. This does not mean that everyone at Mass has to be doing the same thing, for there are many liturgies or works to be done at the one great liturgy: the celebrant, the choir, the schola, the altar ministers, the organist, the choir director--all have their own work to contribute to th~ whole. But there must be that sense of the whole to which all are contributing. All present must feel that "we came here to do the Mass." The importance of this, I think, is felt instinctively even by those who close themselves up in a meditation book at Mass: they stand, sit, and kneel with the community. This at least is better than nothing, but it is for from the ideal. Akin to this is the practice of having "a Mass going on" in church when the community has come there to do something else. One picks up the habit of not becoming distracted by the Mass. Not only does this dull ofie's abil-ity to participate at other times when he is supposed to, but such a psychologically unsound practice of not doing what you are doing, on the basic religious level, has a disintegrating effect on the total personality and shows up in other activities. The desire to "get in an extra Mass" may proceed from sincere devotion, but it some-what misses the point. Whenever the Mass is used as a background or as something that is secondary, its signifi-cance (which is of prime importance in the sacramental realm) is greatly lessened (I do not say completely ab-sent); this lessening of significance breaks down the au-then. ticity of the ritual, hence its effectiveness. But in the Mass-and-something-else situation, it is not only the Mass that suffers. When two community exercises which de-mand full attention are combined, neither is able to have any depth. The sense of community at Mass is also built up by the alertness and freshness of the presence of the participants. This means that those who plan to attend Mass in the morning ought io feel it their responsibility to get enough sleep the night before to enable them to be attentive to one another and to the sacred actions. It also means that Mass should not be scheduled to be done after a marathon of spiritual exercises has just about exhausted the normal capabilities of a man to do the intensive work which good praying demands. Another important contribution to the sense of com-munity is the very structure of the church building. People at Mass ought to be able to see the altar and to see each other. They must be able to feel close to one another and not to feel oppressed by one another. Their place in church ought to be related to their role at the Mass. They ought to be able to feel together in the pres-ence of God. These problems have to be worked out on the architectural level by those competent in the field. The furnishings of a church must be such as not to distract from the main purpose of the building. The com-munity ought not to be pulled in all directions by a penny arcade of devotional concession stands. This does not mean elimination of statues from the church, but it does mean an integration of all furnishings into the main-stream of attention. This must be done by the planning of skillful designers, not by a mere process of accumula-tion. ÷ ÷ ommunlty Exercises VOLUME 21, 1962 335 4. ÷ 4. Aloy~ius Mehr, 0.$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 336 The celebrant, too, has his role to play in creating a sense of community. He must realize his role as the leader of the community, as one who acts in their name, and must by his very actions sweep up the community .into participation with him. Hemust understandthat not all parts of thd Mass are equally important, and he must learn how to emphasize the important parts with the proper gestures and tone of voice, and not to monopolize the attention of the community when what he is doing is not the main thing going on, especially when the choir is singing. His gestures must be authentic. When he greets the people, there should be contact, and he should wait for their response. When he proclaims the Word of God, he should do so loudly, clearly, and expressively. During the great presidential, prayer, the anaphora, from the pre-face to the doxology, he should invite the silent attention of the community to what he is doing by his own sense of presence, by his poise and serenity. His whole bodily attitude must be expressive of praise and thanksgiving, His priestly vestments ought to mark him as a man of dis-tinction. In short, he must look and sound like a leader, and to do this he has to feel like one. He is not to be esoteric or insert idiosyncracies into the celebration, yet his action must be personal action flowing expressively from his total personality which on the deepest level is priestly. Finally, the two .very important factors in building up the sense of community are music and movement. People experience real togetherness by mutual singing and mu-tual movement. Every conventual Mass should be a com-munity sing. But again this does not mean that everyone has to sing everything. Some of the prescribed chants are too difficult to be enjoyable for those who are not trained to sing them. The obvious answer is to let the trained schola sing those parts, while the rest of the community listens attentively--at that moment their liturgy is med-itative listening together. Beyond this, there is need for the composition of good music which is singable by the real communities that actuall~ exist. °The ability to sing must be built up, but we have to start where people are and help them experience their own way into better things. The most familiar mutual movements at Mass are the changes of posture: standing, sitting, kneeling, and bow-ing. These movements ought to be expressive and forma-tive of community. This means that all should rise, bow, and so forth, together because community actions are not fully authentic unless every member makes his contribn-tion to the communal movement. These movements, as well as all the ceremonies during any liturgical function, should be expressive of two things: first, the gravity of what is being done, and secondly, the anirna una et cor unum of the community. Beyond the familiar change~ of posture, there are three great movements of the .people of God at Mass--the En-trance Procession, the Offertory Procession, and the Com-munion Procession~during which the community is sing-ing together. There are practical difficulties in restoring the movement features of the first two processions which have been reduced to the singing of the Introit and Of-fertory Antiphons. The difficulties are not insurmount-able, but they are more formidable than the difficulty it would entail to reintroduce the singing feature of the Commun, ion Procession. There are few experiences of community which can match walking in a group of your confreres in joyful song on the way to and fron~ the table of the Lord where you share the .one Bread. Let Us now make a few observations about the cat-echesis of the Mass as an event. The Mass is not an ordi-nary dialogue, nor an ordinary meal. It is a festive speak-ing of God and a festive eating with God. It involves a longing for happiness and salvation, for every feast" has the atmosphere of expectation and liberation from rou-tine. This is the eschatological dimension of the Mass. The early Christian found it easier to feel the festivity of the Mass because he found it easier to see the Mass as a cel-ebration of the coming of the risen Lord, a pledge of His final coming. For the early Christian Christ was present in the Church, especially in the actual liturgical assembly gathered together in His name: as the community cam~ together, Christ came among them. When those who love come together the tone is one of festivity. The Mass must, then, become a real celebration, as its interpenetrating rhythm of dialogue and meal indicate it is meant to be. At a celebration people talk and sing and move around. There is real, free communication. Mass is a dialogue between God and His people through the mediatorship of the priest. The priest talks to God in the name of the people and to the people in the name of God. When people really come together in a festival setting to talk with one another, they bring their interests, their work, their experiences, and their whole personality which transcends these experiences. Here one can see the role that community recreation and community meals can play as a catechesis of the proper celebration of Mass. It is not stretching a point to see community recreation as the extension and fruit of the festive dialogue of the Mass; in itself it has something of the nature of a ritual and might indeed be considered a sacramental for community. Play is sacred. When the Bible says the people rose up ÷ ÷ + Community Exercises VOLUME 21o 1962 337 ÷ ÷ Aloysius Mehr, O.~.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 338 to play while Moses was conversing with God on Mount Sinai, it speaks condemningly of the event, including its sexual misbehavior, precisely because it was an act of false worship (Ex 32:1-6). Later in Israelite history we know that David leapt and danced before the Ark of the Covenant (2 S 6:14). Play is an expression of joy and freedom--like the Sabbath day of rest. The idea of worship and the free-dom from the drudgery of work belong together. The need to break routine is rooted in man's desire for the freedom of salvation. Play is free dialogue, whether it be in the form of relaxed conversation, or a contest in which make-believe competition is manufactured, or the sharing of some unroutinized activity just "for the fun of it." Play keeps a man from b~ecoming a slave to his work; it keeps him from confining himself to the world of I-It. We take a game seriously to a point. We must take it that far, for playing is literally "making fun" of work. The religious significance of this is deep. One can take his life's work seriously only to a point; from there he must "make fun" of it in the sight of God and man as David made fun before the Ark and the people. Other-wise he will become proud and self-sufficient. The world of I-It is not to be despised, but it must lead up to the world of I-Thou, of dialogue between man and man and between man and God. Community recreation ought to be fun, but it must never be dissipation or aesthetically squalid, or the whole meaning of it is destroyed. It is the bringing of the real necessity of one's work to the level of free personal dialogue with God and man. A person-alized celebration of community recreation is a great help to a personalized celebration of Mass. The festivities of" the Mass reach their climax in the meal celebration. Food and drink are an essential part of a celebration. The Mass is a holy eating together, a sacred banquet in which we are filled with the bread of life and drink of the cup of gladness. The symbolism of wine especially provides the atmosphere of festivity. The feeling tone of the Mass is that of a celebration of people who are spiritually well fed and well drunk, who feel the spiritual fullness from the rich bread and the spiritual freedom from the intoxicating wine. Here we might note that the regular community meals can be a real catechesis of the Mass, since they are in fact a sacramental extension of the meal aspect of the Mass through the ritual prayers surrounding them. Human eating is of its nature a sacred and communal act. It is not a mere refueling for another round of work. God is present at every meal in his gifts of food and drink and in the fellowship around the table. The prayers before and after meals set the tone of the meal. They are mos~tly i, excerpts from the Psalms, breathing the spirit of the anawim, the spirit of joy, thanksgiving, appreciation, de-pendence on God, praise, awareness of God's presence, simplicity. The meals themselves should reflect all this. The food should be simple fare, b,ut good. It ought, t.o be eaten in an atmosphere of calm enjoyment, not of frantic dumping from platter to plate to palate. There ought to be a real spirit of fellowship at the table. But besides fellowship at table, we should also be aware of how community meals tie in with the Mass. Father Godfrey Van Lit, O.S.C., describes the intimate relation-ship between the refectory and the ~ chapel, community meals and the Mass.4. The Christian dining room table is a symbol of the Eucharistic table, the altar, and hence the refectory used to be decorated with a large, artistic painting of the Last Supper. As we have silence of place in the chapel, so we also observe silence of place in the refectory, And as in the community Mass the leader pro-claims to us the Good News, so also during our commu-nity meals a lector acquaints us with the consequences of the Gospel narrative. Both at Mass and at table, we are reminded that "not by bread alone does man live, but by every word that comes forth from. the mouth of God" (Mr 4:4). Both the Mass and the community meals ought to par-take of the spirit of the Passover and Chaburah meals of the Old Testament. The pervading tone here is that of a family meal. The community superior presides in the place of honor at the table as the father of the family who provides the good gifts. In so doing he is the epiphany of our heavenly Father who provides us with all good things, and the assurance of His presence among us. "He who has seen me has seen the Father" (Jn 14:9). The hebclomadarius who leads the community both at Mass and at the meal prayers must be seen as the delegate of the father of the community, just as every priest stands at the altar as the delegate of the bishop. So simple a thing as the custom of not starting the prayers until the superior "knocks of[" in chapel or rings the bell in the refectory helps to keep this family awareness. At the com-munity table one ought not to feel that he is just one nameless stop along the long line of the gravy train, but that he is among the little group of his brothers with whom he is at home. We are one "b~cause the bread is one" (1 Cor 10:17). The event aspect of the Mass also demands that the ritual transposition of the sacramental moment should be ~ Lucerna Splendens super Candelabrum Sanctum, Id Est, Solida ac Dilucida Explanatio Constitutionum Sairi ac Canoni¢i Ordinis Fratium Sanctae Crucis (Coloniae Agrippinae: apud Antonii Boet-zeri Heredes, 1632), pp. 45-58; 87. ÷ ÷ ÷ ECxo~mrmcisuensity VOLUME 21, transparent; the celebration must be a revelation of the event itself. The main event is the Easter Passover, but there are other sacramental moments in sacred history which unfold in the course of the Church year as incip-ient or concluding stages of the Passover, from the In-carnation to the Mission of the Spirit. The sacramental moments are themselves revelations, openings into the Passover mystery, which pervades the whole Church in her sacramental ritual. A final note on the Mass concerns the apostolate. Cult is formative of missionaries. Worship is the school of the very Christian experience which the apostle seeks to com-municate to others. Here we must remember that there is no. effective activity without sanctity; there is no sanc-tity which does not radiate in the Church; there is no grace which does not come from the Head, and there is none which does not flow from the member back over the entire Body.~ + + lloysim Mehr, O.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 34O A religious who neglects his personal sanctity in order to intensify his activity, paralyzes it. The gift of the Spirit is the sacramental basis for com-munity in work. When a man works to bring forth the fruits of the earth as a Christian, he brings these temporal things into the sphere of the Spirit by doing the very best job he can to make his farming or his teaching, and so forth, as perfect as possible within the total context of human life, of community. He is working with the crea-tive force of the Spirit who hovered over the waters and brought order, harmony, and completion out of chao:; and who is now at work in the community. He brings; creation into his Passover experience. He is using the totality of his mind and energies and spirit, which totality exists only within the community, 'to bring creatures to perfection, to fill up the glory ofGod which will come in its fullness at the Parousia. 2. Penance. We are not accustomed to thinking of the sacrament of penance in terms of the community, and in this we have missed much of its meaning. The weekly confession of devotion can easily become for religious a routinized ticking off of peccadillos which one "gets rid' of" by inserting his penitential coins in the laundromat at the back of Church. The sacrament of penance is a re-penetration of our ex-istence into Christ's healing death and Resurrection. Re-penetration implies that something preceded. Through baptism man is ontologically structured into the commu-nity of the holy--holy persons and holy things which they share. Sin 'is something abnormal for man in Christ Jesus '~Jules Lebreton, S.J., The Spiritual Teaching o! the New Testament (Westminster: Newman, 1960), p. 375. (Rom 6:2). By sin man withdraws from the Body of Christ and sides with the world. The sacrament of penance is reconciliation with the Church. It is the Church that listens to his confession, prays for him, and gives him absolution. Here we see the Body of Christ, wounded by'sih, festoring itself t~0 health. For us, a return to God is always, first of all, a return to the Church. Forgiveness is not so much something which the Church brings us, but rather a belonging to the Church outside of which there is no salvation. The importance of the local Church community must be emphasized here. When a sinner is forgiven, he is for-given through the forgiveness of the local community. This was more evident in the earlier forms of the sacra-ment of penance when the sinner was received publicly back into the assembly. He was assured of God's forgive-ness by the concrete forgiving spirit manifested to' him by the community. The power to absolve is vested in those with hierarchical authority, but they absolve in the name of the community of the faithful; hence the?e is a more fruitful and creative spiritual power at work in the con-fessional of a community'where there is a strong spiri't of mutual forbearancb and forgiveness, where the '~'as we forgive those who trespass against us" is prayed with awareness and sincerity, where the offensive person is ac-cepted in patience, understanding, and ultimate trust in what in him lies beyond his offences: his Christian per-sonality. The sacrament of penance can also be made more fruit-ful if the sacramentals of penance in the community life are appreciated. Two important ones. come to mind: Compline confession of sins and the chapter of faults. Let it be remembered that by the institution of the Church these rites are sacramentals, and if approached in a spirit of contrition they accomplish forgiveness of sin. The Compline confession of sin is the best catechesis for the sacrament of penance for it clearly embodies .its essential elements: contrition, confession of sin in the community and to the community, including the whole community of saints in heaven as well as those present; absolution is given by the presiding priest; and everybody prays together for the effectiveness of the forgiveness. The chapter of faults is also well constructed to pro-mote the communal atmosphere of penance, but it needs to be approached in a genuine spirit of sorrow. The pub-lic confession of our faults in the presence of the com-munity helps to make us realize that by our transgres-sions, by our indifference, lack of interest, fulfillment of purely personal inclinations, and non-participation in the community as such, we cut ourselves off, in fact we deny, the ontological status or nature of our very calling. ÷ ÷ ÷ F~oxmermcisuens ity 4. .4. Aloysius Mehr, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Worse yet, we hold back the community, we retard its growth. This seems to be the point of the chapter of faults: we confess that we have not been completely faith-ful to the ideals to which we vowed creative fidelity. 3. Holy Orders. In clerical religious communities, the whole idea of community life is intimately bound up in the sacrament of holy orders. Some observations on the place of the priesthood in the Church are necessary to clear the ground. It has often been said recently that the Church is not the clergy, despite the impression that has long been given to the contrary. The community is the first inten-tion. The priesthood exists for and in and fromthe com-munity through the apostolic succession. The priesthood is a charism, a mode of being in the Church, for the com-munity, not for itself. It expresses and makes possible and matures the general priesthood of the faithful in its three-fold dimension of worship, kingship, and prophethood. These are the Messianic goods, and they have been placed within the community in the gift of the Holy Spirit. In this context the Church itself is the Ur-Sat~rament con-taining the fullness of the Spirit, which is worked out through many diverse gifts. The priesthood is a charism for the building up of the Church (Eph 4:11-14). Ordination is the,gift of the Holy Spirit by the laying on of hands in the Church for the community. The priest is filled personally by the Holy Spirit to be his minister. No man takes the office to him-self-- or for himself. The fullness of the priesthood is only in the bishop. He is the sign of the full presence of Christ on earth, the organ of unity within the local Church community. He is one with Christ and one with his people. His faith is the norm for the faith of his flock. St. Cyprian defines the . Church as the people united to its priest, the flock stick-ing with its shepherd. The 'bishop is the nucleus of the community because he is the link with Christ through the imposition of hands through which the continuum of the soma tou Christou is maintained. The presbyterate is only a share in the bishop's priest-hood, a subsidiary priesthood under the bishop. As the ordination rite explicitly states, the presbyter is a "sec-ond- rate" priest: secundi meriti. In this light, every priest is a diocesan priest, and, exempt or not, when he works as a priest in a diocese, he works there as the helper of the bishop. By his ordination he is ontologically struc-tured for this work. He is called from the depths of his being to be a helper to the bishop of the diocese in which he lives. Here one can see what a deordination it is for religious priests not to be on good terms with the local ordinary. These good relations should also exist with the rest of the local clergy since the presbyterate is not merely an in-dividualistic but a collegiate institution. The architecture of early churches and the episcopal liturgy indicate this by placing the corona presbyterorum on the bema round the bishop. We still put the clergy together in the sanc-tuary. When a presbyter is ordained he joins the ordo foresbyterovum. This is eloquently obvious in the ordina-tion rite when the "college of presbyters" encircles the ordinands and joins the bishop in the imposition of hands. Priestly fellowship is rooted in the sacramental re-ality, and this sacramental reality is also what makes com-munity life a natural thing for priests. The unity in an order of canons draws its essential vitality from the sacra-ment of holy orders. In this context, the naturally prominent position of the Divine Office and liturgical exercises in many of the cler-ica. I religious communities becomes evident. The Divine Office is, as defined by Pope Pius XII, ~he perennial prayer of the Church, offered to God in the name and on behalf of all Christians, by those who have been deputed for this. It is the hymn of the Divine Word who has united to Him-self the entire human race, and the hymn which He sings is the hymn of praise which is sung in heaven continu-ously. St. Augustine is correct in saying that in the Divine Office "Christ prays for us. as our Priest; he prays in us as our Head; we pray to him as our God . We recognize Our voice in him and his voice in us.''4~ It is the Church praying. But we should go one step further. When a community of canons regular is called into existence by the Holy Spirit and officially approved by the Church, it is by its very nature entrusted with the solemn and communal celebration of the sacred liturgy, especially the Divine Office and the conventual Mass. If any religious body has the right to say that the liturgical life is its ideal, it is the canons regular.47 They above all should lead the way in the liturgical revival of Christian life. The proper chanting of the Divine Office in common is formative of community. But, in order to be formative of community, it presupposes first of all that the community understands the dignity of the Church's prayer, secondly, that the choir members are able to read the text of the prayer intelligently, and, finally, that they adopt as their own the sentiments expressed in these prayers. ,e Mediator Dei, nn. 142-144. ,TDom Germain Morin, O.S.B., The Ideal o] the Monastic Life Found in the Apostolic Age (Westminster: Newman, 1950), p. 105: "If any Order has the right to boast of this it is the Canons Regular, rather than ourselves." See also the article "Canons Regular and the Breviary" by Roger Capel, Orate Frates, v. 23 (1948-49), pp. 246-251. ÷ ÷ + ECxoemrdmsuesnity VOLUME 21. 1962 343 ÷ ÷ ÷ Aloysius Mehr, O$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS It is not merely a question of recitatk;n or of singing which, however perfect according to the norms of music and sacred rites, onl)t reaches the ear, but it is especially a question of the ascent ot the mind and heart to God' so that, united with Christ, we may completely dedicate ourselves and all our ac-tions to him.'s Whenever the Divine Office is chanted "worthily, with attention and devotion," it is prayer in the fullest sense of the term, and every genuine prayer cements together the members of a community. "Our deepest contacts with one another can be made only through God.''49 It is only in the depths of prayer that, in the fullest sense of the term, deep calls out to deep, and the soul gives itself to God. In this sense, every genuine prayer is a renewal of religious profession, the leaving of all things and following He-who- is. If the religious community is to blossom forth into a true community of worship and love, it must be able, at all times, to call upon this interior gift to God.5° The central portion of the Divine Office is the Psalter: the Word of God. The best way for men to pray together is to speak with God in God's own words, for the Word of God is formative and expressive of the community. The common chanting of the Psalter is, by and large, a meditar tive re-experiencing together of the great events of sacred history--again a community-forming factor.5x The Psalter is redolent with man's proper responses to God and his works: the spirit of the anawira, the poor in spirit, God's lowly ones through whom sacred history is accomplished. By a continual singing of these prayers day after day for many .years, these attitudes of heart sink into those who give themselves to this prayer with their minds and hearts and bodies. Through the ritual action, the attitudes and events are effectively experienced by the total personality in community; by all the rules of psychology such prayer is extremely capable of transforming one's life as an aLt-thentic individual in the community. A final note on the Divine Office concerns the non-choir members and every other member of the community who has been assigned work incompatible with regular attend-ance at choir. Here it is important to remember that the choir is a community obligation'. In a living community there are many members "just as in one body we have many members, yet all the members have not the same function" (Rom 12:4). Some are sent out as missionaries, others do the cooking, others are engaged in social work--- ~s Mediator Dei, n. 145. ~9 R. W. Gleason, S.J., To Live is Christ (New York: Sheed anti Ward, 1961), p. 11. ~ T. de Ruiter, O.F.M., Her Mysterie van de Kloostergemeenschap (Mechelen: St. Franciskusdrukkerij, 1958), p. 131. ~ Mediator Dei, n. 148. each according to the grace that has been given to him (Rom 12:6). And then there are also those who are not excused and who have the responsibility to be in choir. In each case it is the community at work or at prayer. Whether we are in the choir or legitimately excused, we are all working together in the name of the omhaunity, fulfilling our role in the completion of the cosmic task. 4. Extreme Unction. The communal dimension of ex-treme unction must be viewed from the Christian stand-point on death. The creation of Adam in flesh is the man-ifestation of the mystery of contingency which attends the existence of all things outside of God. Only God is in Himself and by Himself. All other beings tend to fuller being, which implies nonbeing. Death is the natural con-sequence of man's fleshy nature. Since the human race is a community in flesh it is also a community in death. Adam, however, did not accept his contingency. He failed to project beyond the dissolution of flesh to fuller life. He revolted against being the creature who dies, and death became a punishment for this sin. since the human race is a community in sin, it is a community in the pun-ishment of death (Rom 5:12). Christ, the New Adam, humbled himself: took on con-tingency. He submitted, as the suffering Servant, to be the creature who dies, and death became a redemption, a passage into the eternal life for which Adam revolted in vain (Rom 5:15-19; 1 Cot 15:21). Since the Church is a community in redemption, it is a community in triumph over death. Through the Church's sacraments of death and disso-lution, Viaticum and extreme unction, all human suffer-ing. and death is taken into the redemptive sufferings of Christ. The falling apart involved in suffering and death becomes the creative mustering of forces for the upward thrust to a higher level of life. The death of the Christian is his final experience of the Passover of Christ. Without Christ, death is complete loneliness. One leaves the community of his loved ones to go alone into nothing-ness. Christian death conquers this ultimate loneliness. The highpoint of the ritual for the dying is the admin-istration of Holy Viaticum. The Christian does not go alone into death: the Lord comes to take his faithful serv-ant up into his triumphant Passover. The Lord is able to come in Viaticum because the community has celebrated the Eucharistic Passover. Much of the loneliness of death comes from the effect of sin, by which man cuts himself off from the community. In the prayers and anointing for sickness unto death, the healing Lord approaches in the person of the priest to cure the wounds of severance from the community, to re-store the peace of mind that can come only from c6mplete + + + Community Exercises VOLUME 21, 1962 345 4. 4. 4. Aloysius Mehr, O$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 346 reconciliation with the Church. Again, the priest is acting in the name of the community. The death of a Christian is a deep experience for the community in which it occurs. When at all possible, the religious community should be present at the administra-tion of the last sacraments to the dying members of the community, and they should pa.rticipate in the expressive prayers of the ritual. Such a death is a witness to the reality of the triumph of Christ, a real martyrdom. The joyful and peaceful suffering and death of one with whom we live in intimacy is a striking pledge of the reality of Christ's Resurrection and the certainty of the Parousia. Here we have the reason for a quite joyful celebration of a funeral. What is said of death extends also to the sufferings of illness, disease, and serious injury, as well as of old age. Here there is the same factor of dissolution and contin-gency which is at work in death. Illness and death are times of crisis that naturally draw the community together to struggle against the loneliness which has set into our flesh as a result of sin. The serious sufferings of a member of the community are a community experience and ought to be entered into by the community. This involves a patient care and con-cern for the aged and the sick and keeping the community informed of their condition. It means visiting the sick. It would also be good to make use of the magnificent ritual for the visitation of the sick: let the community gather occasionally in the sick room to join in these moving and consoling prayers led by the superior. In the communal carrying out of this sacramental, the healing Lord will be present, and the patient endurance of suffering in the true Christian spirit will again be a witness to the community of the reality of Christ's presence and the certainty of his coming. Epilogue: The Dynamism of the Sacramental Com-munity There is an inherent tension in the very being of a sac-ramental dispensation or system: the tension, inherent in the nature of a sign, toward the fullness of that reality which is less than fully present in the sign. This underlies the call, covenant, and passover aspect of the sacraments and gives them their "obligatory" dimension, their ex-istential imperative. In Christian life this tension is the cosmic covenant: the Christian community's responsibil-ity for the entire cosmos which needs redemption and building up. This means authentic community work. Religious life is Christian response lived to the full in the working out of salvation history. It is charged with the building up of the Church unto the Pleroma, with the hastening of the day of the coming of the Lord (Ac 3:20; 2 Pt 3:11-12