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Banishing the inner Econ and justifying paternalistic nudges
In: Behavioural public policy: BPP, S. 1-12
ISSN: 2398-0648
Abstract
Paternalistic nudging and framing aim to correct flaws in deliberation by relying on the same cognitive mechanisms that create those flaws. Regarding some choices as flawed and in need of correction requires some standard of correctness. In their well-known book, Nudge, Thaler and Sunstein take the individual's own "purified" preferences to be that standard, which is inconsistent with the finding of behavioral economics that individuals do not have a stable preference ranking of alternatives, but instead construct their preferences when faced with a choice. This essay defends an alternative, readily usable standard to judge whether individuals are choosing badly and whether nudges can help them to choose better.
Water refilling station: an alternative source of drinking water supply in the Philippines
In: WEDC Conference
This is a conference paper. ; Due to management problems in water utilities coupled by poor environmental conditions and occurrence of cholera outbreaks in some areas of the Philippines, a portion of the population have shifted their preference to alternative sources of drinking water. The demand at the water refilling stations - water stores that sell purified water – is now increasing. The quality of purified water conforms with the national standards for drinking water and is even better than the quality of water produced by traditional water supply systems in terms of removed impurities. To ensure water safety and prevent waterborne diseases, the government is regulating the operation of water refilling stations. Critical components are required to comply with sanitation standards and should be adequately monitored. These include the water source, the building, the water purification system, the personnel and the handling of product water.
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Hydrogen Energy Stations: Poly-Production of Electricity, Hydrogen, and Thermal Energy
The "hydrogen energy station" is one method of hydrogen production at small and medium scales. Unlike more conventional hydrogen station designs where hydrogen is simply delivered or produced on-site with a fuel "reformer" or water electrolyzer and then compressed and dispensed, energy stations would provide multiple functions in the same facility. They would integrate systems for production of electricity for 1) local uses and/or the utility grid, 2) re-use of thermal energy "waste heat" for building heating/cooling needs, and 3) purified hydrogen for refueling vehicles. Hydrogen energy stations can be of various types and configurations. Most designs to date are based around some type of fuel cell power plant for electricity production, with coproduction of hydrogen either by splitting the stream of hydrogen from a fuel reformer or electrolyzer (to power the fuel cell and provide electricity with one stream and to refuel vehicles with the other) or by using excess hydrogen from the fuel side of the fuel cell system to provide vehicle fuel. A few hydrogen energy station demonstration projects have been conducted in the past few years, and additional projects are anticipated as part of the California Hydrogen Highway Network initiative and other regional distributed power and hydrogen fuel efforts. We suggest that the interest in hydrogen as a transportation fuel offers opportunities for the development of additional hydrogen energy station projects, as we are beginning to see in California. Promoting new projects such as these will allow for the more complete exploration of the varying potential of different designs, configurations, and locations/settings for the energy station concept. Clean Energy Group (CEG) commissioned this report in order to support the Public Fuel Cell Alliance project (PFCA) and to more fully explore the potential for hydrogen energy stations to play an important role in advancing the development of clean and efficient technologies for both stationary and transportation applications. The following are several recommendations for consideration by key stakeholders that have an interest in developing strategies for promoting these new technologies and projects. These recommendations are intended initially for consideration by state clean energy funds. While it is clear that there is no simple, one-size-fits-all program for state action, these are intended to serve as a starting point for in-depth discussions that can lead to state-specific action plans and stakeholder engagement processes. Specific recommendations include: * Integrate Energy Stations Into State Hydrogen Plans: Many states have completed or are undertaking to develop hydrogen "roadmaps." These state-specific plans, which have been completed in California, Ohio, New York and Florida, provide recommendations to capture new economic development opportunities related to hydrogen and fuel cell technologies. Other states, such as Massachusetts and Connecticut, are embarking on similar planning exercises. The energy station concept should be integrated into these existing and emerging hydrogen plans. California, for example, is emphasizing the inclusion of energy station projects in early hydrogen stations for its Hydrogen Highway effort. We believe this is a strategy that can be replicated in other states. * Explore Fleet-Based Opportunities to Deploy Energy Stations: In many settings, there likely exist opportunities for states to deploy energy stations in conjunction with a specific, clustered vehicle fleet. Fleet-based opportunities reduce the need to develop regional networks of refueling stations as envisioned in many "hydrogen highway" proposals and could be implemented in partnership with military, industrial and delivery organizations. In these settings, a single energy station could support the refueling demands of a significant vehicle fleet. Initially, in order to advance these opportunities, state clean energy funds and economic development offices could support and conduct opportunity assessment studies that identify specific fleets, partners and electricity demands. * Foster Public-Private Partnership Development: Energy stations, in order to be successful, require significant partnerships with technology providers and host facilities. These partnerships can be fostered through public support from state clean energy funds, economic development offices and other key players. In particular, funding and support of coalition-building processes can have cross-cutting benefits for other hydrogen-related priorities in specific states. * Proactively Address Regulatory Incentives: Advanced energy technologies require advanced regulatory policies. Many states have implemented regulatory preferences and incentives (such as standby charge exemptions and net metering policies) that recognize and accommodate the public preference for and benefits from fuel cell, hydrogen and clean energy technologies. The regulatory strategies used by these early leaders can be replicated in other states. This kind of support is especially important for energy stations where a key component of the project is providing distributed electricity for the electric grid. Currently, many regulatory barriers prevent the wide-scale adoption of clean distributed generation and limit the ability to quickly site energy stations. State clean energy funds and others can assist by facilitating information-sharing about the best model regulations that can overcome barriers to distributed generation facilities. * Develop Compelling Communications Strategies: The concept of using hydrogen in consumer settings has been plagued with public misperceptions and lack of awareness of the significant potential benefits and remaining challenges. In recent years, many states have conducted sophisticated consumer and stakeholder research that has resulted in new communications campaigns to increase public understanding and support for clean energy technologies. Many states, for example, recently joined together to develop and fund a "Clean Energy: It's Real, It's Here, It's Working. Let's Make More" branding campaign. This kind of proactive communications strategy would yield tremendous results for the hydrogen sector, helping to organize currently disparate enthusiasm for hydrogen with a single, compelling message while also helping to manage expectations regarding the types and timing of hydrogen technologies that are likely to be introduced.
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Looking Back on the Representation of LGBTQ+ Members, People of Color, & Women: An Analysis of The Chameleon Literary Journal, 1961-Present
The Chameleon Literary Journal has served as Norwich University's arts and creative writing magazine since 1961. Under the mentorship of its advisor Professor Sean Prentiss, third-year student Lydia Brown analyzed all past publishings in order to understand the extent to which Norwich University students represented LGBTQ+ members, people of color, and women throughout the years. This internship also allowed her to explore the overall history of The Chameleon Literary Journal, including its distinct differences from era to era. As the final product, such findings were accumulated over the course of a single semester and comprised into the following written report. ; Winner of the 2022 Friends of the Kreitzberg Library Award for Outstanding Research in the University Archives category. ; Brown 1 Looking Back on the Representation of LGBTQ+ Members, People of Color, & Women An Analysis of The Chameleon Literary Journal, 1961 — Present Lydia Brown Department of English & Communications, Norwich University EN 415: English Internship Professor Sean Prentiss Fall 2021 Brown 2 Abstract The Chameleon Literary Journal has served as Norwich University's arts and creative writing magazine since 1961. Under the mentorship of its advisor Professor Sean Prentiss, third-year student Lydia Brown analyzed all past publishings in order to understand the extent to which Norwich University students represented LGBTQ+ members, people of color, and women throughout the years. This internship also allowed her to explore the overall history of The Chameleon Literary Journal, including its distinct differences from era to era. As the final product, such findings were accumulated over the course of a single semester and comprised into the following written report. Brown 3 The Chameleon | 1961 - Present Brief Historical Background Founded in 1961, The Chameleon Literary Journal continues to serve as Norwich University's arts and creative writing magazine under a team of student editors. Norwich University undergraduate and graduate students are welcome to submit various pieces for review, such as visual arts, drama, poetry, creative nonfiction, and fiction. Sean Prentiss, a published author and professor of creative writing, was selected to be the advisor of the journal when he arrived on campus in 2012. Since his arrival, he has assisted the journal in becoming multilingual by translating students' creative writing pieces into multiple languages. In addition, three-four creative writing awards are issued annually to writers who distinguish themselves amongst the rest of the student body. Brown 4 Introduction Significance of Representation Representation is a system for unambiguously organizing values, ideas, and conduct — all of which enable communication and social exchange amongst members of a particular group or community. From birth onward, an individual's self-c 1 oncept and values are affected by the surrounding environment. Adolescence is an especially critical period for identity development as the classroom serves as the primary site of socialization, although the American K-12 and college school systems have previously marginalized students who were perceived as different. Women are also encouraged from an early age to adhere to the traditional role of a homemaker, rather than pursue vocational training, higher education, and careers in STEM. As the reader will observe in the following excerpts from The Chameleon Literary Journal, Norwich University is no stranger to marginalization as women were not officially admitted for enrollment prior to the mid-1970s. Telltale signs found in the language used by Norwich student contributors indicate that slurs, stereotypes, and insults used against minorities and women were normalized for much of the Chameleon's history. It was not until the early 2000s that there appears to be a significant social shift within the student body due to the increasing presence of minorities and women on campus. Based on these findings, American society seemed to finally be becoming more inclusive, allowing minority Norwich students to express themselves freely, develop social stability, and gain a sense of acknowledgment through positive identity formation as well as representation. 1 "APA Dictionary of Psychology." American Psychological Association, https://dictionary.apa.org/social-representation. Brown 5 Baby Boomers | 1946 - 1964 Brief Historical Background Following World War II and the Great Depression, a significant spike in birth rates occurred throughout the United States. Approximately 76.4 million babies were born over the course of these nineteen years. Most historians claim that this phenomenon stems from the general population's desire to establish their own families — an undertaking that was previously postponed due to World War II. The Servicemen's Readjustment Act also gave soldiers an additional reason to have larger families as the G.I. Bill granted stipends for college tuition, job-finding assistance, and housing expenses. During this time period, economic growth began to increase and the majority of Americans had an optimistic outlook for the future. This encouraged families to relocate from the sparse countryside to the bustling atmospheres of nearby cities. Once these cities were overcrowded by newcomers, plans for large residential communities were undertaken by housing pioneer William Levitt who created the suburbs as a result.2 However, those with xenophobic tendencies followed quickly relocated to the suburbs as cities became miniature melting pots of integrated immigrants with various political, social, and economic backgrounds. This sparked disputes among the American people as legalized statutes remained persistent in enforcing segregation at both the state and local capacity.3 2 Nohria, Nitin, Anthony Mayo, and Mark Benson. "William Levitt, Levittown and the Creation of American Suburbia." Harvard Business School Case 406-062, December 2005. (Revised March 2010.) 3 The first three years of the Chameleon were released during the Baby Boomers generation but were mostly written by students who were born during the Silent Generation (1928-1945). Brown 6 Baby Boomers Overview of Significant Events • Brown v. Board of Education becomes a landmark Supreme Court case (1954). • Civil Rights Movement begins (1954). • Rosa Parks refuses to give up her seat to a white man on a public bus (1955). • Montgomery Bus Boycott tackles segregation on the public transit system (1955). • Emmett Till, a 14-year-old African American, is lynched in Mississippi (1955). • 1956 Sugar Bowl becomes the first integrated college football game in the South (1956). • Civil Rights Act becomes the first federal civil rights legislation since 1875 (1957). • Little Rock Crisis prevents students from enrolling in a racially segregated school (1957). • Greensboro sit-ins initiate protests regarding the South's policy of segregation (1960). • Nashville sit-ins initiate protests regarding the South's policy of segregation (1960). • Gay Liberation Movement begins (1960). • Alliance for Progress initiates improved economic cooperation with Latin America (1961). • Katherine Johnson assists NASA's 1962 Friendship 7 Mission (1962). • Civil Rights Act establishes federal inspection of voter registration polls (1960). • Children's Crusade addresses segregation within the school system (1963). • Martin Luther King Jr. leads the March on Washington (1963). • Betty Friedan publishes The Feminine Mystique (1963). • President Johnson proposes the Great Society to combat poverty and racial injustice (1963). • Civil Rights Act outlaws discrimination based on race, religion, and sex (1964). Brown 7 Baby Boomers The Chameleon Highlights "A young woman driving a truck!? That was unusual, no doubt about it…Stupid woman, all guts, and no brains! … Maybe you can imagine what went on inside the young man when an officer stopped him and hurriedly said; Never mind, mister, there's nothin' you can do, she's dead, just some dirty n***** woman truck driver" (1963). 4 —- An excerpt from "The Wanderers" by R. Reid The use of profanities towards both people of color and women appears to be a commonality amongst Norwich student contributors from the Chameleon's founding in 1961 through much of the decade. In this short story, "The Wanderers," terms such as stupid and dirty are used to target a woman of color for being a trucker. The author continues to expand the character's description by using calling the woman the N-word. Deriving from the Spanish word negro, the N-word is now considered taboo as its connotation has been predominantly used by white people to demean those of color. Black social identity has been especially damaged by the usage of this word as it severs their overall sense of national belonging. 5 4 Complete usage of the word is censored in respect of the black community. 5 Pryor, Elizabeth Stordeur. "The Etymology of N*****: Resistance, Politics, and the Politics of Freedom in the Antebellum North." Colored Travelers: Mobility and the Fight for Citizenship before the Civil War, 2016, https:// doi.org/10.5149/northcarolina/9781469628578.003.0002. Brown 8 "…I saw everything. The city has been purified, swept clean, and now fosters only the black scars and in glorious moments of the past…You liar! You had to see the city die! You had to see it spill its false entrails out in the rotten streets to be devoured by the cleansing fires. This place is no longer dirty…" (1961). —- An excerpt from "The Dream Monger" by Anonymous In this short story, "The Dream Monger," the phrase cleansing fires reveals itself to be the cause of death and destruction. Like the Holocaust, mass genocides often surround ideologies associated with ethnic cleansing. This allows for a geographical area to become ethnically homogeneous under an establishment of power. In 20th-century America, for example, Anglo- American colonialism constituted the genocide of countless Natives in America and around the world. Such events will never be widely coined as genocide, however, due to the number of those who survived exploitation, disease, malnutrition, and neglect. 6 The term black scars also leads to further speculation that this short story may involve post-slavery events of America's racial segregation system. One of which included the Tulsa race massacre, decimating the Black business ecosystem and killing 6,000 community members. 7 Many other excerpts were found focusing on a more negative portrayal of the BIPOC community and women, although there was no mention of LGBTQ+ members.8 6 Anderson, Gary C. Ethnic Cleansing & the Indian: The Crime That Should Haunt America. University Of Oklahoma Press, 2015. 7 Kapadia, Reshma. "The Tulsa Massacre Left a Lasting Impact on Wealth." Trade Journal, vol. 101, no. 22, 31 May 2021. 8 Many other excerpts were found focusing on a more negative portrayal of the BIPOC community and women during this time. However, there was no mention of LGBTQ+ members. Brown 9 Generation X | 1965 - 1980 Brief Historical Background Those who grew up during this time were accustomed to having a sense of independence from an early age. This was caused by the increased divorce rates throughout the United States, the unique dynamics of single-parent households, and dual-income parents who were not able to spend as much time at home. Most parents found a life-long career in computers, business management, construction, or transportation. Although routinely working long hours, they still managed to find a healthy balance between exhibiting their creative freedoms within the workplace and maintaining personal relationships with their children. Also referred to as latchkey kids, Gen Xers often spent their downtime conversing with friends via email, channel surfing on the television, or playing video games. They also seemed to have a deep interest in musical genres associated with social-tribal identities, including punk rock and heavy metal. This meant that music became an important self-identifying factor, even influencing the type of attire an individual wore on a daily basis. In the 1960s and 1970s, a countercultural movement known as the hippie era catalyzed other self-identifying factors — especially for those who identified as members of the LGBTQ+ community. American writer Allen Ginsberg formed the core of the movement as he openly opposed all military efforts, sexual repression, and capitalism.9 Ginsburg also identified as gay, serving as positive a role model for members of the LGBTQ+ community and allies alike. 10 9 Silos, Jill Katherine. "Everybody Get Together: The Sixties Counterculture & Public Space, 1964-1967." University of New Hampshire Scholars' Repository, 2003. 10 Eleven years of Chameleon issues were released during Generation X but were mostly written by students who were born during the Baby Boomers generation (1946-1964). Brown 10 Generation X Overview of Significant Events • Selma to Montgomery marches promote voting rights for African Americans (1965). • Thurgood Marshall becomes the first African American Supreme Court Justice (1965). • Immigration & Nationality Act outlaws de facto discrimination against immigrants (1965). • Voting Act outlaws racial discrimination in voting (1965). • Malcolm X is assassinated (1965). • Watts Riots occur in light of Marquette Frye's arrest (1965). • Nation Organization for Women is established (1966). • American Indian Movement is founded (1967). • Detroit Riot sheds blood between black residents and the Detroit Police Department (1967). • Martin Luther King Jr. is assassinated (1968). • Fair Housing Act outlaws discrimination regarding housing (1968). • Shirley Chisholm becomes the first black woman elected to Congress (1968). • East Los Angeles Walkouts are organized by Mexican American students (1968). • Stonewall Riots call for LGBTQ+ members to respond to police raids (1969). • Swann v. Charlotte-Mecklenburg becomes a landmark Supreme Court case (1971). • AIM protests against injustice under law enforcement towards Native Americans (1972). • Roe v. Wade becomes a landmark Supreme Court case (1973). • Billie Jean King wins the "Battle of the Sexes" tennis match (1973). • Beverly Johnson becomes the first black model on the cover of Vogue (1974). Brown 11 Generation X Relevance to The Chameleon "The pedestrian Walks, talks, and discriminates On such vital and valid criteria as Color, breeding and religion. Sees sex, and is offended. Grows indignant. Has a firm conviction that freedom of speech sometimes goes too far When it lets Martin Luther King "cause trouble" and "incite" riots" (1965). —- An excerpt from "The Pedestrian" by Jacob Sartz Unlike most pieces of writing from the 1960s publishings, this free verse poem seems to call out the discriminatory tendencies of others. The author especially targets any person whose ideologies are rooted in racism, sexism, and other gateways leading to unequal treatment. By labeling them as the pedestrian, such subtlety creates an effect where anyone can be the principal character and thus the reader may begin to question their own actions. As the author begins to shift towards a more political ambiance, African American activist Martin Luther King Jr. is mentioned. From the pedestrian's perspective, however, King is known to overstep the principle of free speech with the exception of cases where it benefits the white majority. Brown 12 "He had gone through a variety of different girls in the next six years, and he had accumulated an assortment of different names in his address book, including a few of the local sweethearts that he'd called up in dire sexual emergencies… When he had heard that his little "streetlight girl" had been married, he put a check next to her name in the book as he had done for several other old flames that had been put out of commission for one reason or another. He thought of her a little while after that, but closed the book as he had always done" (1970). —- An excerpt from "The Street Light" by Paul LeSage Unlike our example directly above, there are several alarming factors sprinkled throughout this short story, revealing how a man uses the sexual objectification of women to his advantage. The man's use of an address book further proves this implication as the women he has been sexually involved with are jotted down in writing. Visually speaking, the reader may think of a grocery list or an inventory of stock goods when it comes to the address book's description. The man proceeds to check off the women who no longer sexually benefit him all while refusing to use their real names, ultimately dehumanizing them in the process. This allows the reader to further explore the harmful effects of sexual objectification, pushing them to decipher the differences between sex and sexualizing.11 11 Many other excerpts were found focusing on a more negative portrayal of the BIPOC community and women during this time. However, there was no mention of LGBTQ+ members. Brown 13 Generation Y | 1981 - 1996 Brief Historical Background Many of those who were either born into this generation or lived through it prioritized their careers and personal interests above marriage. This means that they were having fewer children than their predecessors. Like Gen Xers, Millenials were known to be tech-savvy with a specific preference to communicate through email or text. MTV brought them further reason to enjoy screen time when the cable channel was launched in 1981. Originally created to showcase music videos, MTV quickly moved to television personalities. Michael Jackson, for example, served as the precedent for television personalities and leading artists, topping the charts throughout the duration of the 1980s. He eventually became one of the most well-loved television personalities who dedicated much of his offscreen time to charitable efforts. Prince, Whitney Houston, Diana Ross, and many others followed closely behind. Based on the increased media representation of minority artists, it's safe to say that this particular time frame allowed for people of color to debut their own music videos for the first time. This urged the public to gravitate towards soul music and R&B, marking the start of this generation's willingness to embrace black creators. Alongside music, technological advances in STEM were budding with breakthroughs. Women paved the way towards many of these breakthroughs under large startups and federal organizations, inspiring younger girls to do the same through higher education. 12 12 Eighteen years of Chameleon issues were released during Generation Y but mostly written by students who were born during Generation X (1965-1976). Brown 14 Generation Y Overview of Significant Events • Asian American/Pacific Islander Heritage Week is implemented in May (1979). • Boston African American National Historic Site is established (1980). • AIDS Epidemic begins, causing numerous deaths in the LGBTQ+ community (1981). • Sandra Day O'Connor is nominated as the first female Supreme Court Justice (1981). • Federation of Survival Schools leads legal education seminars for Native students (1984). • Ellison Onizuka, the first Asian-American in space, dies in the Challenger disaster (1986). • Minneapolis AIM Patrol refocuses on protecting native women in Minneapolis (1987). • Sally K. Ride becomes the first American woman in space (1983). • Susan Kare made typeface contributions to the first Apple Macintosh (1983). • Michael Jordan is named the NBA's "Rookie of the Year " (1985). • Nadia Perlman invents the spanning-tree protocol (1985). • Carole Ann-Marie Gist becomes the first African American to win Miss USA (1990). • Freddie Mercury dies from AIDS (1991). • Rodney King is brutally beaten by LAPD officers (1991). • AIM revives the Sun Dance ceremony in Pipestone, Minnesota (1991). • Los Angeles Riots result in numerous deaths and $1 billion in damage (1992). • Mae Jemison becomes the first African American woman in space (1992). • National Coalition in Sports & Media Forms is established by native leaders (1992). • "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" bars the LGBTQ+ community from military service (1993). Brown 15 Generation Y Relevance to The Chameleon "I slowly adapt myself to another man's world, But I soon realize that my character is a reflection Of a foreign spectrum I see myself through another man's eyes, My words come from another man's mouth, And my ideals are relocated from another man's mind" (1980). —- An excerpt from "A Nostalgic Experience" by Noble Francis Allen America's social construction has continued to uphold whiteness throughout the duration of its history, while people of color must condition themselves to that of the norm. In this case, the author speaks in the first person, signifying their position as the principal character who is faced with having to mirror the way others perceive the world. This implies that the narrator may have had a weakened sense of self-identity at the time this poem was written. Self-identity is an especially important feature as it consists of the traits, characteristics, social relations, and roles that define who one is. An individual's racial and ethnic 13 background is also included within the same realm due to the distinguishment of their given group's cultural values, kinship, and beliefs.14 13 Oyserman, Daphna, and George Smith. "Self, Self-Concept, and Identity." Handbook of Self and Identity, edited by Kristen Elmore, 2nd ed., The Guilford Press, New York, NY, 2012, pp. 69–104. 14 Woo, Bongki, et al. "The Role of Racial/Ethnic Identity in the Association Between Racial Discrimination & Psychiatric Disorders: A Buffer or Exacerbator?" SSM - Population Health, vol. 7, 7 Apr. 2019, p. 100378., https:// doi.org/10.1016/j.ssmph.2019.100378. Brown 16 "Across his back is a deerskin quiver, and in the quiver, there are seven feathered arrows. Gripped in his sweaty palm is an oak bow. A golden-handled sword, whose blade is as long as a man's leg, hangs from his waist. Its once binding shine has been replaced by a thick coat of blood. His skin is the color of golden honey, and his hair is the reflection of yellow sunshine… A woman emerges from the foliage of the wildwood. Warm sunshine gleams off of browned skin. Raven-black hair drops over a slender neck, and ends upon soft shoulders. Unsuspecting almond-eyes gaze wildly at the sky. She is nude. Her breasts are round, full, and tipped with chocolate nipples. A thin waist gives way to broad hips, and eventually slender legs" (1980). —- An excerpt from "A Blind Odin" by Mitchell T. Kubiak This short story, "A Blind Odin," depicts a deep contrast between the description of a man and the description of a woman. The man embodies characteristics associated with a skilled hunter, such as strength and courage. The woman, however, is only described based on her physical features, all of which seem to align with the male gaze. For those who are not familiar with feminist theory, the male gaze is perceived from a masculine heterosexual perspective with aspects of voyeurism, objectification, fetishism, and scopophilia attached.15 Further descriptions of the woman's bodily proportions also suggest clues about the author, although it is crucial for the reader to understand that Norwich University had very few female candidates at the time this short story was written. 16 15 Snow, Edward. "Theorizing the Male Gaze: Some Problems." Representations, vol. 25, 1989, pp. 30–41., https:// doi.org/10.2307/2928465. 16 Many other excerpts were found focusing on both positive and negative portrayals of the BIPOC community and women during this time. However, there was no mention of LGBTQ+ members. Brown 17 Generation Z | 1997 - 2009 Brief Historical Background Gen Zers are the first to experience technological advances from birth onward. Once the majority reached adolescence, it became evident that there was a growing demand for portable devices. Although the first smartphone was released by IBM during the early 1990s, its overall bulkiness and poor battery life were not ideal for communication lines. Apple has since become the most popular phone brand in the United States. It also helped that the company released the iPod, a portable music device with, at the time, the ability to store over 200 songs. The same year also marked the events of several terrorist attacks on September 11th. Two jet airliners shattered the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center in a series of terrorist attacks, killing nearly 3,000 people and injuring twice as many. Those responsible were later identified as members of al-Quaeda, a militant Islamist organization led by Saudi Arabian terrorist Osama bin Laden. Life became all the more difficult for Muslim Americans as they continuously experienced the dangers of Islamophobia on a daily basis. Such dangers surrounded an ongoing spike in hate crimes, ranging from cold-blooded murder to vandalism of places of worship. Even when there was a slight decline in hate crimes years later, Muslim Americans continued to struggle with employment discrimination. Many of those who practiced Islam were either laid off or turned away during the hiring process for reasons directly relating to their religion. By the end of Generation Z, religion no longer served as a determining factor during the hiring process and diversity became a primary focus in the workplace. 17 17 Thirteen years of Chameleon issues were released during Generation Z but were mostly written by students who were born during Generation Y (1977-1995). Brown 18 Generation Z Overview of Significant Events • Gary Locke becomes the first Asian American governor of a mainland state (1996). • Kalpana Chawla boards Columbia as the first woman in space of Indian origin (1997). • Serena Williams wins the U.S. Open Women's Singles Tennis Championship (1999). • Maurice Ashley becomes the world's first black Grandmaster in chess (2000). • Permanent Partners Immigration Act is introduced to Congress (2000). • Equality Mississippi is founded as an LGBT civil rights organization (2000). • Millennium March on Washington raises awareness of LGBT issues (2000). • Elaine Chao is selected as the first Asian American to be Secretary of Labor (2001). • Patriot Act allows the indefinite detention of immigrants and warrantless searches (2001). • Cincinnati-based riots spark unrest following Timothy Thomas' death (2001). • Balbir Singh Sodhi's death is deemed the first fatal act of violence as a result of 9/11 (2001). • Dennis Archer becomes the first African American to be President of the ABA (2002). • Goodridge v. Dept. of Public Health becomes a landmark Supreme Court case (2003). • Grutter v. Bollinger becomes a landmark Supreme Court Case (2003). • Same-sex marriage is first legalized in the state of Massachusetts (2004). • Del Martin and Phyllis Lyon are wed, becoming the first legal same-sex marriage (2004). • Condoleezza Rice is named the first black woman to be Secretary of State (2005). • Nancy Pelosi becomes the first female Speaker of the U.S. House of Representatives (2007). • Barack Obama is elected as the first African American to hold office (2009). Brown 19 Generation Z Relevance to The Chameleon "You called me a fa***t and said no one would love me But I am here to say what goes around comes around And now it's your turn to get knocked down" (2004). —- An excerpt from "The Bastard Son" by James A. Hoffman Now used as a slur in reference to homosexual men and boys, the term fa***t has its own unique origin. The term's former use in the Norwegian dialect was originally emplaced to describe a bundle of firewood. Because these bundles were large in size, the term eventually moved towards describing heavyset women who were often seen as slovenly and thus placing them near the bottom of all social classes. When British English ha 18 d made a far greater influence on the Scandinavian languages, the term was combined with bugger, also known as a person who engages in anal or oral sex. Premodern Europe was known to persecute heretics during this time, including homosexuals, as they did not conform to the belief systems of the Church. 19 This short story, "The Bastard Son," is one of the first positive representations of LGBTQ+ members found in the Chameleon as the narrator gains the courage to speak against negative attitudes and feelings surrounding the LGBTQ+ community. 18 Johansson, Warren. "The Etymology of the Word 'Fa***t'." William Percy. 19 Karras, Ruth Mazo. "The Regulation of 'Sodomy' in the Latin East & West." Speculum, vol. 95, no. 4, 2020, pp. 969–986., https://doi.org/10.1086/710639. Brown 20 Generation Z Relevance to The Chameleon "Mother, you are the greatest woman I know. I have based my life upon yours, all the great things you have done and all the obstacles that you were able to overcome; the thing that I admire most about you is the fact that you were a single mother of four and didn't need a man's help, but I always knew that was a great challenge for me, in this world that is much too different from the one that you grew up. To me, that was the greatest obstacle that you conquered" (2004). —- An excerpt from "Mother's Love" by A.M.T Lebron In this dedication, "Mother's Love," the author retrieves past memories in writing to celebrate their mother. It is not often that Norwich student contributors write about the entailments of motherhood. Although it remains unclear whether the author's mother was divorced, widowed, or remained unmarried, the family has a relentless source of love for one another and proceeds to use their shared affection to overcome challenges. Such challenges include economic hardships and increased states of stress as a single mother often relies on one source of income. There is also reason to believe that those raised in similar households develop a sense of independence resembling that of their mother. Some may even develop additional 20 internal resources that will allow them to construct their own identity far from the gender roles typically seen within the American household. 21 20 Kinser, Amber E. Motherhood & Feminism. Seal Press, 2010. 21 Many other excerpts were found focusing on both positive and negative portrayals of minority communities and women. Brown 21 Generation Alpha | 2010 - Present Brief Historical Background Many of those who are either born into this generation or currently living through it witness technological advances at an accelerating rate to the extent of replacing the previously known means of childhood entertainment with mobile devices and streaming services. The dawning of this generation also brought Instagram, the most frequently preferred social media platform to date. The thought of having children was generally delayed across the United States following the economic crisis of 2008, while young adults reportedly dealt with increasing stress from education debt. Following the economic crisis of 2008, it is not uncommon for young adults to deal with increasing stress from education debt. Many Gen Zers who previously planned on extending their families during this time were also affected as financial worries prevented them from having children. In 2020, the COVID-19 pandemic caused further economic turmoil when small businesses had to close down to prevent the spread of the virus. Those who were employed under larger corporations, however, moved their offices to home. Between dual-career families and remote work, the boundaries separating professional and personal life became blurred. 22 Such challenges have proved that the young faces of Generation Alpha are capable of resilience, utilizing their own diverse backgrounds to tackle the more difficult questions. This includes advocating for fairness in all aspects of society and questioning the validity of gender. 22 Jha, Amrit Kumar. "Understanding Generation Alpha ." OSF Preprints, 20 June 2020. Brown 22 Generation Alpha Overview of Significant Events • Apple's iPad is released, also known as the first touchscreen tablet PC (2010). • President Barack Obama begins his second term (2013). • Defense Against Marriage Act is struck down by the Supreme Court (2013). • Black Lives Matter emerges as a political movement (2013). • Michael Brown is fatally shot by a Ferguson police officer (2014). • Nine African Americans churchgoers are killed during a Bible study in Charleston (2015). • Same-sex marriage is legalized in all 50 states (2015). • Pulse Nightclub shooting causes the deaths of 49 LGBTQ+ members (2016). • Unite the Right, a white supremacist rally, leads to three deaths in Charlottesville (2017). • Me Too movement is relaunched following the Harvey Weinstein accusations (2017). • Director Jon M. Chu breaks box office records with his film Crazy Rich Asians (2018). • California Synagogue shooting causes the injuries of three and the death of one (2019). • President Trump's wall receives $2.5 billion in funds under the Supreme Court (2019). • Kobe Bryant, along with his daughter, dies in a helicopter crash (2020). • Geroge Floyd is murdered by a Minneapolis police officer during an arrest (2020). • Kamala Harris becomes the 49th vice president (2021). • Spa shooting in Atlanta leaves eight dead, with six being of Asian descent (2021). Brown 23 Generation Alpha Relevance to The Chameleon "It had only been four days since I was bought from the Greens. The Green House was known for cutting off the body parts of slaves and letting them bleed out slowly or waiting for them to die of infection. They used to take other slaves to the field and pick different parts to cut off. If they cut off too much and you couldn't work anymore, they'd leave the bodies in the field as an example of what happens when you make mistakes. " (2019). —- An excerpt from "Mixed Voices" by Alain Cropper-Makidi The author moves to educate the reader on a particular building utilized during America's slavery period. Also known as the Green House, the building lay separate from the main house and lodged slaves who were being punished for fieldwork mistakes. Whipping, burning, branding, raping, and imprisoning were some of the most common punishments for slaves. However, the Green House resorted to dismembering the slaves' limbs and allowing them to bleed out. This short story, "Mixed Voices," also addresses that some slaves received educational instruction from the main house's mistress. This was most likely executed in secret as slaves were generally prohibited from reading and writing out of fear that they would forge travel passes and escape. 23 23 "Literacy as Freedom - American Experience." SAAM, Smithsonian American Art Museum, https:// americanexperience.si.edu/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/Literacy-as-Freedom.pdf. Brown 24 "One day You tell me that let's be Together I shake my head Say I'm tired of your lies Rather to get myself alone" (2020). 有⼀天 你对我说我们在⼀起吧 我摇摇头 说我厌倦了你的虚伪 宁愿孤独 —- An excerpt from "Untitled" by Zenghui Zhang Like several others, this poem was both written and translated by a student under Professor Lenny Hu. Since his arrival at Norwich, Professor Hu has assigned his Chinese students the task of writing and translating poetry. This allows them to expand their Chinese literacy and gain a sense of passion for the language itself. As the Norwich language department continues to grow, translations will continue to be included in future Chameleon issues for the benefit of promoting diverse students and staff who already understand or aim to learn beyond that of the English language. Brown 25 Conclusion Sustains & Improves After reviewing all past issues of the Chameleon, it is clear that Norwich's literary journal previously published pieces of writing representing LGBTQ+ members, the BIPOC community, and women in a negative light. This was especially true from 1961 through the late 1990s. Gradually, the Chameleon has begun to positively represent our communities. During our current time period, for example, positive representations have become the primary focus under Professor Sean Prentiss and his team of student editors who have made a conscious effort in improving the Chameleon as a whole. Student writers who distinguish themselves amongst the rest of the student body are oftentimes selected for awards. One of which is the "Be You, Be True Prize" for the best writing by or about the LGBTQ+ community. Additionally, many Norwich University professors currently include culturally sustaining pedagogies within their curricula. Such pedagogies include seeking nontraditional texts, merging language varieties, and encouraging students to explore cultural spaces. To maintain as well as improve such efforts, Norwich University affiliates must remain aware that America's long history of combating minorities often resulted in bloodshed. Although not to the extent of our previous generations, similar events still continue to occur today. Therefore, as one of the most renowned military colleges in the United States, it is our responsibility to protect minority students and ensure that they perceive themselves as valuable members of the community. Without them, the future stands for nothing. Brown 26 References Anderson, Gary C. Ethnic Cleansing & the Indian: The Crime That Should Haunt America. University Of Oklahoma Press, 2015. "APA Dictionary of Psychology." American Psychological Association, https:// dictionary.apa.org/social-representation. Jha, Amrit Kumar. "Understanding Generation Alpha ." OSF Preprints, 20 June 2020. Johanssen, Warren. "The Etymology of the Word F*****." William Percy, pp. 356–359. Kapadia, Reshma. "The Tulsa Massacre Left a Lasting Impact on Wealth." Trade Journal, vol. 101, no. 22, 31 May 2021. Karras, Ruth Mazo. "The Regulation of 'Sodomy' in the Latin East & West." Speculum, vol. 95, no. 4, 2020, pp. 969–986., https://doi.org/10.1086/710639. Kinser, Amber E. Motherhood & Feminism. Seal Press, 2010. "Literacy as Freedom - American Experience." SAAM, Smithsonian American Art Museum, https://americanexperience.si.edu/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/Literacy-as-Freedom.pdf. Nohria, Nitin, Anthony Mayo, and Mark Benson. "William Levitt, Levittown and the Creation of American Suburbia." Harvard Business School Case 406-062, December 2005. (Revised March 2010.) Oyserman, Daphna, and George Smith. "Self, Self-Concept, and Identity." Handbook of Self and Identity, edited by Kristen Elmore, 2nd ed., The Guilford Press, New York, NY, 2012, pp. 69–104. Brown 27 Pryor, Elizabeth Stordeur. "The Etymology of N*****: Resistance, Politics, and the Politics of Freedom in the Antebellum North." Colored Travelers: Mobility and the Fight for Citizenship before the Civil War, 2016, https://doi.org/10.5149/northcarolina/ 9781469628578.003.0002. Silos, Jill Katherine. "Everybody Get Together: The Sixties Counterculture & Public Space, 1964-1967." University of New Hampshire Scholars' Repository, 2003. Snow, Edward. "Theorizing the Male Gaze: Some Problems." Representations, vol. 25, 1989, pp. 30–41., https://doi.org/10.2307/2928465. Tenaglia, Sean. '"Seeing Yourself in the Story:' The Influence of Multicultural Education on Adolescent Identity Formation." The Virginia English Journal, vol. 68, 2018. Woo, Bongki, et al. "The Role of Racial/Ethnic Identity in the Association Between Racial Discrimination & Psychiatric Disorders: A Buffer or Exacerbator?" SSM - Population Health, vol. 7, 7 Apr. 2019, p. 100378., https://doi.org/10.1016/j.ssmph.2019.100378.
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Review for Religious - Issue 47.4 (July/August 1988)
Issue 47.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1988. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published eveD' two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The edito-rial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO. 63108-3393. REVIEW FOR RELiGiOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. ©1988 by REVIEW FOR RELIG~OUS. Single copies $3.00. Subscriptions: U.S.A. $12.00 a year; $22.00 for two years. Other countries: for surface mail, add $5.00 per year; for airmail, add $20.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write: REwEw FOR RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Philip C. Fischer, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read M. Anne Maskey, O.S.F. Acting Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editors July/August 1988 Volume 47 Number 4 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to Rwv~v.w Eon RvJ.w.~ous; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Rich-ard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave., Berkeley, CA 94709. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from Rwv~v.w FOR Rv.~,w, lous; 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, M! 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. Jesus and Francis as Gospel Makers: An Experience in Kenosis Jude Winkler, O.F.M.Conv. This paper is adapted from lhe keynote address of the 1987 meeting of the Inter-province Conference of the Conventual Franciscans. Father Jude is slationed al St. Hyacinth College and Seminary; Granby, Massachusetts 01033. When one speaks of Jesus and Francis as Gospel makers, one is led to ask exactly what is meant by the term "Gospel." Probably the best way to respond to that question is to consider the formation of a particular Gospel. This will help one to determine which material the community considered to be so essential, so central to the message of Christ that it was necessary to pass it down to future generations of Christians. The starting point, therefore, is an individual Christian community: the com-munity which produced the first Gospel, that written by the evangelist Mark. Although there are other opinions, most scholars believe that the Gospel of Mark was written in Rome around 70 A.D. How could one describe Rome and the Roman Christian community of those days? Rome was the center of the Western world. Wealth poured in from the empire, which stretched from the English Channel to the Syrian De-sert. In certain ways the city was reaching the apex of its magnificence. The ruins from the great fire under Nero had been removed and much 0f the city was being rebuilt, this time in marble and not wood. A sense of the glory of Rome can be found in chapter 18 of the Book of Revela-tion, where John speaks of the many products that could be bought and sold in that city. Yet there was also a certain amount of instability in the Roman psyche in 70 A.D. The previous decade had witnessed the forced suicide of Nero and the two-year period during which three different em-perors ruled the empire. The civil war which ensued had been as bad as 481 482 / Review for Religious, July-August 1988 that which had followed the death of Julius Caesar, and it had left the empire badly shaken. As often happened in the ancient world, instabil-ity in Rome had led to rebellion in the provinces. One example of this is the fact that the Romans were only now crushing a troublesome rebel-lion in Palestine. In addition to this, the social fabric of the city had de-generated over the past several decades. Large numbers of slaves had been brought to Rome following the conquests of new territories. Be-cause there were so many slaves to do work which had formerly been done by members of the lower middle class and the artisans of Rome, large numbers of people had been put out of work. These unemployed masses were fed by the public dole and kept occupied by the spectacles sponsored by the government (the proverbial bread and circuses). Thus, even though imperial power was great and the empire would soon reach its greatest expanse, there was something unsettled in the Roman char-acter. Essentially, the city was socially, morally, and spiritually bank-rupt. This is most evident in the fact that large numbers of Romans were participating in various mystery cults that had arrived from the east. They were looking for something which would give their lives purpose. And what of the Christian community of Rome? The community had been founded as early as the forties during the reign of Emperor Claudius, but it was not yet very large. The first missionaries to Rome were probably Jewish Christians from the Jerusalem community. This young church had suffered persecution: an edict had been issued by Claudius which expelled certain Jews (most probably the Jewish Chris-tians) from Rome because of difficulties caused by a troublemaker named Crestus (most probably a form ofChristus = Christ). Recently there had been the persecution under Nero in which both Peter and Paul are said to have died. Further complicating the situation was some internal dis-sent in the community: From what can be gleaned from Paul's Letter to the Romans, it is obvious that there was a bit of tension between those who had allied themselves with a more Jewish interpretation of the Chris-tian life and those who followed Paul's ideas. Add to that the fact that most of the new converts in the city were now coming from the Gentiles (and would thus be less likely to defend the old Jewish ways) and one can see that there was bound to be some confusion. And now, some forty or fifty years after the death and resurrection of Jesus, another crisis was facing this fledgling church: the apostles and the disciples who had known Jesus were dying. One after another the wit-nesses to the Christ event were passing from the scene. This would be especially frightening in a time of instability. For the Jewish Christians Gospel Makers and Kenosis / 41~3 of Rome, there was the confusion of the Jewish rebellion in Palestine which had resulted in the destruction of the temple. The building which they had called the dwelling place of God on earth was now a ruin, and the Jewish Christians did not know what to make of this. Would Juda-ism continue? For the Gentile Christians, there was the political and so-cial instability. For,the entire Christian community, there was the uncer-tainty of which direction the Church was taking. Would it remain a Jew-ish sect or would it become something radically new? What would unify the Church and give it stability? It was in this context that the Gospel of Mark was produced. Its author, whether or not he was actually the John Mark mentioned in the Acts of the Apostles, wrote it so that the Gospel message of what Jesus had done and said, of how he had died and rose, might be passed down. His Gospel would become the ballast which steadied the course of the Roman church in those troubled times. ¯ Given all of this, one would certainly have some expectations about how this Gospel would present the character of Jesus. If the Gospel were intended for the Jewish-Christian audience, one would expect Jesus to be the perfect fulfillment of all the Old Testament prophecies. He would be the Messiah whose power was greater than that of the Romans. If the Gospel were intended for the pagans, then Jesus would have to be at least as great as the pagan gods. Mark would have to show, as did Moses and Elijah, that the God of Israel was far superior to the gods of the Gen-tiles. For either audience, this Jesus would have to manifest his power and authority openly, for the people needed a wonder worker, a great hero who would give them hope in these troubled times. And yet, oddly enough, this is the exact opposite of the Jesus pre-sented by the Gospel of Mark. While one would expect a powerful and glorious Messiah, Mark presents one who is weak and lowly, one who has embraced an emptying Out (kenosis) of his divinity, as Paul describes it in the Letter to the Philippians when he speaks of Jesus who had been in the form of God but who emptied himself by becoming human and even dying on the cross. This idea is presented ina number of ways in the Gospel, but the most evident is the so-called Messianic secret. Over and over again Jesus commands his disciples and the demons whom he has expelled to be silent concerning the fact that he is Messiah. Why should he do that when the entire purpose of the Gospel is to show that he is, in fact, the Messiah? The reason is that his audience has the wrong idea of what it means to be the Messiah. They want a political Messiah who will manifest himself in power. Jesus is not that type of Messiah, 484 / Review for Religious, July-August 1988 and he refuses to be categorized in that way. Peter's profession of faith at Caesarea Philippi makes that clear. Je-sus has asked his disciples who people think that he is. Peter responds that some think that he is a prophet and others that he is John the Bap-tist. He then asks Peter who he thinks he is. Peter responds that he is the Messiah. Jesus commends him on this and then describes how the Mes-siah will have to suffer and die. When Peter hears this, he cannot be-lieve what Jesus is saying. He is sure that the Messiah will become a king and that he, Peter himself, will rule with him. Here Jesus is predicting defeat. This is too much for Peter; it is obviously a bad mistake. So Pe-ter takes Jesus aside and tells him not to say these things. Jesus responds harshly, telling Peter to get behind him .and calling him Satan, the tempter; This misunderstanding by the apostles is repeated again in later chap-ters when Jesus again predicts his passion. Once, as a response to the prediction, the apostles argue about who the greatest among them might be while another time James and John ask to be seated at his right and left when he comes into glory. He is telling them that he will die, and all they are interested in is to divide his inheritance. Why do the apos-tles and even the family of Jesus speak in such an inappropriate man-ner? Why do they have such a difficult time understanding who he is and what his being Messiah means? Basically it is because their entire con-ception of God is mistaken. They think that God will come in power on the Day of the Lord to defeat the powers of evil, such as the Romans and the Pharisees. Instead, Jesus defeats them in weakness. As John would later state, Jesus was the king who ruled from a tree, the cross. It was exactly in this emptying out that evil was defeated, for while the powers of evil clung to power and tried to exercise it over others, Jesus clung to love and wanted to share it with all. That is the point behind the temptations of Peter and the apostles as well as the temptation in the desert. Even the taunts with which the crowd jeered Jesus, that he should come down off the cross, are a call to power. If Jesus had come down from the cross, he would have shown himself to be God almighty, but since love necessarily involves a sacrifice of self, he could not have shown himself to be loving. The author of the Book of Revelation presents this same idea with the images of the lion and the lamb. In the Book of Revelation, that which one sees is that which is superficial while that which one hears is the spiritual significance. John sees a lamb which was slain, and he hears that it is the lion of Judah. This lion of Judah was one of the fa- Gospel Makers and Kenosis / 485 vorite symbols for the Messiah in the Old Testament. The lion of Judah was a symbol for power. A lion conquers by tearing apart its enemies, and this was what the Messiah was supposed to do--defeat his enemies with power. This particular lion is different, however, for it will con-quer by dying. This becomes evident when one realizes that this lion is also the lamb who conquered evil by allowing himself to be slain. In other words, all of the Old Testament prophecies concerning the Mes-siah in which he is seen as a powerful conqueror are turned on their head. He would not be a paradigm of power but rather of powerlessness. This is the greatest of the ironies of the Gospel message. This einptying out of oneself is not only intended for the Messiah, but it is an open invitation and a necessary prerequisite for a life of dis-cipleship. Unless you take up your cross and follow me, you cannot en-ter the kingdom of God. If you would save your life, you must lose it. Sell all you have, give it to the poor, and then come, follow me. The consequences of such a surrender are frightening, for it means a loss of control. It means living totally for and in another and never being sure where the life of discipleship will lead one, The foxes have their lairs and the birds (Jr the air have their nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head. But he who had invited them to this life of radical faith was himself faithful. The very fact that he allowed his story to be told in this Gos-pel, the fact that his living spirit infused these human words with that which was divine, proved that he would never abandon his loved ones. For these words, the words of the Gospel, were inspired, and this inspi-ration was itself an example of kenosis. Theologians sometimes speak of inspiration as if the Holy Spirit were an executive dictating a letter to a secretary, the evangelist. But this image does not respect the human dimension of the process or the great love expressed by God in allowing his word to undergo a kenosis. Msgr. Edelby, who spoke at the Second Vatican Council, suggested another model: Just as the Holy Spirit entered into Mary and joined the eternal Word of God with that which was human and thus produced the Word made flesh, so also the Spirit inspired (breathed into) those who wrote so that the eternal Word of God entered into that which was hu-man, their human ability to write and their own talents and energy and purpose, and they gave birth to the word made flesh, this time the Gos-pels. In other words, the divine word of God became enfleshed in hu-man words with all that that means. It was st~bject to the weakness of human expression. One example of this is the horrendous literary style 486 / Review for Religious, July-August 1988 of the Gospel of Mark. Unlike the other Gospels, it is a pasting together of various preexistent sources that barely become a narrative. One would almost think that it was written by a high school freshman writing his first term paper. He went and photocopied twenty or so articles (or, in this case, preexistent sources), cut out the important sections, and stuck them together with his glue pen. And yet this Gospel contains the eter-nal word of God. What greater sign of love could God give this commu-nity, what better way to guide them in this time of confusion? God was clearly showing the community that he would work in and through weak-ness. And the miracle of God's love does not even end there. Just as the eternal Word of God joined with that which was human in Mary and be-came the Word of God made flesh, and just as the eternal word of God joined with that which was human in the literary talents of the evangel-ist and became another manifestation of God's kenosis, so his word, the Gospel message, joined that which was human, the individual Christian of the community, to become a new manifestation of God's presence, his body, the Church. The community, insofar as it cooperated with the grace of God, became a continuation of the IncarnationS:'~ What are some of the consequences of this fact? One of the most im-portant is that, in combining with the human, the word of God necessar-ily assumed the weakness of that condition. God did not reject the hu-manity of the believers as the Gnostics and Docetists would have it, but he transformed that humanity so that it was to be that which God in-tended it to be. A practical application of this principle is to spirituality. We are not so much called to be perfect as to be faithful. If we were to seek to be perfect, freed from all weakness, we could very well be try-ing to control our own destiny and to show God that he owes us some-thing, that is, love, salvation, and so forth. In trying to be faithful, we admit our weakness and rely upon God's mercy and love, which enables us to do what we really cannot do on our own. Which raises a second consequence: In order to manifest God's pres-ence, we must surrender. Let it be done to me according to your word. Each believer is called to empty himself of that which is selfish, that which bespeaks control, and to place himself in the Lord's hands. We are to undergo metanoia. As was said before, that can be frightening, for we would like to know where we are going. We like to think that given the right formula, given the right therapist, and so forth, we could do it (a subtle form of Pelagianism). But the crucial message of the Chris-tian experience is that the believer really cannot make it, that sooner or Gospel Makers and Kenosis / 41~7 later we will hit the wall and realize that we are all fundamentally weak, broken, unable to save ourselves. When we finally admit that we are anawim, the lowly ones, and we reach out, it is then that we will allow the Spirit of the Lord to inspire us (to send his life-giving breath into flesh which was all but dead). Finally, one of the most disturbing consequences of this process is the fact that we are so human, even as a faith community. Who of us would not prefer to live among people who were more spiritually ma-ture, who would support us in our weakness and be perfect companions for the journey? Instead, what do we get--all too often we are the blind leading the blind. To the human eye, this community of ours barely looks like Christ incarnate, but to the eyes of faith it is obvious. Consider Mark's portrayal of Jesus and the apostles' difficulty in recognizing him as Messiah--it is the same difficulty we have in seeing Christ in our com-munities, which are so often so fleshly. And yet he is there, and if we put aside our prejudices and we become weak, we will see him. The New Testament saw this process of becoming a manifestation of the kenosis of Christ and speaks of it at length. Paul calls the believ-ers ambassadors of Christ in 2 Corinthians. The Acts of the Apostles serves as the second volume of the Gospel of Luke to show how this con-tinuation of the Incarnation provoked a response of faith among those who would listen. And then there are the Johannine writings, which are even more intimate. Everyone knows that love is one of the central themes of the Gospel of John, but some of the richness of that message is sometimes lost be-cause one fails to recognize all of the symbolic messages contained in the Gospel. For John and the author of the Book of Revelation, Christ is the bridegroom and the Church is his bride. Each follower of Christ, as a member of that Church, is to produce heirs for Christ. An example of this emphasis is the story of the woman at the well. This well story is actually a clever use of a leitmotif. A leitmotif is a set literary pattern that one finds throughout a literary work. One example is the set pattern that one would expect to find at the end of a western movie: the hero rides off into the sunset. The well stories are a leitmotif of the Old Testament. One meets one's spouse at a well. Isaac meets Re-bekah there (through Abraham's servant), Jacob meets Rachel, Moses meets Zipporah, and Ruth meets Boaz. Furthermore, one can tell what is important in the story by small changes in the set pattern. The normal pattern is that a man comes to the well, meets a woman who offers him water, and they decide to marry and live happily ever after. In the Jacob 488 / Review for Religious, July-August 1988 story, however, Jacob must first uncover the well, for it is covered by a heavy stone (a sign of his difficulty in being able to marry her). With Ruth, it is the man who offers the woman water, for she is a foreigner and is being invited into the people of Israel. What of the Samaritan woman at the well? Sheis intended to be a symbol for the bride of Christ, the Church. Like the Church (and Israel), she has been married five times before, chasing after any god who offered her what she wanted. The woman offers Jesus water, but he offers her a different water, one that signifies the spiritual life that he would give her. They would not cling to each other in human form (as did the Jews in Jerusalem and the Sa-maritans on Mount Gerazim), but would live a spiritual marriage. Their marriage would be fruitful, for she would become a spring which would overflow (a spring or well being a symbol of her'womb which would pro-duce many children for the Lord). A second series of text.~ carries this message under the form of vo-cabulary taken from the Song of Songs. The Song of Songs is an Old Testament work which speaks of a very sensual love between a man and a woman. Even in Old Testament times it was interpreted as represent-ing the love of Yahweh for his people Israel. Two pericopes in the Gos-pel of John use that vocabulary extensively to remind the reader of that love. The first is when Mary anoints Jesus with oil in chapter 12 and the other is when Mary Magdalene searches for her beloved, the Lord, in chapter 20. Again, the message is clear in both: The women represent the Church which would be united to Christ in a spiritual marriage (that is, the order to Mary Magdalene not to cling to him for their marriage is not physical). Finally, there is a series of texts based upon the Old Testament levirite marriage institution. This institution was an attempt to ensure a progeny for a family. If a man died and had not produced a male child, then his next of kin would marry the widow and the first male child of this union would be named after the deceased husband. If the next of kin refused to marry her, she would take him .before the elders of the city and untie his sandal and spit in his face, saying that this was what a man deserved who would not give a descendant to his brother. John the Bap-tist, when asked whether he was the Messiah, responds that he is~not wor-thy to untie his sandal. This is not only a proclamation of humility; it is a message that he has no right to marry the widow (Israel, which had treated God as if he were dead). Jesus is the next of kin, and he will pro-duce an offspring. In fact, John speaks of how he rejoices at the voice of the bridegroom and he speaks of how that bridegroom must increase. Gospel Makers and Kenosis / 489 The word used when he speaks of how Christ must increase is the same word as that used when God tells humans to go forth and multiply in the Book of Genesis. In other words, John the Baptist is giving the best man's toast at a wedding, for he is wishing that Jesus have many chil-dren. But does Jesus have children? He really does not have any children during his lifetime, which explains another scene. Jesus tells his mother that John is to be her son, and he tells John that Mary is to be his mother. He is adopting John so that he (and the apostles) may bear children in his name (for they would, in fact, be called Christians). And when does Christ marry the Church? There are three possibili-ties. One of them is Pentecost, when the Spirit gives life to the Church. The Fathers of the Church also speak of two other possibilities. One of them is the Baptism of Jesus, when the Spirit comes upon Jesus in the form of a dove. Why a dove? Because it is a sign of love ("my little turtledove"). This is the love of Jesus and his Church. Still a third pos-sibility is on the cross. How do the first man and woman (Adam and Eve) marry? God took a rib from his ~side and formed woman. And the sol-dier pierced his side with a lance and immediately blood and water flowed out, the signs of his sacramental love for his bride, the Church. This message that Christ is our groom is sometimes distasteful to some males. Yet the image is not only operable but is profound as long as one leaves the image a bit vague. When we allow Christ's Spirit to enter us, we become one with Christ. Isn't that, after all, the purpose of the Eucharist? We take his flesh and make it one with our own. And the two of them shall become one flesh. In other words, the Eucharist is making love with God. And that union has to be fruitful, producing many offspring. Jesus: the union of the eternal Word of God and created flesh. The Gospel: the union of the eternal word of God and human lan-guage. The community: the union of the eternal Word of God and weak in-dividuals, each becoming a manifestation of Christ's presence. And what did all of this mean for Francis of Assisi? Francis was born in an age in which the kenosis of the eternal word of God had been deem-phasized. Historians speak of two major reasons for this deemphasis. The first has to do with the Arian heresy, which overemphasized the human-ity of Christ to the detriment of his divinity and which refused to recog-nize Jesus as the equal of God the Father. As a reaction to this heresy, many in the Church centered in upon the glory of the eternal Lord Je- 490 / Review for Religious, July-August 1988 sus. A second reason for the situation was the social conditions of the time: the feudal system. People tended to pattern their God upon the po-litical reality of the day, and so they made Christ into a feudal Lord who was to be obeyed, and not so much loved. Francis himself was a product of his age. This can be seen in his first futile attempt at conversion when he had a dream that he was to serve a great lord. He naturally interpreted this as a call to fight in one of the many wars for the cause of the Lord occurring in his day. He saw this call as a call to po~ver. It was only when he came to know his Lord that he realized that the call was actually one to powerlessness. It was no accident that his con-version is intimately tied to his vision of the crucifix speaking to him. In coming to know the Lord who empties himself of power and glory, he was able to recognize the need to surrender to the will of that Lord, to become smaller and humbler. As in the days of the origin of the Gos-pel of Mark, the opposite would have been expected. There were great upheavals o.ccurring in the world: political, economic, and religious. Fran-cis could have been expected to search for a model based upon a great emperor or a successful burgher or even the lofty Holy Father, but he chose none of them. He chose instead a Lord who became flesh and let that flesh be nailed to a tree. And because his Lord had emptied himself of power, Francis felt him-self called to do the same. He would strip himself of his father's clothes so that he could belong to the Lord alone. He would lay aside even those most deeply rooted prejudices such as his loathing of lepers and see them as children of God. Bonaventure reports: "Francis now developed a spirit of poverty, with a deep sense of humility and an attitude of pro-found compassion. He had never been able to stand the sight of lepers, even at a distance, and he always avoided meeting them, but now in or-der to arrive at perfect self-contempt he served them devoutly with all humility and kindness, because the prophet Isaiah tells us that Christ cru-cified was regarded as a leper and despised. He visited their houses fre-quently and distributed alms among them generously, kissing their hands and lips with deep compassion." In this surrender Francis went beyond the service of an ideal. He was not so much striving after perfection as being a man in love, for Francis had fallen head over heels in love with his God. He, like John the Evan-gelist, interpreted the kenosis of his Lord as an act" of unreserved love, and he wanted to respond in a like manner. He recognized, too, the con-tinuing kenosis of our Lord in his word and in the sacrament of his body Gospel Makers and Kenosis / 491 and blood. He had great devotion to the presence of God in his word. He wrote the following to a general chapter of his friars: "I urge all my friars and I encourage them in Christ to show all possible respect for God's words wherever they may happen to find the.m in writing. If they are not kept properly or if they lie thrown about disrespectfully, they should pick them up and put them aside, paying honor in his words to God who spoke them. God's words sanctify numerous objects, and it is by the power of the words of Christ that the sacrament of the altar is conse-crated." He believed that this word was effective, for he knew that it was a manifestation of the eternal word of God. As 2 Celano reports, "he often said that a man would easily move from knowledge of himself to a knowledge of God who would set himself to study the Scriptures hum-bly, not presumptuously." Likewise, knowing that the sacrament of the Eucharist is a continu-ation of the Incarnation and thus of the living kenosis of his Lord, he held it in greatest esteem. He admonished his friars over and over again to honor and respect that presence. His letter to all clerics is a good ex-ample: "We clerics cannot overlook the sinful neglect and ignorance some people are guilty of with regard to the holy body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ. They are careless, too, about his holy name and the writings which contain his words, the words that consecrate his body. We know his body is not present unless the bread is first consecrated by these words. Indeed, in this world there is nothing of the Most High him-self that we can possess and contemplate with our eyeslexcept his body and blood, his name and his words, by which we were created and by which we have been brought back from death to life." Francis, being thus in love with his Lord, did not limit his recogni-tion of the presence of the Lord to these signs. Bonaventure states that in everything beautiful he saw him who is beauty itself, and he followed his beloved everywhere by his likeness imprinted on creation. He saw a worm and thought of how the words of the suffering servant of Yah-weh were applied to Jesus, "I am a worm and not a man." He saw a lamb and remembered the lamb of God who died for his sins. He saw a bird or a fish and felt compelled to preach to it. Being one with his Lord, he saw him everywhere and in everything. And being one with his Lord, he shared his goals. Bonaventure re-ports that "enlightened by a revelation from heaven, Francis realized that he was sent by God to win for Christ the souls which the devil was 499 / Review for Religious, July-August 1988 trying to snatch away. And so he chose to live for the benefit of his fel-low men, rather than for himself alone, after the example of him who was so good as to die for all men." And like all loves, that of Francis and his Lord was fruitful. As John the Evangelist had done in his Gospel and its matrimonial symbolism, Francis exhorted the friars to produce offsprin~ for the Lord. He states' this in his letter to all the faithful: "We are to be servants and should be subject to every human creature for God's sake. On all those who do this and endure to the last, the Spirit of God will rest; he will make his dwelling in them and there he will stay, and they will be children of your Father in heaven, whose work they do. It is they who are the brides, the brothers, and the mothers of our Lord Jesus Christ. A person is his bride when his faithful soul is united with Jesus Christ by the Holy Spirit; we are his brothers when we do the will of his Father who is in heaven, and we are mothers to him when we enthrone him in our hearts and souls by° love with a pure and sincere conscience, and give him birth by doing good." The love affair of Francis and his God went even beyond this most intimate moment, though, for Francis was seen not only to produce off-spring ~or his God, but he came to be seen as a living sacrament of the presence of God. This is especially true in his stigmata. Bonaventure re-ports, "The fervor of his seraphic longing raised Francis to God and, in an ecstasy of compassion, made him like Christ, who allowed him-self to be crucified in the excess of his love. Then one morning about the feast of the exaltation of the holy cross, while he was praying on the mountainside, Francis saw a seraph with six fiery wings coming down from the highest point in the heavens. The vision descended swiftly and came to rest in the air near him. Then he saw the image of a man cruci-fied in the midst of the wings, with his hands and feet stretched out and nailed to a cross. Two of the wings were raised above his head and two were stretched out in flight, while the remaining two shielded his body. Francis was dumbfounded at the sight, and his heart flooded with a mix-ture of joy and sorrow. He was overjoyed at the way Christ regarded him so graciously under the appearance of a seraph, but the fact that he was nailed to a cross pierced his soul with a sword of compassionate sor-row." He was lost in wonder at the sight of this mysterious vision. He knew that the agony of Christ's passion was not in keeping with the state of a seraphic spirit, which is immortal. "Eventually he realized by divine inspiration that God had shown him this vision in his providence in or- Gospel Makers and Kenosis / 493 der to let him see that, as Christ's lover, he would resemble Christ cru-cified perfectly not by physical martyrdom, but by fervor of the spirit." And Bonaventure later adds, "True love of Christ had now transformed his lover into his image." It was no wonder that when Francis appea~-ed after his death to some of the friars, they asked each other whether it was Christ or Francis, for, as Celano reports, it seemed to the brother and all the great multitude that Christ and Blessed Francis were one and the same person. And so, as with the apostolic community, the early Franciscan com-munity was founded upon and became a manifestation of the kenosis of Christ. It celebrated his kenosis in his incarnation and passion; it es-teemed highly his continued kenosis in the sacraments of his body and his word; it became itself a manifestation of Christ's kenosis. Francis and each member of the community recognized that they were weak and lost, but when they were filled with the life-giving Spirit of God, they became fruitful and even sources of life. Having emptied themselves of pride, they never attributed that new life to themselves, but were always con-scious of how God had worked a miracle of love in them. They were so in love with the Beloved that they became his image. That is today's challenge. When we look at the example of Jesus and Francis and how each embraced a kenosis, we realize what we are to do. We are to empty ourselves of that which closes us off from God and each other. We do this by our own kenosis through listening, understanding, and challenging. We are to allow the life-giving Spirit of God to unite with our °weak and fragile self so that we may be healed or, even more precisely, be recreated in his image. We want that union of spirit and flesh to be fruitful as it was in Christ and Francis so that we can invite, so that we can make children for Christ. Finally, one of the most important ways of engendering children for the Lord is to tell our stories to each other. If we remember how the ap-ostolic community became a manifestation of Christ's presence, as did Francis and his followers, then we will fully appreciate the sacredness of sharing our experiences and our vocation stories. Our lives, insofar as we have cooperated with the grace of God, in spite of our great weak-nesses and very often through those very weaknesses, are manifestations of the kenosis of God. He has entered us and we have become one with him. Telling our stories, then, is not just an exercise in group dynamics. It is an anamnesis, a recalling and a re-presenting of sacred history. And in our sharing of our stories and our unveiling of the mystery of God's action in those stories, we make the word visible again and we permit 494 / Review for Religious, July-August 1988 the spirit to enflesh itself in the memories of our sisters and brothers. A warning needs to be given, though. This all sounds wildly opti-mistic, especially for those who have experienced the disappointments that seem almost inevitable when one lives in a Christian community. It really is not unrealistic, though, if we approach our stories with the eyes of faith. Just as the apostles had a difficult time accepting the di-vinity of Christ hidden under his human form and in Francis's day many had difficulty seeing God under the form of a host, so we might become cynical and look at our stories with eyes of flesh. The only way that we will be able to avoid that is by embracing a kenosis. We must empty our-selves of our pride and preconceptions and allow the Lord's grace to be seen. If we do that, we, like John and Francis, will prove ourselves to be men and women madly in love with our God, for we will be truly one with him. The Call: Basic Law of the Religious John M. Hamrogue, C.SS.R. Father Hamrogue preaches parish missions and gives retreats to priests and religious. He may be addressed at Our Lady of Perpetual Help Rectory; 526 59th Street; Brooklyn, New York 11220. In entering upon religious life, each of us promised to live up to the rule of our particular institute. We may be living out that promise happily or unhappily. The religious rule itself may pose very little problem on pa-per, especially since it probably sounds much less legalisti.c and more in-spirational than it used to. Still, we all have to cofiae to terms with this, that it catches us in a web of relationships inside and outside the com-munity, of duties, of places in which we must live and work, and of peo-ple we must live with and try to love. Very often we have little control over these things. So the religious rule still stands painfully for law, for what often comes into our life unbidden, for what we must accomplish and accept--for an alien brother or sister. But we all entered religious life in response to a Call, a conviction each of us had that we were entering this religious community because this was my life, because in choosing these convents or rectories or mon-asteries, because in freely giving ourselves over to our duties, we would find ourselves and our joy. We clutched a personal promise we thought we heard: that we would be holy, that our lives and works would mean something. But now we may be living with a frightful question: "Surely I was not deceived, was I? Surely someone made a promise to me!" The question may come of our own personal failures, but it may also arise out of a feeling that our religious rule and our community has failed us, in changing so much, or in changing so little. "Surely I have not made a big misiake with my life, have I?" 495 496 / Review for Religious, July-August 1988 All human beings ask questions like that about their lives, as they try to make sense of them. In trying to come to terms with our religious life, with how our dreams and projects have gone for us, we probably cannot do better than to direct our reflections to the call that brought us here in the first place. This is God's call, of course, a law that we con-tended with before we knew any religious rule. It is a call that has cre-ated us, has made promises to us, and has taken charge of writing our individual stories. This call, this law, is the grace of the Holy Spirit in our individual lives. The Call that Creates Out of his study of the Scriptures, Father Francois-Xavier Durrwell, C.SS.R., says this about our God: "The-one-who-calls-you" is his name. Maybe I Peter 1:15-16 best expresses the import of this naming of God: "Become holy yourselves in every aspect of your conduct, af-ter the likeness of the holy One who called you; remember, Scripture says, 'Be holy, for I am holy.' "~ Though he is no careless scholar, Fa-ther Durrwell's citations of Scripture rather more evoke meditation than establish a tightly reasoned case. He recalls our hearts to truths we have long cherished: that God always loves first, that he seeks our response to his love, that he made and makes promises to a people and to every single human being, .that he keeps his promises. We should remember about Jesus that God called him his Son, his beloved, when Jesus was baptized by John. In Mark's Gospel, this call-- this sense of his identity--is described as Jesus' own secret. Only he sees the sky open and the Spirit descend (1 : I 0). He knows who he was, where he has come from, and where he will return. In this connection Paul preaches that Jesus has been raised from the dead: "We ourselves an-nounce to you the good news that what God promised our fathers he has fulfilled for us, their children, in raising up Jesus, according to what is written in the second psalm, 'You are my son; this day I have begotten you' " (Ac 13:33). The Father has proved faithful to his call of Jesus. The early Christians had a clear notion of their identity; they saw their life as a calling. Their life challenged them, but a call supported them. Paul told them, "He who calls us is trustworthy, therefore he will do it" (1 Th 5:24). He reproached them in terms of the call. "I am amazed that you are so soon deserting him who called you in accord with his gracious design in Christ, and are going over to another gospel . Such enticement does not come from him who calls you" (Ga 1:6; 5:8). He told them they partook of the call of Jesus Christ: "God is faithful, and it was he who called you to fellowship with his Son, Jesus Christ The Call / 49"/ our Lord" (i Co 1:9). Mary Magdalene first grasped the sense of this promise when the Risen Christ called her name: "Jesus said to her, 'Mary!' " (Jn 20:16). Who he was and who she was in relation to him had changed to something she could never have dreamed of. Paul, too, heard his name called. "Saul, Saul, why do you perse-cute me?" (Ac 9:4). His whole sense of himself and his work is rooted in his call. He opens the Letter to the Romans this way: "Greetings from Paul, a servant of Christ Jesus, called to be an apostle and set apart to proclaim the gospel of God . " He identifies himself in the same way at the opening of 1 Corinthians: "Paul, called by God's will to be an apostle of Christ Jesus . " For the call it was that made him an apos-tle. What brought each of us to religious life, what event, what dream, what fascination? Each one of us has a story of a call, though it is prob-ably not so exotic as that of St. Margaret Mary Alacoque. She wrote that at the age of four or five "I found myself saying something I couldn't unde, rstand: 'To God I give my purity, and vow perpetual chastity.' " In later years our Lord told her: "I chose you for my bride . We plighted our troth when you made your vow of chastity. That was my doing . ,,2 Our call, too, has always been his doing. For those, then, who try to follow Jesus, God is "the-one-who-calls" (I Th 5:24; Ga 1:6; 5:8), .just as he is "the-one-who-raised- Jesus" (Rm 4:21; see I P 1:21; 2 Co 1:9; Ga I'1) and "the-one-who-brought- Israel-out-of Egypt" (Ex 20:2; Jg 6:8). "The-one-who cails-you"~ is his name (I Th 5:24; I P 1"15; 2 P 1:3).3 The Call that Makes a Promise Every call includes a promise; there is something in it for the one called. When God called Abraham to go up from Haran to the land of Canaan, he made him a promise in terms that anyone would immediately and thrillingly understand. He would make of Abraham a great nation, a man in whose very name all the communities of the earth would find a blessing (Gn 12:1-3). Of course, Abraham could never have dreamt how it would all turn out--and the story is not yet finished. How could he have known that in our day the religious communities of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam revere him as a father? But he heard God's prom-ise in terms of lands and children. That he could clearly grasp. God prom-ised him, in his childlessness, that his life would matter, that someone would remember him (Gn 15). Is there anything else that any human be-ing ever wanted out of life? True, Abraham thought only in terms of a personal life with God that ended with the grave. Only much later did 4911/Review for Religious, July-August 1988 the Jews arrive at a belief in a personal life after death. Yet Jesus too, who preached and promised a life without end, also spoke of the call in terms of the great values of this life: brothers and sisters, land and home, spouse and children (Mk 10:28-31). Those of us who take on the classic renunciations of religious life are not throwing life away like yesterday's newspaper. For each of us this life--the only one we know--this life will matter. And we will be remembered for hav-ing lived it. How, we do not know. But neither did Abraham. We cling to the call, knowing God has made us a promise. To repeat, God's promise concerns earthly life and the worth of the labors and sacrifices his servants make for love of him. It is not as though we receive eternal life in exchange for anguishing our way through a bar-ren existence, a human life that really has no meaning in it, that at best is only a contrived testing ground. A jeweler often sells watches by ad-vertising for junk: hand in a useless old watch and get a discount on a new one. But God does not see a human life as a trade-in. For all that anyone knew on Good Friday, Jesus had failed in everything he had given his life to. His disciples had fled; he had died a criminal. But by raising him from the dead, the Holy Spirit also has played the revealing light of tongues of fire on his earthly life for us who contemplate it in the Gospels. We remember that life of his. How we remember it! It mat-tered. The Call that Writes a Story With the call and the promise to Abraham in the Book of Genesis, the Bible begins to talk about history in the usual sense--people and events to which we can assign a particular time and a particular place on this earth. The whole long tale of the Scriptures hangs from God's call to Abraham and from Abraham's putting his faith in him. We are merely the actors now pronouncing the lines and pacing the stage of the ongoing drama of God's faithfulness to his promise. The other side of this story of God's faithfulness is that of our unfaithfulness, our sin. Jeremiah the prophet one day glimpsed God's resourcefulness in the face of our unfaithfulness as he watched a potter at work. God had told him to visit the potter's house, where Jeremiah saw the craftsman's in-tentions sometimes turn out badly. Some pots just did not go well at all. "Whenever the object of clay which he was making turned out badly in his hand, he tried again, making of the clay another object of what-ever sort he pleased" (Jr 18:4). In leading his prophet to the potter's house, God was reading him a lesson on the divine patience in waiting for the conversion of his peo- The Call / 499 pie. But he also was telling Jeremiah that conversion rested on God's res-toration and re-creation of a life and a situation that his people had often totally wrecked by their unfaithfulness. We should ponder the potter's care and intention as he sees the clay elude his skill and the design he had in mind for it. Somehow it is misbegotten. But the potter has an-other idea, another chance for the clay. He will try something else--a different shape, a different vessel. As we look at the story of our life, it may seem that we have not turned out as we should, and we might be right about that. We have all been unfaithful. But the call and the promise mean that God always has something else in mind, something new to create as he continues to shape our life. Although we may have wasted years and energy and talent, al-though we may have weakly or willfully thrown off our religious voca-tion altogether, we still remain within the work and the motion of his crea-tive hands. He still has something else in mind, even if it is only our con-trite acceptance of a littered past, which we yield totally to him as part of a broken self. Psalm 51 provides the words to celebrate God's having his way with us at last: "My sacrifice, O God, is a contrite spirit; a heart contrite and humbled, O God, you will not spurn" (v. 19). The Law of Our Life: The Grace of the Holy Spirit We have seen that the most basic law of Christian life is the call of God, which is played out in the stories of our lives. For stories are pow-erful laws, often in their way more piercing than laws in the strict sense. Which, for instance, do we find more unsettling when we come upon a stalled car along the highway, or a fallen derelict on a city street--the command to love our neighbor as ourselves or the story of the Good Sa-maritan? Which makes it harder just to pass by? Maybe we have had the privilege to hear religious or priests talk about their wrestling with their vocations. Even if they have to speak of infidelity, they talk in terms of their stories rather than of laws and rules in the ordinary sense. They often weep as they tell their story; for it con-tains the law and the call they cannot escape, and really do not want to escape. We find a crucial chapter of Paul's story in Acts 9. If the call is the grace of the Holy Spirit, then this scene portrays this grace most vividly. For Paul on the road to Damascus did not meet the earthly Jesus, the friend of Peter and the other disciples. Paul never met him, never knew him. He hardly ever speaks of him at all, though he had to know very much about the life of Jesus of Nazareth. But Paul met Jesus Risen, this same man resurrected; he fell in love with the Jesus raised by the power 500 / Review for Religious, July-1988 of the Spirit; he knew Jesus in the Spirit.4 His call then was the grace of the Holy Spirit. This grace of the Holy Spirit made him. It was the law and impulse of his whole life thereafter. We too meet Jesus as Paul did--in the grace of the Holy Spirit, in the story of our life. A Call to Communion Rather Than to Observance In emphasizing the primacy of the call, Father Durrwell notes that Paul did not recognize the absolute character of any law imposed from outside the person. He preached that Christian life was a call to a free-dom surging up from within us. This limitless new law of life made space for our souls: "The law of the spirit, the spirit of life in Christ Jesus, has freed you from the law of sin and death" (Rm 8:2). Since this Spirit is the love of God poured into out hearts (Rm 5:5), in surrendering to it Christians yield to what they love. No one could be more free.5 We must learn, then, to love the law, to find that it has become part of us or that we have been taken up into its secret life. Rabbi Abraham Heschel discourses on this mystery when he speaks of the Jewish tradi-tion of kavvanah. The music in a score is open only to him who has music in his soul. It is not enough to play the notes; one must be what he plays. It is not enough to do the mitzvah; one must live what he does. The goal is to find access to the sacred deed. But the holiness in the mitzvah is only open to him who knows how to discover the holiness in his own soul. To do a mitzvah is one thing; to partake of its inspiration is another.6 But who writes the music in the heart so that we may live out the very soul of written notes and law? St. Augustine would answer--the fin-ger of God. By the finger of God we learn to find delight in the law. He says that we learn "to keep Sabbath in the spirit" through the Holy Spirit poured forth in our hearts (Rm 5:5).7 Father Durrwell acknowledges that the New Testament does not ex-plicitly identify the Holy.Spirit with the call. But the Scripture does speak of the Holy Spirit as an anointing (2 Co 1:21), as a seal upon one's in-ner life (2 Co 1:22), and as a promise of final redemption (Ep !:14).8 In Paul, and also in John, we see an emphasis on an available expe-rience of this life in the Holy Spirit, one that tells us that within this very ordinary life something else goes on. So Paul preaches: "God is the one who firmly establishes us along with you in Christ; it is he who anointed us and has sealed us, thereby depositing the first payment, the Spirit, in our hearts" (I Co 1:21-22). John also preaches: "As for you, the anoint- The Call / 501 ing you received from him remains in your hearts. This means you have no need for anyone to teach you. Rather, as his anointing teaches you about all things and is true--free from any lie--remain in him as that anointing taught you" (1 Jn 2:27). In reading these Scriptures we have to conclude that this anointing-- this interior impulse and promise--amounted to a real presence for these ancient fellow believers of ours. Paul and John were appealing to their people to look to their hearts, to their experience. What has happened, then, to us? Where has the awareness gone? Nothing has happened! The awareness has not disappeared. We have known the same things, felt at least sometimes the surprise of God's peace and joy in a desperate situ-ation. We have lived by the light of a secret promise that told us we could and would be better, that we could make our world better. St. Augustine reflected on this with his people as he preached on the First Letter of John. Note how he gives up trying to talk and appeals to what the people knew--the anointing. ¯ . . What is the promise given us? "We shall be like him; for we shall see him as he is" [3:2]. The spoken word has done all it could; the rest must be pondered in the heart. In comparison of him who "is," what could John say, and what can be said by us whose desert is so far below his? We must go back to the anointing of which he has spoken, that anointing which teaches inwardly what passes utterance; and since as yet you cannot see, your work must lie in longing. The whole life of the good Christian is a holy longing.9 As Father Kilian McDonnell, O.S.B., points out to us, the experi-ence John considers is the gentle, ordinary conviction of God's loving presence that we all have known, as the early Christians knew it. No need to be put off by our usual guardedness against sensational experi-ence and display. ~0 The Scriptures are urging us to trust to a patient and faithful longing for the completion of what we know has begun in us and in our world. A Woman of the Spirit Jean-Marie Cardinal Lustiger is Archbishop of Paris. He oversees a church suffering far more desperately than most others. What does he preach to his people? In homilies worthy of a Father of the Church, he stirs them with questions like this one: "Are Christians the masters of Christianity, deciding what it should be, or is it Christ who, through his Spirit, takes hold of you and leads you where you do not want to go'?" ~ And he places before the eyes of his people the image of Mary stand- 509 / Review for Religious, July-August 1988 ing at the foot of the cross. They must pray, he tells them, "for the Marian grace of silent patience and long waitings in faith.''~2 So must we pray. As St. Augustine put it, the life of the Christian is one long and holy yearning. We know that. We have always known it, even though we may sometimes have too little appreciated the peace that has come along with living out our longing. This peace and this power is the anointing that Christians have always known. NOTES ~ Francois-Xavier Durrwell, C.SS.R., "Vous avez gtd appelds . " Studia Moralia 15 (1977): 345. z The Autobiography of Saint Margaret Mary, trans. Vincent Kerns (Westminster, Maryland: Newman Press, 1961), 4, 18. 3 Durrwell, 345. 4 Yves Congar, I Believe in the Holy Spirit, 3 vols. (New York: The Seabury Press, 1983), I: 30. 5 Abraham Heschel, Between God and Man: Art Interpretation of Judaism (New York: The Free Press, 1959), 165-166. 6 Augustine: Later Works, ed. John Burnaby (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1955), The Spirit and the Letter, -#27, 216. 7 Durrwell, 352, 357. 8 Durrwell, 356. 9 Augustine: Later Works, Fourth Homily, -#6, 290. ~0 Kilian McDonnell, O.S.B., "A Trinitarian Theology of the Holy Spirit," Theo-logical Studies 46 (1985): 223. ~ Jean-Marie Cardinal Lustiger, Dare to Believe: Addresses, Sermons, Interviews, 1981-1984 (New York: Crossroad, 1986), 16. ~2 Lustiger, 226, 228. Superiority of the Religious Life Brendan Knea/e, F.S.C. Brother Brendan is an associate professor in a great books program and can be con-tacted at Box H; Saint Mary's College; Moraga, California 94575. One of the reasons why religious life is not attracting vocations is, no doubt, a failure to emphasize its superiority. In fact, vocational leaders and their literature tend to deny that there is any such superiority. Such a failure, it seems, must be counterproductive. Traditionally, of course, the opposite view prevailed. Recall the famous lines attributed to St. Ber-nard indicating a clear superiority: The religious 1. lives more purely, 2. falls more rarely, 3. rises more promptly, 4. walks more cautiously, 5. is graced more frequently, 6. rests more securely, 7. dies more confidently, 8. is cleansed more promptly, and 9. is rewarded more abundantly. "More" than who? Clearly St. Bernard means, "more than those in secular states of life." Does the teaching of Vatican II confirm this view? Even a cursory reading of the documents shows that it does. Not only do the official statements twice refer to the religious life as "a state of perfection," but in several places the language uses, like St. Bernard's "more," various comparative terms. 503 ~i04 / Review for Religious, July-August 1988 Vatican II Thus, in Lumen Gentium 42 we read concerning the evangelical coun-sels of religious, "Outstanding among them is that precious gift of grace which the Father gives to some men (see Mt 19:11; I Co 7:7) st-" that by virginity, or celibacy, they can more easily devote their entire selves to God alone with undivided heart (see I Co 7:32-34)." And, "Since the disciples must always imitate and give witness to this char-ity and humility of Christ, Mother Church rejoices at finding within bosom men and women who more closely follow and more clearly dem-onstrate the Savior's self-giving by embracing poverty with the free choice of God's sons, and by renouncing their own wills.''~ In the chapter of Lumen Gentium devoted specifically to the vowed life we find a summary stotement, again in the comparative language "greater": "These religious families give their members the support greater stability in their way of life, a proven method of acquiring per-fection, fraternal association in the militia of Christ, and liberty strength-ened by obedience."2 A direct comparison with other Christians is made in the next section, where the text notes about the vowed religious, "is true that through baptism he has died to sin and has been consecrated to God. However, in order to derive more abundant fruit from this bap-tismal grace, he intends, by profession of the evangelical counsels in the Church, to .free himself from those obstacles which might draw him away from the fervent charity and the perfection of divine worship. Thus is more intimately consecrated to the divine service. This consecration gains in perfection since by virtue of firmer and steadier bonds it serves as a better symbol of the unbreakable link between Christ and His Spouse, the Church." The same section goes on to say, "Furthermore, the religious state constitutes a closer imitation and an abiding reenact-ment in the Church of the form of life which the Son of God made his own . Even the language of superlatives is used here: "Finally, everyone should realize that the profession of the evangelical counsels, though en-tailing the renunciation of certain values which undoubtedly merit high esteem, does not detract from a genuine development of the human per-son. Rather by its very nature it is most beneficial to that develop-ment . The counsels are especially able to pattern the Christian man after that manner of virginal and humble life which Christ the Lord elected for himself, and which his Virgin Mother also chose."3 It is well known that Vatican II was a pastoral council concerned, therefore, with changes in discipline, not doctrine (though for pastoral Superiority of the Religious Life reasons it changed the wording and emphasis of some dogmas). Hence, Vatican II does not contradict the Council of Trent. In particular, it did not withdraw its teaching about the superiority of the religious state. The earlier council anathematizes those who would place all Christian "states" on the same level. Specifically, it condemns those who say "that it is not better and more blessed to remain in virginity and celi-bacy than in the matrimonial bond" (Denz. no. 1810). Hans Urs von Balthasar notes one reason for this doctrine: "Marriage does not cross the threshold of the eschatological realm (Mt 22:30), and a person who wishes to live eschatologically should therefore renounce marriage if he can (Mt 11:12; 1 Co 7:8).''4 In a scholarly work, as part of his chapter on "Christian Voca-tions," Father John Lozano, C.M.F., has remarked, "The Council's in-sistent use of comparatives is such that theologians must, of necessity, fix their attention upon it." His own analysis (carefully nuanced and, I believe, erroneous) leads him to abandon comparatives and to vote against the traditional view, which he describes as follows: ". Chris-tian people have always considered monasticism as being, objectively, the more blessed (beatius) situation.''5 If we look at the special Decree on The Appropriate Renewal of the Religious Life (Perfectae Caritatis) issued by Vatican II, we find that the religious state "is of surpassing value" (section I), though we are not told overtly what other values it "surpasses." Section 5 observes about religious, "They have handed over their :entire lives to God's serv-ice in an act of special consecration which is deeply rooted in their bap-tismal consecration and which provides an ampler manifestation of it.' ,6 It is true that an "ampler manifestation" of one's baptismal graces is expected after confirmation, and penance, and marriage, and after all moral choices--but the context of the passage, and the background of the whole tradition, require us to read "ampler manifestation" (and other comparatives) in accord with Trent's clear anathema (even if to-day there seem to be several writers who fall, inadvertently, under that anathema). Inferiority We should pause here to note that the religious life is also inferior. The religious state cuts a very poor figure in the context of a capitalist and consumer competition, and in the realm of biological reproduction, and in the area of political power struggles and status seeking. Indeed the three vows are instruments designed precisely to keep a person as in-ferior in these secular arenas as he or she is superior in the religious 506 / Review for Religious, July-August 1988 arena. In the worlds of finance, medicine, the military, and so forth, there is no reason to ascribe superiority to the religious state. In the world of holiness and the sacred, there is. After Vatican II Official documents subsequent to the council enable us to read with proper understanding its intent. In 1971, for example, an Apostolic Ex-hortation on the Renewal of Religious Life came from Rome with some pointed recommendations. It continued to push the language of perfec-tion and comparatives: "more closely conformed" to the life of Christ (sec. 2); "follow Christ more freely and to imitate him more faithfully ¯ . . with greater fullness" (sec. 4); "to derive more abundant fruit" and be "more intimately consecrated" (sec. 7); "your obedience is more strict" (sec. 27). It quotes Lumen Gentium: "The Council consid-ers 'a proven doctrine of acquiring perfection' as one of the inherited riches of religious institutes" (sec. 37). Finally,, it assure us that "by the threefold renunciation of your religious profession [you] realize the greatest possible expansio.n of your life in Christ" (sec. 55).7 The present pope--certainly an expert on Vatican II--freely speaks of the superiority of the religious state. In his exhortation Familiaris Con-sortio (I 98 i), he makes it a point to say so even when his theme is fam-ily life. In section 16 he quotes with approval St. John Chrysostom's words on the superiority of consecrated virginity to sacramental mar-riage: "What appears good only in comparison with evil would not be particularly good. It is something better than what is admitted to be good that is the most excellent good." John Paul goes on to say, ~'It is for this reason that the Church throughout her history has always defended the superiority of this charism to that of marriage . ,,8 The follow-ing year Pope John Paul spoke to a representative group of sisters and said, in part, Most of all, the recommendation I would want to give you is this: pre-serve and foster a correct and lofty concept of religious life and conse-cration, according to what the Master always taught and still teaches. The Church today certainly encourages secular and "lay" forms of re-ligious life which if properly understood are of great blessing for the Peo-ple of God and for the world. The Council made clear the dignity of the earthly values and the spirituality of the laity. Nevertheless, the same Council, stressing the unique value of the religious vocation, takes care not to depreciate it with distortion of a misunderstood secularity, for-getting that the religious life achieves a perfection beyond baptismal con-secration . Superiority of the Religious Life / .507 The superiority of the religious state certainly does not depend on the Christian's final end, which is the same for everyone: blessedness in God . [There are gifts] which as such are superior to those de-riving from baptismal consecration sufficient to characterize the secular or married state . 9 Perhaps the Holy Father was recalling here the words of Adrienne yon Speyr, a wife and mother who became a well-known spiritual writer under the aegis of Hans Urs von Balthasar: If rightly chosen, the married state can be lived to perfection in a fam-ily life that is in complete accord with Christian faith and with a posi-tion in the Church, community and state . Nevertheless, there are certain limits [in married life] that cannot be moved and that simply re-lateto the finiteness of the human person . The evangelical state, whether active or contemplative, gives evi-dence from the beginning of a stronger preoccupation with God . In marriage, the individual must forgo these helps proper to the evan-gelical state. If it were possible to compare at the end of their lives two individuals who, at the moment of choice, possessed exactly the same qualifications, the same education and knowledge, the same piety and readiness to follow Christ, and of whom one chose the married state and the other the evangelical state, the advantage enjoyed by the latter would be plainly visible . Although there is a level on which the ecclesial states [including sacramental marriage] stand side by side as possible modes of Christian existence that are both good and willed by God, there is also a hierarchy among the states that clearly reveals the greater ex-cellence of the evangelical state. ~0 Later, in 1984, Pope John Paul issued a special Apostolic Exhorta-tion on the Religious Life addressed to religious themselves, Redemp-tionis Donum. He starts off in section I saying about the universal voca-tion to perfection, "While this call concerns everyone, in a special way it concerns you, men and women religious, who in your consecration to God through the vows of the evangelical counsels strive toward a par-ticular fullness of Christian life." In section 4: "This way is also called the way of perfection," a claim repeated in section 6. At the same time he twice uses the expression "state of perfection" but leaves it in quo-tation marks, and one can tell that he does so out of deference to the con-temporary sensitivities, not out of rejection of the doctrine. Also in 1984 the new Code of Canon Lawwent into effect. Careful wording characterizes it. The part devoted to religious life begins, "Life consecrated by the profession of the evangelical counsels is a stable form of living by which the faithful, following Christ more closely under the 508 /Review for Religious, July-August 1988 action of the Holy Spirit, are totally dedicated to God . " Contemporary Misapprehension How is it that this superiority is denied by many well-informed Catho-lics? We find in the influential and reprinted book Shaping the Coming Age of Religious Life (1985) by Cada, et al., the following passage: "At the start of the Modern Era the Council Fathers of Trent promulgated the teaching that the state of consecrated virginity was inherently better and holier than the married state. At the end of the Modern Era the Council Fathers at Vatican II taught that the religious life was no more a state of perfection than the Christian life in general" (p. 49). It is difficult see how the authors can take such a position, especially since the coun-cil documents explicitly refer to the religious life as "a state of perfec-tion," and Pope John Paul, as cited above, says just the opposite. Read-ers of this journal will be familiar with other texts, often written by vo-cation ministers, making clear disavowals of superiority. The negative psychological impact of these misreadings of Vatican II on the work of vocation ministry should be obvious. These authors no doubt worried about the invidiousness of claiming personal "superiority." They should have recalled what Thomas Aqui-nas had already pointed out in the Summa (I1-II, 186, I ): that we are speak-ing figuratively. We call all members of an order "religious" even when some are not, and we call their state one of "perfection" although none of its members may be perfect. The figure of speech we are using, he tells us, is called ~'antonomasia." We can illustrate it by the example of our calling a king, antonomastically, "His Majesty" even when is not majestic. It appears that there are two reasons (~)ne of which has just been al-luded to) why such misrepresentations of Catholic doctrine have oc-curred. (!) There has been a strong egalitarian, anti-elitist mood in most the Western world for many years. This same appetite for leveling found when one speaks of churches, even non-Christian ones. Thus, with regard to the Catholic Church, contemporary society wants her to avoid "triumphalism" and therefore to avoid claiming superiority over other religions, since "all religions are equal," Try arguing, even amon.group of Catholics, that their religion is "superior," and see, in our egali-tarian age, the resistance you meet. Similarly, members of religious con-gregations today tend to suppress the superiority of their state, even when giving vocational advice--thereby, of course, reducing the attractiveness of that state. SuperioriO, of the Religious Life / 509 (2) There is a chapter entitled "The Call to Holiness" in Lumen Gen-tium which seems, on superficial reading, to support the modern appe-tite for equality. But the chapter simply recalls that Christ summoned all people, secular and religious, to "be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect"--hardly a new doctrine in pastoral theology. In every state of life Christians have the sacraments, prayer, apostolic opportunities, and self-denial (see section 42) to help in the universal vocation we all have to perfection. It is natural to conclude (although long habit made even the fathers of the council keep the usage) that "the state of perfection" is not a title that ought to be arrogated to the religious life alone: it has been too easy for people to relegate other states to "imperfection." We certainly want to~ avoid that imputation~, and so a pastoral concern leads us to stop emphasizing~that the religious state is the state of perfection, even though it is clearly a superior state for the purposes of religious per-fection. Likewise, since we live in an ecumenical age, we do not go about saying the Catholic Church is superior to others, even though, as an instrument of salvation, it is. If, out of pastoral concern for giving emphasis to the religious value of secular and lay states~ we avoid stressing the superiority of religious and clerical states, we should not at the same time forget (or fail, at ap-propriate times, publicly to recall) that superiority. Thus Pope John Paul, as noted above, did not hesitate--even in a document about the dignity and worth of family life (Familiaris Consortio)--to remind us of the su-periority of the religious state. To disavow it is nbt humility; it is fal-sity. The accusation of elitism can be met in the same way that colleges and universities meet it. The best schools claim to be superior as instru-ments of higher education, and they are--in virtue of their curricula, their faculties, their social opportunities. Indeed the best institutions as-sure excellence by hiring the best faculty, and admitting and supporting the best students, regardless of their social status. Moreover, they do not claim that all the students and courses at other places are inferior. Ex-cellence does not demand putting others down or denying the principle of human equality. But it certainly does not require the best colleges and universities falsely to deny their own superiority, especially when seek-ing new faculty and students. Neither should the religious state in seek-ing new members. This analogy is quite forceful: the religious state is like a superior university--people seeking a "higher education" try to find suitable "instruments" for that purpose. Some of these "instru-ments" are superior to others, namely, the best universities and colleges. 510 / Review for Religious, July-August 1988 It is in this sense that St. Thomas (Summa, II-lI, 184, 3 and 7) speaks of the religious state as instrumental to perfection; it is "the state of perfection" in that way, not in some invidious way. Among secular persons there are often some closer to perfection than many religious are. Chesterton has said somewhere, "Alone of all superiors the saint does not depress the human dignity of others. He is not conscious of his su-periority to them, but only more conscious of his inferiority than they are." When we call attention to the superiority of an instrument, we do not thereby claim superiority for the user of that instrument. When St. Paul in I Co 12:28ff. set up a ranking of charisms, he did not intend to offend anyone. Thus, in saying that bishops have the high-est vocation, that their state is the superior one, he was hoping to attract, not repel, vocations. St. Paul, a good vocation minister, ended by urg-ing us to "be zealous for the better gifts." God indeed hath set some in the church: first apostles, secondly proph-ets, thirdly teachers; after that miracles, then the graces of healings, helps, governments, kinds of tongues, interpretations of speeches. ~l'here are similar rankings at Romans 12:4 and Ephesians 4: 10. Conclusion As an aid to vocation ministers we should update and add to St. Ber-nard's list of comparatives. By way of a partial extension, we might say of the contemporary religious that he or she: 10. witnesses more eschatologically, (Religious vows are greater eschatological signs than are offered by secu-lar lifestyles.) I 1. serves more apostolically, (Corporate efforts at ministry multiply through space and time the work of a single individual.) 12. lives more theocentrically and Christologically, (Opportunities in re-ligious community for retreats, liturgy, meditation, silence, self-denial are abundant.) 13. operates more freely, (Support in religious life reduces financial, domestic, and decision-making chores.) 14. reaches out more ecclesially. (An international religious order extends one's circle of friends and pro-vides a worldwide family for its members.) Superiority of the Religious Life NOTES ~ Abbott, W. M., S.J., ed., The Documents of Vatican H, America Press, New York, 1966, p. 71. 2 Ibid., pp. 73-74. 3 Ibid., p. 77. 4 Von Balthasar, H. U., New Elucidations, Ignatius Press, San Francisco, 1986, p. 180. 5 Lozano, John M., C.M.F., Discipleship: Towards an Understanding of the Relig-ious Life, Claret Center for Resources in Spirituality, Chicago, 1980, pp. 55ff. 6 Abbott, p. 471. 7 Flannery, A., O.P., ed., Vatican Council II, Liturgical Press, Collegeville, 1975, pp. 680ff. 8 Origins 11, no. 25 (December 3, 1981): 443. 9 Consecrated Life 9, no. 2, pp. 214-215. ~0 Von Speyr, A., The Christian State of Life, Ignatius Press, San Francisco, 1986, pp. 81-84. Mary and the Announcer So many questions you leave unanswered That 1 would ask: why it is 1 Who am chosen, when will this happen, how Shall I know it happening, what am I To tell the kind man to whom I am bonded. Tell him nothing? And already you gather Yourself for departure; the dark tower Of your presence stands a shadow On the floor, unfolding long Skirted pinions, lifting them higher. If I lifted my eyes, I would see light, Where you have stood. Where I am standing Now in light brighter than windows, the dance Of it is like rings at my fingers, Like bracelets adorning my ankles, a lightness Crowning my hair. Harmless as I am, No harm can come to me of standing In light where I cast no shadow Yet am overshadowed, where again ! hear The calm announcement: Mary, do not fear. Nancy G. Westerfield 2914 Avenue B Kearney, NE 68847 Celibate Loving Rosemarie Carfagna, O.S.U., Ph.D. Sister Rosemarie's "Spirituality of Suffering" appeared in our March/April 1988 issue. She is in the Philosophy and Religious Studies Department at Ursuline Col-lege; 2550 Lander Road; Pepper Pike, Ohio 44124. Can two women from the late Middle Ages have anything to say to con-temporary religious women about their efforts at celibate loving? Al-though the times and the circumstances have changed, the central issues involved in celibate loving have not. This article will look at the writ-ings of two spiritual mothers for practical guidance about the conduct of religious in love relationships. Teresa of Avila was a sixteenth-century Spanish Carmelite. Margaret Mary Alacoque was a seventeenth-century Sister of the Visitation in France. Both women wrote poignantly about the experience of learning how to love. Both women learned from hu-man love lessons that led them to divine love. Their wisdom and their advice can be helpful for religious women and men today. The Desire for Affection In her classic work The Way of Perfection, Teresa speaks to her sis-ters about their efforts to love. She is aware from her own experience of the danger and temptation of looking to human beings for the ultimate satisfaction that can come only from God. Teresa herself needed to learn about detachment and transcendence, so it was with humility and sim-plicity that she could refer to the desire for affection as blindness. She tells her sisters, "I sometimes think this desire for affection is sheer blind-ness . When we desire anyone's affection, we always seek it because of some interest, profit or pleasure of our own." ~ It is the self-interest underlying the desire for affection that alerts Teresa to the imperfection of the love. As she matured in love, Teresa began to see through its more 512 Celibate Loving / 513 superficial forms. Speaking about the subversive effect of self-interest on love, she writes, "Of course, however pure our affection may be, it is quite natural for us to wish it to be returned. But, when we come to evaluate the return of affection, we realize that it is insubstantial, like a thing of straw, as light as air and easily carried away by the wind."2 Teresa wants more than this for herself and for her sisters. She realizes that the call to celibate love offers greater, more permanent rewards. How-ever, these gifts are deeply hidden. Mature religious are sensitive enough to know where to look for them. Describing the deeper vision of holy souls, she writes: ¯ . . the things which they see are everlasting. If they love anyone they immediately look right beyond the body, fix their eyes on the soul and see what there is to be loved in that. If there is nothing, but they see any suggestion or inclination which shows them that, if they dig deep, they will find gold within this mine, they think nothing of the labor of dig-ging, since they have love.3 The kind of love Teresa is describing is a purified and noble love. It is a kind of love she came to know because she was led to it by the Spirit. It is purified through a gentle and continuous process of detach-ment. Detachment Margaret Mary Alacoque learned about celibate loving directly from Jesus, whom she acknowledged as her Spouse. Her Thoughts and Say-ings record the instructions she received that guided her spiritual and emo-tional development and brought her to the fullness of love. The follow-ing message was addressed to her in prayer: "Know that if you wish to possess Jesus Christ and to dwell in his Sacred Heart, you must have no other desire and be content with him alone.' ,4 These are puzzling words for beginners in the spiritual life. Speaking of contentment in the same context as such radical detachment appears paradoxical at first. Perhaps Margaret Mary experienced a degree of consternation, too, when she heard these words. Her instructions continued in the same vein. How-ever, she was assured that Jesus her Spouse would teach her and help her become accustomed to purified love. She recorded the following mes-sage that she received by way of encouragement: May he teach you what he desires of you, and may he give you the strength to accomplish it perfectly. If I am not mistaken, this in a few words is what ! think he chiefly requires of you: He wishes that you should learn to live without support, without a friend and without saris- Review for Religious, July-August 1988 faction. In proportion as you ponder over these words, he will help you to understand them.5 The message may seem harsh if we focus only on the radical detach-ment it implies. Who among us finds the prospect of living without sup-port and without a friend attractive? But a second look at the meaning behind the words can sustain us. Rather than taking away the help that we need, Jesus is offering himself to us as helper, lover, and friend. Mar-garet Mary was told: Our Lord would fain be your sole Support, Friend and Delight, provided you seek neither support nor delight in creatures. Nevertheless, you must not be ill at ease or constrained in your intercourse with your neighbor, but always humble, bright, kind and gracious in your manner. The Sa-cred Heart of Jesus gives you these holy aspirations through the ardent love he bears you, which makes him desire to possess your heart whole and entire.6 Having this kind of intimacy with Jesus makes detachment easy. All other love relationships fall into place when our hearts are focused on him. Those experienced in celibate love know, however, that coming to such intimacy with Jesus is a gradual process. They are familiar with tri-als and temptations. They know that growth in celibate love is a constant effort at putting God first. Putting God First Both Teresa and Margaret Mary would offer advice to religious to-day, as they did to their own sisters. The unifying theme found in the writings of both of them is the importance of putting God first in the or-der of our love and of having a faithful spousal commitment to Jesus. They might say that as it is in any state of life, the religious life will have its share of trials and temptations. This is to purify and test the soul for worthiness to heaven. Only in heaven will the soul be free of suffering and only in heaven will the soul be filled with delights and satisfaction. Because these spiritual mothers were human as well as holy, they would admit that it can happen in religious life that there are attractions and even sexual arousal to one of the opposite sex or even of one's own sex. This is not wrong in and of itself. What does offend the good God is when the religious, especially the religious woman whom Jesus con-siders to be his own bride, succumbs to these attractions and sensations and knowingly and willingly seeks the intimacy with another that one would seek with a betrothed or wedded lover. It is not wrong to love or even to be in love with another when one is a religious. What is wrohg is seeking one's own selfish ends rather Celibate Loving than putting God first in one's heart and behaving seductively and ador-ingly to one's earthly beloved. No soul on earth can ever expect to find peace or happiness unless God is first in one's heart and one wills to be-have faithfully to God according to one's state in life and according to vows taken. Purified Love Loving another person in the temporal realm means loving him or her spiritually and from afar sometimes. Sexually arousing contact, be it eye contact, physical proximity, flirtation, or any seductive behavior that intends to arouse sexual passion in the other, is highly offensive to God. It would be better for the religious to leave the community than to behave so, for this can only lead to unhappiness. If one finds oneself in a love relationship and if the relationship has God's blessing, it will be peaceful and characterized by friendship, equal-ity in status, pure affection, chaste intention, and discretion in intimate behavior. Behavior toward any others will be spiritually beneficial and charitable as a result of this love. If, on the other hand, the love rela-tionship originates from one's own inordinate desires, it will be charac-terized by behaviors which seek sexual arousal and aim at sexual con-summation. There will also be exclusiveness, possessiveness, and ob-sessiveness, leaving the heart in a profoundly miserable state.7 Only, as Augustine has said, when one's heart first rests in God will it be happy and be pleasing to God. It is only in willing to please God first that the soul can find the love and satisfaction it seeks. This is especially so for a religious whom God holds responsible for shepherding his flock. The primary concern of the religious is to glorify God and to save souls. All other relationships are to flow from this holy and serious duty. May the example and the wisdom of women like Teresa and Margaret Mary help us to grow today in our efforts at celibate love. NOTES ~Teresa of Avila, The Way of Perfection (New York: Image Books, 1964), p. 70. ~-Ibid. 3 Ibid., p. 71. 4 Margaret Mary Alacoque, Thoughts and Sayings of St. Margaret Mary (Rockford, Illinois: TAN Books and Publishers, Inc.), p. 73. 5 Ibid. 6 Ibid., pp. 74-75. 7 See Teresa's descriptions of spiritual versus sensual relationships in The Way of Perfection, pp. 54-59, 67-81 (i.e., chap. 4 lall but the beginningl and chaps. 6 and 7). Hope for Community: A Kingdom Perspective Kristin Wombacher, O.P., and Shaun McCarty, S.T. Sister Kristin, a licensed clinical psychologist, was a writer for the Pontifical Com-mission on Religious Life in th~ United States and is presently Prioress General of the Dominican Sisters of San Rafael. She resides at Siena Convent; 4038 Maher Street; Napa, California 94558. Father McCarty, of the Missionary Servants of the Most Holy Trinity, teaches in the Washington Theological Union and is a staff mem-ber of the Shalem Institute for Spiritual Formation. He resides at Holy Trinity Mis-sion Seminary; 9001 New Hampshire Avenue; Silver Spring, Maryland 20903. Since Vatican II both have been extensively involved with programs of renewal for relig-ious communities of women and men, lay and religious, especially in the United States. In response to Vatican II, religious congregations have made changes in their lifestyles and structures in order to open themselves to renewal. A key area of concentration during this time of adaptation and renewal has been a desire to improve the quality of community life. The initial focus on community life following Vatican II centered pri-marily on local living situations and was largely problem-oriented. It em-phasized quantitative changes in existing structures, for example, chang-ing schedules, modifying prayer styles, and minimizing rules. As help-ful as these changes have been, the overall fruits of such a focus have been limited. What gradually has become clear is the need to shift the focus of community life, to broaden the horizons of "community," consider community not only within the context of religious life, but also within a broader Christian context as related to the life, work, and mis-sion of all God's people. This shift in focus calls us from a more intro-spective view of community life to an enhanced vision of community as related to Kingdom. 516 Hope for Community This article will be an attempt to explore "community" within the horizon of the kingdom of God. We will deal with the past development, present challenge, and future promise of community as viewed within this perspective. These observations are based on some fairly extensive experiences since Vatican II of working with a variety of religious groups, of women and men from various denominations, especially within the United States. Some Preliminary Understandings (1) Kingdom of God: This term attempts to express something of the mystery of the corporate vision of the People of God, that is, God's reign that embraces values such as love, freedom, peace, justice, unity, and fellowship. There are several perspectives of Kingdom, none of which exhausts the symbol. Kingdom is larger than any one of them. There is a sense in which the Kingdom is behind us, ahead of us, within us, and among us. The Kingdom is behind us in that it was the principal theme of Christ's preaching and was enfleshed and inaugurated in his person. The Kingdom is ahead of us in that it will reach consummation as a "new earth and a new heaven." In the words of Vatican lI's Pastoral Consti-tution on the Church in the Modern World: ". God is preparing a new dwelling place and a new earth where justice will abide and whose blessedness will answer and surpass all the longings for peace which spring up in the human heart" (n. 39). The Kingdom is within us in that it describes inner fellowship with God in mystical union and points to a human yearning for the living God that is deeper even than the hunger and thirst for the justice of God. The Kingdom is among us now in that it is already present among people who honestly seek to follow God's call and who live justly with others. This perspective refers to growth towards wholeness in the collective life of humanity--its laws, customs, institutions, works, politics, art, and so forth. It summons people now to the work of cultivating (or perhaps "uncovering" is more apt) the Kingdom "to give some kind of foreshadowing of the new age." (2) Future: In speaking about future hopes, distinctions need to be made between different kinds of futures: There are possible futures-- those which might be, limited only by the horizons of imagination; prob-able futures, those which are likely to be, indicated by present trends and tendencies; preferable futures, those which should be, in accord with sys-tems of values; and plausible futures, those which can be, capable of be-ing practically realized. Our focus here will be on a future vision of community within King- Review Jbr Religious, July-August 1988 dom perspectives that can shape attitudes, indicate behaviors, and mus-ter energy for further uncovering the Kingdom now. Our contention is that religious today are called to explore the possible, to assess the prob-able, to proclaim the preferable, and to implement the plausible. It is our further contention that such vision is essential to God's call to cocreate our future, to renew, indeed to refound community. Any community with-out a vision is moribund. (3) Community: In this context we are speaking about religious com-munity primarily, that is, intentional ecclesial groups of Christians who are called together in faith and bonded by memories of a shared past, hopes for a shared future, and commitments to a shared present. To-gether, members carry out a specific mission in service of the kingdom of God according to the unique charism of the group and by using their gifts for ministry in a concerted way. As with individuals, the commu-nity itself is called to ongoing corporate renewal in response to the Gos-pel, the charism of the group, the signs of the times, and the graced in-itiatives of its members. Community as Theological Imperative The origin of everything--the world and its people, all creation, the entire cosmos--is a God who is Trinitarian. The life of God, by its very nature, is relational, societal, communitarian--a perfect union without confusion, distinction without separation. The ultimate destiny of the whole of creation is the kingdom of God, which is also at its core communitarian, a perfect communion of all hu-mankind, the world and its history. As R. P. McBrien says: The initial experience of God's renewing and reconciling presence, which is the kingdom of God, evokes our theological quest for under-standing and excites the hope that one day our union with God and with one another will be realized to its fullest, when God will be all in all. ~ Communitarian, societal, relational life, then, is both the origin and the destiny of all creation. As disciples of Jesus we live in incarnational time that originates with the Trinity and finds completion in the fullness of Kingdom. Christ came in the flesh to show us that the way to God is through membership in the Kingdom, the principal sign of which is unity--oneness with God and with each other in Christ. Jesus' parting prayer for his disciples was: "May they all be one, just as, Father, you are in me and I am in you, so that they also may be one in us. that they may be one as we are one. With me in them and you in me, so may they be perfected in unity" Hope for Community / 519 (Jn 17:21-23). The Christian way to God is in and through community. Community, then, is not just a dimension essential to religious life; it is an invitation shared with all people, indeed, with all of creation. All are called to com-munity that, together with Christ, they may seek and proclaim the king-dom of God. The theological imperative of community is clearly enunciated by Vatican II in its Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World: God did not create man for life in isolation, but for the formation of so-cial unity . This communitarian character is developed and consum-mated in the work of Jesus Christ. For the Word made flesh willed to share in the human fellowship (n. 32). Community as an Evolving Reality in Human History The need to belong, to be part of a larger whole, is a basic human need. The experience of community has evolved over time. Families at first came together into kinship groups of tribe and clan primarily for sur-vival. Eventually tribes and clans grew into villages. Over thousands of years the tribes/clans/villages grew into cities/states/nations. Today the nation is the predominant human grouping. But already further changes seem to be moving towards what is referred to as the "global village" (interdependent world communi!y). We become members of these groupings by birth. Formerly living closely together over a lifetime in tribe/clan/village provided an unques-tionable sense of belonging and membership. In addition, such member-ship provided a clear sense of identity, values, and life-purpose. While life in the city/state/nation continues to give some sense of belonging and membership, it is less tangible than the former. Today nationality, for most, primarily shapes neither identity, values, nor life-purpose. All must struggle to find their own. While some people today would claim membership in the "global village," this certainly is not yet a univer-sal experience. One movement in this evolution of human community seems to be towards increasing fullness, beyond any single nation, race, or culture-- towards a community of humankind in this "global village." To Chris-tian ears this would seem to have a "Kingdom" ring that Teilhard de Chardin heard better than most: As the centuries go by, it seems that a comprehensive plan is indeed be-ing slowly carried on around us. A process is at work in the uni- 590 / Review for Religious, July-August 1988 verse . Through and thanks to the activity of mankind the new earth is being formed and purified and is taking on definition and clarity.2 Sociologists suggest that with the development of broader "born into" human groupings has come a proliferation of intentional groups which have provided a more tangible sense of belonging/connectedness. People choose to join such groups because they share a common purpose; for example, cause, interest, profession, problem. Intentional groups re-quire that members already have identity, values, and life-purpose. It is the shared purpose that brings people together concretely and gives them a sense of felt membership and connectedness. In these intentional groups, membership and connectedness are sustained by collaborative ac-tion as well as by personal presence and support. What we seem to have, then, evolving alongside the development of "born into" human group-ings, is the development of intentional groups. This evolutionary tracing makes clear that while communities (hu-man groupings) are constant human realities, the dynamics and processes of such groupings have been changing over time. Today the evolution of "born into" groups is moving toward more of an interdependent world-community. Rather than village or nation, the world itself is coming to be viewed as a single worldwide community in which we all are members. The obvious interrelatedness of world peace, world hunger, global economy, and so forth is an indicator that, as members of the planet earth, we share a common destiny. The devel-opment of intentional groups also illustrates the importance of shared pur-pose which brings individuals together and provides them with a sense of membership and connectedness. Changes in Religious Life Community Since Vatican II During the last twenty years, religious community has gone through many changes. One of the greatest impediments in the struggle to expe-rience true community, perhaps, is an obsession with local living as the focal point of community. In order to be free to look at community in terms of creative options, there is need to take another look at local liv-ing- what it can or cannot do now. In the past there seemed to be three factors that enabled local living situations to provide a strong sense of community: (I) Group living for many was an efficient way to support ministry. (2) It provided for most of the basic needs of the members, for example, physical (food, cloth-ing, shelter), relational (acceptance, support, companionship), spiritual (common prayer, liturgy, retreat day). (3) It gave each member a sense Hope for Community of relatedness and a strong sense of belonging due to commonly shared experiences and a clearly defined authority/obedience structure. At pre-sent these factors no longer seem operative in the same way and for the following reasons: (1) Because of increasing diversity in ministry, de-creasing involvement in corporate apostolates, and larger geographical distances, local community living is not always the most efficient arrange-ment to support ministry. More and more religious are living alone, in small groups, and with other congregations. (2) It can no longer be as-sumed that local living can adequately meet individuals' basic needs. This is due in part to an increasing diversity of lifestyles, prayer prefer-ences, work schedules, and so forth. In addition, increasing numbers of religious have discovered personally enriching relational and spiritual re-sources and experiences outside local living and even congregational life. (3) The experience of local living no longer automatically guarantees a sense of belonging/relatedness/membership. This is due, at least in part, to the decrease of commonly shared experiences and the minimizing of authority/obedience structures. In fact, for some the experience of local living has become alienating. Trying to force it seems only to make things worse. What then can people in a local living situation realistically do in terms of (I) finding support for ministry, (2) basic need satisfaction, and (3) nurturing a sense of belonging/relatedness/membership? Would it not seem to call for a change in expectations of what local living can pro-vide? In terms of finding support for ministry, might this not be more re-alistically supplemented by others with whom one is involved in the same or similar ministries both inside and outside the congregation? In terms of basic need-satisfaction: (a) Concerning physical needs, those who do live together must have some minimal compatibility; for example, as to what constitutes simplicity of lifestyle. (b) Concerning relational needs, the degree of required compatibility will depend on the degree of relationship expected. It may not be valid to expect intimacy (innermost, confidential, close relationship) or friendship (warmth, depth of feeling, affection). But it does seem valid for religious living together to expect a sense of companionship (living on good terms with one an-other). (c) Concerning spiritual needs, there must be moderate compati-bility in gathering for common prayer and basic respect for individual expressions of spirituality. As with relational needs, one cannot expect every local living situation to provide opportunities for deeper, more af-fective forms of prayer; for example, personal faith-sharing. 522 / Review for Religious, July-August 1988 In terms of membership (belonging/relatedness), living together does not automatically yield a sense of belonging. Reasons for living together tend to occur more on the basis of ministry or, in some instances, on the basis of personal preference. It may be that the experience of member-ship is not dependent on living together or daily presence. Perhaps more significant, yet less frequent, coming together may be more conducive to a sense of belonging in religious life today and in the future. But there is a need for some kind of congregational structures through which mem-bers can experience belonging to the whole. Belonging in community goes beyond socializing, meeting, living, and finding comfort with one another. Community is primarily the re-sult of bondedness around a common mission. This mission is some as-pect of Christ's mission--proclaiming the kingdom of God, according to the charism of a particular congregation. Community, in this perspec-tive, means belonging to a group that continues to call members to more, to stretch, to sacrifice, to move beyond themselves. It means going more deeply into that core relationship of commitment and belonging, of be-ing able to share, support, and challenge each other at that level. It means looking beyond individual development to group development. The time may have come to make more qualitative, attitudinal as well as structural changes in order that members can identify and experience what com-munity could/should be about. Today, looking at the communal dimen-sion of our lives, we would suggest that mission can guide us in identi-fying how religious can come together so as to have a matrix from which to be sent out to serve. Religious need to feel, sense, experience mem-bership in their congregations and exercise it in interdependent (rather than dependent or independent) fashion. Psychological Development Accompanying Changes Since Vatican II As already indicated, the initial changes that followed Vatican II were primarily external adaptations; for example, changes in dress, time, and form of prayer. Still these external adaptations opened the door to more significant changes. Soon efforts moved beyond the adaptation of externals to more substantive issues of renewal. This appears to have oc-curred in three general phases which can be viewed also as stages of matu-ration. The first phase consisted of a search for congregational identity (identity statements). Contrary to earlier practices, at this phase there was an attempt to engage the participation of the entire membership. This so-licitation of individual opinions helped catalyze the disassembling of re-ligious congregations as collective entities and evoked movement toward individuality on the part of members. Hope for Community / 523 At the second phase, there were many attempts to foster personal shar-ing (for example, house meetings, prayer groups, and small-group liv-ing) and the greater development of interpersonal relationships. Although this search for intimacy took place within the local living situation and in the workplace, both in and outside the congregation, the emphasis was primarily a within-the-congregation experience. In the third phase, attention turned to writing "mission statements." During this period energies were directed more externally with greater emphasis on ministry and service to others outside the congregation. The changes which occurred in these three phases were much more significant than the external adaptations mentioned earlier. These three phases in religious life are not unlike Erikson's fifth, sixth, and seventh stages of human growth and development: Identity Formation (in ado-lescence); Intimacy (in young adulthood); and Generativity (care and serv-ice of others in adulthood).3 Viewed in this perspective, the movement of individuals and congregations through these three phases can be seen/ understood in terms of maturation. For many religious this was a neces-sary maturing process which challenged them to greater personal growth and increasing individuality. This process of maturation enabled great numbers of religious to move from earlier patterns of passivity, compli-ance, and dependency towards becoming more active, assertive, and in-dependent. Each moved through this process along her/his own path, which was appropriate because the task was increasing individuality. But the movement towards active, assertive, and independent living only paved the way for additional movement and further change. Now many religious seem stuck, stagnant, experiencing, if you will, a "stalled generativity." True generativity demands that religious con-tinue to mature and become interactive, resonant, and interdependent. But such movement cannot be executed alone. In order to make this next step, religious will need a renewed sense and experience of co~nmunity. Present Inadequacy of Local Community Living We would contend that community, as we have known it, is no longer adequate because it has been based too largely on local living. Lo-cal community living, for many, no longer has the capacity as a struc-ture to provide members with a sense of community. Whether one's liv-ing situation is positive, neutral, or negative, there remains among many religious women and men a lack of connectedness to a group which at present can challenge, inspire, provide a vision significant enough to con-tain the religious commitment of one's life. It is becoming clearer that local living situations can more appropriately address the daily basic 524 / Review for Religious, July-August 1988 needs of religious members, but that they are inadequate in providing the context for their life commitment. In other words, community member-ship/ connectedness comes primarily from a sense of belonging to the larger whole. Alvin Toffler in projecting community for the future says it well: "Community is more than emotionally satisfying bonds. It re-quires strong ties between the individual and the organization. Commu-nity is absent because there is little sense of shared mission.' ,4 He con-nects the absence/loss of a sense of community with the lack of a shared sense of mission. So what can be done? How can religious meet their needs? Find sup-port for ministry? Reestablish bonds of belonging (membership)? Rather than problem-solve, as has often been done in the past, by focusing on how to "fix" local living, perhaps there is a need to step back and look at the goal of community as described earlier. Again, the purpose and path for all Christians is the kingdom of God as disciples of Jesus. Many have moved from dependence to independence and now need to move towards greater interdependence. In short, what we are suggesting is not so much structural change as a shift in perspective which can enable in-dividuals and groups to see community primarily in service of the King-dom. This, in turn, requires interdependent relating, both in order to pur-sue the group's mission and to meet the needs of members. Next Step: "Upper Room" Experiences In order to experience better a sense of membership/connectedness to the larger whole, religious must gather to profess their common be-lief in the Risen Lord. Such was the gathering of the disciples in the up-per room (Acts 2). Here we find: a coming together in fellowship; as dis-ciples (men and women); in confusion, fear, and uncertainty; united in their memory of and belief in the Risen Christ and his promise of the Spirit; gathered in prayerful support of one another; and open to the power of the Spirit who comes as gift, creates them anew, and unifies and empowers them with a passion for continuing Christ's mission-- proclaiming the kingdom of God. Perhaps what religious communities need today is a quest for simi-lar "upper room" experiences in which members can gather for prayer, reflection, celebration, and support. Conditions for "Upper Room" Experiences The kind of experiences we are suggesting basicallyrequires events at which members gather not just to attend, but to participate in local, regional, and congregational events for significant exchanges around mis-sion and the means for pursuing it. Not only is the topic of mission ira- Hope for Community/525 portant, but so also is the process of gathering. It, too, should mirror the Kingdom. This calls for approaches that will enable people to pray/reflect/ interact in such a way that mutual experiences can become disclosures of God's actions and invitations to a further "uncovering" of the King-dom. This implies sharing prayer at deeper levels, prayer proceeding from the very experiences of life and ministry in this incarnational King-dom. It also calls for celebrations of life together--its joys and sorrows, successes and failures, hopes and fears. In short, what is reflected upon, prayed from, and celebrated needs primarily to relate to the larger per-spective of the kingdom of God. Common community events that already provide such opportunities include: renewal/retreat programs, convocations, chapters, regional meet-ings, professions, jubilees, funerals, missioning ceremonies, and litur-gical and paraliturgical services commemorating special feasts and events. Perhaps even committee meetings have Kingdom potential! In ad-dition, there are larger ecclesial, ecumenical, and civic events to which religious groups could bring and find Kingdom perspectives. These perspectives hopefully can point to attitudes, dispositions, val-ues for preferable futures that include: a passion for the Kingdom per-meating not just the matter covered, but also the manner of the sharing (with reverent honesty); a spirit of sacrifice and compromise that allows people to let go of fixed positions (not of principle or conviction how-ever!) that might impede plausible steps for now (discernment is a mat-ter of when as well as what!); a determination to love each other until all embrace the same truth; a hunger for justice and peace tempered by compassion; a profound respect for freedom with accountability; a per-sistent quest of unity while preserving diversity. "Upper Room" Dynamics Some dynamics for gatherings that might further the Kingdom would include: (I) commonly accepted agenda that concern significant issues; (2) "contemplative listening" that would value periods of silence and listening with the heart; (3) sincere reverence for the opinions and espe-cially for the experience of others; (4) sensitive sharing that helps per-sons speak the truth in love with the authority of their own experience, yet with a certain tentativeness and humility; (5) seeking to build con-sensus rather than deciding by vote, which tends to create division be-tween "winners" and "losers." Obstacles to "Upper Room" Experiences There are, of course, obstacles to such "upper room" experiences. 526 / Review for Religious, July-August 1988 Most seriously obstructive to any effbrt towards greater interdependence in community is a certain immobility resulting from a loss of belief the mission and of hope in the future of community. Unfortunately there are those who have become victims of the inevitability of probable fu-tures and who are unable or unwilling to live into the Paschal Mystery in present diminishments as the prelude to new life. There are lesser resistances of varying degrees. On the one hand, there are some who desire to restore past forms of community life rather than to renew them. Those inclined this way tend to depend on others (usually in authority) to tell them how. These are often angry, depressed, apathetic, or passively aggressive in resisting change. On the other hand, there are those who have opted for more independent styles of living and working and who .are reluctant to forgo individual paths or alternate groups which have claimed prior allegiance of membership. Many of these not only are frustrated, but have become increasingly more alien-ated and indifferent to the community; some have a pervasive resistance to the accountability true interdependence requires. Then, of course, there are obstacles from the logistics of coming to-gether- with considerations of distance, expense, ministerial commit-ments, depletion of energy, and so forth. A formidable deterrent also is the memory of poor past experiences at meetings that have not only fallen short, but have also been destructive, of "upper room" experi-ences. Signs of Hope for the Future In seeking signs of hope for the future of intentional faith communi-ties, we would point to some significant developments that perhaps fall within the range of probable futures. Some are occurring outside religious life as such and even beyond the confines of the Roman Catholic Church. In general, there is a grow-ing consciousness of and desire for the "global village" especially among those committed to nuclear deterrence and ecological balance. Common causes of justice and peace (kingdom of God among us) have brought together various religious groups into organizations like the In-terfaith Center for Corporate Responsibility. What seems to be a wide-spread quest for deeper interiority (kingdom of God within us) has stimu-lated ecumenical attempts to nurture prayer and to train spiritual di-rectors; for example, Shalem Institute for Spiritual Formation, in Wash-ington, D.C. A particularly striking phenomenon is the emergence of "new com-munities" like Taiz6 and L'Arche which bear some common character- Hope for CommuniO, / fi27 istics including: inspiration from existing spiritual traditions; the follow-ing of Christ as proposed by the Gospel; equality among the members as regards sex, state in life, and ministry; ecumenical membership with-out loss of confessional identity; cordial relations with Church authori-ties; a place for couples and children; a strong sense of presence among others; a readiness to adapt to changing situations; commitment to com-munity linked to commitment to each person's ministry; decisions by dis-cernment and shared responsibility; gradual movement towards perma-nent commitment with room for temporary association; a nonjudgmen-tal spirit; varying degrees of involvement in community; and a spirit of hospitality.5 Some developments are occurring within religious life itself. Evi-dences of these are intercongregational endeavors on a national scale like the LCWR (Leadership Conference of Women Religious), the CMSM (Conference of Major Superiors of Religious Men), and Network. Lo-cally and regionally there are examples of collaboration like intercom-munity novitiate programs and union theological schools. Along less formal lines, intercommunity and even interdenomina-tiona~ support groups are emerging among people involved in ministries like spiritual formation and spiritual direction. Within congregations themselves, internal support groups (of mem-bers from different local communities) seem to be increasing, as do pro-grams of lay affiliation and the utilization of lay volunteers. Conclusion The future belongs to those who dare to hope and who are willing to commit themselves to help shape it. Some questions that members of religious communities might ask themselves in fashioning such a future are: To what extent is our life together focused on the Kingdom? How can our gatherings be more like "upper room" experiences? What atti-tudes/ behaviors/dynamics do we need to make them so? What obstacles hinder it? What signs do we see (inside or outside the congregation) of the Kingdom being uncovered? Where do members feel nudges towards further corporate transformation (conversion) in moving in the direction of a greater Kingdom-orientation? The concluding lines of Lillian Smith's Journey6 articulate some questions perhaps pertinent for those who would help shape the preferable futures of community life: A century from now, what shall be said of our journey in these times? And who shall the shapers have been'? . . . Who shall have shaped the future more? The hopeful dreamers who were strong enough to suffer 528 / Review for Religious, July-August 1988 for the dream? Or the fearful pessimists who were convinced that dream-ing and hope are for sleepers only, not for those awake to the age? A century from now, shall hope and humor been strong enough to enable living with unanswerable questions? Or shall the pain that a tran-sitional age necessarily brings have caused a retreat to old answers that no longer acknowledge new questions'? A century from now, we shall have indeed journeyed . . . backward or forward. Direction can no longer be given by circumstance; real journeyers know that the direction is always chosen by those who make the journey. Who shall choose the direction? ¯ . . So the question is still the same . A century from now, what shall be said of our human journey in these times? And who shall the shapers have been? NOTES ~ R. P. McBrien, Catholicism (Minneapolis: Winston, 1980), p. 907. 2 p. Teilhard de Chardin, Hymn of the Universe (New York: Harper and Row, 1961), p. 93. 3 E. H. Erikson, Identity: Youth attd Crisis (New York: Norton, 1968), pp. 128- 139. 4 See A. Toffler, The Third Wave (New York: William Morrow & Co., 1980), p. 384. 5 New Beginnings (Reprint from Bulletin 92, Pro mundi vita, spring 1983; Washing-ton, D.C.: Religious Formation Conference). 6 Lillian Smith, The Journey (New York: Norton, 1954). Finding Prayer in Action John R. Welsh, S.J. After a considerable career in high-school work in the South, Father Welsh became a pastor in New Orleans and then in Brazil, where he has also given retreats and par-ish missions. At present he is the director of the Apostleship of Prayer for the arch-diocese of S~.o Paulo. He may be addressed at Patio do Col~gio, 84:01016 S~o Paulo, S.P.; Brazil. The most abiding challenge to those who direct the prayer life of people in "active" apostolates or engaged in pastoral activity has to be that of indicating the relevance of prayer within the context of apostolic action. "Relevance" may not be the most apt word to denote that vague, haunt-ing feeling that somehow the period of my formal prayer ought to "say something" or "bear upon" all the rest of my day, devoted to activity. I use "relevance" rather to connote through an association of images, instead of trying to define precisely what we all sense: that prayer and action, certainly as an ideal, are conjoined. On the other hand, in offering these reflections of a method for con-sciously uniting our activity with our prayer, I prefer to use the language of precision and definition. Supposing agreement that in day-to-day prac-tice we rarely advert to definitions and hardly at all do so with any pre-cision, I hope in what follows to awaken in readers a sense that "I'm already doing that"; then, through some precision, to help them to at-tend more reflectively on its advantages in prayer-action dynamics. In other words, this article has no pretensions of describing a brand-new method, but only of setting out in a descriptive way the interaction or relevance of prayer and apostolate. Circular Interaction The interaction may be imagined as circular, starting with (a) prayer, 529 530 / Review for Religious, July-August 1988 (b) going on rounds of activities, and (c) closing the day with reflection. True, these three "instants" are well known and practiced widely. What makes of them a dynamic is the interconnection, the uniting, of each "in-stant" with the others and thus a closing of the circuit, so to speak. It is on the value of this "fitting together" of prayer-action-reflection that I am focusing. (a) The "prayer" I speak of is simply the time of formal prayer at the start of the day, the morning meditation or set of prayers or readings which are often done in common, either as preparation for the Eucharist or within the Liturgy of the Hours. It comprises both "hearing the word of the Lord" and "pondering on it in one's heart"; listening to the Lord and responding as that word motivates and arouses sentiments in my heart. As a simple illustration, I fix attention in morning prayer on a chal-ice on the altar as a symbol of my daily offering to Christ in union with the Holy Sacrifice offered "from the rising to the set of the sun." (b) "Activities" include all the occupations of the day, be they study, raising children, teaching, nursing, directing, counseling, travel-ing, attending planning sessions, doing business, or keeping house. Here it is vital that the sentiments evoked in prayer "overflow" and stream into the kind of person who is performing the tasks of the day. To put it another way, the one who prayed earlier should be saturated in the af-fectivity or the spirit that the prayer stimulated and in this spirit continue thinking, feeling, and deciding; and, of course, he or she should act and judge and treat others in that same spirit. Continuing the illustration above (the chalice on the altar), I set out for a meeting on the other side of my vast city, choosing the wrong bus, missing the interurban train, and arriving long after the appointed time, only to discover that I have come to a parish with the same name as another in the same sector and that the.meeting, now concluding, is at the other parish, a good two miles distant. Staying where I have arrived, I visit the staff of a recreational program for children, which is modeled on a type common throughout the city. Though frustrated, I sense I have made an important contact for my work, one more useful perhaps than the meeting I missed. (c) The "reflection" at the close of the day may come in many forms: examination of conscience, recitation of Evening Hour, commu-nity night prayers, an evening Mass, or a private review of the day. In this moment one passes in review the significant moments of the day's activities, letting what is "significant" come to the fore spontaneously: an image deeply impressed, a personality encountered, a conversation whose very overtones I recall, or the salient emotional tone of the day, Finding Prayer in Action ! 531 such as anguish, euphoria, anger, frustration, or quiet satisfaction in un-folding events. Reverting to the illustration I have been using: late at night I look back on my day. Th~ sentiments of frustration tinged with resentment somehow evoke the Lord's challenging words to the two "sons of thunder": "Can you drink the chalice that I will drink?" And I think, this is the chalice I saw on the altar when I prayed my daily of-fering, but through the day's events now it is a chalice of frustration and incomprehension, like the one Jesus chose in union with the Father's will. Now I have, in deed and in fact, just such a chalice to complete the offering I made to the Father through this morning's words of offer-ing. Visit to a Bairro and Back Coincidentally, on the very day I was planning what to say in a con-ference on "prayer and action" to lay ministers of an impoverished com-munity on the outskirts of an important urban center in northwest Bra-zil, the events I recount below took place. My day began with a reflection on the situation of the great majority of families living in this bairro spread out all over this dry, unproduc-tive area, whose only "in
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Review for Religious - Issue 19.5 (September 1960)
Issue 19.5 of the Review for Religious, 1960. ; Review Reli, gious Change of Busine.ss Officel Prayer of Pope Clement XI Growth in the 'Particular Examen by Paul Fd,'. O'Brien, S.'.~. Spiritual C. on~e,rences by. Th~omas Dubay, . S, Mo prayer and Action by Columban Browning, C.P. La Sallian Prayer for Active Religious by Brother F. Joseph, F.S.C. Survey of Roman Documents Views, Newsl Previews Questions and A~swers Book Reviews O Z 258 m 269 279 294 300 30l 305 Change of Business Office ~ TER September 15, 1960, the business office of. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS will change its address to the following: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Business Office 428 E. Preston Street Baltimore 2, Maryland After the above date all matters referring to new subscriptions, renewals, or back copies should be sent to the new address. The editorial office of the REVIEW will remain at St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. Similarly the Question and Answer Department will remain at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland; and the Book Review Editor will continue at West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana. +257 Prayer of Pope Clement ×1 THE LATIN text of the following prayer attributed to Pope Clement XI is to be found in Acta Apostolicae Sedis,~ 52 (1960), 358-59. According to a decree of the Sacred Congre-gation of Rites issued on February 24, 1960 (AAS, p. 359), the Latin text of the prayer is to be inserted in all future editions of the Roman Missal as part of the thanksgiving prayers after Mass. Moreover, a decree of the Sacred Penitentiary of March 11, 1960 (AAS, p. 361), has attached an indulgence of five years when the prayer is recited devoutly and with contrite heart; furthermore once a month and under the usual conditions a plenary indulgence can be gained by those who have piously recited the prayer for a whole month. I believe, Lord, but let me believe more firmly; I hope, but let me hope more confidently; I love, but let me love more ardently; I sorrow, but let me sorrow more strongly. I adore You as my first principle; I desire You as my last end; I praise You as my everlasting benefactor; I invoke You as my kindly defender. Direct me by Your wisdom; surround me by Your justice; comfort me by Your mercy; protect me by Your power. Lord, I offer You my thoughts that they may be of You; my words that they may be about You; my deeds that they may be in accord with You; my sufferings that they may be for You. I desire whatever You desire; I desire it because You de-sire it; I desire it as You desire it; I desire it a~ long as You desire it. Lord, this is my prayer: May You enlighten my mind, in-flame my will, cleanse my heart, sanctify my soul. Let me weep for my past sins; let me repelI future tempta-tions; let me correct my evil inclinations; let me cultivate my proper virtues. 258 PRAYER OF POPE CLEMENT XI Give to me, good Lord, love of Youl hatred of myself, zeal for my neighbor, contempt of the world. Let me be eager to obey my superiors, to assist my in-feriors, to .be.attentive to my friends, and to spare my enemies. Let me conquer pleasure by austerity, greediness by gen-erosity, anger by mildness, tepidity by fervor. Make me prudent in judgment, steadfast in danger, patient in adversity, humble in prosperity. Grant, Lord, that I may be attentive in prayer, moderate in my sustenance, diligent in my work, firm in my decisions. .May I taIce care to possess interior innocence, exterior ¯ modesty, exemplary relationships, and an orderly life. "Let me be assiduous in controlling nature, fostering grace, keeping the law, and working out my salvation. Let me learn from You how fragile is the earthly, how great the .divine, how brief the temporal, how permanent the eternal. Grant that I may prepare for death, fear judgment, escape hell, and obtain paradise. Through Christ our Lord. Amen. 259 Growth in the Particular Examen Paul W. O'Brien, S. J. THROUGH the popularization of books on prayer and a more enlightened spiritual direction, most souls know that there is a growth in prayer and that this growth involves a sim-plification. They. know the answers, at least theoretically, when they find their meditation becoming difficult, when their soul seems to be "doing nothing," but when they cling in loving at-tention to their God vaguely perceived. They recognize this as the process of simplification and hence can keep their souls in peace. At about the same time they find that their particular ex-amen no longer "works" and has lost its interest. Something is wrong. The soul is disturbed. It has learned to grow in prayer; it has not learned to grow in its examen. Offhand one might suspect that the simplifying action of God would not be confined to but one phase of the spiritual life, my prayer. It ought to reach into all my dealings with God. It ought to influence the character of my examen-just as it ought to have some effect on the other aspects of my spiritual life. And so it does, and thereby creates the problem of my adjustment. It is this problem that will be dealt with here, my progressive adaptation to God's simplifying action. But it calls for a preliminary exposition of the particular examen. Unless I know the instrument I am using, I cannot correctly adjust it. There is question throughout of the Ignatian particular examen. Not that St. Ignatius invented it; he.didn't. It is as old as Christianity; even older, for we find it practised by pagan philosophers. The Greek and Latin fathers knew and rec-ommended it. The fathers of the desert made assiduous use of it. But if St. Ignatius did not invent it, he did put it in better order, insisted greatly on it, incorporated it organically into the spiritual life, and has been responsible in. great measure for its spread among religious and lay folk. The Reverend Paul W. O'Brien is stationed at Bellarmine College, P. O. Box 143, Baguio City, Philippine Islands. 26O PARTICULAR EXAMEN Purity of Heart or Purity of Conscience? It will help to clarify the ~ture of the particular examen if we consider how it differs from the general examen. At first sight the distinction seems rather obvious, implied in the very names. The general examen is general, and deals with all sins; the particular examen is particular, and deals with only one sin. In other words there is no difference except in the number of sins considered. However a glance at the text of the Exercises reveals a much more profound distinction. Not only do they differ in their purpose, but their sphere of action and method are also different. The general examen is the kind of examen one makes for confession ("to confess .better" as we read in .the Exercises); its purpose is to purify the soul, to work a reconciliation with God; its field of action is the realm of conscience; it considers thoughts, words, and deeds under the aspect of culpability; it aims at purity of conscience. The particular examen is quite different. It deals with the obstacles to perfection, to the perfect service of God. Its purpose is "to correct and amend." Its sphere of action consists of ill-ordered affections and inclinations.Even where the matter may coincide with that of the general examen, its viewpoint is different. The sins or defects are considered not so much under their aspect of culpability, as something to be forgiven;~ but rather under their aspect of disorder, as something to be righted. It aims at purity of heart and comes to what the" great spiritual writers (Lallement, Rigoleuc) recommend as the "guard of the heart." An Attitude of Vigilant Control When we come to consider the method, we find an even more essential difference. At first glance they seem so alike: both employ a period of examination twice a day, at noon and before retiring; at this time both follow practically the same process, for the particular examen is tacked on to the last four points of the general examen. But, here the likeness end~. Whereas the general examen is confined to these two periods and may be considered as an operation, an act, the particular examen extends over the whole day, and is primarily a state. of soul, an attitude of vigilant control. St. Ignatius tells us that "straightway on rising, the person must resolve to guard him- 261 PAUL W. O'BRIEN Review for Religious self with diligence." It is this attitude of watchfulness that sets the particular examen at almost opposite poles to the gen-eral examen. It is not merely a checking, of the mileage twice a day; it is the constant preoccupation of the driver of the car E to get it started, to see that there is enough gas, to keep it on the road. The particular examen stays with me at every moment of the trip. Hence the essence of the particular examen is in this watch-fullness, this state of soul, together with the double control at noon and night. Without the watchfulness, the control is use-less ; but without the control, the watchfulness is in great danger of evaporating or of resting idly in theoretical resolutions that never materialize. The "Realizer" The function of the particular examen in my life begins to be clearer. It is the instrument that insures the realization of my ideal. It brings my life out of the world of theory, of vague sentimentalism, and makes it° real, something that is actually lived. As long as my ideals, resolutions, remain in the intentional order, I get nowhere. They must be realized in my daily life, in the concrete individual acts that go to make up that life. And so the particular examen is the great "realizer" as it con-trols the actuation of my desires for perfection. It must go hand in hand. with my other spiritual exercises. It is in my meditation, my spiritual reading, my general examen that I outline my resolutions, determine what I have to do. But it is the particular examen that sees to it that I do it. Hence its primary importance in any realistic spiritual life. It is essential therefore that I get started as soon as I begin my day. This "getting started" involves two things: (1) knowing clearly what the .sub]ec$ of my particular examen is; (2) resolving to watch it carefully until the next period of control. If I am inclined to forget it, I should write it out clearly, or incorporate it in a prayer with the motives for choosing it, and then put it in my shoe or some place where I will find it as soon as I get up. It is useless to check at noon the mileage of a car that never got started. So I must get it started. Once. started, it must be kept moving, must be kept on the road. Here the role of watchfulness is essential. When I see 262 September, 1960 PARTICULAR EXAMEN the car begin to deviate, a quick look at God with an "I'm sorry, Lord," and I resolve anew to keep going straight. When I notice that I've begun to slow down as I daydream along the way, again a quick look of sorrow, and I resume my desired speed. The particular examen is the instrument of vigilant control. Esteemed by Saints It should be obvious why the saints esteemed this practise. It is difficult to conceive of a seriotis spiritual ]ire that does not either consciously or unconsciously make use of all the essential.elements of the particular examen. I desire God with all my heart. I want to serve Him perfectly. I look to see what hinders me in this service. I resolve to avoid it, and I keep checking to make sure that I am avoiding it. Thisis the particu-lar examen. Were I deliberately to omit any of these elements, one would not he judging rashly to doubt the sincerity of my purpose. And so we can understand why St. Ignatius, a great mystic, would practise the particular examen faithfully to the day of his death. We do not find strange the words of another great contemplative, St. Margaret Mary: "It seems to me that one of the best means for advancing in perfection is the use of the particular examen on the fault we have resolved to root out, and on the contrary virtue which we desire to acquire. We must mark our faults in a little book sO that we can impose on ourselves some penance for them at the end of the day" (The Letters of S~in~ M~rgare~ Mary Alacoque, translated by Clarence A. Herbst, S.J. [Chicago: Regnery, 1954], p. 93). We can understand why St. Ignatius insisted on the particular examen with two of his most famous and busiest sons, Fathers Lainez and Le Jay, when he sent them to the Council of Trent at the request of Pope Paul III to be the Pope's theologians. He gave them several pages of directives on how to conduct themselves at the Council, but for their personal lives only two counsels. One of these "was to be faithful to their particular examen. It is interesting to note how he describes this, marking out clearly what is essential in the practise. He tells them i "In. the morning resolve, and examine yourselves twice a day." So often we are tempted to confuse the essence, which is wholly interior, with some of the helps culled by St. Ignatius from the lives of the saints or learned from his own experience. These he gives 263 PAUL W. O'BRIEN Review far Religious us as "additions," to be used if they help and in so far as they help. He tells us that it has helped him and others to "lay one's hand on his breast repenting when he has fallen"--a simple action that makes our return to God more conscious and makes it easier to remember our falls. He also advises that we note our falls in a little book so as to control our progress. Some find that an equivalent effect can be attained without marking, by imposing a suitable penance in proportion to the falls. We know that St. Ignatius used to repair his failings with additional strokes of the discipline. Progressive Adaptation of the Subiect Once we have understood the nature of the particular examen--it is an instrument of vigilant control; and the method ~ that this vigilance, a state of soul, must begin with the first moment of the day and be continued throughout, while the control is exercised chiefly during the noon and night exa-men, we are in a pdsition to .take up the critical question of our growth in the particular examen. This will involve the constant adaptation of the subject and the mode of operation to a changing spiritual life. And here a word of caution. St. Ignatius, when giving us in the Exercises the "bare bones" of his method, intends it to be given to all types of souls. He will give it to those who have little talent, to those whose generosity is not up to par, to those who will be sent away as unfit for a long retreat, and at the same time .he will give it to a Xavier, a F.aber, to those "who desire .to profit in every possible way." Obviously he ex-pects it to be adapted. He himself indicates in the Exercises this adaptation, giving us clues on choosing the subject of the examen. In the "method" itself he proposes "sins and defects". In his first method of prayer, which is a meditated examen he indicates virtues ("The better to avoid these sins, let one re-solve and endeavor., to acquire the virtues contrary to them"). And during t~e whole time of the long retreat he in-dicates a subject that will thoroughly baffle one who has not grasped the essence of the examen. He asks the retreatant to make his examen on "~he rooting out of defects and negligences in the exercises or additions." Now these ten additions, to say nothing of the exercises, involve such varied acts as my last thought on retiring, my first thought in the morning, my posture 264 September, 1960 PARTICULAR EXAMEN in prayer, my silence during the day, my reading, the amount of light to be let into my room, and so on. How can these varied acts be the subject of a particular examen? What is particular about them? What unifies them? It is here I believe that we have the principle of adaptation. St. Ignatius realizes that the fruit of the retreat, the total love and service of God in all things, depends on keeping alive and active the "desire to profit in egery way possible." It is this desire for perfection that gives unity to the various minute prescriptions, which all center around this desire and are but so many means of actuat-ing and stimulating it. Centered Around My Dominant Attraction Note that though this desire for perfection is the driving force of the soul, it is not the subject of the particular examen. The tendency to the end is never the subject of the examen; it deals rather with the means, the concrete, individual acts by which I actuate and nourish this tendency. Thus for example I do not make my examen on union with God (which is the end), but rather.on the concrete acts by means of which I procure this union with God. Now though the particular examen may be directed toward any urgent need of the soul (as when the soul needs patience for a particularly trying situation), still normally it should be centered around the dominant attraction of the soul. This of course will vary from soul to soul, and even in the same soul, especially in the beginning when the dominant attraction may not yet be clearly defined. It is practically impossible to keep up interest, to keep all my powers alert and vigilant throughout the day, if the question at issue is only of secondary importance, For the particular examen to succeed, it must be of vital interest to me; it must be so selected that I can throw all the weight of my effort into keeping it, knowing.that in keeping it, I assure the critical point in my progress. Usually if my retreat resolu-tions have been intelligently made, the particular examen will aim at their execution. Hence the major lines of attack will probably revolve around prayer, fidelity to duty, self-denial, purity of intention and purity of affection, simply because these are the pivotal points of our spiritual life. Now as my spiritual life grows and changes, so the particu-lar examen must change. When the soul is plodding through the 265 PAUL W. O~BRIEN Review fo'r Religious early stages of its purification, when it finds a multitude of ill-ordered tendencies blocking its way to God, it is not surpris-ing that its examen will center on progressively ridding itself of these sins and defects. It is but co-operating with the dominant action of God. During this peribd the soul is usually practising discursive prayer, as it reasons its way through the motives of the spiritual life and bhilds itself, up for the struggle. The process of simplification has not yet set in, and hence it does not find this variety in its prayer and examen a burden. The examen fits it. Progress Through Simplification But as the soul becomes more purified, it finds the example of Jesus more attractive. Its orientation becomes more positive. There is a movement towards simplification. Does this mean that the soul has no more defects to correct? Not at all. The soul may never reach this state. It means only that now the dominant tendency of the soul has changed. It finds the piece-meal consideration of the virtues less attractive. It begins to find a unity to its life in a dominant attraction- some attitude of love, or abandonment, or conformity to God's will. It finds its life becoming less a series of disparate acts and more the progressive actuation of this dominant attraction, this loving sacrifice 5f itself to a God vaguely perceived. And the same grace that is simplifying its prayer, making it impossible to reason from one truth to~ another, is also at work simplifying its examen, drawing it to center around the dominant drive of its soul. During this period of its progress it is being drawn strongly towards the essence of perfection, the total renuncia-tion spoken of ,in the GOspel, towards the choice in love of the poverty and humiliations of Christ crucified. It is well here to call attention to several subjects of the particular examen recommended by St. Ignatius himself. Writ-ing to the Jesuit scholastics of Portugal. on June 1, 1551, he urges them to examine themselves on these two points: "They must exercise themselves in finding God in all things, whether they hold converse with someone, go for a walk, look about., in all that they do . " And secondly: "And they must offer frequently to God our Lord all their studies and works, taking care that they accept them out of love for Him, putting aside their likes and dislikes that they may serve His Majesty in something." 266 September, 1960 PARTICULAR EXAMEN One might wonder how such a positive examen could be marked. Two ways are suggested: I may determine in advance the times and places in which I should make these acts, for example, before each new duty, and then mark my failures. Or I may mark the number of positive acts unless the number is too large and the process becomes complicated. In this case it is better to mark the general tone of the period with. A, B, C. How often we come across a good soul that has mistaken the essence of the particular examen and assures you that he doesn't make any examen. And yet all the essential elements are there. I don't know whether the Little Flower intended the follow!ug to be her particular examen, but see if it doesn't ful-fill the definition : a watchful control over the dominant tendency of the soul--realized in conc.rete acts, for example, of sacri-fice, purity of intention, and purity of affection. She writes in her Autobiography: "But this love of mine, how to show it? Love needs to be proved by action. Well even a little child can s~atter flowers, to perfume the throne-room with their fra-grance; even a little child can sing, in its shrill treble, the great canticle of love. That shall be my life, to scatter flowers m to miss no single opportunity of making some small sacrifice, here by a smiling look, there by a kindly word, always doing the tiniest things right, and doing it for love" (°Autobiography of St. Thdr~se of Lisieux, translated by Ronald Knox [New York: Kenedy, 1958], p. 237). And when she fails? "Sometimes I miss the chance of making them, sacrifices that give me such peace of soul; but I don't lose heart. I just resign myself to the loss of One peaceful hour, and try to be more on my guard another time" (p. 299). Now I don't know whether St. Therese marked her failings (I suspect that she didn't), or whether she just tried to make innumerable acts of love; but in any case knowingly or unknowingly, she was furnishing all the essential elements of an authentic Ignatian examen: the watchful control over a dominant tendency of love, actuated in acts of sacrifice and devotion to her tiniest duties. Before the Holy and Loving God There is one other aspect of this simplification that must be touched on briefly. Not only does the subject of the examen vary, but likewise the mode of operation. In other words the type of one's pr.:yer is reflected in the way one makes his 267 PAUL W. O'BRIEN examen. When in the early stages of one's purification the prayer is more discursive, the soul is more likely to be taken up with itself, to be reasoning its way to sorrow and amendment, to proceed from knowledge of itself to knowledge of God. But as the soul advances and its prayer becomes more simple, it reaches out more intuitively for God, fixing its gaze on God rather than on self. Instead of looking at self with its defects and reasoning to God, it looks rather at God and sees self in His light. Under the gaze of such a God, holy and loving, it finds its faults more repugnant, its sorrow more intimate, its trust more filial. But its gaze remains fixed primarily on God. Its examen has now grown to the stature of its prayer. When we have understood this growth and simplification of our particular examen, many of its problems will be solved, but not all. As long as it remains that most effective instru-men for eliminating self from our lives, it will meet with opposition, and chiefly from ourselves. But for that very reason, we will cling to it until it guide us to the goal that has always been its aim m a perfect service of God in unselfish love. 268 Spiritual Conferences Thomas Dubay, S. M. BECAUSE the study on retreats presented in these pages several years ago (REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 15 [1956], 3-10, 91-96, 128-34, 177-84, 253-62, 301-8) seems to have achieved a purpose both for retreatants and retreat masters alike, I have thought it advisable to write up another aspect of that study that has not yet been published. That aspect deals With the spiritual conference usually given to religious communities throughout the course of the year. The vast ma-jority (something over 99 %) of the 700 sisters who participated in our study are in favor of the spiritual conference, provided it is given by an interested and capable priest. We can no better express their collective endorsement of the institution than by a representative cross-section of their views: The greatest need on the missions is for regular spiritual conferences by religious . To me they seem always very inspiring and almost a necessity, especially when a load of work distracts . If the talks were "helpful, at least once a month-otherwise I see no point to them. ¯ . . Motherhouses are generally well taken care of in this regard. Sunday sermons, retreat Sunday conferences care for this matter well. On the missions at least one conference a month preferably on retreat Sunday would be a real blessing. Listening to parish sermons frequently does little good for religious in their own spiritual life . If we are to know and love our Lord we cannot hear too much about Him . Once a week would be wonderful. We need much spiritual (food) and do not always have it. It is really uplifting to listen to a spiritual talk when one's soul and heart crave for it. We miss it especially here at . One Father comes once a month and he is always welcome. His talks are. most helpful and uplifting. Too bad he cannot come oftener. The sisters were not lacking in reasons for their welcoming of the well-prepared spiritual conference. Typical of those reasons are the following: We spend so much time "being busy about many things," it would be well to take time out-about one-half hour-for a little spiritual refresh: ment, encouragement and exhortation . These are very helpful insofar as they keep all the religious closer together in striving toward their The Reverend Thomas Dubay is stationed at Notre Dame Seminary, 2901 S. Carrollton Avenue, New Orleans 18, Louisiana. 269 THOMAS DUBAY Review for Religious goal in a common manner . The sisters need something that is iust for them. Often Sunday sermons are directed to groups present . Without occasional (weekly) conferences on some point of our religious life, we get to see only the material side of the work and our (so-called) monotonous life becomes a burden; consequently we miss graces that should draw us closer to God . The conferences throughout the year are, perhaps, of greater importance than the annual retreat and too few religious are fortunate enough to have these. At the annual retreat a sister is prepared to make the most of whatever material the retreat-master will present-the retreat is seldom a completely barren experience. However, it is sad that sisters get so little spiritual help during the year while they are busy with work and problems. It seems evident that the average priest does not consider extra assistance to religious neces-sary . As I said, I'm hungry for spiritual food . Unless we have something to encourage us and help us keep our goal in mind, we tend to become lax and seem to slip into bad habits instead of growing in the spiritual life. To these reasons for the value of the regular spiritual eonferenee I would add two bthers that are perhaps reasons for the reasons. The first is that psychologically the spoken word, all else being equal, produces more effect on us than does the written. This is true not only in religious matters but in secular as well. We human beings are just so made up that an earnestly spoken message is, other things being equal, considerably more moving than an identical written one. It is a simple fact of experience that a person-with-a-message is mueh more effective than a book-with-a-message. Blessed is the religious community that can have at least one well-prepared eonferenee eaeh week given by a holy and interested priest. Sisters are human and social, and so they, too, need the support and enlightenment and push .that derive from the word of God in .telligently and holily announeed. Spiritual reading is excellent . . . but insufficient. The second reason is that 'providentially faith de facto still comes through hearing, despite .the vast flow from modern presses. St. Paul's insistence on the preached "good news" .is pertinent in our day just as it .was in his. Religious, being human like all the rest of men, need the enlightening, moving, and bolstering effeet of God's word as presented by a Church-commissioned herald. Frequency HOW often ought the spiritual conference to be woven into the typical religious community's work year? As we might ex- 270 September, 1960 SPIRITUAL (~0NFERENCES pect, opinions vary widely all the way from the few who would like conferences twice a week (or even a daily homily at Mass) to the other few who would prefer none at all. Approximately sixty per cent of the sisters queried reflected a contentment with the common practice of the monthly conference, while the remaining forty per cent (approximately) were almost equally divided in preferring conferences every week and once every two weeks. From reading the sisters' comments, however, I came away with the impression that a goodly number of the sixty per cent group would like conferences more frequently than once a month if (1) they were competently prepared and given, and (2) if obstacles (lack of time, for example) could be removed. We may note some of the typical .comments that were. offered on this question of the frequency of spiritual con-ferences : The need would depend on the spiritual benefits of a similar nature available i.n a particular environment; for example, in a motherhouse the Sunday sermons are keyed "to the needs" of religious. Sisters stationed in city parishes would welcome more conferences . Once a week (her preference) almost seems like spiritual gluttony-but I suppose if a lot of vocal prayers were omitted from the daily horarium and more time allowed for meditation, spiritual reading and mental prayer, one wouldn't ask for spiritual conferences so often . A profitable homily at Sunday's Mass is most inspiring- and almost all we have time for apart from an extra conference on retreat Sunday once a month . Every two weeks if the conferences are really designed for religious and are not just ordinary good sermons . I believe that one conference a week is certainly not too much to keep a professed sister on the right path . If we have one week a spiritual conference by a priest, the next week one by our superior in connection with the chapter of faults, we have enough for reflection and practice. What's the use of so many conferences if we don't do half of what we hear? . . . If a priest was really in-terested in giving them, weekly; but otherwise, never. We have them monthly; but so many assigned can't stand the assignment, so nothing gained . Once a month; oftener, during Advent and Lent . I would say every week if it were not too ditBcult to work into a priest's schedule. Also if the sister's program is not overcrowded . Retreat Sunday is an. ideal time due to the fact that we are more recollected and pressing duties do not permit it oftener . Once a week can be a tremendous help in keeping steady, particularly where one works constantly with seculars! It is an absolute, necessity . The oftener, the better- but our time is so very limited. Furthermore, most 271 THOMAS DUBAY Review /or Religious priests seem to lack time for preparation; therefore, they either read something or talk aimlessly. Often my private sp~tual reading benefits me more . That depends on the amount of time.you have and the amount the conference takes. Once a month seemed the accepted norm as it would be rather dii~cult to arrange ,most schedules for a weekly conference. A reasonable judgment on the most desirable frequency of spiritual conferences seems to me dependent on a number of conditions and distinctions. The first of the distinctions is that between the ideal and the real, between what is objectively the best and what is actually, obtainable. The first of the conditions is that the conferences be worthwhile, that they profit the sisters, that they be prepared and given by an interested, com-petent priest. I can see no point in boring a religious community with a mediocre conference that could be as .inspiringiy read from any ordinary book of spiritual reading, but I can see a great deal of point in enlightening a community with a theo-logically- based, strongly motivating series of conferences. The second distinction lies in the amount of training the sisters have had in theology and Sacred Scripture. If a particular group of religious have perhaps the equivalent of thirty to forty hours of college-level religion to their credit, they obviously stand in less need of frequent conferences than another group with a highschool-level grasp of their faith. But, despite the progress initiated by the Sister Formation Conferences, there are few sisters today who have what we may call a thorough training in theology and Sacred Scripture. Our third distincl~ion bears on the amount of time available in the sisters' weekly schedules. Those schedules are admittedly jam-packed already. Why pack them more tightly? I carry no brief for jamming schedules, but I do carry one for the thesis that the first reason a girl becomes a religious is to further and hasten her personal sanctification. Hence, ! would curtail some of the vocal prayers and works of the apostolate so that she may engage sufficiently in those spiritual exercises that are most effecti-~e in nourishing her interior life of prayer and love. If these distinctions be properly drawn, I think it follows that a good spiritual conference once a week is not too much for the typical community of religious. But it may be too much for the typical priest. ~n_d. here is where I think the real problem lies. The priest with time on his hands is a rare ~creature these 272 September, 1960 SPIRITUAL CONFERENCES days. So, perhaps,, we need not look for a leisure laden con-ference master. He may not be the type the sisters need, anyway. An old dictum has it that when you want something done, yo.u should ask a busy man to do it. Superiors, therefore, should search long and hard . . . until they find. For their part priests should be generous when religious call for conferences. While it happens that a particular priest simply cannot take on any more extra work, yet before he reaches that decision he should reflect that he can hardly do anything better with his time than to devote at least some of it to consecrated souls. After priests themselves, who are closer to the heart of Christ than our sisters and brothers ? Availability of Competent Priests Intimately tied up with the problem of the frequency of spir!tual conferences is the supply of priests able and willing to give enlightened explanations of matters spiritual. To this point the sisters returned over and over again: It is not so easy to get priests for monthly conferences . There are only diocesan priests at a' convenient distance and they i]nd it burden-some to take care o~ this more than twice a year . Sisters go from one retreat to another without a single conference. I~ only priests would o~er to give us a share in their knowledge of things spiritual. We hesi-tate asking them because o~ their pleading o~ "inability". Should not priests be trained for it (conference giving) and made available?. I think we badly need these conferences, but unless they are given by priests interested in sisters and also well prepared in ~their subiects they will not be very helpful . This depends on the priest giving them. My check (once a week) presupposes a priest who is really interested in the spiritual' welfare o~ those to whom he gives the conferences, assuredly not one who regards the giving o~ :them just an added Chore in his busy li~e . I highly approve o~ the conferences, but in many cases the priest appointed makes it a terrible thing to sit through, because he isn't too anxious to give the conference himsel~ . This, too, depends upon the speaker. I~ he is good- once a week. I~ he reads from a book- "not at all" would suit me . It depends on the person giving the conferences. Some might just as well be read from a spiritual book . I would say once a week i~ there were time. I would want a competent. priest- not just one who happened to be locally available and who might not be the best spiritual advisor for sisters . Retreat and :conferehce masters should have something helD~ul to oiler and not expect the Holy (~host to do it all for them. I'hope this is not blasphemous or heretical. I do believe in the work o~ the Holy Spirit, but the one through whom 273 THOMAS DUBAY Review for Religious He speaks should ~e as good an instrument as possible. Communities should rather say they have no one than send one who merely keeps us on a chair for a required time. Forgive And we could cite more. Yet, at the same time there is some-thing to be said for the poor conference master. He is often a man already heavily burdened with his ordinary work (as the sisters realize), and perhaps cannot put all the time he would like in preparing his message. At other times he simply is not cut out for work with religious. His grasp of the principles of the interior life is quite adequate for most of his work with the laity, but it may not be deep enough or. understanding enough for the sisters' needs. And there is not much that we can do about that. Individual priests, .how.ever, can and ought to per-fect their knowledge of the finer points of the spiritual life and its applications to those living under the vows of religion. They should remember that a tremendous degree of glory is given to God by raising one ordinarily good soul to higher de-grees of sanctity and that our sisters are almost without .ex-ception eager recipients of whatever will help them to love God more. Subjects for Spiritual Conferences As we might expect, there is a wide variety of opinion as to what type of subject matter is most desirable for spiritual conferences to religious. While I do not think this is the kind of prQblem that ought to be solved by the counting up of opinions, I do believe that the sisters' preferences are surely worth noting. Among the religious who participated in our study we can distinguish almost three equally strong types of prefer-ence. One wished the spiritual conference to center .chiefly on the explanation of Sacred Scripture. The second group preferred " the subject matter to deal with dogmatic and moral theology. The third section was content with ascetical and mystical theology together with the ordinary retreat meditation topics. It is hardly needful to point out that these three preferences are hardly mutually exclusive. A solid explanation of Sacred Scripture cannot avoid theology, whether, it be dogmatic, ascetical, or moral. Nor can the latter be treated properly with-out generous references to the word of God contained in the sacred writings. In comment on their preferences the sisters had the following points to make. 274 September, 1960 SPIRITUAL CONFERENCES I think the above list is important and greatly needed by us, but for practical purposes a series of conferences on the supernatural life, our in-corporation in Christ, the mystical body would help us rise .above the materialism in which we live. Perhaps we need the theological and scrip-tural treatment first, but I do know we need to have our hearts warmed as well as our heads enlightened in order to live to the full the wonder- ¯ fulness of our vocation . The Church has developed a wonderful plan for our sanctificatio~ in her seasons and feasts. Very few priests help us to follow it . This depends on each separate community whose i~dividual approach to sanctity emphasizes different aspects. The knowl-edge o.~ dogmatic ~ind moral theology is essential for nuns; and ff it cannot be gained by any other means, the monthly conference should be used for that purpose . Certainly not always the same .subjects, please! . . . As teachers we'd like something we can use ourselves and something we can present to others . I am particularly interested in learning how to get the most out of the New Testament . Not only can we use Sacred Scripture in our daffy lives, but it becomes easier to pass on to our pupils and those with whom we come in contact . (I would like an) explanation o'f mystical prayer and our call to it as members of the mystical body of Christ. Too many have warped ideas on the word, mysticism, and associate it with visions, locutions, and such. An additional subject for a conference I'd like to suggest is: scandal, known and unknown, that we religious are a source of to the laity. Example: careless genuflection, sign of the cross, worldliness in our speech, reading, manners, and so forth . Using the same subjects as retreat meditations could be a means of keeping alive throughout the year the contents of the annual ~'etreat . Nlost sisters would like Sacred Scripture applied. You have to know your audience. If they walk in the way of mystical prayer, the finer points would be welcome. I think the majority would not receive enough benefit from dogmatic and moral theology unless they have a background in it. Father, many sisters lead deeply spiritual lives and we are not so interested in your learning as such, as we are in knowing that you firmly live and believe your doctrine . This is the real need for American sisters- a weekly doctrinal or theological sermon to give us depth, so that we will make meaningful and significant contributions to the apostolate in Which we work. Upon reading this collection of variant opinions a priest might well say to himself that he is bound to displease some-body no matter on what subject he may speak. But it is con-versely true that he is also bound to please somebody! As I indicated above, I do not feel that this problem of conference subject matter is to be decided by a spiritualized Gallup poll. Rather, I think that once grasping the sisters' needs as they 275 THOMAS DUBAY Review ]or Religious see them, each conference master must decide for himself what will do his audience the most spiritual good. His decision, how-ever, should be reached under the double light of this particular community (its background, needs, spirituality, and so on) and his own particular talents. The former of these two points is clear; the latter demands a word of comment. Just as th~ frequency of conferences is conditioned by the availability of priests, so is the subject matter of those con-fei- ences conditioned by the comPetency of the master. Not every priest can give enlightened conferences on dogmatic or moral theology, on .asceticism or mysticism, or on Sacred Scrip-ture. And a,~riest who is competent in one of these fields is not by that fact alone competent in the others. But here we are speaking Of the ideal. Practically, religious will have for the most part to 'be content, with something less. than the expert, andthat something less will usually suffice aft long as the priest prepare his conferences carefully. It seems to me that the ideal spirit~ual conference is free from the two extremes of the merely exhortatory and of the classroom lecture. Although a few of the sisters seemed in their observations to envision the conference as a kind of class in dogmatic or moral theology, I personally do not believe that such is its main purpose. While a good conference will aid a sister in teaching its subject matter in her classroom, the prime purpose of that conference is not her professional preparation but her spiritual development in love for God. The motivating and exhortatory elements, therefore, may not be neglected. And yet the spiritual conference should be built around a strong core of theology that delves more deeply into revelation than would a conference given to novices. An apparently simple subject such as humility should not be treated in the same way for a. group of mature religious as it is for a class of novices. For older religious a conference on humility should include some of the virtue's finer points together with a discussion of the more subtle manifestations of pride that arise with, age, responsibility, accomplishment, recognition and perhaps fame. Mature religious ordinariIy should not .be given the same kind of primer material°that they have already received at the dawn of their consecrated lives. For them~ too, repetition is boring. One item more. In their comments on ~the subject matter and frequency of spiritual conferences, a number of the sisters 276 September, 1960 SPIRITUAL CONFERENCES expressed the view that a series of conferences progressively building upon one theme is preferable to a change of subject from talk to talk. A series of conferences on one subiect is more profitable, I think, than a complete new subject each time. This is my individual thought . I would like a particular theme or topic for each year, following a pattern like The Three Ages of the Interior Life by Garrigou-Lagrange- one conference built on the preceding one, for example . (I would like) conferences given on a rein-eat day and following a set plan for the year . Would like to have the conferences develop a topic from week to week rather than just give superfidial "smatterings." Lecturer must be able to inspire confidence that he knows his subject . I would like all of these (subiects) included but a planned .program for the spiritual conferences and every spiritual conference, regardless of topic; made prac-tical but not sacrificing depth for practicality. ". My community has conferences monthly. When properly organized by the priest who gives them (save us from haphazard work!) they could be of great value weekly. With these opinions I concur, but I do not think that we need make any iron-bound rule about the matter, nor do I think the sisters intended such. On occasion it may be helpful to include a conference on a topic not dealing with the current series material. Miscellaneous Observations Although the point may seem obvious, it may not be useless to observe that the priest chosen to give conferences to a religious community ought not to be their ordinary confessor, perhaps no confessor of theirs at all. Our reason for noting this point is not that there is a danger that he may reveal con-fessional matter, but rather that he may seem to be referring to something he has heard in the sacred tribunal, when actually he is saying something in conference that he would have surely said in any event. This possibility of seeming to touch upon confessional matters can be most uncomfortable for the priest and perhaps also for an individual hearer. It can be easily dis-posed of by separating the two offices of confessor and conference .master. At least two of the sisters in their written comments sug-gested that the priest give his listeners an bpportunity to ask questions. Said one of the sisters:~ "If these (conferences) could be given some place other than the chapel so that the 277 THOMAS DUBAY sisters could ask questions and make comments, I think more .good would be accomplished. Give the sisters an outline of the topics to be covered with some references. Allow them to ask questions and make it a learning situation rather than a passive and sleeping situation." This idea, I think, is a good one. But if I may judge from past experience in conducting question periods with religious women during conference time, the priest may have some difficulty in getting the sisters to ask questions. Unfortunately, I think the sisters at times fear that their questions may appear foo.lish, and so they prefer to remain silent. This fear is ill-founded in my opinion, for I have found both their questions and their observations intelligent and thought provoking. We need not insist on the point that once the ice has been broken and the sisters are discussing freely, there is no problem in getting them .to continue talking! Understandably~ enough, the sisters laid considerable em-phasis on the choice of an optimum time of the day and the week for the spiritual conference : They should be given sometime ,when we have time to think about them afterwards; for example, Saturday night Or Sunday, not on a school day. . . Please don't give them at the time of the day ~vhen the sisters are exhausted after a more than full day of work and prayer . Once a week would be excellent, if you aren't too loaded down with teaching activities. It's hard to appreciate a confer.ence when you have no idea when your lessons are to be prepared . Speaking as one on a mission, if the daily schedule were not too heavy, once a week would be fine and then it could substitute for some parish service. The last remark is especially worthwhile. If it is agreed that faith comes through hearing and that, as a consequence, the spiritual conference is of central importance for a religious' growth in love for God, it would seem to follow that other less needed a~tivities and exercises be curtailed or omitted in order to make time available. This problem can be solved by superiors alone. The difficulties involved in securing for religious commu-nities regular, frequent, and sound spiritual conferences are admittedly knotty ones; and we do not suppose that in the limited confines of this article we have solved them. Suitable solutions, I think, can be reached in the concrete only by some original thinking on the part of superiors and by a spirit of sacrifice on the i~ar~ of ?.)riests invited to participate in this noble task. 278 Prayer and Action Columban Browning, C. P. with the ever-increasing needs of the Church, a question comes to the fore that is very crucial. The question concerns the relative merits and importance of two essential elements of the religious life, prayer and action. Much has been written and many discussions held on this subject. The general tenor of most of the books and articles written about it is familiar enough. We are reminded repeatedly that the first obligation of every religious is to be closely united with God, or to be a saint. With this unquestiofiable fact as a point of emphasis, we are forcefully reminded that our apostolic work is only secondary. Those who write such books and articles invariably cite the well known text from St. John of the Cross: "An instant of pure love is more precious in the eyes of God and to the soul and more profitable to the Church tha~ all other good works put together." (Spiritual Canticle, Stanza 28). No one can question such a position. If we were to deny that the perfect love of God is the goal of every soul,, all else would of necessity fall with it. But unfortunately we are left with the impression that the active life is an obstacle to holiness and that therefore we must undertake it with many misgivings. As a result we may be led to believe that the terms primary and secondary end of the religious life should be translated as helpful and harmful. It is regrettable that so many religious have a faulty under-standing of the relative place of prayer and action in the life they live for God. And false attitudes in this as in all things can cause untold conflict and harm. In. this matter we are dealing with two elements that are essential to religious living; accord-ingly they can and must be harmonized. The Importance of Prayer Of the two things that we are considering, prayer and union With God is unquestionably first in importance. A re-ligious whose heart and soul are not centered on God is a mis-guided soul and hardly a good religious. Such a one is failing The Reverend Columban Browning is stationed at Saint Gabriel Monastery, 1100 63rd Street, Des Moines 11, Iowa. 279 COLUMBAN BROWNING Review for Religious in his own basic purpose in life and is hardly qualified to lead others to Him. The desire to make God the center of one's Own heart is then a basic necessity. The reasonsfor this are very evident : 1) The basic need for prayer and union with God flows primarily from the fact that we are creatures of God, made by His hands for His own glory. As creatures of God we are totally dependant upon Him. All that we have has come from Him as must every grace that we hope for in the future. He has made us to know, love, and serve Him in this world in order that we might be happy with Him in heaven. Our life without God is meaningless, and to seek anything apart from God's will is to rob Him of His glory. Our desire .to lead others to God must flow from the realization that they are made for the same purpose and that God has a right to their love and service. It is very evident then, that the most basic reason why. we must seek God first in our own personal life is because we are creatures of His and as such are totally dependent upon - Him. 2) The second reason why prayer and union with God must come first in the life of a religious comes from the °nature of the Christian and religious life. The Christian life itself, of which the religious life is but the perfection, is an entirely su-pernatural life. At baptism we were lifted out of the realm of mere creatures of God and became His childrhn. This wonderful transformation came about through the infusion of the precious life of sanctifying grace in our soul. At that moment our life ceased to be merely natural and becameentirely supernatural. By our religious vocation we have been called to live that supernatural life more fully. And what else is a supernatural life but a life centered on God? The goal, then, of the re.ligious is evidently to bring his soul to unfold more and more to God. This is another way of saying that he is called to a life of prayer and union with God. 3) The third reason why prayer is so important in the life of a religious is an extrinsic one. It is the spirit of the world in which he lives and works. Even in our Lord's time He warned about possible contamination by the spirit of the world. That spirit in our own day is all the more worldly and therefore an even greater threat to fidelity to God. The religious of today is surrounded by that worldly spirit and .is exposed to 280 September, 1960 PRAYER AND ACTION its influence daily. Granting that the love and service of God is the foremost duty of the religious, it follows of necessity that he must devote himself all the more earnestly to a life of prayer and union with God if he is to stay above the allurements of this world. We see then the vital importance of prayer in the life of a religioug, seeing that he is a creature of God; called to the perfection of the supernatural life, and this in a milieu that is not always the most favorable. The Importance of Apostolic Activity But to stress the need for prayer is not to deny the neces-sity and value of apostolic activity. The basic need for such work is also easy to demonstrate from a number of reasons: 1) Let us point out first the general need that human beings must.work in some way. By disobeying Godl our first parents lost the privileges that God had conferred upon them in the beginning. Among the penalties imposed upon them was the duty of laboring by the sweat of their brow. None of the descendants of Adam and Eve is exempt from this penalty for sin. The religious, sublime though his vocation is, is not exempt from the law of labor, not even cloistered contemplative re-ligious. Plus XII in one of his allocutions urged this duty in a special way on the members of cloistered communities. Cer-tainly the same duty rests all the more on. those called to active communities. The nature of the work the religious does may differ from that of people in the world. But the duty re-mains as a direct consequence of original sin. 2) A second reason why work is necessary derives from the very union with God to which we are called. This point can best be made by quoting the great Thomistic commentator, Cajetan: "Let spiritual directors note this and let them see to it that their disciples are, first of all, exercised in the active life before proposing to them the heights of contemplation. One must, in fact, tame one's passions by habits of meekness, patience, etc. in order to be able, once the passions have been dominated, to rise to the contemplative life. In default of this previous exercise in asceticism, many who instead of walking rush along the ways of God, find themselves after having de-voted a great part of their lives to contemplation devoid of all the virtues, impatient, irritable, proud, if they are put to the least test. Such persons have neither an active nor a contempla- 281 COLUMBAN BROWNING Review for Religious tive life, nor the combination .of the two, but have rather built upon sand, and would to God that this were a rare blunder" (Commentary on the summa. Theologiae, 1-2, 182, 1). It is clear then that self discipline is necessary to achieve union with God and there is no means of discipline more constructive than that which is learned in apostolic work. 3) Our third reason for the importance of apostolic work is seen from the crying needs of the Church. in the modern world. Souls in need are there by the thousands. They are all created by God for His glory and they are in danger of being lost to Him forever. The work mus~ be done in so far as humanly possible, and ~what religious is so heartless as to face these great needs with indifference? In His providence, God intends that these neglected souls be saved by us who have been more privileged. To do the work demanded of us we must labor and suffer with Christ, seeking as our only reward the peace that comes from knowing that. souls are being helped. Such work done from the simple motive of serving God need not harm the life of prayer and recollection, which alone gives the work its direction and purpose. We do not mean to imply, of course, that prudence should be thrown to the w~nd.in our efforts to meet the crying needs of the .Church. Just because the work is there to be done does not mean thatsuperi0rs can drive their subjects to their death. Two simple principles must govern us in our approach to this work. They are: (1) health must be safeguarded lest our ability to work is abruptly ended with little accomplished, (2) the work must not be so intensive that no time is left for spiritual nourishment, without which the soul will dry up and die of starvation and thus put an end .to its usefulness in the service of God. But the fact that there are potential dangers does not derogate from the importance and the value of that work as such. Harmonizing Prayer and Action We are dealing with two things, both of which are es-sential elements in the service of God. There must be a life of prayer, else there will be no direction or purpose in the re-ligious life. There must also be work of s~me kind for the upbuilding of the mystical~body of Christ. This work may take on different forms depending upon the type of community to which one belongs. But without work of some kind, the life of 282 September, 196o PRAYER AND ACTION prayer itself will dry up and become barren. In active commu-nities work means absorption in many intense activities for the good of souls. The two elements, prayer and action, must never be looked upon as opposites that cannot possibly be reconciled. Admittedly, to balance the two without allowing either of them to suffer is a delicate art and cannot be achieved quickly. 'An amount of difficutly must be expected, .especially in the beginning. But the difficulties should ~not lead one to think that this balance is impossible. Persevering, patient effort is necessary. The religious will find himself at times concentrating on the one element to the detriment of the other. Many mistakes will be made. But through these very mistakes the soul will become gradually more humble and dependent upon God. And as this happens, he will become more attuned to God and peace and harmony will gradually come about. Perhaps the best key to success in attaining this harmony is in the proper attitude of mind. We must see both our life of prayer and our life of work as two aspects of the same thing- our faithful service of God. In both we must seek the same God and do so with the conviction that in both He can be found. When work is demanding, we should realize that we are working for God and tl~at He is pleased by our efforts, even though they may be fumbling efforts at times. Even if the work is of such an absorbing nature that we cannot be as directly attentive to God as we would like, we must not become .unduly disturbed but humbly and simply do the work for God. On the other hand, when it is time for prayer We should not worry and fret over the work that must be neglected but rather realize that without our prayer we will not be prepared to do the work as it should be done -- for the love of God. The religious must keep in mind the purpose of his voca-tion. It is a .call to seek God with all his heart. This means that in all things he must seek God and that in all things God can be found. He must pray with all his heart and. keep God in the center of his own life. But he must also work with all his energy that he might, lead as many others as possible to love and serve the same God that he loves. The more sincerely and earnestly he pursues both these aspects of his life and directs them both to God, the closer will he come to realizing the purpose of his vocation. 283 La Sallian Prayer for Active Religious Brother F. Joseph, F. S. C. S T. JOHN Baptist de la Salle, founder of the Brothers of the Christian Schools, wrote for his community a manual of mental prayer called Explication de la mdthode ¯ d'oraison. The Method, as we have it in the text of 1739, is notable for at least two reasons. First, it is a method written for an apostolically oriented community. "The Institute of the l~rothers of the Christian Schools is a Society in which pro-fession is made of keeping schools gratuitously.''1 And: "The end of this institute is to give a Christian education to chil-dren . . . ''~ To attain this end, St. La Salle taught his brothers that they had to be men whose speculative and operative faith was to be so strong as to become the prime characteristic of their society. He assigned as the spirit of the institute a spirit of faith and zeal, without which the individual members would lack the vital principle designed to make them valid brothe~s. He described the spirit of faith as: ". a spirit of faith, which should induce those who compose it not to look upon anything but with the eyes of faith, not to do anything but in view of God, and to attribute all to God . . .,,a In other words, the spirit which all the brothers were urged to attain was an attitude of soul which focused their attention away from them-selves and on God. The saint's norm, it will be noted, is a complete one: "not to look upon anything, to att~:ibute all." Its very completeness demands explanation, Obviously, the founder realized that such perfection of supernatural intention is not always achieved in practice and that therefore this prescription of the rule was to be regarded as an ideal always to be striven 1Common Rules and Constitutions of the Brothers o.[ the Christian Schools (Rome: Mother House, 1947), Chapter I, article 1. Referred to hereafter as C. R. ~C./~., Ch. I, a. 4. sC. R., Ch. II, a. 1. Brother F. Joseph is presently teaching at La Salle College, Anselm Hall, Philadelphia 17, Pennsylvania. 284 LA SALLIAN PRAYER for. But because it was an ideal, it enjoyed the privilege of the ideal: to be recalled so frequently that eventually it would become a fixed principle of action, a real final cause determining at least the majority of the human acts of the soul. But the attaining of a God-centered principle of activity like this is not easy. What is involved is a complete conversion of values. The soul must cease to live on a superficial level to descend deeply into reality where Infinite Truth and Infinite Good can exercise their proper control over the decisions of the individual. Again, the soul must cease to act for itself and begin' to act for another ;, and only one who has experienced how deeply the roots of ego-directed .activity plunge into the being of himself will realize the tensions created in a man who wants to purify himself of self. If the intention directing the. p,~rifica-tion is anything short of the attaining of. God's love, the purification must inevitably fail because the intention motivating it still stands within the area to be purified: I want to purify myself so that I can be better. And even if the intention is fixed rigidly on God, the man will still not completely cleanse himself of self, mainly because the last shreds of self-regard are so inextricably entangled, with one's metaphysical self that the only one who can do the untangling is the one who thorough: ly understands that self- God. In short, the man who desires to attain Infinite Good would be wise to deliver himself up to Infinite Truth as. quickly as he can. Otherwise he may find himself in a labyrinth of self-induced ac.~ivity with little or no chance of escape into the light he desires so much. St. La Salle wanted his brothers, to desire God. and His will. But he knew that such a desire had to penetrate deeply into the soul-fiber of each brother before it could become his dis-tinguishing characteristic. And he also knew that the desire would become effective not because his men. had intellects, wills~ and imaginations capable of engendering such a desire; they' hadn't, not~ only because his first brothe~s were anything but ¯ intellectual giants, but chiefly because no man, of. himself, could ~'.~Jroduce the kind of.attitude St. La Salle wasadumbrating. He knelt ~l~t the brothers ' would become God-centered. only if. God. did most of the maneu~cering and the brothers had the sense, ¯ to continue saying "Yes" to God's activity upon. their souls. Therefore, their proper Work was to prepare themselves for God by becoming aware that He is, what He is, and how He 285:. BROTHER F. JOSEPH Review far Religious operates. But St. La Salle, whose knowledge of religious orders ¯ and their external works was extensive, realized that that awareness could, not depend on ,the pervasive kind of God-consciousness that permeates contemplative monasteries where everything tends to lead the soul directly to contact with God. His brothers were to work in a milieu where much would h~ppen to make them lose that awareness- a classroom teetering on the brouhaha that the youngster of the seventeenth-century French slum could concoct with startling suddenness. St. La Salle did all he could to bring the monastery atmosphere into the classroom; he caused the main staple of the classroom prayer to be the hourly and half-hourly recalling of the holy presence of God to all in the room, and he had the rooms decorated with the crucifix and holy pictures. But he also knew that such measures were essentially dependent projections of something more profound and necessary, just as, analogously, the various parts of the Office recited during the day in the monastery were dependent for their full strength upon the com-munal Mass from which the Office radiated. The profound, necessary foundation upon which all the other attentions to God during the day rested was, in St. La Salle's scheme, mental prayer. "The Brothers of this Insti-tute should have a great love for the holy exercise of mental prayer, and they should look upon it as the first and principal of their daily exercises, and one which is the most capable of drawing down the blessing of God on all the others.''4 The reason for the choice is not hard to see. The two half-hours of mental prayer each day that St. La Salle legislated for his brothers were designed specifically to give the brothers training in the awareness of God and the self-dedication to His interests that constituted the essence of their lives. St. La Salle's whole method of prayer was merely a descant on the basic concept: to do all for God, to attribute all to God. He divided his method into three basic parts: the placing of oneself in the presence of God, the dedicating of oneself to the subject of the day, and the reviewing and the thanking God for the graces received. But he made clear to the brothers that the most important part of the prayer was in confronting God in the first part and then staying before Him for all the rest of ~C. Ro, Ch. IV, a. 1. 286 Sep$e~nber, 1960 LA SALLIAN PRAYER the half-hour. The second part of the method was not to be thought of as merely an exercise of the intellect or the imagi-nation; he did not want the body of the prayer to be a compo-sition of place nor a presentation to the will, by the intellect, of divided and subdivided reasons for acting out the conse-quences of some virtue. What he wanted the second part to be was quite simple: another leap into the supernatural world similar to the first part in that it brought the brother face to face with divinity; and different from the first part in that the particular person most often confronted was Christ, but Christ really as a person spoken to, lived with, contemplated, not merely thought about. This sense of otherness that the saintdemanded cannot be overstressed; he wanted his religious to use the mental prayer time almost exclusively for one purpose--to become God-conscious through personal experience of God, because without that conc.entrated attention to God in the morning and evening the brothers could be almost certain that they would not find God in the more diffused activities of the day. And, because the brothers were to spend so much time in those other activ-ities, one can see why the founder wanted them to pay such close attention to God in mental prayer. The prayer was to give them much of what they needed to make the day super-naturally fruitful for themselves and their boys, not by becom-ing a sort of bank upon which the religious could draw as the day proceeded, but by being a seed, pregnant with a life which would blossom and fructify through and by means of the work of the day. Thus, the teaching or the administration or the housework each brother engaged in could become, a vital super-natural experience, a carrying out of God's will, a meeting of the human will with the divine it was destined to be united to. And if he did allow the work to begin in prayer, the work would eventually become' one of the prayer's greatest sources of strength: he had to pray to make his work, which was his life, successful. All one has to read to see how highly St. La Salle regarded the work of the brothers is the following: "You have exercises of piety specially intended to help you towards your own sanctification, it is true, but if you are really zealous for the salvation of your pupils, you will not fail, even in these, to direct your intention towards this end. Thus you will draw down the graces needed to contribute efficaciously to 287 BROTHER F. JOSEPH Review for Religious the salvation of your pupils, and God himself will take care .of your own.''~ We can see, therefore, that St. La Salle's method of prayer was directed towards an apostolically-oriented community. The second consideration I wish to develop is that the M~thode was composed primarily for the novices of the congregation, but not only for them. The primary purpose explains the minutely-segmented series of acts that compose the method: in the first part the method prescribes placing oneself in the presence of God and then m~iking acts of faith, adoration~ and thanksgiving for that presence; acts of humility, confusion, and contrition because of that presence; and acts of application of the merits of Christ, of union with Him, and of impetration for His spirit, in preparation for the second part; the second part prescribes placing before oneself a mystery of Christ, or one of His virtues or His sayings, and then making, before Christ and in union with Him, acts of faith, adoration, thanksgiving for His revelation of divinity through the .mystery, virtue, or saying; acts of confusion, and contrition, because one has not yet com-pletely profited by Christ's work, and an act of application by which one resolves in a definite way to apply Christ's spirit to oneself; an act of union with the special spirit of Christ as He lived the mystery or virtue or saying about which one has been praying; an act of petition for the spirit, and an act of invoca-tion of the saints so that the spirit will be given; and the third part of mental prayer prescribes a rapid review of all .that. had been done during the half-hour, a thanksgiving for the graces received, an act of offering of the prayer and of oneself, and finally an invocation to the Blessed Virgin, possibly the 0 Domina Mea. Even the most harebrained novice should have been able to keep himself occupied with a method that detailed for him almost twenty-five things to be done in thirty minutes. The novice-directed motivation of the Method explains also why the saint actually composed specimen acts for each of the divisions of °the prayer. The book, therefore, in its English edition: consumes 163 pages and is an invaluable introduction to the apostolic, God-centered prayer that St. La Salle desired his brothers to foster. aW. J. Ba~tersby, ed. and tr., De La Salle: Meditations (London: Longmans, Green and .Company, 1953), p. 35. Italics added. 288 September, 1960 LA SALLIAN PRAYER But the Method was not composed only for novices. Certain features Of the book indicate that St. La Salle had no desire to keep his brothers everlastingly making minute-and-a-half acts (or less) so that each morning they could render self-conscious congratulations to themselves that "Yes, I finished my mental prayer today." The founder knew mystical theology both speculatively and experimentally too well to assume that a religious with five or fifteen or fifty years of prayer behind him will be as delighted with so segmented a system of prayer as a flighty novice would be. Therefore he built into his system several types of freedom. For example, he tells his brothers: "We should mention, in reference to our application to the holy presence of God, that we should not dwell on it only for a short time, because it is the exercise that helps, more than any other to procure the spirit of mental prayer and our interior application thereto. We should therefore apply our mind to the presence of God to the exclusion of every other subject, until we find that any further application would be neither easy nor even possible.''6 And he is known to have advised at least one brother not to be afraid to spend a whole year or two on just the first part of mental prayer because, after all, such was the whole purpose of the prayer: to get oneself before God and to stay there. Again, the saint devotes towards the end of the book several pages to outlining five ways of abbreviating the acts so that they do not hamper the freedom of the soul: he tells the brothers they can use fewer words for each act than hE himself had used in the Method; or they can condense in one act the interior spirit of all the others; or they can make just an act of faith in the presence of God and another of adoration, and then omit all the other acts of the first part; or they can spread the acts of the second part over several meditations or concentrate heavily on one act and devote just a few words to all the others; or, very significantly: "When in the course of the exercise, we feel piously inclined to dwell on some sentiment or train of thought which we had not de-cided on beforehand, such as the love of God . . . we should sSt. John Baptist de la Salle, Explanation of the Method of Mental Prayer, translated from the French edition of 1739 (Paris: Procure Gdn~rale, 1912), p. 36. Referred to hereafter as Explanation. The reader is referred to the critical edition of the same work in French: Explication de la Mdthode d'Oraison, texte de 1739, Edition Critique, ed. Fr~re Emile Lett (Paris: Ligel, 1957). 289 BROTHER F. JOSEPH Review for Religious follow this inclination or any similar one, according to the. di-rection of the Holy Spirit, through a sentiment of faith and with a view to acquiring the perfection of our state of life. It is advisable to pursue this train of thought for as long as God is pleased to maintain our interest in the subject, this being a token of his approval.''7 In other words, Ubi Spiri~us Domini, libertas. The Spirit breathes where He wills, and the brothers would be wise to heed Him. But perhaps most significantly for the prayer's freedom is the tripartite division that runs throughout the entire method. St. La Salle~says that each one of the acts can be made in one of three different ways: through multiplied reflections, that is, through the use of many words, many considerations, so that the brother is in almost constant activity manufacturing his acts; or by few but long-continued reflections, about which more will be said below; and by simple attention, in which the brother suspends all words to rest in a simple view of faith concerning, say, God's presence, for a. quarter of an hour or more. St. La Salle regards the simple attention to God as the type of prayer which the experienced religious should cultivate; but he also realizes that it is a prayer which depends heavily on a free gift from God: "There are many souls so interiorly free, so detached from all created things, that God bestows on them this great grace, that they never lose, or only very rarely, the sense of His holy presence; a favour which gives them in this world a foretaste of the happiness of the Blessed in heaven.''8 For those readers experienced enough to be at this stage of prayer, this article has nothing whatever to say. But .for those who tend to ignore the wide gap between the prayer of the beginner which is almost all activity and the prayer of the advanced which is almost all passivity (or perhaps more accurately, almost all active receptivity), perhaps St. La Salle's ideas about his second method might prove helpful. He writes: "An easier means [than using many reflections] of penetrating ourselves with the presence of God in an interior manner is to recall a passage of Holy Scripture referring to the divine presence. We then make a reflection on. this passage, without much reasoning, for this weakens our faith ~E~planation, p. 141. SEzplana~ion, p. 32. 290 September, 1960 LA SALLIAN PRAYER and makes the .conception of the divine presence less vivid and real.''9 He explains the procedure in more detail: "We may make, for instance, the following reflection on this passage: ['I set the Lord always in my sight'] 'that it is a singular p~'ivilege to have the mind filled with the idea of God's holy presence, and that the practice of such an exercise gives a foretaste of the happiness of heaven.' We then dwell simply, and for as long as possible, on the passage of Scripture from this point of view.''1° He warns: "In these reflective processes, we must not allow the mind to be overcome by fatigue, as often happens to beginners; which may result in a dislike for mental prayer. When we find that our attention is no longer held by the first reflection, we should substitute another, which, supply-ing us with a fresh point of view and reawakening our affec-tions, enables us all the more readily to assimilate the truth contained in the passage of Holy Scripture.'.'11 He says again: "When we acquire a certain facility in making reflections on these acts, we should contrive to. use fewer words in the reflec-tions, and remain for some time in an interior silence, in order to let the reflection penetrate our mind in a more interior manner. For the abundance of interior words in mental prayer rather dissipates the mind instead of bringing the soul nearer to God and promoting interior recollection.''~ In other words, the saint desires to lead his brothers away eventually from a prayer in which they are manufacturing words incessantly, because he wants them to become sensitively aware of the movements of the Holy Spirit. But such sensitivity is difficult in a soul given to constant internal chatter. St. La Salle would like his men to be able to enter chapel and .to settle down immediately to a half-hour of simple attention to God; such is the goal he establishes for them. But he also wisely arranges the intermediate steps preparatory to contem-plative prayer. The steps are found in the continually lengthen-ing periods of attentive silence he desires in the second kind of prayer. The silence effects two things simultaneously: it, of necessity, restricts the feverish search for words that tires the religious who has gone over the same ground too frequently in "Explanation, p. 29. 1°Explanation, pp. 29-30. ~Explanation, p. 30. l'~Explana~ion, p. 46. 291 BROTHER F. JOSEPH Review far Religious the past, so frequently that at times he finds himself reciting an incremental formula that once had been mental prayer but which nov¢ has descended dangerously close to jargon; and the silence settles the soul before God and Christ so that the soul can begin to experience them here on earth .in a way analogous to the way it will experience them in heaven. Obviously the fact that St. La Salle is working here with analogy must be respected. But the other fact of the metaphysical linking between faith and vision must be respected, too. In short, St. La Salle's desire that his brothers recognize in their prayer a type of apprentice-ship for heaven rests on something more than a thin metaphor. It rests on the doctrine that between grace and glory exists a continuum. Concerning the advantages of the quiet attentiveness to God that the prayer fosters, St. La Salle writes: "It [the soul] is gradually absorbed with this tought of the privilege of the divine presence, and is still in touch with the subject of the passage taken from Holy S~ripture, which, being based on faith, enables the mind to realize more vividly the central truth, and helps us to adore it in God, and as the word of God with more fervour and earnestness.''13 Again: "These few words: 'My God, being constantly in Thy holy presence, how could I dare to say or do anything which should displease Thee?' these few words well impressed on the mind will produce a vivid attention to the truth expressed by them, which remaining deeply en-graved in our soul will easily recur again and again; and should this not happen, the serious attention given to the thought will leave behind it, in the soul, such a divine unction, such an attraction towards God, and such a horror of sin and for every-thing displeasing to God, that such a soul will easily have God in view, and always, hold sin in abomination. Thus it will gradually accustom itself to relish God and the things that bring it nearer to Him, and to relish them only in so far as they lead to Him, without looking at any attraction they may have of their own.''14 Such a prayer is a boon to busy religious. Prevented by their years of prayer from ~'eturning to the" delightful novelties they experienced in the novitiate, they are confronted by two laExplanation, p. 30. 14Explanation, pp. 46-47. 292 Sept~ember, 1960 LA SALLIAN PRAYER choices: to settle down to no prayer or to such desultory re-hashing of predigested convictions that almost no spiritual nourishment is possible; or to progress further upon the road of prayer by learning the liberating truth that they don't have to try to keep doing what they can't do. They don't have, to keep talking. They can select a passage from Scripture; on it they can formulate a short sentence of faith or adoration or of any other sentiment, and then they can keep quiet for as long as they remain attentive to at least the general drift of what they have proposed to themselves. Obviously, St. La Salle is not suggesting inactivity; what he is suggesting is an activity of attention to a pregnant silence inhabited by God and all His mysteries. And that is indescribably far away from a half-hour spent in a sleepy contemplation of nothing. The busy religious has to keep praying. In fact, because his work demands it, he should be praying more fervently and meaningfully than he ever did in the novitiate. But too often he is stagnating, not because his will is bad, but because he does not know what to do: St. La Salle, in this prayer, counsels him what to do: to keep progressing by means of a prayer that maintains its identifying character from day to day because of the active reception of God's imPulses and that provides for man's psychological hunger for variety by providing that each day the second part of prayer be dedicated to different mys-teries, virtues, or sayings of our Lord. Perhaps, God willing, the religious who gives himself generously to the method of simple, few reflections might find himself more quickly than he could expect at the prayer of simple attention. Stranger things have happened. Whoever outdid God in generosity ? 293 Survey of Roman Documents R. F. Smith, S. J. IN THIS article will be given a summary.of the documents which appeaied in Acta Apostolicae Sedis (AAS) during April and May, 1960. Throughout the survey page references will be to the 1960 AAS (v. 59.). The Roman Synod In the issues of AAS under consideration in this sur~,ey, the ma~or portion of the pages was devoted to the Roman Synod which was held from January 24 to January 31, 1960. At the opening of the Synod on January 24, 1960 (pp. 180-90), the Holy Father gave an introductory allocution in which he emphasized the importance of ecumenical, pro-vincial, and diocesan convocations in the history of the Church. After listing the eigh~ general topics to be considered during the duration of the Roman Synod, he concluded his allocution with a warm plea for prayers for the success of the Synod. The Priesthood The Synod held three sessions of deliberation; and at each of the sessions the Vicar of Christ delivered an allocution, each of which was devoted to some aspect of the priesthood. At the first session, on January 25, 1960 (pp. 201-11), John XXIII's general topic was the sanctity that a priest should possess. He began by noting that the person of the priest is sacred; he is made such by the rite of ordination, since the primary and principal task entrusted to the priest demands that he offer him-self as an immaculate host for the carrying out. of the redemption of the World. Furthermore the dignity of the priest is increased by the power he possesses to forgive sins. But this priestly Sel~-offering and this exercise of mercy is more pleasing to God when the priest is innocent and free from all sin. An agreeable personality, knowledge, polished speech, urbanity, and the like are the sign of a priest's human dignity; but his supernatural dignity must come from the altar he serves. In turn the priest must be such that he may lead the faitl~ul to think of Christ. Accordingly a priest must be holy; as one doctor of the Church has put it, "Christ is the great tunic of priests," since the ministers of Christ should be c9mpletely penetrated and informed by the sanctity of Christ. The Pope continued by suggesting to his listeners that they meditate the words of the twelve-year old Christ: "Did you not know 294 ROMAN DOCUMENTS that I must be about my Father's business?" (Lk 2:49). He also recom-mended the reading and studying of Chapter 12 of the Gospel of St. Luke, for it could rightly be entitled "On the training of the disciples and the people." Then the Pontiff reflected on the Epistle to the Romans read in the Office of the season, telling the members of the Synod that the first part of the Epistle should lead them to a great trust in their vocation since they have been called by the justice of God to be con-formed to His Son. And the second part of the same Epistle teaches them to avoid all vice and to work for the edification of their neighbor. In the second session of the Synod, on January 26, 1960 (pp.221-30), His Holiness discussed the virtues of head, heart, and tongue that a priest must possess. First of all, he stated, a priest must have knowledge and correct judgment. Hence he must study both before and after ordination and even up to the last days of his life. Secondly, the heart of a priest must be aflame with love. This love is first of all a love for Christ that will make the exercise of priestly piety a pleasure. It is this love, the Holy Father said, that is the perennial source of a priest's courage and comfort in the difficulties of his life. Secondly, he must possess a love for the Church and for souls. This love for souls must extend to a.ll, but especially to sinners and to the poor of all kinds. Although, the Pope continued, a priest is calledto an angelic life, his heart remains flesh and is not freed from the temptations of the flesh. At this point he expressed his sorrow at the reports that he has received of the scandal given by some priests whose hearts have become worldly. He also repre-hended the mistaken notion of some that the Church will judge it opportune to desist from the law of that ecclesiastical celibacy which in the course of centuries has been and is the outstanding ornament of the priesthood. Finally, the priest must be able to control his tongue; and the Pope did not hesitate to say that the priest who knows when to be silent and when to speak is a man adorned with a perfect and absolute priestly-virtue. The words of St. James on the evils of the tongue, he remarked, could well be committed to memory and engraved on the walls of the houses of ecclesiastical men. On January 27, 1960, at the third synodal session (pp. 240-51) the Pope spoke about the pastoral duties of priests. A priest, he said, is supposed to carry out the work of redemption; hence he must imitate Christ who said of Himself: "I am the good shepherd." Priests in Rome, he continued, have a double responsibility: one of direct pastoral work for souls and one of indirect pastoral work in the administration of Church affairs in the Roman curia. But they must be careful, he told them, not to let themselves become involved in secular things. For the Roman clergy must face the sobering fact that in Rome at present there is only one priest engaged in direct pastoral work f~)r every 3,300 of the faithful. Hence he implored all the priests of Rome to devote themselves 295 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious fully to their direct or indirect pastoral work and to avoid all secular activities. Ecclesiastical Students and Religious Women On January 28, 1960 (pp. 262-70), the Holy Father delivered an allocution to the ecclesiastical students of Rome so that they might also share in the fruits of the Synod. After applying to them the story of Gideon as given in Judges,. The Vicar of Christ proposed three points for their consideration. The first was that they should be worthy of their vocation, and he assured them that the lofty dignity of the priesthood requires of them the most spotless kind of life. This life, he said, means that they must fill their minds with knowledge, maintain an innocence of life that is free from worldly pursuits, acquire prudence in their actions, and act towards others with kindliness. Secondly, he said, they must know and love Scripture; and in .this regard he quoted to them the phrase of Apocalypse 10:9, "Take the book and' devour it." In Scripture, he insisted, the students \viii find the will of God for the con-duct of a fruitful ministry as ~vell as the norms for a safer and better development of their spiritual life. Finally, he encouraged them in the practice of constant prayer, telling them that it must become the food of their souls and the protection of their spiritual lives. He concluded by telling them that the Psalms should prove a great source of prayer for them; and he urged them to a careful study and meditation of individual psalms. As part of the synodal activity, the Holy Father also addressed the religious women of Rome, speaking to them on January 29, 1960 (pp. 278-84). Basing his allocution on a verse at the end of Chapter 8 of Book III of the Imitation of Christ, he centered his allocution around four major points. The first point was that of detachment h'om creatures. The first characteristic, he said, of the religious life is the ready and ioyful farewell to the things of the world in order to consecrate oneself to God in perfect virginity of heart. This virginity, he told his listeners, opens the heartto the truest, greatest, and most universal love which exists on this earth; for a religious has chosen a celestial Spouse and her field of work is the entire Church. It is this love which expresses itself in the religious' tender and gentle exercise of the various works of mercy. Because virginity can not long maintain itself if a solid formation is lacking, the H~ly Father turned next to a consideration of the strength of character necessary in religious women. This is a question, he. said, of an. interior strength which fosters humility, generates mildness, and leads to obedience, that sure school of strong, souls. This same strength, he assured the religious, will secure the pede.ct equilibrium of intellect, will, and sensibility; and it will form that ideal of a strong woman which Scripture (Prov. 31:10) proposes as a rare ~treasure. A strong soul, he 296 Septdmber, 1960 ROMAN DOCUMENTS added, Will never become a victim of sadness, for it is a sign of perfect virginity to serve God and souls without thinking of self. In the third part of the allocution, the Pontiff remarked that the ideal which he had traced can not be attained in a .few weeks; rather it must be asked for from God through insistent and faithful prayer. Hence, he continued, religious have a great need for constant prayer. This prayer, he said, springs from a serene conscience; prayer from such a conscience, he added, will be pure prayer: a listening to God, a speaking to God, a silence in God. As the Cure of Ars put it, a pure soul is present to God as a child to its mother. In the fourth part of the allocution, the Vicar of Christ told his listeners that the life he had outlined for them in the foregoing parts would, open up to them a truly celestial life. He concluded by urging his listeners to love the cross and by expressing th~ hope that the cross might become for them a source of strength, an inspiration for prayer, and the secret of peace. Conclusion of the Synod On January 31, 1960, there was held the solemn .conclusion of the Synod, at which the Holy Father delivered one last allocution (pp. 285- 96). In the allocution he assured the people of Rome that the Synod had been a great manifestation of spiritual vigor and that the chief fruits of the Synod should be an increased exercise of a strong faith which is eager to propagate itself, of an unconquered hope which spurns the prevalent error that man's only paradise is to be on earth, and of a generous charity which is ready to put down its life for others. He also spoke of his hopes for the coming ecumenical council, and concluded by recommending three forms of piety: devotion to the Name, the Heart, and the Blood of Christ. After this allocution Archbishop (now Cardinal) Traglia expressed to the Holy Father the gratitude of the Roman clergy and people for the Synod (pp. 307-8). In reply (pp. 308-9) the Pope gave thanks to God for the success of the Synod and expressed his appreciation of those who had worked for the successful conclusion of the Synod. The Synod was then solemnly closed. At the end of the account of the Synod, AAS noted that the statutes of the Synod would be published later and separately. The Consistory On March 28 and 31, 1960, were held three consistories for the elevation of nine new cardinals. In the first and secret consistory of March 28, 1960 (pp. 321-32), Cardinal Micara was made Camerario of the Sacred College, succeeding" Cardinal Tisserant in this office. After-wards John XXIII delivered an allocution to the assembled cardinals in which he nbted the continuing persecution of the Church in certain parts of the world. He also adverted to the successful completion of the 297 R. F. SMITH Review far Religious Roman Synod and stated that plans for the coming ecumenical council were proceeding satisfactorily. He also asserted that the nihe cardinals to be made' in this consistory would enlarge the Sacred Collegn geo-graphically as weI[ as numer~cal[y; such an enlargement, he said, would be an illustration of the text: "Going into the entire world, preach the gospel to every creature" (Mk 16:15). A~ter the alldcution the Pope then created eight cardinals of the order of priest and one of the order of deacon. Thereafter hierarchical appointments since the last consistory were read off; the Cardinals con-sidered the canonization causeof Blessed John de Ribera; and the Con-sistory was terminated with postulations for the pallium. The second and public consistory was held on March 31, 1960 (pp. 339.-34). At this consistory the Pope placed the red hat on the new cardinals and asked the opinion of the Cardinals on the canonization of Blessed John de Ribera. On the same day the third and secret con-sistory was held (pp. 334-35). At this consistory the most recent h~er-arcbJcal appointments were announced and the new cardinals were as-signed their churches in Rome. Liturgical Matters On March 21, 1960 (pp. 355-56), the Holy Office responded to the question as to whether recent documents of Eucharistic discipline (Christus Dominus of January 6, 1953; the Monltum of Marcia 22, 1955; and Sacram Communionem of March 19, 1957) had abrogated the pro-vision of canon 867, paragraph 4, where if is stated that the distribution of Holy Communion outside of the hours when Mass can be. said is forbidden, unless, a reasonable cause exists. In reply the Holy Office said that the new legislation had not abrogated the paragr~iph in question, but that, given the mitigations in the Eucharistic fast, reasonable causes would occur with greater difficulty. However, since such causes can not be excluded and since evening Masses are not always and everywhere po.ssible, the document gives local ordinaries the power to permit the afternoon distribution of Communion at some function other than Mass. Such a permission can be granted .to both parochial and non-parochial churches as well as to the oratories in hospitals, prisons, and colleges. .On March 9, 1960 (p." 360), a decree of the Sacred Congregation of Rites stated that the Leonine prayers usually said after low Masses may be omitted in the following cases: (1) a~ter a nuptial Mass and after a Mass said on the occasion of first Communion, a general Com-munion, a confirmation, ordination, or religious profession; .(2) when another function or pious exercise immediately follows the Mass; (3) when a homily is had during the Mass; (4) when on Sundays and feast-days a dialogue Mass is had. The decree also gives local ordinaries the power to permit the recitation of the Leonine prayers in the vernacular according to a text to be approved by themselves. 298 September', 1960 ROMAN DOCUMENTS The same Congregation also announced the inclusion of a new prayer in the prayers of thanksgiving a/ter Mass of the Roman Missal. The text of the prayer, its place in the Missal, and the indulgences attached to its recital are given on pages 257-58 of this issue of the REWEW. Miscellaneous Matters On March 25, 1960 (pp. 344-49), the Holy Father addressed the superiors general of religious institutes of men and women. The subject of his talk was that of the religious difficulties of Latin America. He called for a coordination of all the energies of the Church for the sake of .greater efllcacy in. meeting the challenge of Latin .America. He asked that as many persons as possible be sent to Latin America, saying that the future of the. Church in Latin America is rich in promise, but the harvest needs priests, religious men and women, and an ardent laity. On April 10, 1960 (pp. 339-43), the Holy Father delivered a homily based on the liturgy of Palm Sunday. The day, he said, recalls the certain and peaceful triumph of Christ in innocent and good souls; how-ever, it also recalls that Christ's. procession of palms was the beginning of His journey to crucifixion. Accordingly he expressed the profound sorrow that. fills his heart at the continued and terrible persecution of the Church of Silence. On March 22, 1960 (pp. 343-44), the Pontiff addressed the Inter-national Committee of the Neutrality of Medicine, lauding their efforts to limit the terrible effects of armed conflict. On April 12, 1960 (pp. 352-53), he spoke to the memberi of the Committee of Public Health of the Western European Union, remarking on the great importance of the topics .they were currently studying. On April 2, 1960 (pp. 349-50), John XXIII gave an allocution to members of the International Association of the Sport Press. He noted the importance of sport in the world today and remarked that the widespread practice of sport on Sundays need not conflict with the religious duties of thht day; in. fact, he remarked, it is conformed to .the divine law that after man has given God what is His, he should seek a legitimate recreation for his body and soul. He advised his listeners to give sport its exact place in the scale of human values as a useful instrument in the complete and harmonious, develop-ment of the personality. But its importance should 'not be exaggerated nor should attention be placed only on physical values. Under the date of February 9, 1960 (pp. 353-54), the Vicar of Christ sent a written message to the hierarchy of the United States on the annual Laetare Sunday collection for charity. By the apostolic letter, Diuturno usu, of February 2,' 1960 (p. 338),. Pope John created an apostolic internuntiature in Turkey. On April 11, 1960 (p. 351), he de-livered an allocution welcoming the first ambassador of Turkey to the Holy S~e. 299 Views, News, Previews T HE UNION of Women Major Superiors of France has published a volume listing as many as possible of the institutes of religious women that exist in France. The volume is entitled Annuaire des Instituts de Religieuses en France (Handbook of the Institutes of Re-ligious Wora~n in France) and was published at Paris in 1959 by the Centre de Documentation Sacerdotale. The institutes are given in alpha-betical order; for ea6h institute the following Lrfformation is provided: purpose of the institute, its type of spirituality, its canonical status, its organ!zation and government, its plan of formation, its principal activities, a select bibliography of the institute; and a list of addresses of the institute's principal houses. At the end are given three long appendices. The first of these gives an alphabetical list of associations and pious unions for women in France and for each provides much the same in-formation as for religious institutes. The second appendix lists all the institutes aecord!ng to their canonical status of religious order, pontifical congregation, diocesan congregation, pontifical secular institute, diocesan secular institute, or association and pious union. The final appendix lists all the institutes and associations in terms of their principal work. The Annuaire described above was modeled on a similar work, Dictionnaire des Institutes de ReIigieux en Franc~ (Dictionary of the Institutes of Religious. Men in France); the Dictionary, which was pub-lished in 1957, lists the religious institutes of men alphabetically and gives the same information for each as the Handbook does for women's institutes. Both the Handbook and the Dictionary may be purchased from the following address: Centre de Documentation Sacerdotale 19, rue de Varenne Paris 7, France At the beginning of 1960 a new ascetical quarterly began publica-tion. Entitled Revista Agustiniana de Espiritualidad, it intends to provide its readers with an insight into the spirit and religious dimensions of St. Augustine. The magazine costs $1.80 a year and may be ordered from: Revista' Agustinian.a de Espiritualidad Avenida de la Estaci6n, 11 Calahorra (Lggrofio) Spain Another ascetical magazine will begin publication in January, 1961. Its title is to be The Way and it will be published by English Jesuits. 300 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS The aim of The Way will be to help priests, religious, and lay folk in English-speaking countries to a better understanding of the interior life in the modem world and against the background of Scripture and the Liturgy. The new quarterly will cost $5.00 a year; all subscriptions must be sent direct to the following address: The Way 31 Farm Street London, W 1 England Questions and Answers The following questions and answers are a continuation of the series on local houses and local superiors which was begun in the March, 1960, issue of the REWEW. 36. Our religious college is, erecting a new building, which will not be completed for a year and a half. Will the Holy See grant a dispensation for the.local superior to have a third immediate three-year term? This local superior planned the building and is the only one who is completely conversant with all the details of this work. Yes. For serious reasons, for example, the completion of the erection of a building, the Holy See will grant a dispensation and permit a religious to govern the same house for more than six successive years. In extra-ordinary circumstances, such as war, when local superiors cannot be changed, the law ceases to oblige; and a local ~uperior may validly and licitly govern the same house for more than. two full three-year terms. 37. Our congregation of sisters has one college. The local superior is also president of the college. It is evidently not easy to find a com-petent religious for this post every six years. What is your solution of this evident and, I believe, common problem of religious institutes? Canon 505 imposes a temporary tenure of office on the superior of the religious community as such, that is, under the aspect of the one who governs the community in its religious life. That this is the sense of the law is. evident from the fact that the canon is universal and thus includes houses also of contemplative congregat?ions. The same sense is dear from the reply of the Code Commission, June 3, 1918, which states that the limitations of canon 505 apply to religious at the head of works of the institute "having other religious under their authority also as regards religious discipline" (Bouscaren, Canon Law Digest, I, 275). The canon therefore is in no way opposed to permanence in the one who is ~t the head of the external work~ of the house, for example, principles, deans, presidents of colleges and universities, administrators of hospitals, and so forth. Perman6nce is at 301 ~UESTION~ AND ANSWERS Review ]or Religious least very often desirable in these officials, for example, because of the difficulty and complexity of the office, the wonderment-caused to extems by the apparently ~ormalistic change of competent officials, the lack of other qualified religious, and especially because the amount and nature of the work of such officials often make it simply impossible for them to give sufficient attention, time, and energy to the government of th~ reli-gious community. It is also true in some cases that even an outstanding official of this type is not a good religious superior. Religious institutes should therefore study more carefully the separation of such offices from that of local superior, especially in the cases of presidents of dolleges and universities and administrators of hospitals. This difficulty is habitual, not occasional. Therefore, it is not solved by the opinion of some authors who recommend a petition for a dispensation in such cases. Furthermore, this would maintain the same .superior over the religious life of the community beyond the time permitted by canon 505; and experience proves that this is at least ordinarily not a good thing. Cf. REWEW FOa KELmIOUS, 10 (1951), 197. 38. Is the term of a local superior computed in the same way as tl~e canonical year of noviceship, thus ending on the day after the an-niversary day (January 10, 1960 - January 11, 1963); or does it end on the anniversary day, as in the case of temporary profession (January i0, 1960 - January 10, 1963)? The duration of a term of office is computed in the same way as tem-porary profession and thus according to the norm of canon 34, § 3, 5°, that is, a three-year term begun on January 10, 1960, expires on January 10, 1963. If the superior has not been reappointed nor his successor ap-pointed, the term expires at midnight of January 10-11, 1963. The term may also be computed from chapter to chapter, even if the subsequent chapter is not held on the same day, when the local superiors are elected in a general or provincial chapter, which is practically never done in lay congregations, or are appointed immediately after such a chapter, as is done in a very small number of such congregations. A few constitutions enac( that a superiorship expiring within the school year is automatically prolonged until the end of the school term. Some institutes automatically prolong the term of local superiors expiring after the convocation of the general chapter until after the close of this or the provincial chapter. The duration of other offices is also computed in the same way. For example, if a superior general is elected for a six-year term on August 1. 1960, the next election is to take place at any hour on August 1, 1966. If the election does not take place on the latter date, his term of office expires at midnight of August 1-2, 1966. Cf. Van Hove: III De Consuetu-dine, De Supputatione Temporis, n. 314; Vermeersch-Creusen, Epitome Iuris Canonici, I, n. 149; Larraona, Commentarium Pro Religiosis, 7 (1926), 380; Goyeneche, Quaestiones Canonicae, I, 137. 302 September, 1960 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Unless the constitutions, customs, or usage states otherwise, the term of office begins more probably on the date of the document of appoint-ment rather than on the day when the religious actually assumes the office. The constitutions of lay congregations usually enact that the term begins and that of the predecessor ends on the day the religious assumes office or, what is the same thing, on which the letter of his appointment is read to the community he is to govern. Only a very small number of constitu-tions declare that the term begins to run from the date of the letter of appointment. 39. A religious was appointed local superior. He was engaged in summer work that delayed his assumption of the office for three weeks beyond the expiration of the term of the former local superior. Who was the superior of the community during these three weeks? The constitutions usually sta~e that a superior, on the expiration of his term, continues to govern the community until his own reappointment or the appointment of his successor is effective. This may also be e~tablished by the custom or usage of the institute. Otherwise, and even if this power is not explicitly granted in the constitutions, the competent higher superior, for a proportionate reason, may extend the term for a brief period until the reappointment or appointment is effective. In these cases, the former local superior governs Under the title of vicar. If neither of these methods of prolongation is verified, the government of the community passes to the local assistant. This is the better opinion, because the term of the former superior has expired and was not prolonged. However, Creusen holds that the local superior always continues to govern the community in such a case (Religious Men and Women in Church Law, n. 67). This opinion may be followed, because it is in conformity with the practice of the Holy See in approving constitutions. The prolongation of the term of the former superior or the tenure of the local assistant as vicar should not be prolonged be-yond six monks after the vacancy of the office, that is, after the expiration of the term. This is the prescription of canon 155 for offices in the strict sense, which from analogy should be applied also to offices in lay institutes. 40. During my tenure of office, it has happened on more than one occasion that a local superior got sick, for example, he was hospitalized for one to three months. In such cases, do I, the. immediate higher superior, have the power to name an acting local superior? The constitutions of lay institutes practically always enact that the assistanti under the title of vicar, is to assume the office of ~uperior, whether general, provincial, or local, when the offices becomes vacant or the superior, because of sickness, absence, or other reasons, is unable to exercise the office. Since these constitutions determine the substitute, higher superiors may not ordinarily appoint another religious as vicar or acting superior in such circumstances. They may do this for an extraordinary reason, for example, when the assistant does not possess the health or 303 ~UESTION~ AND ANSWERS Review ]or Religious capability to govern. They may also do it if such a power is expressly given them in the constitutions. Some constitution.s of lay congregations explicitly state that the competent higher superior may always appoint a religious of his own choice at least as local vicar or local acting superior. They may ob~,iousIy do this also when the constitutions do not specify that the assistant is to assume the government in such circumstances. Cf. Goyeneche, Quaestiones Canonicae, I, 146:49. 41. What is the duration of the term and the permissible reappoint-meitt of the religious in charge of a filial house? Canon law has no enactment on the term of office or immediate re-appointment of the religious in charge of a filial house. Therefore, it apper-tains to the constitutions to enact whether he is appointed for a determined term, which may be less or more than three years, for no determined term, and to what extent he may be immediately reappointed or for how long he may continuously govern the same filial house. The constitUtions of lay institutes rarely contain any legislation on this point, and the whole. matter is therefore determined by custom, usage, or the will of the higher superior. Several authors follow Vermersch in stating it to be the mind of the Holy See that the same religious should not have this office in the same filial house for more than three successive three-year terms or more than nine consecutive years. This is at least a solid practical norm, but it has by no means been included in all constitutions approved by the Holy See that mentioh filial houses. Vermeersch, Periodica, 17 (1928), 90*. 42. Because of his 'poor health, the novice master must be removed. May we appoint to this post a religious who is now a local superior and who has not completed his present term of office? Yes. It is a principle of law that a superior or official who has been appointed for a determined period of time may not be removed or trans-ferred before the expiration of that period unless for a just and serious reason (el. c. 560). Such reasons are poor health, the need of the religious in another important post, his'serious incompetency, bad example, and excessive severity or weakness. The post of a novice master is evidently important and justifies the removal of a local superior before the expira-tion of his "term: ' .43. Do appointed superiors and officials have the right of resigning their office? From the law of their constitutions, custom, or usage, the more com-mon practice in lay institutes is that an appointed superior or official, for example, a provincial or local superior, may not resign his office but has only the common right of representation, that is, of giving reasons for being relieved of his office. Some constitutions expressly grant provincial and local superiors the right of resigning. If resignation is neither granted nor excluded in the law or usage of the institute,, a superior has the right of resignation (c. 184). It is forbidden to make or accept a resignation with- 304 September, 1960 BOOK REVIEWS out a iust and proportionate reason (cc. 184; 189, § 1). Since the com-petent higher superior may reject as insufficient the reasons given for a resignation, a resignation will in fact not differ from the right of represen-tation described above. Many constitutions of Dominican sisters enact that a local superior who is habitually prevented from fulfilling the common exercises because of ill health is to resign her office, if there is no hope of recovery within six months. If she does not resign, she is to be removed from ofllce. The authority competent for the transfer, removal, or accept-ance of the resignation of a local superior is ordinarily the superior general with the consent of his council, after a request by the provincial with the same vote of his council. Some constitutions give this right to the latter with the consent of his Council, but the act must be confirmed by the superior general with the same vote of his council. 44. Our constitutions state merely that the local superior has the authority to govern his house. What exactly is the authority of a local superior? A local superior is not a mere delegate of a higher superior and possessed only of the authority that the latter delegates to him. The reli-gious at the head of a filial house is a mere delegate (cf. Question 6). In virtue of canons 501, § 1, and 502, the superior of a canonically erected house possesses ordinary authority, that is, authority conferred by canon law and the constitutions. He therefore has full authority to govern his house except for matters reserved to higher authorities (Holy See,' local ordinaries, general chapter, higher superiors), that demand any type of recourse to these (dispensation, confirmationl consent, advice), or that require the consent or advice of his council. The local superior should maintain close contact with higher superiors, especially his immediate higher superior, and consult them on all matters that are unusually serious, difficult, or important. He should also consult his council on more important matters, even when the code or the constitutions do not prescribe con-sultation on the individual matter. Book Reviews [Material for this department should be sent to the Book Review Editor, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana.] THE CHURCH IN THE THEOLOGY OF ST. PAUL. By Lucien Cerfaux. Translated by Geoffrey Webb and Adrian Walker. New York: Herder and Herder, 1959. Pp. 419. $6.50. Cerfaux says in his introduction: "The object of'the present study is the notion of the Church in Paul's theology, rather than its historical realization in his time. Thus I shall not give a great deal of space to discussing questions connected with the Church's organization, the aposto- 305 BOOK REVIEWS Review ]or Religious late, the sacraments, etc. All I propose to offer is an essay in Pauline theology, aiming at the underlying synthesis of the epistles. Paul's theology grew out of Judaism and primitive Christianity." Cerfaux's point that Paul's theology developed is so important that it may be considered cardinal. In view of this, the three books into which this volume is divided are based upon three different sources. Book I considers how Paul integrated into his theology many Old .Testament expressions origin-ally applied to the nation of Israel and how he applied these to the community of Christians. These expressions determined the direction of primitive ecclesiology, particularly St. Paul's. Book II, using "Christian Experience" as found in the major epistles (Galatians, 1 and 2 C~r-inthians, Romans) as its source, studies Paul's theology of the Church. as developed by the time of their completion. Book III studies Paul's theology as it reached its final stage of development, the "Idealized Church" as found in the captivity epistles .(Philippians, Ephesians, Colos-sian~, Philemon) with emphasis on Ephesians and Colossians. In his study of the origin anal development of Pauline expressions, Cerfaux shows that "God's people," a Jewish idea, is basic to Paul's theology of the Church. The community of Christians are "God's new people." This community is the ekklesia (church), a wsrd whose meaning also evolved. It did not have th~ same meaning for Paul in the major epistles as it had in the captivity epistles. At first he used it for local churches. "In the first letter to the Corinthians, it was tending to become disconnected from the local churches." Only in the captivity epistles, and especially in' the "mystery" texts, can we say that Paul sometimes clearly means the universal Church when he writes ekklesia. Only in these epistles does he develop the idea that the Church is not only terrestrial, but also a "celestial thing," the heavenly bride of Christ. Nor do we find the texts for the doctrine that the Church is the mystical body of Christ until the captivity epistles~ A prominent place is ~iven to the discussion of the phrase "body of Christ," which passed through a transition from the physical sense of the word to a collective sense. In the major epistles "the. body of Christ" refers to the earthly body of Christ with which Christ suffered and died for us, now present in the Eucharist as a bond of unity for . Christianity. In the captivity epistles "the body of Christ" refers first to the risen body of Christ as it is in heaven, the source of sanctifi-cation for all Christians, and, second, to the "body" of Christians who compose the Church, which is "an extension of Christ." The relation of the physical body of Christ to the Church, the "body" 'of Christ, is that of mystical identity. Other important themes discussed are: Christ as "head of the Church," an expression which Paul used to describe Christ's influence on Christians; the "mystery of Christ," which has a. two-fold interest: cosmic, Christ's domination over the universe, and oecumenical, the unity of Jewish and gentile Christians in Christ. This is not a work of popularization, but will be of special interest to those making scientific studies of the Church. Such scholars will find the many references to Sacred Scripture and direct quotations from the Greek text useful. Other aids to the scholar ar~ the bibliography, 3O6 September, 1960 BOOK REVIEWS index of all biblical references, author and subject indices. Short sum-maries and particularly the excelleht eight-page general synopsis found at the end of the book are also helpful. It may be that some readers will be disappointed to find no use made of the pastoral epistles in understanding Paul's developing syn-thesis concerning the Church. Since Christian experience is the touch-stone throughout Cerfaux's treatment, the experience manifested in the pastorals would seem necessary for a complete synthesis. Sections where the. author is explaining rather than proving often supply insights that ~vill delight any Christian, for example where the author gives Paul's thoughts on the unity of Christians through the Eucharist. These will come as a welcome relief to the ordinary reader, for whom the rather complex arguments may be difficult to grasp. However, even fbr one who is not studying theology on the professional level, the book has much to offer. Such a reader can deepen his spiritual life by learning more about the Church and the Pauline fdundations for saying that the Church is the mystical body of Christ. I~CZ~aD J. MmDENDOI~', S.J. PROCEEDINGS OF .THE 1958 SISTERS INSTITUTE OF SPIRITUAL-ITY. Edited by Joseph E. Haley, C.S.C. Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1959. Pp. 315. $4.00. Under the sub-title of "The Role of Authority in the Adaptation of the Religious Community for the Apostolate," seven lecturers (besides two members of the hierarchy) examine as many aspects of the current, pressing problems that face our American sisterhoods in their efforts to meet the rising demands for their services in the .Church's apostolate, while¯ maintaining a steady balance between the obligations of personal sanctity and the duties of Christian charity. Bishop Shehan of Bridgeport s~t the tone for the institute by pointing up the grave crisis' in Latin America where, he felt, religious women from the States are offered¯the chance to duplicate their achievement in this count~:y. In his closing address, Bishop Marling, C.PP.S., of Jefferson City emphasized the need that religious have to keep their eyes fixed on their founder if they would avoid extremes on the side of immutability or adaptability, as they undertake the delicate task of adjusting themselves to the pressures of the modern world. Between these two addresses were three principal studies of the problem, sociologically by Joseph H. Fichter, S.J., ascetically by Lou
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Review for Religious - Issue 22.2 (March 1963)
Issue 22.2 of the Review for Religious, 1963. ; EVODE BEAUCAMP, O.F.M. Sin and the Bible Throughout1 the New Testament the work of Christ is presented as a victory over sin. To speak of sin in this connection is to evoke an agelong experience which is highly complex and which can not be neglected if one wishes to comprehend the matter in all its extent and fullness. The word sin is a familiar one to us; yet it is no older than the Greek of the Septuagint. Before the Sep-tuagint there can not be found in the sacred text a single word exactly corresponding to it. The Alexandrian trans-lator has included under this single word the varying nuances of a number of terms; through this word he has thereby evoked all the forms which were taken through the course of centuries by the resistance of Israel to the salvific activity of God. There can be no question of giving here a study of sin in the Bible; for that is a problem entirely too large. We shall simply mark out the essential lines in order that we might have a better understanding of the problem of sin and that as a consequence we may be able to provide a catechetical presentation of sin that will be more richly nourished by the vitality of the Bible. The God of the Bible ancl the Problem o] Good anti Evil Like all the surroundin~ peoples, Israel united into one word evil and unhappiness on the one hand, goodness and happiness on the other. The first of these words is simultaneously disorder, deceit, emptiness, and death; the second is virtue, fullness of life, and peace. Every deed carries within itsel~ its own consequences: evil in-volves unhappiness while goodness implies happiness: Do no evil, and evil will not overtake you; avoid wickedness, and it will turn aside from you. Sow not in the furrows of in-justice, lest you harvest it sevenfold (Sir 7:1-3). Moreover, one finds in the Bible different ways of ex-pressing the same proverb: This article is translated with permission from the magazine Catdchistes, n. 49 (January 1, 1962), pp. 5-19. The magazine is pub-lished by Procure des Frhres; 78, rue de Shvres; Paris 7, France. 4. 4. Evode Beaucamp O.F.M., a Scripture scholar, lives at Via di Decima Kin. I; Rome, Italy. VOLUME 22, 1965 129 4. 4. ÷ Erode Beaucnmp, O.I~.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 130 Those who conceive malice bring forth emptiness; they give birth to failure (Jb 15:35). They sowed the wind, and they shall reap the whirlwind (Hos 8:7). What is original in the Bible is the teaching that good-ness, physical as well as moral, has only one source: God. "O Lord," cries the Psalmist, "thou art my welfare; there is none beside thee." And for Amos the two expressions "to seek God" and "to seek the good" are perfectly identi-cal; both the one and the other offer the secret of life (Amos 5:4-14). The successful issue of human existence is found on the way which Yahweh points out and only there: For this reason will all go well with us, because we obeyed the voice of our God (Jer 42:6). You must keep his commands., that you may prosper, and your children after you, and that you may live long . (Dt 4:40). You must do what is right and good in the sight of the Lord that you may prosper (Dr 6:18; see also 12:25 and 28). The Law given by Yahweh to His people is the way of happiness: "You must keep my laws and ordinances, by the observance of which man shall find life (Lv 18:5).'° This is a point which is important to remember when the idea of the Law is presented; the love of the Jews for the Torah is incomprehensible if it is not realized that Yah-weh is legislator precisely insofar as He is father, bene-factor, shepherd, and defender of His people. Moreover, this throws light on the well-known problem of reward. The Bible does not say that happiness is received as a recompense for goodness but that happiness is the fruit of goodness and that it is to be found at the end of the way. Evil is not treated in the same way as is goodness; the God of the Bible never attributes to Himself a paternir.y with regard to evil. For the Psalmists, evil is the absence of God; and it is towards Him that one must turn to be freed from it. Nevertheless, it is in relationship to God that evil is defined: evil is the reverse of what He wills, of the course of :action that He teaches. As the author of Chapters Three and Four of Genesis has carefully sho~qn, the evils which weigh on humanity are not imputable to the Creator; the responsibility falls on man who has at-tempted to find his happiness outside of God, to flee his dependence on Yahweh by himself possessing the key of good and evil. Man has set himself on the desperate route that leads far from Paradise: Woe to them that have wandered away from reel (Hos O Lord, thou hope of Israel, all who forsake you shall be put to shame; those who prove faithless to you in the land shall be brought to confusion, because they have forsaken the Lord, the fountain of living water (Jer 17:13). Let us remark in passing that the God of the Bible never reproaches man for his thirst for greatness and happiness; what is reproached is the attempt to satisfy this outside of God. Unlikei the gods of Surher and Baby-lon, Yahweh has the intention of giving His creature the fullness of life and happiness, but He teaches that this must be done by Him: If my people would but listen to me, if Israel would only walk in my ways, I would quickly humble their foes . he would be fed with the finest of the wheat; and with honey from the rock would I satisfy you (Ps 81:13-14, 16). Although man punishes himself by separating himself from God (see Jb 22:3 ft.), the Bible, nevertheless, does not hesitate to show us Yahweh personally intervening to punish with all the power of His anger. It is He who hardens the pharaoh, as it is He who brings evil upon His unfaithful people: I am watching over them for evil and not for good (Jet 44:27). I will set my eye upon them for evil, and not for good (Amos It is curious to observe how the inspired writers can com-plain both that Yahweh hides His face and remains dis-tant from His chosen ones (Ps 88:14) and that He turns His face against them (Jer 44:11): "The face of the Lord has scattered them; he no longer regards them" (Lain 4:16). And some of the sacred writers are heard to cry out: Will you never take your eye off me, nor let me alone till I swallow my saliva? (Jb 7:19). Turn your gaze away from me, that I may be glad (Ps 39:13). Yahweh never ceases to assert His exclusive right to bestow good on His chosen ones even when they turn away from Him to their own loss. In the evils which then beset them, there can always, be detected the avenging pursuit of a cheated love: So I will be unto them like a lion; or like a leopard by the road I will lurk. I will rend them like a bear robbed of its cubs; and I will tear off the covering of their heart (Hos 13:7-8). Pursued by the love he has denied, the sinner sees him-self abandoned by all: "Thou has put friend and com-panion far from me" (Ps 88:18). He is abandoned even by the earth which bears and nourishes him: I am bringing upon them a disaster which they shall not be able to escape (Jet 11:11). I will rend and be gone; I will carry off, with none to rescue (Hos 5:14). Sin VOLUME 22, 1963 13! + + + Evode Beaucamp, O.F.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Behold, I am going to make a groaning under you (Amos 2:13). Unlike the Egyptian god Aten, Yahweh is not indif. ferent when He distributes life and happiness. His gifts are always made from a personal and jealous love. Hence He can not but react vigorously when man prefers deceit, nothingness, and ruin to His love. The blows which He deals as well as His tragic silence can lead the wanderer back to the road of return: I withdraw to my own place, until they realize their guilt and seek my face, searching for me in their distress (Hos 5:15). And yet it is necessary that this appeal be heard and followed: It was I that gave you cleanness of teeth in all your cities . it was I that withheld from you the rain, three months before the harvest . I laid waste your gardens and your vineyards . I sent a pestilence like that of Egypt among you . But you did not return to me (Amos 4:6-10). When sin is presented as disobedience to the Law of God, it is necessary to realize that this Law is the path marked out by God and leading to life and happiness; to disobey it is to wish to conduct one's life by oneself and to run towards one's own ruin. The God whose love has been scorned will not be content to let us leave; He will inexorably bar the way that leads to peace just as formerly He posted the cherubim with their swords of fire to pre-vent Adam and his descendants from access to the Para-dise that had been lost: They are a people who err in their hearts, and do not know my ways. So that I swore in my anger that they should not enter into my rest (Ps 95:10-11). The Special Demands o[ the Covenant The Bible is not satisfied with presenting man in con-frontation with God; for the Bible the heart of the matter is the elect one in confrontation with the God who has chosen him. The peace dreamt of by the Jews of old, peace between the members of. one community, peace with the external world and the earth where men liv~.~- this peace is the fruit of the covenant of Sinai (see Lv 26:3-13; Dt 11:13-15). From the viewpoint of the history of religions, one of the most original characteristics of this alliance is the tact that the initiative belongs exclusively to God and not at all to the people; it is Yahweh who has chosen Israel and not Israel who has chosen Yahweh. From the beginning to the end of the Bible, Yahweh repeatedly emphasizes the absolute liberty of His choice, a liberty that gives Him the right to demand obedience without reserve or mur-mur. The elect one should adjust his conduct to the direc- tives given by his God; he must seek that "which is right in the eyes of Yahweh"; he must "march perfectly before Him" without "swerving" from the way "either to the right or the left." Hence.the existence of Israel was constitute~ by the acceptance of these demands;~and these;demands were unceasingly renewed nor were they ever fully completed at any given moment of history. The more Israel, through a better understanding of the obligations of the covenant, wished to submit to them, the larger the number of them grew. In its always unsatisfied thirst to stay perfectly close to the divine will, the chosen people never ceased to develop the principles at the base of the Mosaic legis-lation of the Decalogue (Ex 20:3-17; Dt 5:6-21) and of the code of the covenant (Ex 20:22-26) into the different priestly codes and the enormous growths of the rabbinical tradition. Since there existed this demand for a perfection never perfectly attained ("You must be holy; for I, the Lord your God, am holy" fLy 19:2]; "Be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect" [Mt 5:48]), an exhaustive list of sins is nowhere to be found in the Bible; prophets, Psalmists, and wise men give us but certain ones among many. In every epoch and in all circumstances, the obli-gations of the covenant remain unlimited; the human party of the covenant never succeeds in rising to the level of the demands of the divine party. Basically, the sin of later Judaism will be to pretend to arrest this movement of divine improvement by attempting to imprison the divine will within the walls of a definitive and rigid tra-dition. There is no need to emphasize that the same dan-ger lies in wait for every spiritual life, that there will always be a tendency to substitute for the unlimited de-mands of Christian perfection a code of limited rules which each person can hope some day to fulfill com-pletely. The covenant not only implies the demands of a bond faithfully maintained between God and His people, but it also includes the demands of a union between the in-dividual members of this people. Yahweh expects that His people should practice among themselves the justice and mercy which He has bestowed on them. The pious Israelite must never forget to share his joy with the stranger, the orphan, the widow; for, as Deuteronomy puts it: "You must remember that you were once a slave yourself in Egypt" (Dt 16:12). For the same reason it is forbidden to retain one's brother in the state of slavery (Lv 25:55; Dt 15:15); nor ought one to treat a stranger with scorn (Lv 19:34; Dt 24:17). In this principle can be seen the first outline of the thought of the Master: "Love each other as I have loved you." ÷ ÷ ÷ Sin VOLUME 22, 1963 4. + Evode Beaucamp, O.F.M. REVIL~V FOR RELIGIOUS Hence it is that along with the infidelities of the people towards God, the absence of social justice appears as the chief accusation directed by Yahweh against Israel. From the beginning of prophetism (for example, with Elijah), the struggle is waged on two fronts: opposition to the introduction of foreign cults and the respect for the rights of the weak (Naboth's vineyard, 1 K 21). As the Lord Himself emphasized, the entire legislation of Israel re. volves around this double commandment: to love God with one's whole heart and one's neighbor as oneself. The same is to be found in the warnings of the prophets, the Psalmists, and the wise men: You have been told, O man, what is good and what the Lord requires of you'. Only. to do l'ustice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly wtth your God (Mi 6:8; see also Jer 7:5-11). It will not be useless to insist somewhat on this capital point; since we have too great a tendency to distinguish sins against God and sins against neighbor, it is necessary to show how every sin against God leads to injustice with regard to neighbor and how every sin against one's neigh-bor is a blow struck against the rights of God. The first chapters of Genesis in the Yahwist and priestly redac-tions already present evil under this double dimension. The murder of an innocent person follows the act by which Adam made himself independent of his Creator, while the union of the sons of gods with the daughters of men (probably an allusion to sacred prostitution) in-volves the unleashing of violence upon the earth. In a more general way, the Bible unites under the single He. brew word resha' the idea of both impiety and evil-doing, The person who so acts is frequently referred to through-out the Psaher; he is a person who intends to do without God and to live his life entirely by himself and who, in consequence, makes use of force, deceit, and lies: The fool says in his heart: There is no God. Such men are corrupt; they do abominable deeds; there is not one who does good (Ps 14:1; see also Ps 9; 10; 12; 52; 62; and so forth). His adversary and his victim is the just man, the man who expects salvation and justification from God alone and who therefore does not seek to take the law in his own hands nor do himself justice at the expense of others. The life of David furnishes an excellent illustration of these two cases of the evil man and the just man. Sens-ing that Yahweh would give to him the crown of Saul, David steadfastly refused to touch the sacred person of the king; for he intended to owe his royalty: to Yahweh alone and he did not wish to do things wrongly. Accord-ingly, through terrible execution or a no less terrible curse, he decisively disassociated himself from all those who wished to hasten the event by doing violence to Saul or his son or the general of his army (2 S 1:15; ~:28 ft.; 4:10 ft.). In contrast to the dynasties of, usurpers, the dynasty of David was not in its origin tainted by blood (2 K 2:5). But in the affair of Uriah, the king of Jerusalem took a completely opposite c#ur.se; here he acted,asian impious and evil person. Nathan" recalled to the guilty monarch everything that Yahweh had done for him and pointed out to him how He was still ready to do more. But David had lacked confidence; he had chosen to take care of him-sell and this he did at the expense of one of his own subjects. There is, then, no rejection of God which does not eventually turn into injustice, just as there is no in-justice which is not a disregard of the power of the God of :the covenant. For a Christian, to sin is not only to disobey the eternal laws of the Creator; it is also a refusal of the covenant and a scorning of the love of the Father of all. Human Resistance and God's Final Victory The covenant supposes a history; it is at the center of a plan that develops by stages. At each of these stages man tries to block the plan, but his actions do not prevent God from having the final word. It is interesting to follow step by step the resistances of those who were the bene-ficiaries of the covenant, for in them are to be found all the possible forms which man's refusal of God's offer can take. 1. The choice of the elect from the midst of a humanity immersed in sin. Because the human race had turned from Him and had obstinately buried itself in evil, Yah-weh drew forth from it Israel in the desire to make of it a people who would follow His directives. Hence the election of Abraham is presented in the Yahwist tradition of Genesis as the last effort made by Yahweh to prevent His creation from going to perdition apart from Him. This evil had begun when Adam, in his desire for in-dependence, had lost Paradise. Nevertheless, Yahweh did not abandon this fugitive from Him; He gave him the hope of a future victory over the evil in which he had immersed himself; He had even covered the nakedness that the guilty couple had become aware of. To the first couple, punished by their pride, there succeeded a gen-eration of murderers: Cain and his descendants. Once more Yahweh intervened to prevent fallen humanity from disappearing, from the earth under the inexorable blows of the curse of blood. The union of the sons of the gods with the daughters of men provoked such a release of violence that Yahweh decided on the complete de-struction of His work. Nevertheless, He saved from the catastrophe a just man with whom He concluded a cove- 4- 4- 4- VOLUME 22, 1963 4, 4, 4, Erode Beaucamp, O.F.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 136 nant. This was not yet the last act of the drama; the last scene of the beginnings of the human race is the episode of the tower of Babel, the dispersion of the sons of Adam after their aborted attempt to construct a tower that would reach to heaven. Nevertheless, the efforts of Yahweh to arrest man in his vertiginous descent into the abyss were not in vain; for, after the episode of the tower of Babel, a new history begins: the vocation of Abraham, the epic of the patri-archs, the covenant of Sinai. To the first scene of a uni-versal invasion of evil, there succeeds that of the increas-ingly solicitous enterprise of God with regard to a people whom He would choose for His own. Under different forms the same idea is found almost everywhere in the Old Testament. To explain the fact that Israel had taken the place of the Canaanites, the legal texts, for example, tell us that the latter were chased from their land because they had done "what was evil in the eyes of Yahweh"; He had determined to give their land to a people who would agree to live according to His will. But misfortune would come to this people if they ever dared to imitate the conduct of their predeces-sors; He would not hesitate to deprive them of the land. The falling back into the world of sin from which Yah-weh had drawn them led Judah to its ruin, as Jeremiah and Ezekiel emphatically pointed out. The sin of the elect is in fact a return to the sin of the nations after having been freed from it. Each election is pictured as a rupture: Leave your country, your relatives, and your father's house (Gn 12:1), Forget your people and your father's house (Ps 45:11). The call of God implies an ascent towards Him by the practice of what is "right in His eyes" and by a renuncia-tion of "what is evil in his eyes." This initial break must continue throughout the course of time; this requires a constant effort at disencumbrance, for the surrounding world never ceases to exert pressure on the elect to make them fall back under its law. This is the drama of every vocation, not only to religious life but to Christianity self. 2. Resistance to the hand that guides. After He had led the people from Egypt, Yahweh made them cross the desert before bringing them to the Promised Land. The desert is the sign of temptation, a testing of faith. In other words, Yahweh would not give the land of Canaart to the Hebrews unless they abandoned themselves to Him without reserve by remaining faithful to the memory of the marvelous act of liberation by which they left Egypt. But hunger, thirst, and fatigue quickly overcame the faith of the former slaves of the pharaohs. They soon forgot the extraordinary epic of the Exodus; they mur-mured and rebelled against Moses and Aaron; they be-came enraged at seeing themselves in a venture which seemed to be pointless; and they dreamed nostalgically of the onions of Egypt. They refused to march forward on the grounds that the:.P~-omised Land W~s~'fi0t good enough and because the enterprise was to their minds a doomed one (Nm 14). This lack of confidence induced the people of Moses to attempt to assure themselves of the protection of their God by placing Him at their service and by forcing His hand as they wished. This is what the Bible calls "tempt-ing God." Instead of Yahweh "tempting" and trying the people in order to make them proceed according to His will, it was Israel who tempted its God, attempting to bring Him into the service of human caprice. Hence when Moses delayed coming down from the mountain and Yahweh made them wait for His answer, the He-brews made the golden calf, a material representation of their God which would allow them to control Him and to"make Him advance according to their desires at the head of their army. This recalcitrant attitude of the elect blocked the entire matter of the election and prevented their entering the rest of God (Ps 95:11). The intercession of Moses effected a compromise: the rebellious generation died in the desert and only their children possessed the right to the heritage of the God of the covenant. 3. Profanation of God's gift. The covenant gift of the land of Canaan should have created the indissoluble bonds of a steadfast love between Israel and God. Unfortunately, Israel, once it was secure and satisfied, was quick to forget: I led them to pasture; with food came satiety, and with satiety pride; and with pride came forgetfulness of me (Hos 13:6; see also Dt 32:15). The riches of the land of Canaan, instead of constantly recalling to the people the solicitude of Yahweh, drove Him from their mind and nurtured in them the illusion of being able to escape the jealous influence of their God. With the products of their land, they attempted to buy protection abroad; this was a seeking after "lovers"--the famous theme of prostitution. Often this theme is con- [used with the closely related one of adultery. The idea of prostitution certainly includes the notion of unfaith-fulness, but it is wider than that; it is not only the betrayal of love, it is also the profanation of the gifts of love: But you trusted in your beauty, and played the harlot on your reputation; you lavished your harlotries on everyone who passed by. You took off your garments, and made yourself gaily decked shrines, on which you played the harlot. You took also your splendid ornaments of gold and silver, which I had given 4- 4- VOLUME 22, 196;1 4. 4" Erode Beaucamp, O.F.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 138 you, and made yourself images of men, with which you played the harlot. And you took your embroidered robes, and wrapped them in these. My oil and my incense you set before them; my bread which I had given you-~the choice flour, oil, and honey with which I had fed you--you set before them as a soothing odor (Ez 16:15-19). The Chosen People made use of what Yahweh had given them in order to curry the favor of the baals or to buy alliances with the peoples that surrounded them. Resistance to the hand that Ied them or profanation of the gift received represent two aspects of the rebellion of the children of God. However, none of the stages of the history of salvation exists in an absolutely pure state. Hence it is that throughout the length of our Christian life sin can put on the form of a refusal to proceed in the desert and of a prostitution when one, for his own pur-poses and independently of God, makes use of the gift which he has received from His love. The Old Testament leaves us with a vision of a check-mate: God is not able to regain the human race which from the beginning had plunged itself into sin and sepa-rated itself from Him. Unless God would make a new heart for men, they would never be able to rise up to the level of the divine demands. Even the Law which Yahweh had given His elect in an attempt to free them from the surrounding evil came in the end only to increase sin (Rom 7:7-25). The cross of Christ and the gift of the Spirit are necessary in order that we might escape the in. fernal cycle. It is then that there appears that new man according to the heart of God whom the prophets Jere-miah and Ezekiel had predicted: I will give you a new heart, and will put within you a new spirit; I will remove the heart of stone out of your flesh, and will give you a heart of flesh; and I will put my spirit within you, and make you follow my statutes and be careful to observe my ordinances (Ez 36:26-27). There is no need to emphasize that one must not present the Law of Christ which alone can make us pleasing to God without adding that this Law is impractical if Christ Himself does not communicate to us His power so that we might fulfill the demands of the Law. Fundamental Aspects o[ the Discord Between God and Man Throughout the Old Testament the resistance of man to the work of God is presented under three clearly dis-tinguished aspects; it is essential to guard against con-fusing these three when the idea of sin in the Bible is analyzed. 1. Opposition to the work of divine justice. The prin-cipal adversary of divine justice is an individual whom the Hebrew language terms rasha', a term which is usu-ally translated by the word impious or wicked. This rasha' enters into association with the "makers of iniq-uity," "the proud," "the mockers," and the "men of blood." His weapons are cunning, lies, violence; he is constantly thinking of i~i~l~'ity"in his he;irt~ li'~ Sets traps for the innocent; his hands are soiled with blood and he is given to drink. His opposition to justice is shown in two ways: it is, first of all, undisguised hostility towards God who is thought to be too distant to'react against it; and, secondly, it is a merciless war against the just whose violated rights the God of the covenant is pledged to de-fend. For practical purposes, the rasha' and his satellites coincide with the adversaries of the covenant; for the justice they oppose is at the center of the preoccupation of the parties of the covenant. They appear from the very beginning of the human race, but more ~usually they ap-pear as the enemies of the Chosen People; in every case they constantly menace the stability of the work of God in the cosmos and in history. Gradually the distinction between the just and the impious is found within the nation itself; it is at this time that the realization of a qualitative Israel necessitates a distinction between the faithful and those who are traitors and apostates. None of the faithful aligns himself with the: rasha': Drag me not away with the wicked, with those who do wron.g, who speak of peace to their neighbors though evil is in their hearts (Ps 28:3). On the occasion of the demands of the wicked, the just man frequently prays for justice from God; this im-plies that he is the victim not the accomplice of the wicked. If the good man wishes to be heard by Yahweh, he must disassociate himself as completely as possible from the perverse machinations of the artisans of evil: "I hate the assembly of evil~toers, and with the wicked I will not sit down" (Ps 26:5). It is only on this condition that he can cry out: "Judge me"; "Do me justice" (Ps 26:1; 43:1). In the matter of justice, then, the Old Testament knows only negative confessions (Ps 5; 26; 139; Jb 31) like those that the dead recite for their justification be-fore the tribunal of Osiris. There is no avowal of an atti-tude of present opposition to justice, an attitude that the God of the covenant would have to punish; only past sins are confessed the consequences of which are already or about to be felt. This is evidently insufficient for Chris-tians. We not only have to present to the Father our past errors but also a heart which even now is evil and which we ask Him to transform. There can be no doubt that ÷ ÷ ÷ Sin VOLUME 22, 1963 139 ÷ .I. ÷ Erode Beaucamp, O~F.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS such a prayer supposes a pure intention, and this is the profound significance of our negative confessions. Man can not pray to God while desiring evil; nevertheless, pure intentions do not effect that we see exactly what God wants nor even that we feel the power to accomplish it. Our pure intentions require from us only that we aban-don ourselves,to Him in order that we might see and will the perfection which He expects from us: For I do not the good that I wish, but the evil I do not wish, that I perform . Unhappy man that I aml Who will deliver me from the body of this death? (Rom 7:19 and 24). 2. A state of rupture with God. The three Hebrew roots which are ordinarily translated by such words as sin, transgression, iniquity, fault, and so forth express, though each with different nuances, the idea of a state of rupture with the God of the covenant: The Lord's hand is not .too short to save, nor his ear too dull to hear; but your iniquities have been a barrier between you and your God. And your sins have hidden his face, so that he could not hear you (Is 59:1-2). This state is a present situation the cause of which is a definite past act; hence one goes from the awareness of the rupture to an appreciation of its origin: "I have sinned." This is equivalent to saying that if God aban-dons me to my lot, I can blame only myself; it is my own fault: O Lord, the great and revered God, who keeps loving faith with those who love him and keep his commandments, we have sinned . To us, O Lord, pertains confusion of face . but to the Lord our God pertain compassion and forgiveness (Dn 9: 4-5, 8-9). The awareness of sin, then, is the awareness of being abandoned by God through one's own fault; the sinner is like a child experiencing the feeling of no longer being loved by his mother; he feels himself cut off from the one who is his source of life: My anger shall blaze against them, and I will forsake them~ and withhold my favor from them; they shall become a thing to be consumed, and many evils and troubles shall befall them, so that they will say at that time: Is it not because God is not in our midst that these evils have befallen us? (Dt 31:17). By the fact of sin--and this holds true for the relations between man and man as well as for the relations be-tween God and man--the Protector finds Himself re-leaged of His obligation 'towards His proteges; in particu-lar He is no longer bound to see justice done them and He can consider them as His enemies: We look for redress, but it comes not; for salvation, but it remains f~r from us. For many are our sins before you, and our faults bear witness against us (Is 59:11-12). Abandoned by his God and even pursued by His ill will, the sinner is sooner or later doomed to death. In the case of an individual he will use up his strength in a dis-ease that is without hope; in the case of a country it will perish under the blows of epidemics, famines, and wars. For sin breaks not only~th@,~bbnds betwe~en,~n~fi and his God; it also isolates man frbm society and even from the earth, since peace with God is the condition of peace with one's fellow men and with the entire world. In his dereliction and total loneliness, the sinner possesses only one resource: to throw himself into the arms of the One he has offended. On the whole, the Old Testament attaches more im-portance: to this state of rupture than to the nature of the acts which provoke it. Contrary to the confessions of Babylon which attempted to exorcise evil by interminable lists of all possible sins, the Bible generally reduces its inventory to the simple assertion: '~I have sinned." For the Bible, it is God, not sin, that is of interest; it is God that is considered. A sense of sin that is not a sense of God and does not suppose the experience of a valued intimacy is a false sense of sin which can lead to the greatest catastrophes as the history of Luther and Jansen-ism have shown. 3. Impurity, the state of incompatibility with the divine presence. The notions of purity an~l impurity are among the most common and primitive ones in the his-tory of religions. In them is found everywhere the same confusion between taboos of a ritual nature and ethical prescriptions in the proper sense. Sexual pollutions, for example, whether licit or illicit, make one impure, just as the shedding of blood, whether justly or unjustly, profanes the earth. And the contagious nature which is attributed to such impurity makes the notion even more difficult for the modern mind. There has been a mis-understanding of the place which the Bible gives to such a primitive category of thought in later books like Leviti-cus; many see in this a reaction to the effort made by the prophets to form the moral conscience of Israel. But presented in this way, the problem is wrongly placed. Impurity is on a completely different level than that of sin, the rupture with God. It is not concerned with the difficulties and blocks that can lessen the rela-tions of man with God but with that which appears in-compatible with the maintenance of the divine presence in the midst of the country: Because the Lord your God moves within your camp to rescue you and to put your enemies at your mercy, your camp must be clean, so that he may not see anything indecent with you, and turn away from you (Dr 23:14). If the Bible attaches a great importance to this notion sin VOLUM£ 22, 1963 141 ÷ ÷ ÷ E~ode Benuc~mp, O.F.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 142 of impurity, it is because for it the question is not re-ducible to the simple fact of not offending God; it is the much more profound matter of living with Him in His presence. The sense of purity is the awareness of the holiness which election requires, a holiness that must ex-tend to everything which conditions the existence of the elect: I am the Lord your God; consecrate yourselves, therefore, and be holy; for I am holy; so you must not defile yourselves with any kind of insect that crawls on the earth. For I am the Lord who brought you up out of the land of Egypt to be your God, and so you must be holy; for I am holy (Lv 11:44-45). You must be holy to me; for I, the Lord, am holy, and have separated you from other peoples to be mine (Lv 90:26). As long as Israel remained a political and sociological reality, the community of life between Yahweh and His people had necessarily to preserve a character that was both interior and exterior, implying demands both of a physical and a moral order. This combination should not, then, be surprising. It is necessary to wait for the Gospel in order that the problem of purity be elevated to a properly spiritual level, for then the kingdom of God becomes an interior reality which is not involved in the social and material conditions of the life of the elect: "It is what pr6ceeds from a man that makes him impure" (Mk 7:20). All cases of impurity, however diverse, have this in common that they create a cultic incompatibility and make the approach to the divine dangerous. But it is dif-ficult to find how this incompatibility flows from a single principle; this is a world of different and heterogeneous elements which it would be a waste of time to attempt to unify. So, for example, one type of impurity consisted of any attempt to violate a reality that was initially sacred: harvesting, the gathering of fruits, marriage, and so ford~. But impurity was likewise involved when a being was possessed by foreign divinities; the sinner fell into this category when, being rejected by his god, he became the prey of demons. Finally, every act is impure which lessens the essential integrity of a being, especially a consecrated one: the loss of blood or of seminal fluid, the cutting of the hair of a Nazirite, the cutting of a stone intended for an altar, the putting to work of an animal destined to carry a sacred object, and so forth. All this is common to the ancient world; and the Bible in this matter originates nothing, though it should be noted that matters such as sicknesses, curses, various ca-lamities, blood crying for vengeance, cadavers awaiting burial figure here as simply malefic rather than being at-tributed to foreign divinities or demons. Furthermore, it seems to us that a global impression emerges from all this chaos: a being cannot support the presence of God if its existence is diminished or threatened either by an acci-dental loss of substance or by subjection to some other power. Not being fully himself, man in such a case cannot offer himself to his God. If this interpretation is correct, then the need for purity calls out for the idea of the In-carnation, for the Priest without stain who can enter the sanctuary of the God of the covenant; this is the perfect man who has attained the fullness of his stature: "Be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect." Before the majesty of the King-God who was revealed to his eyes, Isaiah becomes frightenedly aware not of his sin but of his impurity: Woe to me, for I am lost; I am a man of unclean lips. and my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts (Is 6:5). It is not sin but impurity which impedes the vision of God: "Blessed are the pure of heart, for they shall see God." Whatever may have been for primitive man the deep roots of the notes of impurity, the idea should not be suppressed but moralized and spiritualized. From this an-cient notion, two elements should be kept for the profit of our own Christian life: first, our Christian life is truly a life with God, and it supposes a full realization of our stature as the "new man" according to Christ and a full posses-sion of ourselves that withholds nothing from the in-fluence of God; secondly, every lessening of our personal vitality is a lessening of the vitality of the community; every lessening of our charity detracts from the global charity of the Church, and it tarnishes her purity, since impurity by its nature is contagious, always passing from individuals to the collectivity. Solutions to the Discord Between God and Man 1. The judgment of the wicked. A victorious judgment of the God of the covenant will put an end to the opposi-tion of the wicked man. This judgment, however, is never purely negative. The wicked man is a dangerous individ-ual, and his downfall affects the salvation of the just: The righteous shall rejoice that he has seen vengeance; he shall wash his footsteps in the blood of the wicked. And men shall say: There certainly is a reward for the just; there cer-tainly is a God who judges on earth (Ps 58:10-11). As we have seen, the wicked man is generally con-sidered as unable to be converted; this is why his disap-pearance appears as the only solution to the evil of which the just man is a victim; the world will regain its peace only when God has caused this evil to fall on its authors. Gradually, however, other conceptions of the matter came into existence. Jeremiah and especially Ezekiel envisage ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 22° 1963 ÷ Evode Beaucamp, O.F.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the case of a wicked man who abandons his wickedness to practice "judgment and justice": As I live, says the oracle of Yahweh, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but rather in this that the wicked man turn from his way and live. Turn, O turn, from your evil waysl Why should you die, O house of Israeli (Ez 33:11). This view of the conversion of the wicked is a direct preparation for the Gospel. Christ will proclaim that He has come not for the just but for the wicked---the publi-cans and adulterers who without conversion would fall beneath the blows of the avenging anger of God. The great revolution of the Gospel is the distinction between evil and evil men; in the Our Father it is from evil that we ask to be freed and not from our enemies, as was done in the Psalms. As long as a man has not drawn his last breath, he is never to be identified with evil and we must always hope for his eventual conversion. The venge-ance of the just is no longer the extermination of the wicked but their penance and reparation. 2. The pardon of the sin. The one who has culpably lost communion with God can only hope for the gratui-tous act of clemency and pity Which the One offended can grant or not grant when pardon is asked of Him. In the rupture man took the initiative, but the initiative in the matter of reconciliation belongs exclusively to God. More than in any other case there apears here the impos-sibility of forcing His hand. Sin, the rupture of relations between God and man, is an intolerable weight from which the sinner cannot free himself by his own effort; it is a weight that only the One offended is in a position to lift: For, day and night, your hand lay heavy upon me . I said: I will confess my transgressions to the Lord, and you forgave the guilt of my sin (Ps 32:4-5). The Babylonians, in order to have greater certainty of their restoration to favor, frequently attempted to have another friendly divinity intervene with the angered god. In the Bible, as is evident, man is without the possibility of such a mediation. He must directly approach the God he has offended and throw himself at His feet while de-claring "I have sinned"; he must rely entirely on God's mercy. It is clear that such an act implies conversion; it is the return of the prodigal son to his Father's house. While the Bible does not permit the sinner to avoid encountering the God he has angered, still it does not leave him without arguments by which he can plead his case. He can, for example, invoke the glory of the God of the covenant whose name he still continues to bear: What will the nations think of Yahweh if He continues to leave his people defenseless? (Ps 79; 80; Ez 32:11-14). He can also invoke His justice: In abandoning His own, does not Yahweh yield to His enemies? (Ps 41). Finally, he can appeal to the shortness of life--life which a pro-lUonngfoedrt uabnsaetnelcye, owf eG coadn m naokte ds eelmayp thye aren du ,s epngsne~le sths e(Pses 9a0rg).u-ments which still retaiii,:th~ir~, validity for, oi~i~ prayer as Christians. We have already pointed out that the penitent does not dwell upon an analysis of his culpable act but keeps his eyes on the God the lack of whom he suffers and in whom he sees his only hope; the simple fact of the rupture is al-ready virtually the presence of death and it constitutes for the sinner the deepest kind of punishment than which nothing greater is to be feared. The penitent calls on the judgment and justice of Yahweh as a grace the right to which he has lost by sin. He awaits the moment of pardon which will reestablish him in the friendship of His God so that once again he will be protected in the midst of a hostile world: The anger of the Lord must I bear--for I have sinned against him--until he shall take up my case and do me justice (Mi 7:9). Once pardon h.as been granted, the remembrance of the sin disappears in the remembrance of the victorious love of Yahweh, a love which is capable of overpowering all offenses and which in its profundity and total gratuitous-ness leaves the soul of man in confusion (Ps 103); here already there is almost found the felix culpa of St. Au-gustine. Moreover, the world which the divine mercy re-constructs is always more beautiful than the one de-stroyed by sin. To illustrate this law, it is sufficient to reflect on the messianic prophecies which for the most part are prophecies of pardon (Ps 85; Is 40-55; 60; Ez 34; and so forth). 3. Purification of Defilement. Having been excluded from worship, the defiled man must purify himself be-fore coming into the presence of God.'It is a co.mmon idea among all the ancient religions that the gods have given men ritual materials and formulas that are capable of purifying them, their temples, and their country. In particular, there are appropriate rites that permit the expulsion from the impure being of the evil spirits and demons who have taken possession of him; thus, for ex-ample, spells and curses which had victimized a person were made to pass on to the body of animals wh~ch.~:were then driven far away or burned. In the Bible this liturgi-cal transfer has left only a few traces, the most notable ex-ample of which is that of the scapegoat of the D~y of Atonement (Lv 16). This animal, loaded with the sins of Israel, was not offered to Yahweh but driven far aw~iy to Azazel. 4, 4, VOLUME 22, 1963 ÷ ÷ ÷ Erode Beau~arap, O.F.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 146 In place of this image of a transfer, the Bible has pre-ferred that of cleansing through ablutions and sprinkling with blood and water. This symbol is simultaneously negative and positive: at the same time as it removes the uncleanliness, the water restores all the freshness of life. This is also, as it seems to me, the function of the blood in the atonement rite and in the sin sacrifices. But we shall not delay here on this difficuh and debated point; we will content ourselves with giving our own personal opinion. Blood seems to have as its effect the protection of the things and persons which it covers; it protects them from the various evils which are the sequel of sin just as the blood of the paschal lamb did at the Exodus (Ex 12:1-15). But to this negative effect there is added a posi-tive action; for blood is life, and it is by reason of the life that is in it that Yahweh has given it as an effector of atonement (Lv 17:10-12). Thanks to it, persons, cult ob-jects, and the country that is the abode of Yahweh find their fullness of life, their first integrity which impurity had caused to be lost. The application of this Biblical rite to our Christian life is not difficult. The sin of a Christian can be con-sidered as a stain that not only changes our personal re-lations with God but also diminishes the vital potentiali-ties of the Church and impairs her charity. Reparation, therefore, is a social duty just as it was in ancient Israel. God has given us the Blood of Christ as an inexhaustible source of love so that we can preserve for the Church the immaculate appearance which her divine Spouse initially bestowed on her: He wished to summon into his presence the Church in all her beauty, with no stain, wrinkle, or any disfigurement; she. was to be holy and spotless (Eph 5:27). Conclusion By way of conclusion, let us synthesize the results of our inquiry. In order that the notion of sin preserve all the force that the Bible gives it, it must include three ele-ments: deterioration of the order of creation; rupture with God, the source of life; and impurity which hinders all commerce with the divine. All this is what is repre-sented by the word sin at the time of the New Testament~ it is all this that Christ has come to restore, heal, and purify. Under these three aspects, sin is a flight from God, the only source of life and happiness; it represents the contrary of all the effort God has made throughout his-tory to draw us to Him; it is a return back to a past from which He has drawn us; it is our refusal to allow ourselves to be led by Him blindly; it is our squandering of the gifts we have received. To depart from God is to depart from other men and finally to find oneself alone in a hostile world: And it has brought you. w " as reconciled . ,_ o ~;. ¯ - uom~ wron~ ;-,- - "-' holiness a~a t__ )vu mrough dying, ;,,~.:_ . 6 ~-o.ugn now (Col 1:2'1_~)."ee ~rom reproa~c h. .or ~Ta~'e,'~'~vt~uas op~rensve nbcoedy) ia Sin VOLUME 22, 1963 PAUL W. O'BRIEN, S.J. The Weekly Confession of Fervent Religious ÷ ÷ Paul W. O'Brien, S.J., is the rector of the Pontifical Semi-nary in Dalat, Viet-nam. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 148 The word "fervent" in the title is not meant to frighten away those good religious for whom the article is actually written, but who usually hesitate to think of themselves as fervent. It is used rather to indicate the limited perspective of the article, a perspective however which we trust is representative of religious and hehce applicable to many. It is not unusual to find religious who have a problem with their weekly confession--a problem that seems to arise not from their being tepid but rather from their being fervent. They are serious about their religious life. They would rather do anything than deliberately offend God in the smallest thing. And yet they find a certain uneasiness, tedium, even difficulty with their weekly con-fession. Time and again they have consulted the classical authors to find ways of refreshing this exercise, but usu. ally with only transitory success. The considerations pro-posed in these manuals, while excellent and fundamental and helpful to a certain point, do not really fit. For the religious we have in mind does not come to his weekly confession as an enemy of God; he does not come with mortal sins; he has no need of being "reconciled" to the Church, much less of having divine life "restored" to his soul. His confession is not one of obligation, and con:;e-quently there is nothing that he is obliged to confess (supposing always that to ensure the validity of his con-fession, he mentions his past forgiven sins, at least in a general way). In fact he rarely (more likely never) brings unforgiven sins to the confessional. For to say nothing of the many ways that venial sins can be forgiven out-side the sacrament, his daily communion is constantly purifying his soul, and his habit of immediately turning to God in loving sorrow for any fault committed, plus the. contrition that he excites before confession, brings him to the confession with really no unforgiven matter. Clearly the basic considerations of the purgative way, which may once have applied to him, and whose grateful memory will always remain with him, are not sufficient. There is need of a ditter~ent perspective~a .,shifting of emphasis, if his confession ~is" to produce the,, fruit ex-pected by the Church. ' ¯ ~. ~ For the Church is greatly concerned about these fre-quent confessions. When som~ younger members of the clergy were diminishing esteem for the frequent confes-sion of venial sins, claiming that it was useless, consumed too much time of busy pastors, and was actually un-known in the early Church, Pope Plus XII spoke out clearly and strongly against them (Mystici Corporis 87): Equally disastrou~s in its effects is the false contention that tile frequent confession of venial sins is not a practice to be greatly esteemed. Therefore those among the young clergy who are diminishing esteem for frequent confession are to know that the enterprise upon which they have embarked is alien to the Spirit of Christ and most detrimental to the Mys-tical Body of our Savior. For a constant and speedy ad-vancement in the path of virtue, we highly recommend the practice of frequent confession, introduced by the Church under the guidance of the Holy Spirit; for by this means we grow in a true knowledge of ourselves and in Christian hu-mility, bad habits are uprooted, spiritual negligence and apathy are prevented, the conscience is purified and the will strengthened, salutary spiritual direction is obtained, and grace is increased by the efficacy of the sacrament itself. In the following lines it is not my purpose to touch on all the above advantages nor to give a form to confession nor to enter into the aspect of spiritual direction in the confessional. I wish merely to redistribute the emphasis of certain aspects and thus perhaps help towards a solu-tion of our problem. Sacrament of Loving Sorrow One of the areas that calls for reappraisal and a pos-sible reshifting of emphasis concerns our habitual way of looking on the sacrament. There is danger that a way of speaking will induce a way of thinking. Because of our ordinary practice of speaking of the sacrament of pen-ance as "confession," we may develop a wrong emphasis. Now I am not advocating a change in our traditional terminology, but we must be careful lest our way of speaking throw everything out of focus. For the actual "confession" of sins, in the type of confession we are dealing with, is one of the least important elements of the sacrament. And yet it is frequently the main source of trouble for the fervent religious: "What to say?" Such a preoccupation is understandable when there is ques-tion of the integrity of an obligatory confession of mortal sins, but how completely out of place it is in our con- 4- 4- 4- Weekly onlession VOLUME 22, 1963 ]49 P. W. O'B~i~, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS fessions. I wonder if our exact catechetical training, given chiefly in view of a form of obligatory confession, is not unduly transferred to confessions of devotion. At any rate, it is not rare to find the problem of confession be-coming more acute as the religious becomes more fer-vent, the problem of "what to say" becoming so empha-sized as to bring on uneasiness. But even when we think more exactly in terms of the "sacrament of penance," we must still be on our guard. The very word "penance" can become a source of mis-understanding. The Latin word paenitentia of which our English "penance" is a translation, has been well-chosen and in its real meaning of "sorrow with purpose of amendment" is quite appropriate. But in English we do not think that way. For us "penance" is associated with fasting and disciplines; and even though we have been taught that true interior penance consists in sorrow for our sins, this is not our habitual association with the word "penance." Would that the translating fathers had given us something like "sacrament of sorrow." It would have helped us put the emphasis where it belongs. The emphasis then in this "sacrament of sorrow" should be on sorrow; but a sorrow that is a free and meritorius act. This should immediately put us on our guard against certain counterfeits. It is a free act; hence always in my power. I can make it on Monday; I can make it on Friday. I can make it when I am depressed; I can make it when I am as dry as a stick. Evidently its value does not and cannot depend on emotional inten-sity (which is not in my power). It is a movement of the will detesting sin because of my conviction (intellectua! appreciation) that God's will is above all. Its efficacy measured not by the accompanying emotion or affection. (if there is any) but by the strength derived from my conviction. Now for the fervent religious this conviction has become habitual. It is constantly operative in his daily life as is evidenced by his care in avoiding all that is against God's will. But it can well be that this con-viction has.become so settled in his life that it sets up no emotional resonance. He must not be surprised then when he finds that his sorrow in the confessional reta~ins the same strong voluntary but unemotional tendency that characterizes his daily life. He detests sin and all his failings because he truly loves God and has made will the supreme norm of his life. Here the question of motive enters. It is this that sets the tone to our sorrow and our confession. The faithful religious does not come to God in fear but in love,~,as to his Father. The Little Flower puts it simply: I have long believed that the Lord is more tender than a mother. I know that a mother is always ready to forgive trivial, involuntary misbehavior on the part of her child . Children are always in trouble, falling down, getting themselves dirty, breaking thing~but all this does not shake their parent's love for them. We come to God as His dearest children, sharing His very life, coming with th.e loving sorrow .of asofi; to be reassured that all, all has b&fi forgiven;' to i:eceive the embrace of the Father. Sacrament ol Purification One of the perspectives of the sacrament that opens up a rich vein of thought and deserves to be emphasized by the faithful religious is the aspect of purification-- purification not in the sense of liberation from the guilt of actual sins and faults--but rather a deeper purifica-tion that penetrates to the roots of those faults, to the habitual tendencies which cause them, and to the reli-quiae peccati which are their results. The sacrament be-comes (if you will pardon the expression) a sort of radio-therapy of our deep wickedness. We expose our wounds, visible or not, with a certain reasoned eagerness and joy to the curative influence of the sacrament. We are not so much preoccupied about our past actual faults. We have sorrowed over them and know that they have been wiped out through God's mercy. It is rather the deep of our soul, the roots of the faults, which give promise of bring-ing forth again their fruit of death--it is these roots which disturb us. And here precisely is where the "grace of the sacrament" comes into play--a grace which the Council of Florence describes as a grace of purification, a grace of healing: "Through penance we are spiritually healed" (DB 695). This grace reaches beyond the actual sins, forgiven by the absolution, to reach deep into our nature into the causes of those sins. This purifying influence acts not only on the soul but also on the body. I believe we may find an analogy in the effects of the sacrament of extreme unction which is usually considered as the complement of penance. Its influence in strengthening soul and body during serious sickness should give us some clue to the purifying action of penance. For we may well believe that the effects of this sacrament are but the "finishing touches" to a proc-ess begun and carried on through other sacraments throughout one's life. All the sacraments, even Holy Eucharist, have a purifying influence on the whole per-son, body and soul. Now one of the effects of the sacra-ment of extreme unction is to weaken the effects of con-cupiscence, to restore some part of our original integrity which was lost through Adam's sin. St. Thomas explains our inability to avoid all indeliberate venial sins by concupiscence together with the slowness of our percep- + + + Weekly Con]ession 151 ÷ ÷ ÷ P. W. O'Bden, $.L REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS tion of good, the changeableness of our will, and the frequency of temptation (S. T. 1, q 109, a 8). Now in re-ducing concupiscence, extreme unction restores order to man's strivings, subordinating the sensitive to the spirit-ual and the spiritual to God; it helps put a man in true possession of himself, so that he is able to dominate not only those positive urges of soul and body that escape control but also the oppressive weight of dead inertia by which the sensitive life impedes the striving of the will toward God. From this precious purifying and strengthening action of extreme unction, we may gather some idea of what takes place in the sacrament of pen-ance, not precisely in view of a serious sickness but look-ing rather to the progressive purification of our soul as it weakens concupiscence, counteracts sluggishness, or-ders our passions, and restores us to spiritual liberty. Awareness of Sinfulness Now it is precisely this grace of purification that draws religious to the sacrament of penance. (Perhaps I should say "drives," for there is no question of an emotional attraction, but rather the compelling force of a reasoned conviction based on faith.) It is this that explains the daily confessions of so many saints--St. Catherine of Siena, St. Ignatius, St. Francis Xavier, St. Peter Claver, St. Charles Borromeo, St. A1phonsus Liguori. Surely they were not deliberately sinning nor were they scrupulous. But they understood better the holiness of God. St. Francis Borgia was accustomed to confess twice a day, once in the morning before saying Mass and again in the evening before retiring. By this I do not mean that daily confession, where possible, is a goal to be aimed at. It may be helpful regularly for some persons, or for others at particular times of special grace or difficulty. This is a problem to be determined with one's confessor. I merely mention these examples to illustrate one of the great motives of frequent confession--the desire for pu-rity. This desire of the saints for purity is shared by ,~11 faithful souls according to their grace. For as the reli-gious strives to lead his life more generously, avoiding as far as he can all deliberate failings, he participates more abundantly in God's light. The effect is twofold: he be-gins to understand more clearly who God is, and in the same measure he becomes more aware of his wretched-ness. He finds himself in an attitude of soul similar to that of Eliphaz, one of Job's friends, who tells .us that his hair stood on end when in vision a spirit passed be-fore him. "I heard the voice as it were of a gentle wind: Shall man be justified in comparison with God, or shall a man be more pure than his Maker? Behold. in his angels he found wickedness." (Jb 4:15 ft.). Isaiah re-cords a similar state of soul, the result of his great vision of the holiness of God. "Woe is me because I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people that hath unclean lips and I have seen with my eyes the King, the Lord of hosts" (Is 6:l-5)~The religious~in~tlle light of God s hohness becomes painfully consc,ous, I will not say of "sin," but of sinfulness. He longs to bring his sins to the confessional, but what sins? Here precisely is the trouble. The sins that are clear have long since been sub-mitted to the sacrament in sorrow. He knows that they are forgiven and blotted from the sight of God. But the daily failings? Truly they are not deliberate sins. He would rather do anything than displease God. He cannot pin down his failings. And yet he is painfully conscious of a mass of selfishness, insincerity, sensuality, but deep in the soul where he cannot reach. He realizes that this wickedness penetrates all that he does, but it is not in acts where it can be grasped. And he also realizes that this is not an illusion; the wickedness is really there. This creates a problem for him--a problem that per-haps increases with the fidelity of the soul--and which often accounts for much of the difficulty experienced in approaching the sacrament. It seems such hypocrisy to have nothing to say. And yet no matter how long the ex-amination of conscience is prolonged, nothing more spe-cific is discovered. He has only wasted precious time that could have been more profitably spent on deepening his loving sorrow. Nor is this due simply to negligence of the soul. Perhaps most natures do not have the per-spicacity to analyze and draw out into the clear these deep tendencies of the soul. The light that is given them is not so sharp. Nor need it be; for its purpose of hu-miliation and purification is equally accomplished by the confused and painful acceptance of what the soul perceives confusedly. According to One's Light Fortunately, in this type of confession, the accusation is one of the least important parts. Hence very little time should be spent on the actual examination of conscience. The daily examination of conscience faithfully made will guarantee the religious against negligence, and a quick glance will usually reveal where he has displeased God. Hence if within a few minutes nothing specific is dis-covered, he should stop his inquiry and be satisfied with a general accusation: "I accuse myself of all the sins of my past life, especially for my sins of pride, sensuality, or against some commandment." Father Saint-Jure, S.J., gives this directive: Those (venial sins) which we should seek out and confess Weekly ¢onlesslon VOLUME Z2o '1'963 153 4. 4. 4. P. W. O'Brien, $.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]54 with more c~ire are those which weigh most heavily on us, and those which cause us more embarrassment and shame, pro-vided that we are able to confess them with honesty a~d de-cency; likewise those which ~hinder us most from attaining the perfection to which God calls us, or which are contrary to the virtue to. which we are particularly devoting our efforts for that week or month. And since among venial sins there are some which arise from mere weakness, which escape us as by surprise, and others from malice, which we commtt with full knowledge, coldly, understanding what we are doing and with full consent, of these latter none should be omitted in con-fession. As for the others, one should leave them to the mercy of God, and confess them in general, all-inclusive terms: If the soul is sufficiently. . .pure so that it commits only these sins of weakness, let zt ~ndzcate some of them" (On the Knowledge and Love of our Lord Jesus Christ, Bk 3, c 10, ~9). Hence we may give as a practical rule: I may accuse myself of whatever God gives me the light to see as dis-pleasing to Him (no matter how trivial it may seem in itselD. If I see specific failings clearly, it is well to accuse myself at least of some of them; if I see them only.in a confused way, as tendencies, I should be content to ac-knowledge them in this general way (paying particular attention to one or another of them for a few weeks at a time)--adding, however, a general accusation of past forgiven sins to insure the validity of the confession. This awareness of sinfulness and inability to reach it through our own efforts is often given by spiritual writers as a reason for God's intervention through the passive purification of the soul. We read of "dark nights of the soul" in which God's purifying action goes deep where the active effort of the soul cannot penetrate, purifying the roots of our evil inclinations, attacking the basic self-ishness of the soul. This, type of purification is usually associated with trials in prayer that fall to the lot of con-templatives. We know, however, that God's purifying action can take many forms, that his apostles are often purified through the trials inherent in their apostolate. Surely a most powerful means of purification and one which is often overlooked is the very sacrament of purifi-cation instituted by Christ, which accomplishes in the soul much the same work as the "dark nights" and apos-tolic trials: namely, the progressive submission of our lower nature to the higher and the higher to God, the liberation of our soul from the weight of its wicked in-clinations and its consequent gradual transformation in God. Building up the Body oI Christ As the religious grows in his vocation, he should grow also in a sense of his solidarity with the Churcli, the Mystical Body. He begins to see his sin and sinfulness in their social aspect. While clearly realizing that his sin is his own, for which he alone is responsible, he is more aware of the consequences of his sin on the organism of which he is a member--and this apart from the harmful effects that may come through bad example, coopera-tion, and so forth. He understands that the life that is in him is a shared lif~e; ~w, eakened with 'his'.~weakness, strengthened with his strength. It.is true that our liturgy today does not give such prominence to the social aspect of penance as in the old days when the penitent, after a period of public penance, was restored on Holy Thurs-day to the family life of the Church so that he might share the Paschal Bread of life with the other members of his family, the Church. Nor is there question of our religious being "restored" to the Church. But he begins to feel deeply his corporate responsibility, He is ashamed of the sinfulness that he brings to the immaculate Spouse of Christ. Aware of the lessening of love, as sin drains this Body anemic, he strives to replenish the blood ;stream with his love. He understands the general disappearance in the world of a sense of sin and rushes with his loving sorrow to make amends. If he be a priest whose mission it is to destroy sin in the world, he finds an added joy both in receiving and administering the sacrament. He offers God a soul in which He may work more purity, and thus "build up the Body of Christ" (Eph 4.9). And with this consciousness of his unity in the Mystical Body, a new dimension is added to his examination Of con-science, or rather a more acute awareness of his already existing obligation: his duty of charity; his responsibility for the spread of God's kingdom; his sins of omission through cowardice, selfishness, love of ease; the primacy of love. Meeting with the Three One beautiful but rarely stressed aspect of this sacra-ment is our meeting with the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. While it is true that the glorified humanity of Jesus is the instrument of all our grace, it is still the Word of God who takes away sin. "Who can forgive sin but God alone?" (Lk 5:21), Every sacramental absolution is then the action of Jesus, the great high priest, acting through His representative, a man chosen from amongst sinners. And in receiving that absolution, I come in vital contact with Jesus. Here He bestows on me the grace of redemption. Jt is for this that He came into the world, as He prolongs into my soul the efficacy of His redemp-tive sacrifice. -The life that He gives, He won in His blood. It is this that causes such joy in heaven, more than over the ninety-nine just, this prolongation of the rich mysteries of His death and glorification, for me a new 4- 4- 4- Weekly Conlession VOLUMF 22, 1963 155 + ÷ ÷ P. W. O'Brien, SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 156 baptism, as plunged into His death, I rise to a new or richer life. But often we are inclined to forget the part of the Father and the Holy Spirit. If there is pardon in the sacrament and grace of purification, it is because the Father loves us beyond all telling. "God [the Father] so loved the world that he gave his only-begotten Son." (Jn 3:16). In the pardon of the Son, I meet the love of the Father. And if there is life in the sacrament, it is because the Father, in giving His Son, gives us also the Holy Spirit who pours forth the charity of God into our hearts (Rom 5:5), this Spirit who cleanses, who burns away the impurities of our soul in the fire that He is. All this is brought out strikingly in the very institution of this sacrament of peace. It is as though the glorified Christ can hardly wait to begin pouring out the effects of His loving sacrifice. The very eve of Easter Sunday, He must come to His frightened Apostles in the upper room to give them power to forgive sin, First He shows them His wounds, the price of the sacrament, and the proof that it is really the glorified Christ in His human-ity. And then: " 'Peace be to you. As the Father has sent Me, I also send you.' When He had said this, He breathed upon them and said to them, 'Receive the Holy Spirit; whose sins you shall forgive, they are forgiven them; and whose sins you shall retain, they are retained' " (Jn 20:21- 23). The Father is there, prolonging in Jesus and through Jesus in the apostles, the love that fathered the redemp-tion. The Son is there, in His glorified humanity, com-municating the fruits of His redemptive offering. But first the Spirit must be given, for it is in the Spirit that the soul is led through the Son to the Father. What happiness for the faithful soul is this meeting in the sacrament with the ThreeI ]oy to the Heart of ]esus But if there is joy to the soul on meeting the Three, there is joy in the Three as They enrich the soul. For the eagerness of the soul to meet its God can never begin to match the love of God that goes out to meet the soul. "I have come that they may have life and have it more abundantly" (Jn I0:10). The entire life of Jesus, with all its sufferings, has been aimed precisely at moments such as these, when meeting with the soul, He can com-municate the graces won on Calvary. If love that is frus-trated and refused can be such a torment, Love that gives and is received can be immeasurable joy. It is this joy that is ours to give to Jesus as we open our hearts in sorrow to His purifying love. JACQUES LECLERCQ The Priest Today In a preceding article? on active lay people, I men-tioned the confusion of priests when they ask themselves what their purpose is since now in meetings of fill kinds lay persons make meditations and in general ~ssume a spiritual role. And yet. The Presence o] the Priest And yet the laity cling to the presence of the priest. It seems that something essential is missing if a priest is not present--this priest who does nothingl Things now are entirely different from what they used to be. For one thing, previously there were no meet-ings that resemble the ones of today. Formerly when the priest .took his part by preaching a sermon, the faithful listened and then left. Or at the time when study clubs began to be organized, the priest presided and directed, trying with more or less success to make the various mem-bers speak; and frequently he was the only one to do any speaking. Today, however, he is neither presiding officer nor director. He is rather a chaplain; he assists--in Italy he is called the assistente ecclesiastico [the ecclesiastical assistant]. At times one may have the impression that everything happens without him, but in reality there is nothing that happens without him. Everything happens with him; but this "with him" is something other than "under his direction." All of this is disconcerting for those who are accustomed to the authoritarian conceptions of former times. The priest does nothing, and yet he is indispensable. When lay persons form a spiritual group of some kind, one of their first concerns is always to have a chaplain; for without a chaplain it would seem that the group is unable to suc-ceed. Is there any way in which we can point out pre-cisely what it is that the priest provides? x In La revue nouvelle, a Belgian periodical, during 1962,. Canon Leclercq published a number of articles on the laity in the Church today. The present article is translated with permission from La revue nouvelle, September 15, 1962, pp. 171-84. 4. 4. 4. Canon Jacques Le- ¢lercq fives at 102, rue de Li/~ge; Beau-lays, Belgium. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS lacqu~s Le¢l~rcq REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 158 The matter is a real puzzle, and it is being investigated from almost every angle. It is not a question of the sacra-merits. As is evident, it is the priest who distributes these. But the Christian life, as it is conceived today, is some-thing other than the sacraments. It is based on the sacra-ments; it is nourished by them; yet Catholic Action meet-ings, or meetings of workers or of managers, of students, of scotits and their leaders, have a purpose entirely other than that of receiving the sacraments; they are not even spoken of. Nor is it expected that the priest give an in-struction or a sermon. It is only expected that he be there, participating in the meeting with the rest. It would seem that from the Christian viewpoint some-thing is lacking to lay persons when they are left to them-selves., And yet it is a question of their own life, for it is they who must put into practice what they discuss. But at the same time it is a question of their own life insofar as it is Christian. From this point of view, it is necessary to have a priest in the midst of them. And I think that this expression "in the midst of them" is the exact one. A French priest, who works among the working class, has made the following remark on this point: I think that the people need a founder, someone who ~'will unite them in the charity of Christ. Lay persons can do some things, but they cannot be centers. Hence they need Someone who will be a religious center, a kind of church, for them. They do not only need Christians who are the presence of the Church, but they need above all a church in the sense of the Church realized in this community; they need someone who unites them and who is the head in the sense of being a father, not someone who commands but one who assembles and who is first ("T~moignage de M. Lelubre" in Etudes sur ,le sacre-merit de l'ordre [Paris: Cerf, 1957], p. 432). When this is reflected on, one sees very clearly the ap-pearance of the reality that is the Church. Christ continues His presence and His action by the Church. The Church is the people of God; and the people of God is constituted first of all by lay persons. In order to avoid giving the impression of tending towards laicism --which consists of excluding the clergy--let me say at once that the Church is both lay persons and priests, all of them together. But priests--all of them, even the bishops and the pope---exist for the laity, for the service of the laity. When it is said that they exist for the laity-- the pope himself is entitled the servant of 'the servants of God---this means that the people of God is essentially the laity, that it is to them that the divine life flows and that it is through them above all that it manifests itself. If the Church, according to the words of Scripture, is like a lamp that one lights and puts on a lampstand, this is the laity--Christian life in the family and in daily occupa-tions, The clergy, priests, religious are at the service of this. The result of their work is not that an elite may en-close itself within monasteries in order to live in God, nor even that Christian people in more or less great numbers may gather in churches to. ce,lebrate divine~worship; rather the result of their "dork is that through Christians Christ lives and acts in families and in the world. Priests and religious must sanctify themselves per-sona! ly in order to create a climate of holiness in the Church; but the result of the Church's holiness must be found in homes and in the world. When we use the word "world" [citd] here, we are envisaging professional, politi-cal, and social activities--all that can be called public life. It is to this that the life of Christ in the Church tends. Hence the Church is above all the laity; and it is through the laity that she first manifests her dynamism. But it is priests who form the laity in a Christian way. Priests :are men of the Church and men of God. '.Their function is to represent the Church; they exist only for this. ~ The lay person must be entirely Christian and at the same time something else besides; this shows forth the character of the Incarnation, that reality which is found only in Christianity. The Incarnation consists in this that the work and supernatural action of God is accomplished in and through nature. It has been frequently remarked that the supernatural is above the natural, but not contrary to the natural; it does not. suppress nature but elevates it; it transforms the natural, but it takes the natural into account. It constructs from, above; this can never be repeated too often if one wishes to comprehend what Christianity is. The kingdom of God, then, must be built up among men by taking due account of their nature. The Spirit of God transforms this nature to its depths; this is mani-fested exteriorly by the intention that animates action and by the choice which is made among various actions; .never-theless, these actions retain their .human character, and this must be remembered by those who are concerned with them. The Priest is Leaven Christ compared the kingdom of God to leaven that makes the dough rise; good bread can not be made with-out yeast. But yeast alone is not sufficient to make bread. Flour is needed, and the baker must be careful to secure good flour. It is necessary to knead the bread carefully. It must be baked in a good oven at the right temperature and for the right length of time and so forth. If the 4. 4. 4. The Priest Today VOLUME 22, 139 Jacques l.eclercq REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 160 kingdom of God is like the leaven in bread, one can say that the priest is the depositary of this leaven; but it the laity who are like the bakers who must be occupied with all the conditions for the preparation of the bread. Moreover, it is they who must make use of the yeast. If the priest remains alone with his leaven, there will never be any bread; and if the bakers do not have the yeast, once again there will be no bread. Both are neces-sary. Now let us transpose all this into the entirety of life. The laity found homes and give life to the world. This obliges them to think of many things that in themselves are independent of the kingdom of God. It is to be noted that I have said "in themselves," for nothing is a stranger to the kingdom of God when one places it in the entirety of life. For example, parents must be concerned with the health of their children, their nourishment, their cloth-ing, their studies. The kingdom of God takes part in all this as a kind of preoccupation that orientates this activ-ity ir,.~ a certain measure, but only in a certain measure. And the same is the case with employers, workers, farmers, students, and so forth. But the priest is the man of God. He recalls the king-dom of God by his mere presence; one can say, by his existence, for he has no other purpose for existing. Theo-retically it should be sufficient that a priest be present for one to think of the kingdom of God. The word "theo-retically" is used because men are not perfect, and both priests and the laity are men. Nevertheless, this is the way reality is, and it is this that the laity perceive even when they cannot express it; it is this that leads them, when they are concerned with the kingdom or the way in which God should penetrate their life, to unite themselves around a priest. In brief, all the matters which.form the tissue of the llfe of the laity.are of importance for the kingdom of God; but they are not the kingdom of God. If, when they wish to discuss the repercussion of the kingdom of God on these matters, people gather together without a priest, the discussion easily slips over into the purely human condi-tions of activity; the presence of a priest, however, centers it upon the kingdom. Hence the laity need to have a priest present in their life. This also explains the desire of families to have times a visit from a priest. This is especially true in towns; but it differs from one locality to another, for we are discussing here the case of fervent Christians who desire that their faith influence their lives. In places where such Christians do not exist, the matter is quite different and needs to be discussed further. But to return to our subject, the visit of a priest to families is not a matter of giving a sermon or even of speaking principally about religion. It is a presence. Christian families enjoy having a priest in their homes. They want the priest to know them, their children, and their way of life. And this contributes to the general at-mosphere which reigns iri.~th~. home; th~"~ '6hversation spontaneously takes a vein different from the conversa-tion that is had with colleagues or with friends. And the fact that the priest is involved in their life permits all kinds of questions to be directed to him. The problem of the visit of a priest to families arouses a great many questions which can not be treated here, for they deserve an article to themselves. For the present, let us limit ourselves to pointing out these aspirations of good Christians. We are concerned with good Christians. As we pointed out previously, the Church cannot reach bad Christians or non-Christians except through the laity. The laity must be active or the Church will not take hold of the world; in the terms of the Gospel, she will be a light under a basket or leaven apart from the dough. But these active laity need the priest. Left to themselves, they are liable to be routed even in their interior life. In order that they may be united under the standard of Christ and that they may attack in an orderly way the problems of their interior life and of their Christian action in the world, the priest must be in the midst of them. In conclusion, let us note that in the Church at the beginning of this century the priest was occupied with a good many other things which were often profane; by reason of a tradition which dies away only slowly, many priests today are still taken up to a large extent by ad-ministrative and other activities which the laity would be better occupied with. The result is that priests are ab-sorbed by activities which are not suited to them; at the same time they are unavailable for groups of active Christians or they find it impossible to visi~ families. In any case, this new role of the priest is so important that there can be no Church without him. And the activ-ities that correspond to this role are so numerous and pressing that good priests are crowded with such activ-ities. And there is even the complaint that there are not enough priests. And yet what we have discussed so far is but one of the activities of a priest. Spiritual Action The action of leaven can not be seen; this results in difficulty for some because man has a body and is highly dependent on it. Man needs to see, and yet the soul and action on souls cannot be seen. ÷ ÷ ÷ The Priest Today VOLUME 22, ~.963 161 lacques Leclercq REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS There are, first of all, the older priests of whom we have already spoken; for these the pastoral ministry is ex-pressed by material activities and they can not conceive any other type. Moreover, they do not conceive of any other priestly intervention than the authoritarian form of formal congregational meetings composed of a sermon and a greeting. Today, all this has become secondary, if indeed it has not been completely abandoned. Formerly when the priest spoke authoritatively, he gave directions in many matters (politics, for instance) which touched religion only very indirectly. At the present time, there is a growing agreement that priests are not to in-terest themselves in the temporal. However, many priests formerly were interested in nothing else. To the extent that this remains true, one can understand that they have the impression of no longer knowing what to do. This outmoded spirit dies out only slowly; in semi-naries as well as in houses of study of religious orders clerical formation likewise becomes transformed only slowly. One even finds young priests who think that, when they are with the laity, their role should be one of teaching and that they alone should do the talking. They find themselves ill at ease when persons are not disposed to listen to them first of all. Others still think that they must do everything themselves~determine the place, day, and hour of the meetings and issue the announcements. Again they feel discomforted when a group of active Christians organize everything without them and then come to invite them. We are living in an age of transformation. The older attitude with its way of doing things is gradually giving way. But some priests still retain the older attitudes and do not conceive the possibility of allowing the laity to act. On the other hand, many of the laity retain a purely passive conception of their role; not only do they leave everything to the priest, but they will do nothing if they are asked to take over a work. "Adult" lay persons (of whom I have been speaking) and priests adapted to such are still but few in number. Nevertheless, when one compares today with the be-ginning of the century, the transformation is unmistak-able. The essential thing is that this evolution continue and that the priest should more and more return to. the spiritual; that is, to the domain that belongs to him. But is "return" the correct word? He should rather aspire to it. But man is material, and the older conception gives satisfaction to a kind of unconscious materialism. Collaboration Formerly, one spoke only of authority and obedience. The faithful should obey, and nothing else was asked of them. Today, however, as we have seen, they are asked to think and to act for themselves. The meetings of active Christians have as their purpose a united program to enable the realization of the Christian ideal in the actual circumstances of life. Accordingly, the pri~est.is, no longer '~oncerned only with teaching; he listens and he invites the faithful to make their own personal contribution. This can be seen even in the matter of worship; the Mass has ceased to be a sacrifice offered by the priest alone at an altar distant from the people and in front of a congregation uncon-cerned with what he is doing, Now the Mass has become the community sacrifice offered by the priest an'd the faithful together, the priest being the spokesman of the community, the representative of the Church and of Christ, the celebrant of a sacrifice which belongs to the entire community. This is a profoundly changed state of affairs. Priests and laity act together. The Church is a single body and all of its members are active. This is a true resurrection. And by this very fact the priest has been strikingly ennobled, for he is no longer limited to being the shep-herd of a passive flock but has become instead the ani-mator of an active community. This change is to be found on all levels of the Church. The last and highest is that at the very center of the ChurCh, the See of Rome. Vati-can Council II gives witness to this transformation; and it is clear how John XXIII envisages the matter. His man-ner is not one like this: "Let the bishops say what they want, I shall do only what I want"; rather, his attitude is this: "I am deeply concerned to know the opinions of the bishops in order that I may take their advice into account." No one can derive from this the impression that pontifical power has thereby been lessened; but every-one does get the impression that the. Church forms one living body, animated by a movement of the whole. The role of the clergy is essential for the Church. When Catholicism is compared with Protestantism and with Orthodoxy, this role of the clergy is one of the most striking characteristics of the Church. Perhaps this ex-plains the retreat of the laity after the Reformation which placed the clergy in the background and in many cases even suppressed the priesthood and the ecclesiastical hierarchy. Now, however, the Church has recovered from this crisis; Christian life is now developing in its com-plete totality. Henceforth the Church will no longer be divided into the active Church composed of the clergy and the passive Church composed of the laity. The Church is a body ÷ ÷ ÷ The Priest Today VOLUME 22, 1963 ]63 ÷ ÷ ÷ Jacqo, es REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS I6,t of priests and laity together, living together, thinking together, acting together. As Cardinal Suhard put it: "The true achiever of evangelization is not the simple faithful nor the priest by himself; it is the Christian com-munity." The laity are fulfilling their role; the priest turn is free to be himself. Spiritual Counselor The direction of conscience has enjoyed a large place in the modern Church; it has been one of the principal instruments in the formation of a Christian elite. Never-theless, it has been especially concerned with women. When one reads the letters of the great spiritual directors, it is seen that they have been addressed almost exclusively to women. These women belonged to the higher levels of society. Today, however, as a result of the general spread of education and of the rise of active Christians, those who are concerned with the spiritual life are becoming more numerous and are to be found at all levels; they are found among workers and in the country as well as among the intellectuals. If it is necessary to practice direction of souls as it was formerly conceived, the clergy will be un-able to cope with it. But here once more, does not the spirit of collabora-tion profoundly transform conditions? Christians gather together with a priest to reflect on their Christian life; together they confront most of the questions that were formerly treated by individual conferences between the director and his spiritual child. In these conferences those seeking direction used to speak to their director not only of their interior life but of everything that con-cerned themselves. They asked their director's advice with regard to their relations with their husbands, with their children, and with their friends. They discussed the amount of freedom to be given their children, the amount of money to be given them, their clothes, companions, activities. Now all this is discussed in groups and in a way that is far more effective. Formerly, the person seeking direction would describe a situation to the director and he would decide the matter. The one consulting would act as though the director were omniscient, and he in turn would decide everything as though in fact he were. It was even taught as a received doctrine that the word of the director, was the word of God, that the director had the required graces of state, and that one should obey him blindly. Now it is realized that this was a false mystique, foreign to the Christian doctrine of the Incarnation; neverthe-less, it formed a coherent system. Christians concerned with the exigencies o[ morality would consult their con[essor on the matter o[ all their reading. No priest, however, can be acquainted with everything that is being published. The con[essor, i[ he believed himsel[ obliged to answer--and [ormerly the majority believed themsel~ces so obliged h~d~0 answer by guessing or had to make use o[ a systematic severity in order to avoid all risk o[ danger . And thereby/ other dangers were [allen into. From another viewpoint, there were husbands who op-posed the idea o[ their wives having a director o[ con-science on the grounds that they did not want between themselves and their wives a secret authority which the latter obeyed absolutely. Moreover, the women who con-suhed a director were usually women who were not mar-ried or who were unhappily married. This meant that spiritual direction had mixed in with it a purely human desire [or masculine support, and this in a proportion that is difficult to determine. All this has passed, and we have arrived at a much sounder state o[ affairs. All the matters that we have men-tioned are taken up today in groups. In [amily groups there are discussed today the problems o[ conjugal intimacy, o[ prayer in common, and the prayer o[ each o[ the spouses. In all kinds o[ groups, there is discussion o[ diversions, o[ entertainments, o[ reading, o[ the time to be given to recreation and to apostolic work, and o[ the problems o[ pro[essional li[e. Since the dil~erent kinds o[ groups are highly diversified, the questions that are confronted also differ greatly; nevertheless, the great part of matters that were [ormerly treated by individual direction is now considered by groups, each member con-tributing the results o[ his own experience; the priest has only to contribute his own element. The result is that while the number o[ Christians de-sirous o[ a Christian life that will dominate their entire existence is growing, the number of those who want direction o[ conscience in the individualistic sense of former times is diminishing. Even the phrase "spiritual director" is vanishing; the expression tod~y is that of "spiritual counselor." Everything is simplified; every-thing is developed in an atmosphere of collaboration that befits adult li[e. Hence, [or example, when a [amily group discusses the liberty to be given to children o[ different ages or the amount of money to be given them, solutions are reached that are more balanced and more realistic than those [ormerly obtained when the one consulting was limited to accepting the word of a director who was a stranger to the li[e o[ the [amily. Some Christians, however, still have recourse to a spiritual director after the older method, but they are The Pr~st ToOa~y VOLUME 22, 1963 165 ]~que, Leclegcq REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in general those who are slow to be caught up by the strong current that is sweeping through the Church and reanimating Christian life. Unfortunately they are still numerous, for a great many Christians as well as a great many priests remain immobilized in older conceptions. The movement that stresses the laity touches only a cer-tain sector and certain levels of the population. There are even entire regions where it is unknown. We are seeking here to emphasize the signs of this renewal, for we are sure that it is in this renewal that the future of the Church lies. That which is merely a prolongation of the past will fall as the world progresses. Undoubtedly, there will always remain certain ele-ments of the old direction of conscience, certain needs (more or less occasional) that will require personal, in-dividual contacts. In most of these cases confession will be sufficient. It is impossible to predict what will eventu-ally happen, but it is clear that everything is being sim-plified as the Christian animation of life grows. The Word Today much consideration is given to the ministry of the word; this again is a reaction against the past. Formerly, it was taken for granted that society was Christian. Children were instructed in religion, but no attention was paid to adults. Certain traditions, peri-odically restated by councils, obliged to a preaching directed to the instruction of the people; but actual practice had stifled the rule. One has only to recall what the state was of the ministry of the word. Now the word lives again; the most significant sign of this rebirth is undoubtedly retreats. The development of the spiritual life of active Christians has been accom-panied by the multiplication of retreats and periods of recollection. These have become so numerous that or~e can speak accurately in this connection in terms of a spiritual explosion. Retreats and days of recollection are organized in every walk of life: workers, business men, engineers, physicians, young persons of every category. Every time a group with a spiritual character is founded, retreats are organized. At the very time I am writing these lines, I have before me the bulletin of the Association of House-keepers for Priests, an organization that exists in France and Belgium; they, too, organize retreats and days of recollection. Moreover, undifferentiated retreats are also multiplying; these are directed towards all Christians and include without distinction both men and women, priests and laity. Once more we can note that formerly there were some retreat houses maintained by the Jesuits who pioneered them and by convents of women imbued by the Jesuit spirit; there was also a small number of persons who went to these houses for retreats. Today it is an immense move-ment. There are parishes which have retreat leagues com-posed of persons who make a retreat each- y.ear. In certain regions these leagues are systematically organized; in cer-tain dioceses of The Netherlands they are a regular insti-tution of every parish. And I am not speaking now of women, for women retreatants are even more numerous. Hence it is not a matter for astonishment that retreat houses are constantly being opened everywhere and that there are always too few of them. Rooms must generally be reserved in advance; and it can happen that a retreat must be canceled for lack of an available retreat house. But there is also need for priests. Preaching is par excellence a priestly duty. At the present moment the number of priests conducting retreats is legion. Formerly retreats were largely reserved to certain religious orders; but now many diocesan priests (pastors, chaplains, teach-ers) give them. Nevertheless, the number of retreat masters is still not sut~ciently large. As a general rule, it is very easy to find retreatants; retreat houses are more difficult to find; but hardest of all to find are priests. At the beginning of these articles, I recalled those who asked what was left for a priest to do now that there are active lay persons; the answer is that priests are needed for things that are genuinely priestlyl The Christian people have a hunger and thirst for the word of God, and those who can dispense it to them are not numerous enough. This is a matter of the priestly ministry par excellence. The tendency of today's priest is to occupy himself by preference in such ministries, for he feels himself the apostle of Christ in the strongest sense of that term; and he prefers to leave to lay persons the care of administra-tion. I have known a pastor who had to build a church; he appointed a committee of lay persons to raise the money while he himself conducted retreats. Perhaps the building of the church progressed a little more slowly than it would have had he devoted all his time to raising money, but he was at work shaping souls. All this also supposes a transformation in the clergy; for the majority of older priests, administrators of parishes, teachers of profane subjects, have been completely held back from conducting retreats. If they left this matter to religious, this was not without good reason. Today the importance of religious has not diminished, but retreat masters now come from every ecclesiastical sector. The Priest Today VOLUME 22, 167 $acques Leclercq REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 168 Collaboration Once More Together with divine worship, preaching is un-doubtedly the chief priestly activity; and yet even here there is to be found an interchange of priests and laity. Retreats differ greatly. In some the retreatants are plunged into an absolute silence; the director gives them talks throughout the entire day. In this case the renewal of Christian life is marked by the radical character of the retreat--more contemplative, more silent than could have been borne before. But there are also retreats where with-out any lessened preoccupation with the spiritual an hour a day is reserved for an exchange of views; in this period each one can present his problems as he discerns them in the particular situation in which he finds himself. Persons of an older form of mind find it indiscreet to expose one's state of soul to the whole world. Formerly in a retreat one listened to the director who was the only one to speak; then purely profane recreation pe-riods were had, and the retreatants who desired it could consult the retreat master personally and individually. Often retreatants would bring up the same questions; the retreat master would always give the same answer. In general, the matters discussed were such that there was no compelling reason to keep them secret; hence it often happened that the retreatants told each other what the re-treat master had told them. Today all this is treated in a community session; every-one profits by it, and it produces a community spirit in the group. The retreatants feels themselves engaged in a common work. The divine life in us, our work for the service of God, are problems that interest all Of us to-gether. We no longer go to heaven alone; we go there with our brethren; indeed it is impossible to go there alone, for we depend on those who surround us. The king-dom of God is a community enterprise to which we belong and which we ought to undertake together. Even a re-treat is a community enterprise. In addition to this, it is now customary to have lay persons speak during a retreat. Retreats are par excellence a priestly work; nevertheless, it does happen that a layman is invited to speak of an aspect ofthe Christian life which he knows. One of my friends was invited by a teacher to speak to his students during the retreat at the end of their studies; the subject was the role of the Christian in the world; after the talk the teacher told him: "It does them much more good to hear all this from a layman." Likewise lay persons are invited to speak in seminaries. In a Canadian magazine I found a letter from Rome con-cerned with the matter expressed by Cardinal Sali~ge as "making use of the layman." The correspondent described how some theological students in Rome had invited a father of a family to speak to them of his Christian life. ¯. Montreal, Rome, Toulouse, and now this article which is to appear in Brussels and Buenos Aires--the problems are everywhere the same. Lay persons are eve~:ywher~e.;,~so also are,priests. They are together, shoulder to'~hourder. We cannot do without the one more than the other. What About the Others? The reader will have noticed that the lay persons dis-cussed here are the active la!ty who have grown into Christian maturity. What has been said is concerned only with the activity of a priest in relationship to such laymen. But what about the others--who compose the vast major-ity of men? Clearly, the groups of which we have spoken, the aware-ness of the exigencies of Christian life, and the giving of retreats are giving to Christians a shape and a form very different from that which they previously had. As we have already remarked, we are seeing a new Christian people appearing. But if these Christians remain among them-selves and if the clergy is concerned only with them, what changes will there be in the world as a whole? Whatever else may be said about this problem, it is true that they will always be there in the world. They are not isolated from the world: they are shopkeepers with a neighborhood store; they are factory workers and en-gineers; they are white-collared workers; they are physi-cians and druggists. They are everywhere. They come to-gether to arouse their Christian awareness; but afterwards they disperse and return to the mass. This is a slow work which one can judge only over long intervals. One can see, for example, that the position of Catholic literature in the world is today far different from what it was a hundred years ago. The same can be said for the position of Catholics in philosophy, in art, in politics. This is true, someone may say; but this is only a matter of a few leaders. To this I would answer that the remark is true; but every leader supposes a body of followers. If Catholic writers and artists today show both a talent and a conformity to the aspirations of the times which were not shown a hundred years ago, then this has happened be-cause the environment must have changed. And it is the same if Catholic philosophers are able to speak to the men of today. Such persons are perhaps the flower of Christianity; but the flower supposes the stem, and the stem in turn supposes the root. If I am the root, I need not be humiliated by the 4. 4. 4. The Priest Today VOLUME 2Z, ~.963 169 ÷ ÷ ÷ Jacques Leclercq REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS fact that I am not seen; it is owing to me that the flower can charm the eye. The position of the Church in the world is, then, pro-roundly changed. And in the examples given above, it will be noted that this transformation has been achieved by lay persons. Writers like Claudel, Chesterton, Bernanos, Ger-trud yon le Fort have undoubtedly done more to attract men to Catholicism than any theologian and perhaps more even than any priest. But they have been in relation with a priest. In short, the role of the priest is exercised on the interior of the Church, on those who are united in the Church; it is these latter who thereupon go out to speak to the world. At times the complaint is heard ~that Christians barri-cade themselves within a ghetto, living by themselves without contact with the outside. The complaint is well founded; if they dose themselves up with each other, the salt will not be able to give its flavor. And it is true that there is a dangerous exclusivism, a fear of leaving a Christian background. This fear is a debilitating thing, for of all the emotions fear is the one that is most debasing. The spreading of ideas, and especially the Christian spreading of ideas, is done by the osmosis of personal con-tact; it is to be noted, however, that this notion of per-sonal contact is a wide one extending to the books that are read and the films that are seen. The action of Chris-tianity proceeds from the fact that the Christian environ-ment reflects Christ. A great many who were born and raised Christian turn from Christianity because they do not find Christ in the Christianity which has been pre-sented to them. What they need is for active Christians to give them an exact image of Christianity. Others, also educated as Christians, turn from Christianity when they perceive the demands it makes on them. The Church loses nothing when such quit her, for they discredit her in the measure that they are believed to represent her. This is the case with cei'tain governments which declare them-selves Catholic. This, then, is a question of the large numbers of Chris-tians who are lukewarm and indifferent. But there is an-other group, larger still, those who are not Christian:; at all. Among these the seed must be sown. Here, too, the role of the priest is essential. Father Vinatur in the text cited above remarked that the priest is a founder. It is true; Christianity is founded only by a priest. This is seen from the very beginning; in the Acts of the Apostles there is related the ministry of St. Paul; he is seen taking up his residence in a city, making some converts, and then leaving when Christianity has been set up and a member of the community--the priest--has been established as head. This is a permanent condition of things. Active lay persons can prepare the soil; they can arouse sympa-thetic interest; but a Christian community is.formed only when a priest comes. This.i~ true on all, levels of the Church. When Catholid Action was constituted with its appeal to assume a genuinely religious activity, it was priests who took the initiative in the matter. So also when the family movement was founded to concern itself with the Christian life of married persons, it was begun by priests. Lay persons came afterwards; in a certain sense, they ended by doing everything. But the priest remains, and he will never be able to be dispensed with. This, then, is the design of the new Church, animated by a Christian life which has not been known since early times, a Church of Christians all sharing in the life and action of Christ. This Church is but sketched in the reality before us at the present time; but this sketch is the image of what is being formed. The confidence which we can have for the future comes from the fact that Christ is living in this Church in a way that He has not since her early centuries. ÷ ÷ The Priest Today VOLUME 22, 196,~ 171 LADISLAS M. ORSY, S.J. From Meditation to Contemplation ÷ ÷ ÷ Ladislas M. Orsy, S.J., is professor of canon law at the Gregorian Univer-sity; Piazza della Pilotta, 4; Rome, Italy. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS The aim of this article is both practical and doctrinal: it is to give practical help for the difficult period of tran-sition from meditation to contemplation and to show the theological background of the change that takes place in the soul. Meditation in these pages means prayer with the help of concepts, images, and more or less enforced acts of will. Contemplation means silence before God, prayer in which the soul is transformed under God's powerful ac-tion. In meditation the accent is on activity, in contem-plation on passivity. In meditation the soul tries to reach God by thoughts, feelings, and desires; in contemplation God has reached the soul and works on it without thoughts, feelings, or desires. In meditation the soul fights its way towards God; in contemplation it should stand before God in poverty. Passivity and poverty are then the foundations for a new type of activity and for new riches that have their source in God's powerful ac-tion. Such a deep change in prayer affects the whole man: it is a change in personality. It is not without difficulties; Saint Teresa remarks that there is no time in the spirit-ual life when it is so easy to give up prayer altogether as the time when contemplation begins. God's Work in the Soul God is eternally present in the soul: it is His presence that gives it life and being, it is His presence that sancti-fies it. He is not only present, He is working in the soul, infusing light and love into our mind and love into our will power. His final aim is to take possession of our person so that we should be united to Him and be His adopted children for an eternity. God is eternally present in the soul. He was there since the moment of our creation; but at the moment of our baptism He came again, not in majesty but as a good friend, and made our soul His own dwelling house where He likes to remain. He brought sanctity and holiness with Him and transformed the soul. As when fire is made in a cold and dark r0on~ ~th~ place be~ome~ ~¢arm and full of light, so when God comes into the soul it is filled with warmth and light. It is clothed with immortality, it belongs to God's family, in a way it becomes divine. The new life the soul receives is called sanctifying grace, the new light in the mind faith, and the infused love in the will power hope and charity. They are all fruits of the presence of God; should He leave the soul, there would be dark and cold again. God works in the soul. There is not one moment of rest for Him. He is supremely good and happy, and He wants to share His rich goodness and happiness with others. Consequently, His sanctifying presence is in fact a work of continuous sanctification. Light and love are given to mind and will in abundance: light that we may see and better understand things divine,-.love that we may go towards God at a better pace. This action of God is peaceful and quiet: He does not like noise and agitation. It is this action that ought to be the source of all our thoughts and deeds; unless they proceed from God they will be empty and they will not bear any fruit for eternal life. God's aim is to take possession of our person. He is not satisfied with partial sanctification of His family. He wants to bring them into the very centre of His own life where the Father and the Son and the Spirit are one and where They know and love each other without end. To say that one does not want to be more than an ordinary good Christian (meaning by it that one does not want to be perfect) is to betray a lack of generosity and to show a great ignorance of God's intention who wants all His children to grow continuously and reach their full maturity in Christ. The extent of the necessary trans-formation is indicated by the distance (which each one easily realizes for himself) between God's purity and our impurity, between His charity and our own obscurity. Nevertheless, it is this complete transformation that is God's aim and nothing less. He has the means to achieve it: by the gentle action of His love in this world and by Purgatory in the other. No person who wants to see God can escape this cleansing process; and those who are generous will want to get through it soon, if possible, in this life. Such desire is not a presumption: it is no more than conforming our will to God's will. 4. 4. 4. Meditation to Contemplation VOLUME 22, 196~ 173 4. 4. 4. L. M.'Or~y, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]74 Meditation When God comes into the soul of man and wants to sanctify him, He encounters a great obstacle which is man's fallen nature with all that it entails: sin, attach-ment to worldly things, false judgments, and selbwill as hard as steel. Purification is necessary. It is mainly done by God, but man has his part in it as well. Meditation is one of the first steps in this cleansing process. Man has heard the voice of God and wants to obey Him and be near Him. But man's mind is not clear and clean enough to perceive the light that comes from God living in his soul, his will is not sensitive enough follow the inspirations of grace. It is literally embedded in mortal and perishing things, it is ruled not by God but by the senses. Training is necessary for both mind and will in order to lift them from the visible into the in-visible, from the tangible into the intangible, from the sensitive into the spiritual. Part of this training is what we call meditation. The mind has to be trained. It should be a training in divine truth so that our thoughts, ideas, judgments correspond to those of God and thus that the two minds be united as far as possible into one. This training is done by the soul in an active and discursive way when it meditates on the words of our Lord, on the mysteries of His life, on the Church. What the person does is to fill his mind with God's thoughts instead of his own. He is really trying to m~ike his mind a better instrument for the perception of God's inspirations, an instrument more adapted to receive God's light. It is a tuning-up or warm-ing- up process. The mind is bathed in the divine truth so that it may become divine. This is done in an active way, by reasoning, by considering the call of Christ our Lord or God's beauty in nature, or by imagining the Holy Family. Man is working his way towards God. The will has to be trained as well. The attraction of things eternal is fine and delicate, and our selfish will does not easily notice it. In order to become more sensi-tive to the action of grace, the selfishness of our nature and of our will in particular ought to be broken by con-tinuous exercise in mortification. The aim is that our will should become soft and flexible, attached to nothing, so that it may follow the will of God in everything. To attain that aim, one has to work hard and in an active way. One has to do penance, one has to give up many things, many of his likings, one has to be humble; and there is no dispensation from this work. Since the mind and will are active, activity predomi-nates at this stage of the spiritual life. But sometimes it may happen that a longing awakens in the soul after God Himself, a desire to meet the living God without any human speech, image, or idea. Words and pictures are created things; they do not satisfy the soul that has been created to see God face to face. The desire to meet God without passing through created images all the time may be a sign of better things to come. Transition Thoughts, perception, and feelings are all created things. If we are called to union with God, there must be a moment when they have to disappear since no hu-man person can be satisfied with looking at the picture of somebody he loves when personal contact is possible. Besides~ those acts may fulfill their purpose in the puri-fication of mind and will. Their nature being limited, their efficacy is limited too. I can penetrate the mind of God to a certain extent by meditating on the Gospel; I can follow the will of God to a great extent by trying to do what I think the best. But neither my meditations nor my good deeds have the power to cleanse my soul so well that I may truly say that God has taken possession of me and that I am no more than an instrument in His hand. The true cleansing is reserved to God. It is He who transforms the soul by infusing light and love into it in a more than ordinary measure; it is that light and love that sanctify and purify the whole man. 1. External Signs. The first sign to indicate that a per-son might have a "vocation" to contemplative prayer is that he does not find any more "taste" in meditation: he does not enjoy it any more in the best and spiritual sense of the word. Before, he was able to collect a great va-riety of fruit in his meditation: words and images paci-fied his soul and helped him to formulate good resolu-tions. Now he finds that his meditation is more like a dried-up fountain which does not contain fresh water. But not to have any "taste" in meditation is a purely negative sign: it might well be the indication of careless-ness or of drifting towards the world. Hence, a more posivite sign is needed to confirm that it is God who brought about the change. The positive sign will be a deep longing in the soul for God and a sincere desire to follow Christ our Lord in everything and to be con-formed to His image. A sincere desire that is manifest in deeds. The loss of "taste" in meditation and the longing for God are always coupled with a turning away from this created world. This loss of interest in created things, even if they are very good in themselves, is the third sign; and it is a natural consequence of what has taken place: 4. 4. Meditation to Contemplation VOLUME 22, 1963 ]75 ÷ 4. 4- when the soul is not satisfied any more with created con-cepts in its prayer, it cannot be satisfied with created things either. The change may be astonishing for the person concerned: he used to enjoy music and art, litera-ture and human company, and now he notices that they all leave him dry and empty. When all these signs are found together, loss of "taste" in meditation after it has been practiced for a fairly long time (which may vary from person to person), longing for God in solitude (the longing being confirmed by solid virtues in practice), and the consequent loss of good and legitimate pleasure in created things, then the person concerned may have the vocation to a simpler form of prayer. If these signs are not there, any attempt to leave be-hind meditation and practice another form of prayer, namely the prayer of simplicity, may be poisonous for the soul; it may weaken its spiritual life and it may even ruin the soul altogether. 2. An Explanation. The signs just described are ex-ternal, but what is happening internally in the soul? What is it that brought the change about? The answer is that gradually and in a hidden way God is taking possession of the soul and its facilities. As mind and will have been purified to a reasonable degree, though by no means perfectly, God's work on them~be-comes more intense. Light and love are being given in a larger measure than ever before, and the hand of God begins to shape the new man, the new creature of St. Paul, out of the old. It is as if the hand of God had touched the soul from behind and in the dark. The soul recognised the touch instinctively but could not see the person. It turned away from all creatures, whether con-cepts, images in prayer, or works of art, and conceived a longing for its Maker and Creator. Hence the loss of "taste" in meditation, longing for God, and the feeling of emptiness in the presence of created objects. God comes near enough to awaken a deep desire in the soul but not near enough to let the soul perceive something of God's beauty. It follows that for a while (and it may be a very long while) one may remain in the dark: all consolation from this world is lost, but no sen-sible consolation from the other world is coming. Per-haps it would be truer to say that though the heart is pure enough to feel the obscure touch of God, as yet it: is not able to receive the light in its fullness because of the many impurities that it still has. The result is darkness; and if one does not know what is happening it is easy to lose confidence and even to give up prayer altogether. In truth, it is a time of grace for the soul. 3. Some Practical Advice. If the signs for contempla-tion are there, it would not be wise to force oneself to make meditations in a strict and methodical form. One cannot turn the clock back, not even in the spiritual life. The time of predominantly active prayer, is over; now one has to learn how to~follow~the lead The first step towards more passivity should be the simplification of prayer. Intellectual considerations dur-ing prayer time should be left out as much as possible. Their place should be taken by simple acts of faith, hope, and love, which are the beginning of any prayer and the fruit of the best of prayers. The soul should .learn how to come back to the same idea again and again and find peace, joy, and "taste" in it. Also there should be a tend-ency towards greater receptivity, but with prudence and wisdom. God likes to take His time; He likes to build slowly and gradually. Our duty is to follow the move-ments of His grace: we should not try to go any faster than He wants us to go nor should we lag behind. The adaptation to this new way of life in which it is God who holds the initiative is bound to be a long process. It is not an exaggeration to say that it is a change in our personality. It is bound to affect everything in our life, our way of thinking, working, and our relations with other persons. A likeness to Christ our Lord is being formed in us. After the initial difficulties a long period of peaceful development may ensue. Prayer will be a mixture of ac-tivity and passivity; but if the soul is faithful, it may reach the stage in which the main rule is passivity. A passivity that leads to a readiness to do the will of God and to a very practical love of God and our neighbour. One final remark is necess
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Review for Religious - Issue 02.2 (March 1943)
Issue 2.2 of the Review for Religious, 1943. ; A. M. D. G. Review for Religious MARCH 15, 1943 "Prudent Use Of Confession Privilecjes ¯ . . The Editors T,heParticular Examen . Timothy Brosnahan '-Hi~ldeh Saint of NaZareth ,. Matthew Germlng Mani~esta÷ion of Conscience . Adam C. Ellis Divine Priestly Vocation . James T. Meehan Recommended Spiritual Books ¯ ¯ . Adgustine Klaas ; Communications Book Reviews Oues+ions Answered Decision~ of the HOI~ See VOLUME II NUMBER 2 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS VOLUME II MARCH, 1.5, 1943 NUMBER CONTENTS THE PRUDENT USE OF CONFESSION PRIVILEGES--The Editors74 SOME NOTES ON THE PARTICULAR EXAMEN-- Timothy Brosnahan, $.J . , 85 BOOKS RECEIVED . : . 90 HIDDEN SAINT OF NAZARETH~Matthew ~3erming. S~J .91 SUPERIORS AND MANIFESTATION OF CONSCIENCE-- Adam C. Ellis, SJ . 101 THE DIVINE PRIESTLY VOCATION--2ames T. Meehan, $.J. 109 RECOMMENDED SPIRITUAL BOOKS--Augustine Klaas. S.~J. 117 COMMUNICATIONS (On Spiritual Direction) .123 BOOK REVIEWS (Edited by Clement DeMuth, $.J.)-- Soul Clinic; Chapters in Religion: A Short Breviary for Religious and the Laity: The Our Father: The Spiritual Direction of Sisters; A Book of Simple Words: The Pater Noster of Saint Teresa; Ten Blessed Years: Happy Hours with Christ: Hope of Life; These Two Hands;-The Way of the Blessed Christ: The March to Liberation; Maryknoll Mis-sion Letters; Mary of the Magnificat; Praying with. the Povetello; The. Commonwealth ~ of Nations and the Papacy . 130-139 DECISIONS OF THE HOLY SEE . ~ . 140 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-~ 8. Questions in Confessional after Absolution . 141 9. Manifesting Community Difficulties to Confessor . 141 10. Differefice between Permission and Dispensation . 142 11. Power of Blessing Beads with Crosier Indulgence . 143 12. Studi.es during Canonical Year . : . . . 143 13. Superior's Obligation to Mail Letters .143 14. Use of Convent Chapel for Portiuncula Indulgence . 144 15. Genuflecting when Blessed Sacrament is Exposed . 144 16. Genuflecting before Holy Communion .144 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, March, 1.945. Vol. II. No. 2. Published bi-monthly: January, March, May. 3uly, September, and November, at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter ,January 15, 19420 at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.2., G. Augustine Ellard, SJ., Gerald Kelly, S.'j. Copyright, 1943. by Adam C. Ellis. Permission is hereby granted for quotations of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this ~eview and the author. Subscription price: 2 dollars a year. Printed in U. S. A. The Prudent Use ' ot: Con[ession Privileges The Editors WHtiEoNn, wwee cinointifainteedd tohuer dOiswcun srseimona rokfs s tpoi rdiitrueaclt idoinre bcy-the ordinary confessor. As a matter of fact, the Code of Canon Law grants to .religious many privileges of confessing, under certain circumstances, to other _priests. Some of our readers have suggested that, before concluding the discussion on spiritual direction, we should explain the prudent use of these privileges according to the mind of the Church. The suggestion appears very practical. Since the pub-lication of the Code, much has been written in explanation of the meaning and extent of these privileges; but compara-tively little has been said about their prudent use. For the sake of clarity, we shall firgt consider the confessors of Sis-ters, then apply our remarks, with the needed qualifica-~ tions, to the confessors of religious men. ¯The Ordinary Confessor The. conc.ept of the. ordinary confessor of Sisters. according to the mind of the Church, is a basic one to this entire subject. He. is not to be a mere confessor, This expression might sound shocking, if taken out of its con-text. Penance is a Sacrament; and as a Sacrament it is pro-ductive of graces which in themselves are more fruitful for the human soul than is spiritual counsel. And the greatest' work that a priest does in the confessional is to give abso-lution. There should be no mistake about that point; the sacramental value of absolution should never be placed be- 74 USE OF CONFESSION PRIVILEGES low spiritual advice, ~nd the first purpose of every penitent should be to perfect his disposition for the fruitful r~ceptic;n of the Sacrament. BUt religious are not ordinary penitents. They belong to-the spiritual elite of the Church. They are supposed to strive after perfection; and, they are entitled to the means conducive to p~erfection. One,of these means is the oppor-tunity of having expert spiritual guidance. True, to some extent this guidance is embodied in their rule, for .the rule contains the plan of a perfect life. Also, guidance is fre-quently available through their superiors. Despite these helps; however, all will experience, at least at times, the need of counsel that only a priest can give. It is the mind of the Church that in each community of Sisters, this priestly counsel should be given normally by the ordinary confessor. In making this legislation, the Church intends to provide the Sisters with direction that is capable, consistent, and uniform. It should be capable, because of their special position in the Church.; it should be consistent, because this is generally needed for progress; and it should be at least relatively uniform because of their uni-form manner of life, and because in their communities they live in very ~lose contact, and great differencesof direction could make for disagreeable situations.° Such is the ideal. It is not always realized in practice. Eccldsiastical superiors have no special charism that pre-vents them from making mistakes in their appointments: and at times they must appoint ordinary confessors who they. realize do not measure up. perfectly to the canonical standards. Like the rest of us, they cannot give what they do not hard. In these situatioris the Sisters must be both fair-minded and patient. If possible, they can avail them-selves of the other privileges given by canon la~; when this i~ impossible, they have every r~ason to trust in God. 75 THE EDITORS Extraord[nar'g and Retreat Confessors The Church also prescribes that Sisters have an extra-o~ dinary confessor, and a practically universal custom pro-vides yet anoth'~ confessor at the time of retreat.-. It may be well to consider just what use the Sisters are expected to make ofthese opportunities. Regarding the extraordinary confesssor, it id .not expected that everyone wilt wish his. advice, nor should be expected that he will volunteer direction to all. He given to all to safeguard the opportunity of .the few who may need his help. In a community .in which all find the ordinary confessor satisfactory, the work of the extraor-dinary could well be limited to hearing the 'confessions anal. giving absolution. The pru. dent use of the opportunity of consulting the retreat confessor is a subject as difficult as it is delicate. Let us begin by stating that some Sisters need this opportunity.° very much. They may have been in a small community all ye~ir, without an ordinary or extraordinary confessor in whom they had confidence and with relatively01ittle oppor-tunity of p~:ofiting by the various privilegCs accorded by canon law. Perhaps many problems have a~cumulated: perhaps, too, if they do not get help during the retreat in planning for the future, then they will never get.tit. Sisters belonging to this class should feel perfectly free to discuss .-their problems and plans with the retreat confessor; and he, on his part, should be quite willing to give all the time and help he can. The.case is different with the Sisters who have a good ordinary confessor during the year. All other things being equal, his-guidance should be sought in preference to that of the retreat confessor. The Siiters may say, of course, that at time of retreat they make a "yearly review"; but does this review necessarily bring ~up new problems? Or 7'6 USE OF CONFESSION PRIVILEGES again, they may say that during retreat the~ must plan f6r the future, and that in this planning they will need some guidance. This is true, but it can be overdone. They might discuss the general notion of this plan with their ordinary ¯ confessor before ~hey leave¯ for retreat. Unless the retreat is marked by very special inspira, tions, one can usual!y predict ahead of time along what line one is going to need a reno-vation Of spirit. Furthermore, when the plan is made, if one ¯wishes approbation for it, is it not better to.get th~ approbation from the priest who knows one and is to guide one in the keeping of it rather than from a priest one may never see again? Special Confessor or Director The foregoing are the confessional opportunities regu-larly provided for all. Many will find them sufficient for their needs and.ideals. Yet, there will always be a few who will need the habitual help of another priest, and many "who will rightly desire the opportunity of occasionally going tO another. The Church has provided for both kinds of exceptions to the general rule; and we can consider now the right use of these exceptional privileges. Roughly speaking, those Sisters who wish the habitual help of another confessor may be divided into two classes ¯ that can be exemplified as follows. Sister A does not wish to go to the ordinary confessor at all; she wants a substitute confessor for herself. Sister B is willing to confess to the. ordin~iry confessor at the .customary times; but she also wishes to go to confession periodically (say every week or ¯ every month) to another pr~iest. To the ordinary, Sister B. merely makes her confession; with the second priest, she discusses her spiritual life more in detail._ In other words, Sister B wants an extra confessor, who is to serve mainly as her spiritual adviser. Cases like these, though exceptio, ns to the general rule, 77 THE EDITORS are not to be branded as "singularities."" Considering the wid~ differences: of human temperament and hi, man needs, it is not surprising that even an excellent ordinary confessor will not satisfy everybody. The Code (in canon 520 § 2). takes cognizance of these diversities, by instructing the local Ordinary to be gracious in granting the request of such Sis-ters when they ask for a special confessor or director. In making this wise provision, the Church is not cater- ~n.g to the mere whim or caprice of the Sisters. The latter are to have a serious supernatoral reason for making their request. "In general, these reasons may be summed up as follo.ws: the Sister finds it extraordinarily difficult to mani-fest her consciende sincerely to the ordina~ry confessor, or she honestly judges that it would be to the greater good of her soul to have another confessor or director. The law pre-sumes that the Sisters give the ordinary confessor a fair trial before requesting another confessor or director. The canon law does not authorize the Sister to appoint her own~ special confessor or diiector. The appointment ¯ should come from the local Ordinary, upon her request. The request itself might take one of these two forms. The Sister might merely ask for the special confessor or director and leave the choice to the local Ordinary; or she might havea definite priest in mind and ask for him. In the sec-ondcase she is not fJ~ee from personal responsibility in making the choice. Naturally, the Ordinary Would not approve the choice if he knew the man to be incapable of fulfilling the office, but on the other hand, he is not alw.ays able to discern the hidden motives that might lie behind such a request. The Sister herself must judge that the choice is really for her spiritual good. Extra-confessional Director What of the Sister who makes her confession to the 78 USE OF CONFESSION PRIVILEGES ordinary confessor, but who wishes periodically to discuss the affairs of her soul with another priest, outside the con-fessional? Note that this case is different from that of Si~ter B, previously outlined: Sister B wanted direction in con-fession; in the case we are now considering the, direction is entirely separated from the confdssional. A few eminent canonists think that, since the director in this case is not to serve as confessor to the Sister, the .case need not, strictly speaking, be referred to the local Ordinary. We do not share this opinion. We think that, since this. second priest is really to serve as the Sister's spiritual direc-tor, he should be appointed by the Ordinary. ¯ However, even those who, in a spec.ulative way, hold the more lenient view on this one point, admit that the case involves serious . difficulties and demands special safeguards. It is a generally recognized ascetical rule ~that the con-fessional is the proper place for the spiritual guidance .of women, This rule is not absolute. It admits" of excep-tions; and no doubt there a're cases in which a Sister can receive more apt guidance outside the confessional. But these exceptions are rare, and the dangers involved should be recognized. If the Church demands certain quaIities of virtue, prudence, and maturity of the ordinary confessor, with much greater reason would she demand them of an extra-confessional director. If there is danger of wasting time in the confessional, there is much greater, danger of doing so outside. If an inordinate personal attachment might arise even from the confession.al, there is much more danger of this when the safeguards of the confessional are abolished. We wish to be correctly understood in this matter. It is wrong to be constantly suspecting people; and much-harm has come to many earnest souls through rash suspicions and rumors. But it is foolish, and may be quite wrong, for Sis- THE EDITORS ters to cherish the notion that, simply because they wish to discuss their spiritual life, these meetings never involve danger. In this matter, a bit of self-suspicion at the begin-ning can save a great deal of self-reproach at the end. V~rl~atever may be said tl~eoretically about the need of the local Ordinary's.permission for this extra-confessional director, it is certain that no Sister could adopt the practice of meeting her self-chosen, extraZcor~fessional director with-out at least the permission of her owri superior. The supe-rior should weigh this question very carefully. In practice, she could seldom give a confident judgment without con-sulting the local Ordinary, especially when the parties fare young and the visits frequent. Occasional Cont:essors Ttie number of Sisters who desire a special confessor or direc~0r is comparatively small; the number of those who might want the opportunity of occasionally consulting another priest besides the ordinary confessor is rather large. To guarantee the latter as much liberty of conscience as pos- /sible, the canon law provides for supplementary and occa-sional confessors. The supplementary confessors are appointed by the local Ordinary, assigned to definite houses or groups of houses, and given the special jurisdiction required for . hea'ring the confessions of religious women. The religious are free to summon any one of these or the extraordinary confessor. Not mhch need be said concerning the prudent ¯ use of this privilege. Since the confessors are designated by. the Bishop himsdlf, it may be presumed that they will be capable men. The principal danger of abuse would come from the Sister herself, were she to call for them needlessly, or at a needlessly inopportune time, or pi~rhaps from an unreasonably long distance. 80 USE OF CONFESSION PRIVILEGES In a large city, the privilege offhd supplementary con-fessors may have much practical value; but in general rfiost Sisters will'find the very wide concession of canon 522 more useful. ¯ Canon 522 allows Sisters to take advantag~ of the opportunity of confessing to any priest approved in the diocese for the confessions of.wgmen. The priest need not have the special approbation necessary for the confessors Of Sisters. The canon does not give permission to leave the house or to set aside the order of the house or the prescrip-tions of rule; but it does allow the Sisters to take advaiatage of any legitimate opportunity of confessing when they are outside the house, as well as to a priest who happens to be visiting the convent, or even of calling a priest to the con.- vent. In all cases, .the confessionmust be made in a place which conforms with the legislat!on of the Church for hearing the confessions of women. One phrase in canon 522 calls for particular attention hi, re. This privilegeis accorded to the Sister for her "peace of conscience." This phrase has b~en discussed and redis-cussed by canonists. Authorities now commonly agree that any confession seriouslymade satisfies this demand, in so far as the law is concerned. But the spirit behind the law must be kept in mind when we ,are considering the prudent use of this pri;cilege. Evidently, in framing this law, the Church did not wish to do away with all the prescriptions and counsels that she had laid down for the proper direction of Sisters. Certainly she ¯ does not wish by this one canon to set aside the maxims of Sound Catholic asceticism; and ~most certainly she does not wish to justify a departure from the more basic and neces-sary principles of moral theology. From both the canonical and ascetical points of view it is a mistake for a Sister'to go to another confessor for advice 81 THE EDITORS or to confess things that riaturally call for advice, if her ordinary confessor would prove equally satisfactory. The difficulty proposed or the matter confessed may be the very thin.g that the ordinary .confessor should know in order to give her progressive and helpful direction. Of course, there are occasions when the ordinary is not available. If, on these occasions, the Sister consults another confessor, she will be acting according to a sound ascetical practice if she refers the matter later to her ordinary confessor. The mistakes made in the use of this privilege can vio-late not merely ascetical principles, but also certain basic principles of m~ral theology. Perhaps We ~an illustrate by an example. Any priest knows that young people who are geowing addicted to certain bad habits are .prone to "shop arounff'maS.-the saying goes--for an "easy" confessor. In doing this they make two serious mistakes. They go from one confessor to another with the result that none of these transitory confessors can give them real help; and, when at last they settle on .the "easy" one, they choose him precisely because he does not have the qualities that a helpful con-fessor should have. Writing in the Comrnentarium Pro Religiosis for June- July, 1926, Father van Acken pointed out that some reli-gious who experience difficulties with regard to ~he ~eligious life in general or in regard to one of the vows in particular, are apt to make this same childish mistake. They need sympathetic direction, it is true, but also expert and firm direction. Because they fear this, they avail themselves of the privilege of canon 522 to "shop around" for a confes~ sot who will ask no questions or make no firm demands of them,. This is the gravest of all the abuses that can result from the imprudent use of the privilege. Needless to say, the Church never intended this favor to be a source of the loss of vocation and even a grave danger to the soul. Reli- 82 'UsE OF CONFESSION PRIVILEGES gious in extreme difficulties of this kind, more than any., others, ne, ed the help of a man who knows the demands of .the religious life. If they cannot get it, then God's grace must be sufficient for them; but if they deliberately avoid it. they expose their souls to extreme peril. Apptication t6 Religious Men Provisions for confessors of religious men follow the same general lines as the legislation for Sisters: In lay insti-tutes of men there must be one ordinary and one e, xtra-ordinary confessor for each housE; and the local Ordinary is to grant a special con.lessor to the individual religious who asks for one. The Code is silent about extraordinary and special confessors for professed members of clerical institutes; but it seems to be the common practice to pro-vide these. All religious men may confess to their priest superiors who have confessional jurisdictioh; and all have the privilege of confessing to any priest having the faculties of the diocese, even though not .specially approved for religious. The prudent, use of these privileges is governed by the same general principles we have explained in treating of the privileges of Sisters. By way of br.ief and practicalsum-mary, we may say that these principles are aptly indicated by two words: competence and consistenc~l. In regard to the principle of competence, religious must bear in mind that the Church, in allowing them to confess to all priests with diocesan faculties, does not thereby approve all these priests for the direction of religious. This applies .not only to diocesan priests but also to members of one's own institute. Some lack the experience, or the right attitude, or some other quality needed for sure guidance in certain delicate problems. To be more concrete in a matter of such great impor-. 83 THE EDITORS tance, let us say quite candidly that there are some prob-lems that a young religious must take particular pains to face and solve honestly. Notable among these may be mentioned a strongly rebellious spirit, a fundamental inability to live and work harmoniously with one's breth-ren, a genuine weakness in regard to temperance or chas-tity. To embrace the religious-statk permanently and above all to go on to ordination in" the face of serious doubts in such matters is wrong. The competent confes-sor knows this and will put the proper alternatives squarely before his penitent. Another confessor might fail to recognize the case as truly serious, or, if he does rec-ognize it, might be too hesitant in asserting the remedy. The grave .results of what is falsely termed "kindness" in this matter are too well known to need comment. As for the principle of consistenqt, we have already ¯ indicated that; even in the ordinary affairs of the spiritual" life, it is unwise to shift confessors or directors needlessly. In serious matters such as those mentioned above, this shifting will amount to gross imprudence, if it means that a religious goes from one confessor to another to the extent that even a competent confessor would not have the opportunity of recognizing a difficulty as habitual. Conclusion ¯ Although some of the statements made in this a'rticle may sound rather severe, yet we did not make them with the intention of minimizing the privileges granted by the Church. Rather, our one desire was to make these privi-leges more useful I~y showing how they fit into the entire scheme of canonical legislation and approved asceticism. 84 Some Notes on the Part:icular l:::xamen Timothy Brosnahan, S.J.~ | N OUR spiritual life two sacraments pla~r a most impor- I kant part: Penance, which cleanses our souls from sin and gives us special graces for self-conquest and the rooting out of irregular affections; and the Holy Eucharist, which unites our cleansed souls to God in charity. Corre-sponding to these two institutions of Christ are two exer-cises of our religious life of the highest importance: exam-ination of conscience and meditation. By the first we are. helped and prepared for the worthy and efficacious recep-tion of the Sacrament of Penance, as well as for reaping the fruits of past confessions; by the second we are disposed and prepared for union with Christ in the reception of the Bles-sed Sacrament. The examination of conscience, therefore, mawr be called our daily Penance; meditation the daily com-plement to our Eucharist, and even our spiritual Eucharist itself when we cannot receive our Lord bodily. This parallelism between the life of the Church and our religious life and this. perfect adaptation of one to the other is worthy of note and is a comfort and an inspiration. these two exercises are performed faithfully, our advance-ment in perfection is assured and our~vocation and salva= tion are secure. On the contrary, the neglect of these exer-cises is the beginningof our loss ot~ earnestness and of the spirit of our vocation, with all the consequences that are entailed and that follow, slowly sometimes, but inevitably. 1Father Brosnahan died many years ago. These notes were culled from one of his conferences sent to us I~y Father Francis P. LeButie, S.J., who styles himself, "Father Tim's literary executor."~ED. ¯ TIMOTHY BROSNAHAN One part of th~ daily examination of conscience adopted and encouraged by most religious founders is the practice of the particular examen. Indeed, fidelity, to its use has become.a distinctive virtue of a fervent religious; neglect of it, or at least of something similar to it, is almost invariably followed by a loss of spiritual progress and is indicative of faltering interest in the affairs of one's soul and ¯ in the spirit of the religious vocation. The particular examen is preeminently a reasonable and businesslike manner of proceeding to uproot faults and to implant virtues. It is, if you wish, a species of spiritual bookkeeping, and as such has sometimes been lightly spoken of. Yet, if the children of this world, who are wise in their generation, keep their books, why should not the children, of light? The businessman who fails to keep his books or fails to balance them at stated intervals is, we are t'old by men conversant with mercantile affairs, a prospec-tive bankrupt. Such a man, if known, would get credit from no bahk. The practice of the particular examen is indicative of a sincere, painstaking, and businesslike desire of increasing in spiritual riches and of removing spiritual waste from our lives. It is a.small thing, yet its practice calls for much vir-tue. Its practice, therefore, even independently of the results it produces, would normally be a sign of virtue, self-control, and will-power. Usually the reason why we fail to.practise it is that we are not quite ready to overdome ourselves. The particular examen deals with one thing at a time, with an individual and distinctive virtue, vice, or fault. The first and main feature of the examen is the choice of this virtue to be'practised or fault or vice to be eradicated. Whether virtue or fault, this subject should be concrete, well-defined, with a real personal meaning in our livds. We 86 THE PARTICULAR EX~MEN have to avoid the vague and generic, the occasional and the abstract. Is it desirable, for instance that we should grow in charity? A little study will tell us whether we should aim at practising it first in words or in our manner; or again, if'in words, whether our efforts must be .general or rather directed towards some in particular with Whom we come into frequent contact, and whose views or manners annoy us. And so of any other virtue, One might as well choose Christian perfection as the subject for his particular examen as,. say, humility. But to choose to exercise definite ~humiliating. acts or to submit to .definite humiliations arising from the'criticism of others or from repioof or correction by superiors, is another and a concrete matter. According to many spiritual masters, there is in the soul of each of us one ',root defect," that hinders perfection and .which, if unchecked, disposesto sin. The fault is not neces-. sarily great in itself; but it can have very serious effects, like the defective cog that makes a machine wobbleand finally break down. ! On the negative side, the principal aim of the particular.examen should be the eradication of this fault. How can we detect a fault of this kind? We may know it from our distractions; for example, what is the usual motif, as musicians .say, of our thoughts when we are wool-gathering?' Or we may know it from our troubles; for example, what kind of discomfort most ~annoys us;. or in what' are we most apt to seek consolation or recreation when distressed or fatigued? Or, strange to say, we may.know this fault if we know our natural virtues. Each person has certain natural, dispositions that ~on-stitute his own personal temperament; Among these traits, of character there is generally a dominant natural virtue that can be perfected by grace and be the foundation of sanctity.-. Thus the saints differ ~¢astly in their charac- TIMOTHY BROSNAHAN teristic virtues because in them grace did not destroy their individuality but perfected it. This distinctive natural virtue, besides being the foun-dation on which one can build his perfection, is also a clue to his faults: and from these faults it must be purified wben it is transformed into perfect virtue~ If we consider the cardinal virtues and the virtues connected with them, we ~shall find that the distinguishing mark of on.e person is natural prudence, of another self-restraint, of another courage, of another justice. But real virtue avoids excess or defect, is balanced and adjusted to other virtues. If a person has only one of these naturally virtuous character-istics, we may rightly say of him, "I fear a man of one v~rtue"; for truly, besides being very often a bore, he is not to be relied on in a situation of any complexity. He will. ride his natural virtue complacently and freely, when it should be bridled by other virtues. For instance, if your special trait of character is pru-dence, there is danger of your over-exercising it about some special need of body or soul and of falling habitually into the vice which is called "prudence of the flesh," which is" in reality distrust .of God's providence over you and a selfish regard for your own temporal well-being. Tl'iere is danger of your becoming unduly solicitous of your health, your reputation, of what you call your rights. There is danger of your becoming timid, overcautious, distrustful, crafty and politic in your dealing with your equals, your superiors, even with God and your own conscience, by habitually using indirect, underhand and. political means of bringing about your own designs. If your special trait of charadter is justice, honesty or fairdealing, as you may call'it, you are likely to confound truthfulness with undue frankness, to assume to yourself the .mission of showing up frauds, whether these be THE I~ARTICUL&R EXAMEN externs or fellow religious. Also, you are likely to act as if ¯ you had a special vocation to g6 about, hunting for an underdog to defend, though as often as not you get the dogs mixed up. You pride yourself on being an honest man; and as a consequence of this you are hard in your "dealings with others and harsh in your judgment of them. Your sense of justice has made you so upright that you dispense with prudence, humility, kindness, even -with justice itself. You are a knight without-fear, perhaps, but not without reproach. If fortitude is your special trait of character, you are apt to be bard to govern, OVer-bearing, self-willed, impa-tient, irascible, rash, and intolerant. In your. own judg-me~ it, of course, you have a "strong charact~)": yet. to others youare simply stubborn, hardheaded, and intract-able. If you are a teacher, your will must be law for your unfortunate pupils; your only idea of remedying their defects is to crush them into subjection or to get them expelled. If you are a prefect of. discipline, your ideal is not a parent dealing with children, but a policeman dealing with law-breakers; and. the young people who are under you are apt to leave the institution with very ugly .memories of it. If your characteristic virtue is temperance, perhaps you hav~ the defects of this virtue. Your self-restraint, gentle-ness, meekness, may degenerate into weaRness or coward-ice; and, rather than run the riskof disturbing the serenity of your temper, you will avoid duties that call for strength of character, or even cooperate with what is .wrong rather than incur,the criticism or displeasure of "others. The foregoing are the defects most likely ~o be associ-ated with imperfect hatural virtues. The elimination of these, defects is a necessary condition for°perfecting the 89 TIMOTHY BROSNAHAN ., virtue; and the particular examination of conscience is an-approved and effective method of elimihating such defects. 1Nlaturally, this mere removal of defects is not the ultimate goal of the examen; it is but a step towards union with and imitation of Christ in the positive practice_ of the supernatural virtues. Books Received (From December 20, 1942, to February 20, 1943) THE AMERICA PRESS. New York. Shinin9 in Darkness. New Edition by Francis. X. Talbot, $,J. $2.00. His Father's Business. By Robert F. Grewen, S.,I. $1.50. We Wish" rb See desus. By Paul L. Blakely, S.,I. $2.00. The Followin9 of Christi Trans-lated by 3osephMalaise, S.3. Purse Edition: New Printing. $1.50. B. HERDER BOOK CO., St. Louis. Chapters'in Religion. By Rev. Carlton A. Prindeville, C.M., S.T.D. $2.00.'~ The Our Father. 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Maryknoll Mission Letters. By Maryknoll Missionaries. $ .50. ,JOSEPH F.WAGNER, Inc., New York. The Better Life. By the Reverend Kilian ,J. Hennrich, O.F.M.Cap. $2.50. FROM COMPILER, 431 George Street, Braddock, Pa. " The Epistles and" Gospels. For the Sundays, Holydays, Various Intentions and Speci.al Occasions in the Catholic Church of the Greek Rite. Compiled by the Reverend ,Julius Grigassy, D.D. $1.50. 90 Hidden Saint of Nazareth 'Matthew Germing, S.J. THE p~erogatives of' St. Joseph, spouse of Mary and foster-father of our Lord Jesus Christ, were explained in an article that appeared in an early number of this REVIEw1. The purpose of the present article is to direct attention to certain traits of character in this great saint and to offer a few comments on some Of hi~ virtues. The character of a saint, like that of any other man, has its natural elements that have not a little to do with " his sanctity, often giving it a special form or cast or inten-sity in some specific direction. Holiness, we .know, does not destroy natural gifts. It purifies and elevates them, holds out worthy aims and motives, and directs natural ability into wholesome channels. We know a great deal of. the natural disposition.s of Saints Peter andPaul and John, because thb writers of the. New Testament tell us much of what these saints said and did. They tell Us very little, ~in any direct way, of St. Joseph. St. Matthew (1: 19) mentions that he was "a just man," which is the scriptural way of saying, that he was a virtuous man. The same evangelist indicates in connection with the above statement that he was not a m~in who. acted hastily or on impulse, by saying, "he thought on these things." Joseph therefore deliberated when face to face with importa.nt decisions. In this respect he was unlike the impetuous Peter. From these and a few Other brief expressions foti~d in the Gospel We reasonably infer that St. Joseph was natur-ally a rather quiet, silent, and unobtrusive man. He mo~'es ~t. Joseph°s Title~ to Religiou~ Hoaor by Aloysius C. I~emP~r, S.J., v01. I, i~1~.74-84. ¯ ." 91 MATTHEW GERMING through life unobserved. Not a single word of his is recorded in the Gospel narrative. This is quite remark-able in view of the position he held in the Holy Family. He reflects, he acts, he wonders, at the momentous events that happen in his family and in which he plays an important part, but he is never the spokesman (cf. Matthew 1: 19; 2: 14, 21-23; Luke 2: 33, 48). Indeed, ,Joseph's very silence might be thought-to account for the late growth of devotion to him in the Church. The first two or three centuries after the Apostles tell us nothing of St. ~loseph. His name is not found in the early calendar of the saints. However, this is suffi-ciently accounted foroby the circumstances that in the early centuries of the existence of the Church, only martyrs received public veneration. Some of the Fathers of the Church do indeed speak of him and his prerogatives, but beforeth.e, days of St. Bernard (1091-1153) devotion to St. ~losepb seems to bare been almost entirely of a private " character. A church was ~ledicated to his l'ionor for the first time in the West, in the year- 1129 at Bologna. His feast, though celebrated by local churches in the middle ages, was not placed in the Roman calendar .until the sec-ond half of the fifteenth-century. Thus Gospel-and tra-dit'ion combined to invest the spouse of Maryand devotion tO him with an atmosphere of obscurity and silence that . lasted over a thousand years and is strongly suggestive of the hidden life the great patriarch led while on earth. But the bumble ~loseph was not to remain in obscurity permanently in the life of Christ's Church on earth. God's ways have always been to exalt, in due time, him that humbles himself. For the past five hundred years devo-tion to the foster-father of our Lord has gone on increas-ing by leaps and bounds until today it stands in popu-larity next to that of the Mother of God herself. And, as 92 HIDDEN SAINT OF NAZARETH if the Church wished to make up for the late recognition he received in thedevotional life of the faithful, the. supreme Pontiff Pius IX made him Patron of the Univer-sal Church and accorded him a second feast to do him honor under the new title. There is much in the life and character of St. Joseph that does not lie on ~he surface,- but is discovered by reflec-tion on the scanty items the evangelists have recorded of him. If we take into account these few. items and with them the delicate demands of the position he had to fill in the lives of Jesus and Mary, we shall be convinced, I believe, that St. Joseph must have been a man of sensitive and profound faith and of constant devotion to prayer. Had he not been so, it is"scarcely conceivable that infinite Wisdom would have selected him for the office he held. On reading what is said of Joseph in the Gospel, we cannot fail to see that he was always docile and obedient to legitimate authority, no matter how its commands were made known to him. This obedience had its roots in faith. A deep faith that had developed into an ever-present sense of the fundamental truths of revelation was the dis-tinctive mark of ~11 the patriarchs of old, of Abraham and Isaac and Jacob and the rest. Strong characters these men were, and strong their faith and trust in God. So too was it with St. Joseph, who forms the connecting link betwedn the great saints of the old dispensation and those df the new. There was no weakness in him. Once the. will of God was .clear to him, he never hesitated. We see this illustrated at his very first appearance in the Gbspel nat- ' rative when an angel of the Lord bade him not to fear to take t6 himself Mary his wife. Again, his faith is mani-fest in the trying circumstances under Which .he traveled with.Mary to Bethlehem " in obedience to the decree of a pagan emperor, and in the command he received at night /V~ATT~-IEW GERMING ~to take the Child and his mother and fly into EgypL By faith hd saw God and God's will in the little duties of his life no less than in the important charges entrusted to him. Apart from a few ex, traordinary events, that life of his was, externally, a very ordinary one. His' daily ioutine at Nazareth was much like that of any other 3ew of the poorer class who was head of a small family. It consisted of his daily work as a carpenter, little deal.ings with the townspeople, his converse with 3esus and Mary, probably a little recreation at the end of the day, and the weekly Sabbath-day rest. Common and monotonous it was, one might say. So it would have been, had not the light and strength of faith been its animating principle. Faith in God permeated St. 3oseph's habit of thought, was his support and source of joy: God and His fatherly providence, the angels in their constant errands of mercy and love between heaven and earth, the souls of his saintly ancestors in the other world, the great spiritual truths revealed to the patriarchs and prophets, all these were as real to him as the sky over his head or the material house in which he lived with 3esus and Mary. By faith he knew that Mary was thd chosen spouse of the Holy Ghost, and that the Boy who daily lived in his presence, growing into manhood under his very eyes, ~vas the promised Messias, the very Son of God. ° He had heard-holy Simeon say: "Behold, this child is set. for the fall arid for the resurrection of many in Israel, and for a sign which shall be contradicted" (Luke 2: 34). The words never passed from 3o~eph's memory. He pondered their meaning. He thought of them when he saw the Child at prayer and at play, and later when he 'observed him at work and noted his ~ready and humble obedience, and the wisdom and grate that' became manifest with the passing years. To the purely human eyes of the neighbors, 94 HIDDEN SAINT. (~F NAZ,~RETH and even to "his brethren," Of whom the evangelist was to say later that they "did not believe in him," JeSus was just "the carpenter's son"; Mary, the mother of a some-what unusual young "man, nothing more. But to the supernaturally enlightened mind of St. Joseph, Jesus was the Redeemer of the .world, the long expected of. nations; Mary, the mother of the Son of God. . These were the mysteries in the midst of which JOseph moved and lived at Nazabeth. We have no natural means of ascertaining tee effects on his interior ,,life of this daily and hourly contact Wi~h the supernatural: Only the Holy. Ghost, through the power of His grace coupled with pray- 'erfUl consideration on our part, can reveal them to us. But ¯ we know that Joseph was a thoughtful, man, endowed with a reflective cast of mind. He prayed and meditated. And what is of much greater consequence, his soul,.was enriched with marvelous graces. This means that he had and"che.rished holy thou~16ts and desires, was the daily recipient of lights and inipirations from above, was ever growing and rnatfiring in holiness in the very noonday light of faith. Faith and the spirit of faith, thus highl~r developed in. the soul of the spouse of Mary, found their natural expres-sion in prayer: We said above that he must have been devoted to prayer; he was a man of prayer. In one sense, everyone must be a man of prayer. Prayer is a funda-mental duty of man. The reason is simple. Every intel-ligent being must worship God, that is, acknowledge his dependence on Him as the Creator and Lord of all things, and thi~ is prayer.Everyone must praise God, reverence His Holy Name, and this is prayer. All men must give thanks to God for the gifts and benefits they receive from His hands, must petition Him for help and grace, implore pardon for° their sins and infidelities, all of which is prayer. /V~IATTH EW GERMING :Prayer therefore is a duty incumbent on everyone, and to this extent everyone must be a man of prayer:. But when we say of St. Joseph that he was a man of prayer, we mean much more than that he fulfilled this ,genera[. and fundamental duty. We mean thathe put in ¯ . practice the scriptural exhortation to pray always, to pray without ceasing (Luke 18: I; I Thessalonians 5: 17), and he did so before either our Lord or St. Paul had explic-itly enjoined it. He lived in the spirit ,of prayer. The thoughts and sentiments of his heart were habitually directed to his Father in heaven in a conscious attitude of faith and hope and love, of praise and thanksgiving, of petition and oblation of himself and of all he did. This means muchmore than praying well at stated times of the day. 3oseph did that t6o, as did all God-lea.ring men in Israel. They were bound to do this. But St. Joseph made the whole day a prayer. Whether he was with ,Jesus and Mary in their house at Nazareth, or working at the carpenter's bench, or talking to a neighbor or customer, or trudging along the dusty road'on one of the three annual pilgrimages to the holy city, he bore himself with a composure and recollection that gave evidence of his prayerful soul. One may say, how could it have been ¯ otherwise? Was h~ not blessed with the companionship of Jesus and Mary? Very true. He saw and touched . what the patriarchs and prophets before him had longed to see and had not seen. And yet, he lived by faith and received the reward of faith. With his ,bodily eyes he beheld Jesus, the Son of Mary: by. faith he believed that this same Jesus was the Son of the living God. Certainly, the wondlerful circumstances in which St.~ Joseph lived at Nazareth were most favorable to prayer and piety and to holiness of life in general.Cath-olics in the world of the twentieth century will probably 96 ~' HIDDEN SAINT OF NAZ~.RETH -say the same. thing of the circumstances in which, religious live in their several communities today; and if they do, they are right. A great happiness.and a fertile opportun-ity for sanctification it is to live in a house in which our Lord dwells. But we must remember that while it is a privilege and a grace, it .is also a responsibility. The ques-tion whetherwe are profiting.by this'opportunity as well as 2oseph profited by the blessing that was his while he lived under the same roofas Jesus and Mary is a matter that desdrves our frequent consideration. We can be cer-tain that he availed himself in full measure of the holy example of the Blessed Virgin to bdcome more like to her 'in angelic purity of heart, in modesty of demeanor and, most of all,in ardent love for God and man. He was an apt .subject f0rlearning from the Immaculate Virgin and her divine Son. He was humble, single-minded in out-look, silent and recollected, docile to the inspirations of the Holy Ghost. He was the head of the Holy Family. In legal form and rank, the order of precedence-was Joseph, Mary, Jesus. But in respect to holiness of life, the order was the reverse, thus: Jesus, Mary, Joseph. These three represented the highest summit of holiness ever attained, or possible of attainment on earth~by any-individual or a group of individuals. They may be said to h'ave consti-tuted the first religious community in the Church, St. Jo-seph being the Superior; and they set up a singularly high ideal of perfection for the imitation of all succeeding com-munities. Dail~r prayer is an essential function or practice of every religious community. Among the Jews the recital of set prayers, whether in the family circle or in the syna-gogue, was chiefly the duty of men. Women and children joined in. It may appear astounding, but it is true that we are in possession of a prayer which was said by St. Joseph MATTHEW GERMING twice every day, morning and evening, from the time he was able to read until the day of his death.~ It is an inspired prayer, taken from the' books of Deuteronomy and Num-bers2. and was the first prayer taught to Jewish children. The opening verses read as follows: Hear, 0 Israel, The Lord our God i~ one Lord. Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole heart, And with thy whole soul, and with thy whole s,trength, And these words which I command thee this day Shall be in thy heart, And thou shalt tell them to thy children, And thou shalt meditate upon them sitting in thy house And walking on thy journey, Sleeping and rising. And thou shalt bind them as a sign on thy band, And they shall bd and shall move between thy . eyes. And thou shalt write"them in the entry " And on the doors of thy house. The recitation of this prayer twice a daymthe entire ;~.~prayer Consists of sixty-one linesmwas obligatory on. all the men in Israel, and it is thought that our Blessed Lord Himself said it regularly. The great commandment of 1ov~ is stated and then.emphasized by an injunction that calls for frequent, if not continual meditation on its con-tents-- the obligation of centering all one's thoughts and desires and love on God our Creator and Lord. No doubt ~-Deuteronomy 6: 4-9;" 11: 13-21; Numbers 15: 37-41. On this whole subject cf. Willam: MarF the Mother of Jesus, translated by Eckhoff. p. 143, ft. 98 HIDDEN SAINT OF NAZARETH there were God-fearing J~ws all over the world who made a serious effort to comply with. this precept.~ This i~ pre-cisely what we have supposed St. Joseph did habitually in the course bf his every-day life. He furnishes religious of every order and congregation a perfect pattern of prayer, and not only of prayer, but of every kind df virtue. We must not fail to take into account the fact that St. Joseph was'a workman. He handled the implements of daily toil, enjoyed little or no leisure, was industrious and contente.d with his occupation. Work is the law of life. It absorbs a. multitude of troubles, mental and physi.- cal. Many people would be more happy if they worked more and talked less, in imitation of our saint. He spent his days in hard work, in poverty, obscurity, and prayer, and in this way fulfilled admirably the duties God had laid upon him. At the present time it is almost taken for granted that great things can be accomplished only by means of wealth and position and influence with the mighty. So it is with the material ~nterprises of this world. But in the realms of the spiritual, .earthly norms are reversed. God often chooses men destitute of the means which, humanly speaking, ma~e for success and through them achieves great spiritual results; "that no flesh should glory in hissight" (1Cor. 1: 28). He did this in the case of St. Joseph, the Cur~ of Ars, Th~r~se of Lisieux. It is true that in many other instances our Lord has deigned to make use of the services of men and women of outstanding natural ability and varied human acquirements for the spread of His kingdom on earth and the glory of Hi~ Holy Name. But in all such cases natural endowments were accompanied by a high degree of the love of God and' of prayer, profound humility and obedience. These are the virtues that make for the success which alone counts in the eyes of God. MATTHEW GERMING In these dreadful times, religious may well turn with increased devotion to the patron of the universal Church and implore his intercession. By fervent prayer to him and by the practice of the lowly virtues of humility, obedience, and poverty that distinguished his career on earth they have it in their power to .do much for the cause of Christ and His Church and for the spiritual and temporal wel-fare of millions of souls. Pamphle÷ Notices The Maryknoll Bookshelf, Maryknoll, New York, publishes four catalogues of mission plays and appropriate musical selections that you might find intere.sting. The catalogues are listed as follows: Book I: Mission Plags for Children (3 cents) ; Book II: Mission Plags for Young People (6 cents) ; Book III: Mission Plags [or Col-lege Groups and Adults (8 cents) ; Book IV: Musical Selections Suit-able for Mission Plag Programs (3 cents). Write to: Marykn011 Bookshelf, Maryknoll, New York. Concerning Mail We are doing our best to get the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS to you on time. But postal delays are almo.~t inevitable these dhys, especially in regard to second class mail. We want you to notify us when you do not receive your copy of the REVIEW, but, in view of the transportation difficulties, we ask you to wait a week or two beyond the normal time for receiving your copy of the REVIEW before yoti write to us. 100 Superiors and Manit:estation oJ: Conscience Adam C. Ellis, S.J. FROM early Christian times it was customary .for those who wished to attain to perfection to seek out a ma-ture and experienced guide with whom they could treat of spiritual things and .to whom they revealed the secrets of their souls so that he might give them wise and practical direction. Thus, many hermits in thel deserts of Egypt, upon le.arning of the holiness of St. Anthgny, moved their cells to that part of the desert where he dwelt, in order that they might have the benefit of his spiritual direction. When the first monasteries, or groups of monks living in common, were established, the Father Abbot was also the spiritual guide of his subjects, ,who freely made known to him their anxieties and spiritual problems. Thus, by custom, the practice of manifestation of conscience was introdu&d into the religious life and eventually became a matter of obligation in. many institutes. Meaning of Manifestation To manifest one's conscience means to reveal to another person the inner state of.one's Soul in order to obtain advice and guidance regarding the doubts and difficulties of the spiri.tual life. The phrase, "inner ~tate of one's soul," com- .prises not only one's fault~, bu.t also the various inclinations one experiences towards both good and evil, the trials and temptations one must undergo, the difficulties encountered in the practice of virtue, the inspirations and good desires one has received from God. From this description it will be seen that the purpose of manifestation ofconsdence differs from that of Sacramental Confession. The essential purpose of confession is the for- 101- ADAM C. ELLIS giveness of sins: the principal aim of manifestation is spir-itual direction." In other words, one.gives the director a complete and clear insight into ,his ioul, so that the director may help him to correct his faults, 6vercome his evil ten-dencies, correspond with the inspirations of grace, and prac-tice virtue more effectively. This difference of purpose does not mean, of course, that the account of conscience need be separated from con-fession. It can be made in or out of confession. When made in confession, it becomes a natural supplement to the so-called confession oi~ devotion and supposes a regular con-fessor who also fills the role of spiritual director. Usefulness of Manifestation All spiritual writers admit the beneficial effects of the account of conscience when given freely and sincerely. It has always been ~ecognised as one of the principal means to progress in the spiritual life, no~ only for religious, but for persons living in the world as well. It is the neces.sary pre-lude to enlightened spiritual guidance. In worldly matters it is normally considered a wise thing to consult others. We give our family doctor'a sincere account of our. bodily ailments, as well as of any s.ymptoms which may help him to understand our physical condition better. In every-day business matters we consult our lawyer to be certain, that .our actions do not fall afoul of the law, as well as to pro-tect our rights. How much more eagerly, then, should we seek counsel in the matters of highest importance, those of the soul? Moreover, the most enlightened spiritual director V.dll be very much limited in his direction, unless his con-sultant gives him an intelligent insight into the state of his soul. -But all good things can be abused. And the fact that the practice of manifestation of conscience was made obliga- 102 MANIFESTATION OF ('~ONSCIENCE tory i~y rule in many lay institutes did ,give rise to such abuses, since all the necessary safeguards are not at hand in the ~ase of lay superiors. Pope Leo XIII issued a decree on thissubject on Deeember 17, 1890 (Quemadmodum),in which he ~mentioned three such abuses: lay superiors required,, directly or indirectly, avowals which by their nature belonged to the tribunal of penance; they restricted too much the freedom 0f going to confession; and they reserved to themselves, in the matter of receiving Holy Communion, a direction which belongs for the most part to the confessor. To remedy these abuses, the Pope forbade all lay supe-riors (both Brothers and Sisters) to induce their subjects to give their intimate manifestation of conscience to them. He also ordered deleted from all constitbtions; directories, and custom books of all lay orders and congregations of both sexes every direction pertaining to the intimate manii~esta-tion of heart and consclence to lay superiors. In 1901 this prohibition was extended by the Sacred .Congregation of Bishops and Regulars to masters and mistresses of novices" in lay institutes (Normae, N. 79). Finally, in 1917 the Code of Canon Law extended the prohibition to all reli-gious superiors, even to those who are priests. Does this mean that in modern times, the Church has changed her mind in regard to the value of manifestation of conscience for religious? A careful study of canon 530 will give us the .answer. "All religlous superiors are strictly forbidden to induce their subjects, ih any way whatever, to make a manlfesta÷ion of, conscience to ÷hem {c.anon 530, § I). "Subjects, however; are not forbidden to open their minds freely and spontaneously to their superiors: nay more, it is desirable that they. approach their superiors with filial confidence, and, i.f the sup6rlors be priests, expose to them their doubts and troubles of conscience also (canon 530, § 2)." 103 ADAM C. ELLIS Explahation of the Law All reli~Tious super.lots are forbidden: The term supe-riors must be understood here to include those to whom, the Code gives that title, that is to say, those who govern, the institute, its provinces, and its individual houses, as well as those who take their places, s6ch as visitors, vice-provincials, vice-rectors, and the priors of abbeys. To induce their subjects in ang manner'whatsoever: The term subjects includes not only the professed reli-gious, but novices and postulants as well, since they are subject to the domestic power of the superior, oT6 induce in.ang wag whatever, is a summary statement of what the decree of Leo XIII (Quemadmodum, n. 2) gave in detail: "His Holiness formally forbids superiors, both men and women, of whatever rank or preeminence, to seek, directly or indirectly, by precept, counsel, intimidation, threats, or flattery to induce their subjects to make the said manifes-tation of conscience to them." Superiors may not, there-fore, show a marked preference for those of their subjects who do freely and spontaneously give them an account of their conscience, nor may they treat with ic01dness those subjects who refrain from giving such an account. The law does not forbid superiors to inquire delicately concerning the reasons for the sadness or trouble that they see afflicting their subjects. To make such inquiries may at times be an obligation of charity; b.ut the superior must be careful not to insist if he sees that the subject prefers not to explain the source of his condition. To matte a manifestation of conscience to them: We have already explain.ed that manifestation of conscience means the revelation of the inner state of one's soul. It does no~ include the chapter of faults, customary in many insti-tutes, because this is limited to external faults and to vio-lations of the constitutions that can be noticed by others. 104 ~NIFESTATION OF CONSCIENCE N~r does it include the canonical visitation of religious made by their own °religious superiors, as prescribed by canon 51 l, because the object of the visitation is external government (cf. canons 513 ands618, § 2, 2°). ' , Subjects, however, are not forbidden to open their minds freely and spontaneously to their superiors: What ~s forbidden by the law is all force or inducement on the-part of the superior, not the free and spontaneous manifes-tation made by the shbject. Nay more, it is desirable that they approach their supe-riors with filial confidence: Hence it is not only.licit for a religious to make a manifestation of conscience to-his superior, provided he does so freely and spontaneously, but it is recommended as ~sometbing desirable. There should exist between superior and subject that fine rela-tionship which exists in the model family between parent and child. What is more natural than that a son or daughter go to father or mother for advice in time of.doubt or trial? Similarly a religious will usually find a sympa-thetic counselor and a prudent guide in the person of his superior, especially in regard to the spirit of his institute and the proper understanding of the rules and constitutions. The superior has the added advantage of knowing his sub-ject, at least from his external conduct, a point of view which the confessor often lacks. This filial confidence in superiors is necessary and help-ful ~n other matters as well: Superiors are human beings; they can and do make mistakes occasionally. Misunder.- standings may arise, which can be cleared up easily if a religious has the good sense to go to his superior 'and talk matters over with him. On his part a religious may fail by avoiding his superior. If this be the case, it is difficult to see how mutual confidence ca~i exist. The probabilities are that the superior will not know his subject, while the 105 ADAM C, ELLIS latter will be inclined to criticise his superior, or at least grumble because he is misunderstood. The only remedy for such a situation lies in a frank unburdening of his mind to the superior. He will find that the superior will be relieved to find outthe true state of things; and superior and subject will become better acquainted with each other for their mutual benefit. It is desirable that, if the superiors be priests, the!t expose to them their doubts and troubles of conscience also. We have just seen that, in a general way, the Church recommends the voluntary manifestation of one's con-science to the superior. However, in regard to "doubts and troubles of conscience," the Code makes an important qualification~ It positively encou.rages religious to mani-fest even these to priest superiors; regarding lay superiors, it does not positively .recommend such intimate manifes-tation, though it does not forbid it. What is meant by "doubts and troubles of con-science"? The expression certainly includes all doubts hnd anxieties concerning sins. It seems also to include other questions of c~nscience which, because of their diffi-culty, importance, or .uncertainty, require the help of one who is well-versed in moral and ascetical theology--a quality that may be lacking even in very holy lay supe~ ¯ riots. If their superiors are priests, religious are recom-mended by the Churchoto give them their fullest.confidence in all matters pertaining to their spiritual life. Every-thing else being equal, they will find no more sympa-thetic friend and prudent counselor than him who has only the best interests of each individual member of his community at heart and who, as a priest, is the repre-sentative of the Master of the Spiritual Life, Who came that men may bare life, and havre it more abundantly. 106 If the superior is not a. priest, he should remember that the Church does not encourage subjects to give an account of their doubts and troubles of conscience to him. Hence, ordinarily he will advise the subject who wishes to do so to consult his confessor or .spiritual director in these particu-lar matters. On the other hand, he should gladly receive the spontaneous manifestations made by a subject regard-ing other matters of the interior life. This is quite in accord with the mind of the Church, provided always that the subject does so voluntarily, without any urging or coercion on the part of the superior.~ When subjects come freely and spontaneously to the superior to give him an account of conscience, he should receive them with fatherly kindness, listen patiently and at length, and question them Prudently in order to obtain all the information necessary to give them wise .counsel: and direction. Both superiors anal subjects should remem-ber that all matters talked of in manifestation of con-science are safeguarded by the highest kind of professional secrecy, though not by the sacramental seal, unless it hap-pens that the superior is a priest, and the subject mani-fests his conscience to him by actually confessing to him. Novice-Master and Manifestation The.mas~er (mistress) of novices is not a superior in the canonical sense. For this reason, commentators on canon 530 are not agreed that the prohibition of this canon applies to him., Despite this controversy, it is certain that' he cannot demand of his novices a manifestation of such things as normally pertain to the Sacrament of Penance. In the case of a lay master of novices, the decree Quemad-modum denounced this as a grave abuse and the Normae, N. 79, explicitly forbade it.As for priests, the Code even forbids them to hear .the confessions of their novices 107 ADAM C. ELLI, S except in certain special cases (c.891); it is evident, there-fore, that they may not demand such intimate revelations outside of confession. Nevertheless, the ,master of novices must ha~e some rights of inquiry. He alone has the right and obligation of providing for the formation of the novices; he alone is charged w.ith the direction of the novitiate(c. 561). Under t~is personal guidance, the canonical year of novi-tiate has for its object the forming of the mind of the nov-ice by means of the study of the rule and constitutions, by pious meditations and assiduous prayer, by instruction on those matters, which pertain to the vows ~ind the virtues, by suitable exercises in r.ooting out the germs of vi,.ce, in regulating the motions of the soul, in acquiring v,rtues (c. To attain these objects of the novitiate, there must be mutual confidence between master and novice;' and the novice master must be free to inquire about things which pertain to his office and do not border on confessional mat-ter. Such objects of licit inquiry would be: one's reactions to. his brethren and common life; his progress in prayer; attraction to certain kinds of spirituality; qualifications for certain offices; difficulties with the rule, and so forth. The novice, on his part, will best prepare himself to become a fervent religious by being frank and open with the master, whose only task is to train him in the way of the religious life as outlined in the rules and constitutions of the institute. 108 The Divine Prie t:ly Vocation James T. Meehan, S.J. WHAT is a vocation to the priesthood? The frequent repetition of this question, together with questions about the r.eligious life,, is the natural accompani-ment and aftermath of vocation week. In REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS for January (II, p. 25), Father Risk indicated clearly the essentials of a vocation to the.religious life. The present article is concerned with outlining the approved Catholic notion of a vocation to the priesthood. Different Theories From the seventeenth century to our own the general idea was that vocation exclusively concerned God and the individual soul of a candidate. Others must leave every-thing to the inspirations of the Holy Spirit. If God wanted a boy for the priesthood, God would call him in a secret but unmistakably plain manner. No one should interfere in the process. No one should presume to direct a young man into the priesthood for fear of intruding some-one who did not have a divine call. Early in the twentieth century occurred a change in vocation thought. Vocation, according to the new opinion, is not a secret process in its entirety. In fact, the principal element is not the least bit secret. The principal element in vocation:is the public, official, canonical invitation issued by ecclesiastical authority. This public call, together with the actual rite of ordination, constitutes one as called by God, "as Aaron was," with a divine vocation. Advocates of this idea found support in the important Roman decision1 of June 20, 1912, which states: "1) No .!Acta Apostolicae Sedis, IV, p. 485. Kempf's translation of ~'ermeersch: Religious and Ecclesiastical Vocation, Herder, 1925, p. 26. " 109 JAMES T. MEEHAN one ever has any right t0.ordination antecedently to the free. choice of the bishop. °2)The requisite on the part of the one to l~e ordained, which requisite is called sacerdotal voca-tion, does not consist, at least necessarily and ordinarily, in a certain inclination of the subject or-in inducements of the Holy Spirit to enter the priesthood. 3) On the contrary, in order that one may be rightly called by the bishop, nothing further is necessary than the right intention together with fitness (based on the .gifts of natureand of grace and sufficiently confirmed by a good life and the required learning), which give well-founded hope that he will be able to fulfill the duties of the sacerdotal state properly and observe the obligations of that state holily." One would think that this decree should settle the question. Yet the older notion of inner attraction would not easily down. Some authors tried to reconcile the two theories by saying that the call of the bishop referred to external ritualism but that the inner call was presupposed. Others held that the call of the bishop concerned the external.government of the Church, while the interior call belonged to the sphere of conscience. Today, of course, all writers'are agrded in accepting 1) suitability, 2) right intention an~l 3) canonical call as the dements of a divine priestly vocation. But there remain a gre.at number of excellent priests and religious who still-hesitate about sug- ~gesting the priesthood to likely boys. Reflection on the origin and growth of their own vocations complicates the matter. Perhaps not a few such priests and religious are convinced--and rightly so--that they followed the higher call under the inspiration of a special favor from God. It seems almost that God had drawn them forcibly and irresistibly to this life work by a spe.cial attraction, an infier divine.call, which they dared not resist. In order to clear away obscurities and relieve the hesitancy of such" 110 DIVINE PRIESTLY VOCATION .per.sons a. brief historical treatment is in order. Before the seventeenth century no mention is made of the priestly vocation in the sense of an interior call. The priesthood was a public office. Its members were recruited according to need by the ruling bishops. Young men of sufficient knowledge and piety were trained, somewhat after the manner of apprentices, in the cathedral rectories. In due time they advanced to the priesthood through the several stages of minor and.major orders. The notion of a neces-sary interior call would have struck those ages as a novelty. The Council ot: T~ent Theoretically, certain qualifications of learning and virtue were always demanded; yet, long before the Coun-cil of Trent, grave abuses in this matter had crept into the Church. Especially grave was the selling of the priest-hood, abbacies .and prelacies, or the granting of such dig-nities as court fa-Cors. Trent ifisisted on the personal quali-fications of candidates. We find these qualifications suc-cinctly expressed in the Catechism of the Council of Trent, written at the express command of Pope Paul V. Here we read: "The burden of this great office should not be rashly imposed on anyone, but is to be conferred on those only who by their holiness of life, their knowledge, faith and prudence, are able to bear it.''2 So far, so good! Yet, fitness and interior dispositions, which all consider as necessary prerequisites of a vocation, gradually gave way to an interior divine call of a special sort as the essential criterion of vocation. Why was this special interior call demanded? For answer we turn to the condition of the Church in seventeenth-century France, cradle of the new theory. The reform decrees of Trent were welcomed in 1573 2Translation by MeHugh and Callan,p. 318, Wagner, New York, 1923. 111 JAMF~ T. MEEH~N by the Assembly of French Clergy,, who petitioned the king for the erection of seminaries in accord with the intentions of the Council. 'However, France was being torn apart by the bloody Huguenot wars. The Church was ba.dly dis-organize. d and demoralized. Twenty-eight episcopal sees had no.bishops. In 1595 matters were even worse. After "r~conciling Henry ~IV with Rome, the Papal Legate Wrote that only forty-three out of one hundred and forty dioceses had .bishops. And of that paltry number few were intelli-gent. They were lax in the conferring of Orders. ¯ Hence many priests were ill-prepared, too young, ignorant, or ordained without proper canonical titles. Seminaries su¢h as we have today were simply non-existent. Saint Vincent de Paul suggested the first remedy for this deplorable condition, namely, eight-clair retreats later extended to three months---consisting of an hour's lecture in the morning on the principal points of theology and a similar evening lecture on prayer, virtues, and qualities of the priest. Small, informal discussions throughout the day supplemented the lectures. Priests in charge of these so-called retreats were anxious that only fit subjects be pro-moted 'to Orders. Yet how" eliminate the unfit? To solve this knot.ty problem, vocation was gradually given a new meaning. No longer did it mean the active call of a bishop but the passive reception of a special inner experience in the soul of a candidate. In due course this experience was labeled as "divine vocation by attraction," and still later it. became the focus of the attraction theory of vocation. Unless the candidate experienced such an attraction and proved ~t tothe satisfaction of the seminary,he should not be ordained. Here we have an ingenious device to weed out unworthy candidates. With it bishops could gracef~ully dismiss such persons, even despite the insistence of rich and powerful ]~enefactors. 112 DIVINE PRIESTLY VOCATION The "'Attraction" Tbeorg Now for one word' of caution before explaining the attraction theory. Note that attraction can be taken to mean: 1) the definite, continuous inclination, let us say, to become a priest; 2) the phenomenon of a more or less mystical experience of God palpably, as it were, drawing the soul to a higher life. Certainly attraction in the first sense Often plays quite a pa.rt in one's choice of vocation. Talents, education, family background, reading, personal observation, or even some chance conversation may arouse such an attraction for any life work. Provided one's qualifications are such as give prudent hopes of success in a w6rk, the attraction towards that work is a good sign that one will do well in it. So much for attraction in the ordinary sense. But what about its function in the attrac-tion theory of vocation? For a priestly vocation, proponents of the attraction theory demanded the extraordinary. Since this is a pecu-liarly divine work, one must take special care to investigate the divine decrees. He must be assured of his election to the work by more than human prudence. He must have a peculiarly divine sign that. he is called. One must be attracted by a special inclination, a special invitation of the Holy Ghost. Authors speak of this special attraction in various ways. They call it a sweet impulse of grace, an interior sentiment, an inward, deep, lasting, constant, strong, abiding force. M. Olier called it a "movement of God who carries the whole soul and inclines it to this divine profession, not by sentiment, nor different starts and jumps, but by His dominion descending to the roots of the soul in stable and unchanging consistency.''8. This is a cardinal point in the theory: divine vocation was dis- -tinct from the qualifications of suita, bility and right inten- 8Quoted by Lahitton, in La Vocation Sacerdotale, Paris, 1914, p. 6. 113 JAMES T. MEEHAN tion. It came prior to the~bishop's call in the name of God. It was. required in addition to what the Church " demands for valid and licit ordination. Seminary direc-tors had to investigate this "vocation" and make sure of its authenticity. The True Catholic Notion Against this theory of "inner" .vocation stands the Roman Decision of 1912,. quoted towards the beginning of this article. In the same~year an Italian Catechism of Pope Pius X stated that."nobody can enter orders of his own will but he ought to be called by God by means of his own bishop, that is, he ought to have a vocation with the virtues and aptitudes required for the sacred ministry." Inthis catechism vocation is equated with call by the bishop, after the bishop has become, convinced of the vir-tue and aptitudes of the candidate. Pope Pius XI in 1935 ¯ issued his glorious e.ncyclical on the Catl4olic Pri.esthood. Thereifi we read that "a true priestly vocation.is not established so much by some inner feeling or devout attrac-tion, which may sometimes be absent or hardly percep-tible; but rather by a right intention in the aspirant, together with a combination of physical, intellectual and moral qualities which make him fitted for such a state of life. He must look to the priesthood solely from the noble motive of consecrating himself to the service of God and the salvation of souls; he must likewise have, or at least strive to acquire,, solid piety; perfect purity of life and sufficient knowledge, as We have explained . Thus he shows that he ,is called by God to the priestly state." .To sum up, we may say that there are three approved ways of considering or speaking of vocation to the priest-hood. The vocation may be: 1) Germinal; or 2) Inte-rior: or 3) Canonical. 114 DIVINE PRIESTLY VOCATION 1) Germinal vocatio~ is mentioned in canon 1353. ¯ 'Here we read that "priests, especially pastors, must make special efforts to preserve boys who show signs of an ecclesiastical vocation from the contagions of the world, to form them in piety, to initiate them in the study of let-ters, and to foster in them the germof a divine vocation." FatherVermeersch tells us that this germof vocation means the dispositions, inclinations, and actions which give pru-dent hope that the boy is or Will become suitable and.that he is not altogether opposed to the idea of the priesthood, It is evident that parents, teachers, confessorsand others would do a glorious work for the Church by awakening ambitions to the priesthood in such boys. 2) Interior vocation goes a step beyond the germinal stage. It consist~ essentially in this, that a young man is able and willing to assume the office of the. priesthood if the Church will accept him. Evidently the grace of God is present; but it need not .manifest itself in any extra-ordinary way. In practice, there is sufficient sign of a real interior vocation in the following case. The time comes when a youth must make up his own mind about his work in life. He needs information about the requirements and opportunities~ of. several occupa-tions. He must consider them in the light of his owri tal-ents and .inclinations. He must-weigh befoie God the pros and cons of entering upon a definite life-work. If he is wise, be will seek advice that is sympathetic and expert. Above all, if he is thinking seriously of the priesthood, he may need the guidance of a regular confessor for several months in order to gain some assurance that h~ can qu'alify for Holy.Orders. If, after prudently ~onsidering his case, the confes~o/judges the penitent is suitable, then the lat-ter may make up .his own mind and calmly apply for admission to a seminary. If he measures up to entrance 115 JAMES T. MEEHAN standards and is received, his very admission to the semi-nary gives him a relative and provisional certainty of ¯ vocation. If he makes the.seminary course creditably and continues in his conviction that he is fitted for the work, he may make his final decision to become a priest. One who acts in this way knows as surely as he can know any-thing of the future that God is giving and Wiil continue give him all the graces necessary for the .worthy reception ,of this great Sacrament. 3) Canonical:vocation is the external call to the priest-hood which comes towards the end of long preparation. During the years.of training .the candidatehas developed in virtue as w~ll as learning. He has fulfilled all the. require.ments of Church legislation to the satisfaction 6f seminary directors. He has given proofs of his suitability for the great privilege and work of the priesthood. Then only does he receive his divine priestly vocation, which is initiated by an official notification that he is to be ordained, and which is completed by the actual co.nferring of the ¯ Sacrament through the hands of the ordaining prelate. Vocation Booklet Father Thomas Bowdern of the Creighton University, is a worried desu(t! He wrote a thesis on vocations and published his main conclusions in a little booklet entitled Ji Study of Vocations. We recommended the booklet in the, November, 1942, number of the REVIEW. Many of our readers wrote to Father Bowdern for copies. He mailed the copies; but one package was returned to him. The label was missing; hence, he does not know whom he has involuntarily defrauded. Hence the -.worry;. If you wrote for booklets and didn't get them, please notify Father Bow-dern. Incidentally, we may add that.Father Bowdern still has a limited supply of the booklets. Price: 10 cents a copy. Address: Rev. Thomas S. Bowdern, S.ff., The Creight~n University, Omaha, Nebraska. 116 THE following booklist, together with the list previously pfib-fished (Cf. Vol. I, p. 105) presents a fair cross-section of the best sl~iritual writers and their works in the English language. Almost every spiritual topic is represented. No doubt, there are some omissions and there will not be full agreement on certain particular selections. However, it is hoped the lists, as they stand, will be of some assistance in building up the spirituaFlibrary. A word about the Scriptures. The Bible is, in a way, the spir-itual book par excellence, which every religious should know .thor~ oughly, especially the New Testament. To this end a good com-mentary is invaluable--such as the Scripture Manuals of Madame Cecilia, the commentary of Fathers Callan and McHugh, or the one recently published under the auspices of the Confraternity of Chris-tian Doctrine to accompany the revised edition of the New Testa-ment. The Old Testament will lose some of its formidableness if it is approached through selections such as are found in Mothe~ Mary Eaton's "The Bible Beautiful or ArChbishop Goodier's The Bible for Every Day. I prefer, howevdr, in my lists, to. classify the Bible as primarily a meditation book, or rather, as the meditation book, to which the religious should return again and again for the light and encouragement needed to carry out his sublime destiny. --- AUGUSTINE KLAAS, S.J. ANONYMOUS The Secrets of the Religious Life, edited by the Rev. Oliver Dolphin. (A sparkling gem of wisdom three hundred ¯ years old.) ARNOUDT, P. J., S.J, (1865) The lmitbtion of the Sacred Heart of desus. (Written in the manner of Thomas ~ Kempis) ATHANASIUS, SAINT (3 7 3) St. Anthony the Hermit, translated by J. B. McLaughl.in. (The life and spiritual message of the patriarch of all religious. ) 117 RECOMMENDED SPIRITUAL BOOKS BAINVEL, JEAN V., S.J. (1937) The Devotion to the Sacred Heart. (The most complete sys-tematic treatise on the subject.) BEAUDENOM, L. (1916) The Path of Humility. Spiritual Progress. 2 vols. ., These excellent books are published anonymously in English. The latter work treats of the progressive use of Confession and Spiritual Direction. *-BENSON, MSGR. ROBERT HUGH (1914) The Friendship of Chribt. Christ in His Church. Paradoxes of Catholicism. BUCKLER, HENRY REGINALD, O.P. Spiritual Perfection through Charity. Spiritual Instruction on Religious Life. Spiritual Considerations. Spiritual Retreat. All are s61id and substantial. CAUSSADE, JEAN PIERRE DE, S.J. (1751 ) Self-abandonment to Divine Providence. Spiritual Letters. , Corn:oft in Ordeals. Ordeals of Souls. Progress in Prayer. The Workings of the Divine Will. The classic writer on abandonment to the will of God. OHAUSZ, OTTO, S:,J. (1939) The Priest and Saint Paul. Light and Shadow in Religious ~'fe. CONSIDINE, DANIEL, S.J. (1923) The Virtues of the Di'vine Child. Con~dence in God. Delight in the Lord. Words o:. Encouragement. EATON, ROBERT, OR. The Sanctuary of Strength. The Ministry of Reconciliation. In Newness ofLife. Divine Refreshme~. The Sword of the Spirit. " The Man of Sorrows. The Garden of God. The Forty Days - " EHL, ANTON The Spiritual Direction of Sisters, translated b)r Felix M. Kitsch, O.F.M.CAP. (A valuable book for superiors.) 118 RECOMMENDED SPIRITUAL BOOKS ELLARD, GERALD, S.d. Christian Life and Worship. (A fine sketch of the liturgical backgrounds bf spirituality.) EYMARD, BLESSED PETER JULIAN (1868) The Divine Eucharist. 4 vols. (A Eucharistic saint writes on his favorite topic.) FENNELLY, BERNARD, C.S.SP. Follow Me. (A comprehensive study of the religious vows from, the canonical and spirit.ual viewpoints.) FILLION, LOUIS C., S.S. (1927) The Life of Christ. 3 vols. (Critical, scholarly, and very read-able. ) FROGET, BARTHELEMY, O.P. Thd Indwelling of the Holy Spirit in the Souls of the Just. (A classic treatise on the supernatural psychology of the soul. Bede 3arrett, O.P., has summarized and adapted it in his "Abiding Presence_ of the Holy Ghost.") GERTRUDE, SAINT (1302 ?) The Exercises of St. Gertrude. Love of the Sacred Heart. The True Prayers of St. Gertrude and St. Mechtilde. GIRARDEY, FERREOL, C.SS.R. (1930) Conference Matter for Religious. 2 vols. (This compilation contains a mine of material for the supe'rior's periodic instructions.) GIRAUD, S.M., M.S. (1885) ~ The Spirit of Sacrifice, edited by Herbert Thurston, S.J. GROU, JEAN NICHOLAS, S.J. (1803) How to Prag. Manual for Interior Souls. The Interior of desus and Mary. 2 vols. The Characteristics of True Devotion. Meditations on the Love of God. Self-Consecration. The School of desus Christ. Spiritual Maxims. HILL, OWEN, S.J. (1930) Cbarit~l and Our Three Vows. 119 RECOMMENDED SPIRITUAL BOOKS JAEGHE'R, PAUL DE, S.J. One wi?h Jesus. The Virtub of Trust. An Anthologg Of Mgst'icism. JARRETT, BEDE, O.P. (1934) The Religious Life. (An attractive brief history of the develop-ment of religious life.) KEMPF, JOSEPH G. New Things and Old. (A psychological treatment of some important aspects Of the religious life.) LAI, GAETANO CARDINAL DE (1928) The Pas'sion of Our Lord. The Real Presence of Jesus Christ in the Eucharist. LEHEN, E. DE, S.J. (1867) The Wag .of Interior Peace. (For the scrupulous.) LEHODEY, ABBOT VITAL, O.C.R. " The Wags of Mental Prager. (One of the °best treatises on the subject.). Hol~t Abandonment. LEPICIER, ALEXIS HENRY CARDINAL (1936). Our Father. Jesus Christ the King of Our Hearts. The Mgsterg of Love. The Eucharistic Priest. The Fairest Flower of Paradise. Behold Thg Mother. Go to Joseph. LESSlUS, VENERABLE LEONARD, S.J. Virtues Awakened. .: Names of God. (This work will help one's knowledge of God.) MASSON,YVES E., O.P. The Christian Life and the Spiritual Life. ascetical theology.) MASTER OF NOVICES The Presence of God. Novices of Our Lord. Both are popular books in novitiates. MCELHONE, JAMES F., C.S.C. Particular Examen. (1623) immensely to deepen (An introducti6n to 1'20 RECOMMENDED SPIRITUAL BOOKS MCNABB, VINCENT, O.P. The Science of Prayer. The Craft of Prayer. The Craft o'f Suffering. Mary of Nazareth. MAUMIGNY, RENE DE, S.J. (1918) The Practice of Mental Prayer. helpful treatise.) MERCIER, D. CARDINAL (1926) Retreat to Priests. God's Way of Mercy. God's Good Cheer. The Life of Our Lord. MEYER, RUDOLPH J., S.J. (1912) The Science of the Saints. 2 vols. 2 VOLS. MIRIAM TERESA, SISTER, SISTERS OF CHARITY Greater Perfection. (A very lucid and (1927) SCHWERTNER, THOMAS M,, O,P, The Rosary. 1933) 121 SCHRYVERS, ,JOSEPH, C.SS.R. The Gift o/: Oneseff. Our Divine Friend. PARSCH, DOM PIUS, O.S.B The Liturgy Of the Mass. Guhte to the Liturgical Year. The Divine O~ice: How to Say It Devoutly and with Pleasure. Commentary on the Little O[[ice B.V.M. These bo6ks are both scholarly and devotional. PETER OF ALCANTARA,, SAINT (1562) Treatise on Prayer and Meditation. ROCHE, ALOYSIUS The Light of the Anxious Heart. Splendour of the Saints. Bedside Book of Saints. The Things that Matter. Fear and Religion. ° ROUVIER, FREDERICK, S.J. (1925) The Conquest of Heaven. (An important little treatise on per-fect charity and perfect contrition.) SCHARSCH, PHILIP, O.M.I. Confession as a Means to Spiritual Progress. SCHEEBEN, JOSEPH M. (1888) The Glories of Divine Grace. RECOMMENDED SPIRITUAL BOOKS SCUPOLI, LORENZO, THEATINE ( 1 610) The Spiritua( Combat: (An oldfavorite.) SHEEN, MSGR. FULTON J. The Mystic'al Body of Chri'st. The Eternal Galilean. SKELLY, A. M., O.P. (1938) Conferences on the Interior Life. 4 vols. Retreat Conferences for Religious Sisterhoods. Conferences on the Religious Life. STEUART, R., S.J. The Inward Vision The World Intangible. Temples of Et, ernitg. STOCKUMS, BISHOP WILHELM The Priesthood. Diversity of Holiness: In Dive'rs Manners. " The Four First Things. Spirituality of the Priesthood. Vocation to the Priesthood. STUART, MOTHER JANET ERSKINE, R.S.C.J. (1914) Highways and By-ways in the Spiritual Life. Prayer in Faith: Thoughts for Liturgical Seasons and Feasts. 2 vols. Two SISTERS OF NOTRE DAME Soul Clinic: An Examination of Conscience /:or Religious Teachers. (A practi_~al .study of the p~ychological. approach to the spiritual problems of religious.) VERNET; FELIX . Mediaeval Spirituality. (Covers the important spiritual writers of the mediaeval Church and giyes a clear outline of ti~ir teaching.) VINCENT DE PAUL, SAINT (1660) Conferences to the Sisters of Charity. 4 vols. Letters, edited by Joseph Leonard, C.M. St. Vincent de Paul and Mental Prayer, by 39seph Leonard, C.M. WADDELL, HELEN The Desert Fathers, edited in the Catholic Masterpiece Tutorial Series. (From the Vitae Patrum, agreat work of mediaeval piety, are translated choice selections revealing the deeds and maxims of the early desert religious.) 122 ommunicaiJons [EDITORS' NOTE: Limited space forced us to omit some points from letters pub-lished in this issue. Most Of these omitted points were repetitions: the other, com-ments will be referred to in our concluding editorial. With the present number, we conclude the communications .on the subject of spiritual direction. If possible, the editorial, summing up the discussion, will be pu~blished in the May number, o We are grateful to our readers for their ¢oopdration in this matter; and we hope that some good will come from it.] '., From Priests Reverend Fathers: My experience of some twenty-five or more years df spiritual direction of nuns and as a retreatmaster has taught me among a good many other points, the following concerning special direction: 1) The initiative should be taken by the penitent or "~piritual . cfiild," not by the confessor or diiector. I have never forgotten the. principle that our Master of Novices gave us with particular reference to Sisters: "Let them find you; don.'t you go looking for them." 2) It seems to me that everyone needs some special spiritual direc-tion during a certain life period--usually a critical life period, when-ever that may be. It is different with every individual. Also, such critical periods, presenting serious problems, may recur: and each time some special direction may be necessary or advisable. But I believe that the director fosters "spiritual babyhood" if he fails to train his charges to stand on their own feet and solve recurring problems (most of which will be along the same lines) with the help of the solutions and counsels received in the past, and tb apply the same old principles to the solution of such new difficulties as may arise. 3) It is my experience that many Sisters want to consult a "special confessor" concerning problems that they could easily" settle either by themselves, with the aid of principles known to them, or by a talk wlth the superior or with another Sister. These are too ready to find the ordinary confessor "ufisatisfactory." 4) As I said, I think it likely to happen to any individual tha~ on occasion he will need special help. And in this regard I should ' like to say that I have found it hard to understand how so many superiors readily avail themselves of this opportunity, yet make it very' difficult for their subjects to have the advantage of ~he same privilege. I consider this ~iltogether uncharitable, to say the least, if not unfair and unjust.~ Signed, etc. . . 123 COMMI.~NICATIONS Reverend Fathers: The confessor oi rel.igious should have a definite plan for the execution of.his task. His program must have but one objective: the increase in his penitents of an intimate union with God. Since this union is achieved principally through the exercise of the supernatural virtues, it seems that goodspiritual direction should partake of an intim, ate and personal acquaintance with the content of Ascetical and Mystical Theology. ~Many .religious, it is true, know these things theo/eticaily; it is the confessor's business to help. them to repeat tl~em systematically and l~racticall~/. I suggest the following method. If the penitent presents some special probl~m, then let the confessor deal with it in a specialized a~id personal way. If there are no special p~roblems, then the con-fessor should tie. prepared to give a two-minute talk on some topic of Ascetical Theology: These talks must be planned and given sys-tematically. In a few words the donfessor should present to each penitent a succinct notion of his subject. He should make it practical and especially directed to stir the soul to ~ction in a given avenue, or at least to inspire the penitent with greater love and generosity in the service of the Master. He .would thus teach a certain part of Asceti-cal Theology and at the same time .help the penitent to conceive a greater and truer sorrow for sin. As a supplementary measuie, the confessor might see that the community has a solid ascetical manual, and suggest the reading of the pertinent pages of the manual for thgt particular week. Also, he might !uggest the subject spoken of as the subject for the particular examen or for some practice of mortification to be chosen by the peni-tent. The following of such a manual ~rould furnish material for at least three .years' direction; and if. the religious penitent "did not ~receive such systematic direction, why. could he not supply it for him~ self? On the occasion of confession, each penitent could study the manual and apply it in the above-mentioned fashion. To give but one illustration. The first step in the spiritual life is the purification of the soul. This is "accomplished by. a positive means, prayer. There is vocal prayer, as well as mental prayer. To do either well, one is in need of a method: The soul is also purified by a struggle against all sin by patient and constant mortification of the passions. There is enough matter in this paragraph for spiritual direction for an entire year. Two months or more could be spent 124 COMMUNICATIONS on the topic of meditation. It is a question of treating a very small portion of each topic at every confession. If one would wish greater clarification, we could offer the following .example:" prayer--con-sider the notion of prayer: its necessity; Christ's example of prayer: the fruits of prayer: the ideal prayer, etc. Signed, etc . . Reverend Fathers: I should like to make these few observations that longexperi-ence has taught me to be practical in regard.to the direction of reli-gious in their weekly confessions. 1. The ordinary confessor is supposed to be a director, but this does not mean that he is expected to give diiection every week. Nor does it mean that whenever he gives some admonition it must have a distinctively personal application--though this latter is desirable. 2. The initiative for spec!al personal direction should usually come from the penitent: but the confessor may be expected to mani.- fest in a reserved, dil~lomatic way .that he is willing eventually to undertake such direction. For a newly-appointed ordinary confes-sor to.tell his penitents bluntly that h'e is eager to do this would be imprudent, also embarrassing for many, e.g. for those who, for one reason or another, do not care to have any personal guidance. "This becomes a nuisance on the whole community, when ordinary con-fessors are changed frequently, and each new one wants a complete manifestation of soul from each penitent. At most, a brief.presenta-tion of tendend~s and leanings of the penitent is sufficient as a basis for safe guidance. 3. Though we cannot question the need of some spiritual guidance, yet the need can easily be exaggerated, especially by Sis-ters. In some senses, religious need much less personal direction than" do those who strive for perfdction outside religion. If they keep their vows and rules faithfully, are conscientious in following their daily routine, listen attentively to the sermons, instructions and conferences given them, and are submissive to their legitimate supe.- riors--they are by these very things following the lead of the Holy Ghost. Signed, etc. 125 CO/v~d~r~ ICATIONS From Sisters . Reverend Fathers: It is my suggestion, as a means of approach, that the confessor give to each penitent, for the first two weeks, a s~ntence or two of a more general, type on a mystery or a saint whose feast occurs during the week. This may help to give a feeling of confidence that the con-fessor is not in to6 much of a hurry and also that he is willing to be helpful to every one. The third week he may begin to give more specific and personal direction based upon the material confessed. This method may give those who desird direction and are not too timid an opportunity to take the initiative and profit by direction. Those who are more timid will have gained enough courage and con-fidence to take the initiative. Those who do not desire, or at least claim that they do not desire, direction, may be won over, since the confessor did notcommence by dictating to them. These souls'~eem to resent going to a confessor, even set a barrier, if he gives the least impression that he" is to dictate to them. If they do not get that first unpleasant impression they more easily fall in line and profit by the direction. Many times they" will not admit it or even fully realize that they are being directed. I wonder if penitents realize the harm'done by gossipy talk about the sacrament or confessor. Some religious have refrained from going to certain confessors because some soul-repeated the direction which was meant for no one else. If each penitent would keep to herself or himseif what is personal direction or reprimand, less harm would result. Let each one learn for oneself whether or not certain confessors are helpful to them as individuals. Whatever may seem to be resented by one may be greatly appreciated and desired by another. A Sister Reverend Fathers: Fr'om my own experience, may I make this one little suggestion to priests who want to give helpful direction to Sisters. I think that priests sh6uld remember that we are not as learned in spiritual mat- . ters as they are; therefore, it is not always enough merely to tell us what our troui31e is. It is frequently necessary to give a little expla-nation of the nature of the trouble, so that we may see for ourselves why things go wrong and how we are toact. A Sister 126 COMMUNICATIONS Reverend Fathers: It seems to me that the question of the necessity of special: spir-itual direction is in danger of being overstressed onone side and not su~ciently understood on the other. In his Spiritui~t Conferences, Father Faber says: "Sometime~ people go to confession only for the purpos~ of direction. They use a great sacrament merely as a handle or. occasion for something else, for another purpose; ihdeed .a very good one, but a very inferior and subordinate one." Father Faber thinks this fault more common with converts: but I think that it is not infrequent with some Sisters. A Mother Superior Reverend Fathers: There is just one point that I sincerely trust you .will bring out before you close, .namely, that any soul. who practises sincere devo-tion to the Holy Ghost and aims at acquiring a spirit of abandon-ment will always receive spiritual guidance when it is needed. We should all like regular help; but women must be careful not to seek it too much, for, while gratifying, it is not always necessary. Where I am we have schools in so many towns where only the pastor is available that it takes much faith to be resigned: yet, if a miracle is necessary God will perform it for any religious who prays, to the Holy Ghost and practises .abandonment. I have also experienced this when seeking to assist children to return to "God after, a first mortal sin. A Sister Reverend Fathers: In view of past experiences as Mistress of Novices and Abbess of a community of contemplative nuns, I shouid like to express an opin-ion concerning the spiritual direction of nuns. It seems to me that there has been so much written on the subject that it has caused confusion in many minds. We are a strictly clois: tered order, but we enjoy the liberty of conscience that active, unclois-tered religious do, in so far as that is~" possible. However, we have little occasion to know any priests once we have entered here, with the exception of our confessors, retreat-masters, and chaplains--and the latter generally do not hear our confessions. This gives us little choice for confession or spiritual direction other than the priests we thus meet in the course of'our religious life. We may ask for a special spir.- 127 COM~IUNICATIONS itual director and l~ave him come every week. This has been done; but imagine if each of our 40 or 50 Sisters m~de such a demand! They all have the right, if one has. One might thinl~ that cloistered religious shciuld t~ke their-ordi-. nary confessor for ~piritual director. But I have not found many of thes~ wiio understand the enclosed contemplative life. Confessors are apt to judge their penitents' difficulties and trials from the standard of tl~eir own experiences. 'Hbw else can they judge them? Yet, to und'~rstand the enclosed life fully, one must either live it or have unusual depth of understanding. Is the result, then, that we cannot get or do not need spiritual direction? I should say it is neither. Cloistered religious need spiritual direction, but not to the extent that is g.enera.lly implied¯ I think that in general ."over-direction" has .done more harm than insufficient dire~tion. Of ~ourse, I cannot speak for active, but only for contemplative, ~eligious. The following about explains our case:The circumstances of our .daily lives and our daily trials, etc., are pretty much the same. over a period of years. Our occasions for practising virtue, breaking rules, etc., arc also about the same. Our life is not monotonbus, as s0ir.- Jtual writers so often pityingly tell us it is. We who are called to it and live it know it.is not. It is full from morning till night, ~nd monotony finds no pla.ce in it, in spite of the sameness of people. place, prayers, and. work. . (Can the.~spiritual life ever.be monot-onous?) This brings me to what I want to say: that, though we all heed spiritual direction, we do not need it week. after week or even month after month. Based on past experience, [ feel safe in making the statement that the fervent religious is the one who' needs the least direction. She who is faithful to the. inspirations of grace, to her duties; to the self-abnegation required of her to live in love" and h~rmony with her f~llow-religious, generally knows by the light of the Holy Ghost,- the directions of her rule and her superiors, what she is to do-- provided, of course, she has been properly instructed in her novitiate days, Her' iiaterior advancement is of the slow, quiet and, I might add, safe kind: her occasional difficulties "are generally solved between ¯ herself and her confessor, retreat-master, or superior. What of the one whose step grows lax, whose petty jealousies, .pride, self-love, self-will, and lack of self-denial create constant trouble and difficulties' for her? She needs direction, indeed: but she 128 COMMUNICATIONS needs more to take hold of herself and make herself realize that no spiritual director can make.her holy, but only herself~ by doing the things she knows full well she should do. She makes difficulties for herself and others, then looks for a director to get her out of them. She spends long periods in the confessional; and often this has just the effect' it should not have: it gives her an air of importance, a notion that she has a :'special" mission in life, instead of humbling her. It seems to me that when direction has this effect it should be brought to a quick termination. I do not mean to say that spiritual direction is unnecessary. But I think that when the saints spoke of its necessity they did not always mean that it must be given by word of mouth. Our found-ers, whose spirit is contained in our rules, give us their directions and demands in those rules. Also, we have spiritual reading and medi-tation, or should I say interior prayer: and we have the guidance of the Holy Ghost. I do admit that the scrupulous religious may"need much direc-tion; and I think that superiors should be considerate of them and get them a suitable director. Also I know that there have been and still are extraordinary souls who need extraordinary spiritual direc-tion; and may God bless them with an understanding guide. Then there are the problems that at times will confront a mistress of nov-ices- or superior. These must be gone over at length; though gener~ ally they do not fall under th~ heading of spiritual problems, except in so far as .superiors must act according to justice and their con-sciences. This is particularly true of such" problems as cannot or had better not be discussed at a council meeting. Perhaps I am only trying to be important by airing these views to you. Forgive me if I am; and drop this into the waste-basket. A Mother Superior 129 SOUL CLINIC. An Exam;nation of Conscience for Religious Teachers. By Two Sisters of Notre Dame, Cleveland, Ohio. Pp. x -{- 200. Fred- ~ erick Pustet Co., New York, 1943. $2.00. The first part of this excellent wori~ is entitled, "The Psychologi-cal Approach to our Spiritual Problems," and it begins by laying" down "General Principles." The great purpose of religiousteachers is to cultivate a Christlike character in. themselves and in their stu-dents. The. general formula is: motives, ha,bits, character. Motives may be bad or good, natural or supernatural, and one's habits and character will be just such i~s one's motives. Motives reach the will through the mind and heart. Motives of a particular kind will be accepted if they be considered sufficiently valuable. If the mind be kept filled with true values, good emotions naturklly will arise in the heart, and good attitudes in the will. If these be maintained, good habits and a good ~haracter are the result. Hence, to form a Christ-like character; appropriate, as far as possible, Christ's ways of thinking, His .estimations of values, and the emotions of His Heart; Christlike habits of will and a Christlike character will follow. - "We have failed to stabilize our wills by fusing them with the Will of God ¯ . . And why .d~d we so fail? Because we did not build up strong motivation on the basis of Christ's thoughts and emotions. To express it in another way, we failed to use the time for meditation, .reading, examination of conscience, to fill our souls with the thoughts ¯ and emotions of Christ. We did not convince ourselves of the great-ness of eternal values: divine love, everlasting riches, hohor, and pleasures. These considerations would have furnished us with pow-erful motives to command our Weak wills' to seek,the things° above as our Lord enjbined repeatedly" (p. 13). Another idea from psychology of which much use is made is the theory of instincts. Three of these are discussed at some length, namely~ the superiority instinct, the social instinct, and the self-preservation instinct, called also the reproductive or love instinct. The writers point out the original divine purpose of these fundamental ¯ human tendencies, the deviations to which they are.only too liable, and the ways in which they ought to be re-directed and sublimated to supernatural .ends. 130 BOOK REVIEWS Several¯ tables of motives, natural and supernatural, of the habits of a Christlike personality,~ and of the values, transient-and perma2 nent, are given to aid thdse who will seek in this book a method of therapy for their moral maladies. .Under the heading, "Mary in Character-education," the character of the Blessed Virgin is sketched as exemplifying, ideally and con-cretely, the psychological and spiritual principles and methods pro-posed. This treatise, a!ready very good, could be made still bett~r ~much more emphasis were placed on the cardinal importance of ade-quat'e, realistic appreciation of the greatvalues, both in initiating good habits and in strengthening them. One statement that is made and. repeated seems to call for a theological comment. Though the worth of natural motives is well expressed and the utilization of them by Christians is not at all discountenanced, it is said that they are not meritorious for eternity:' But, to.judge from the autho.rity of t.heo- ¯ logians, all who are in the state of grace may hope to find that all their deliberate actions, except only their sinful ones, have merited an in-crease of grace and glory. It would be more surely correc~ to say that to act from merely natural" motives ma~t not be meritorious, or, if supernatural motivation be required, then in all probability the con-dition will be verified in a person acting well while in the staie of grace. The second part of the book gives twenty-five detailed examlna-tibns of conscience, personality, and character. These are designed and arranged both so as to correbpond to the sequenceof the ligurgical year.and to cover the chief points that one must keep in mind to re-model one's personality and build up a character that is like to.that. of Christ.~G. A. ELLARD, S.J. CHAPTERS IN RELIGION. By ÷he Reverend C. A. Prindeville, (3.M., S.T.D. Pp. 354. B. Herder Book Co., St. Louis, 1942.$2.00, ¯ A book which attempts to review the.whole of faith and morals in 350 phges is bound to be superficial. Theology cannot be packed into a match-box or sketched on a thumbnail. But what the Cate-chism does, in a pamphlet, for the child mind, this moderately.sized volume does, without the Catechism7s interplay of question and answer, for the more developed adult comprehension. One cannot but marvel at the author's ability to say so much in so few words. 131 BOOK REVIEWS. The book begins by showing what the Church teaches about God, the one nature and the three Persons. ,In brief chapters it proceeds to narrate what revelation'states about Creation and Orig-inal Sin, the Redeemer and His Mother, the Church, Grace and Vir-tue, Sacraments and Sacrifice, the Ten Commandments. It ends, as is right, with the Last Things. Ari index makes the work prac-ticable for reference. The author's grasp of theok)gy is extensive and profound. But he has seen fit to disclose his vast knowledge in a language of ou.tmoded rhetoric which writers of. Catholic books sometimes think must be used. The infinite beauty of G6d is brought out by com-parison, witb""gorgeous sunsets and starlit heavens; the majestic heights of the mountain range, the ocea'n in its va, rying moods of calm or storm, the alluring loveliness in the human face and' form,'" and so on, in words solemn and trite. There occurs even an occa-sional "pe.rcbance." The style is generally clear but dry. Priests and religious are sometimes asked to recommend for con- .verts o~ inquirers a readable b6ok that presents Catholic" doctrine with completeness but brevity. They are embarrassed when they " cannot, and wish someone would write such a work. This volume is almost the answer to their prayer.--C. VOLLERT, 8.J. A SHORT BREVIARY F.OR RELIGIOUS AND THE LAITY. Edited by ,. the MonEs of St.' John's Abbey. Pp. 766.' The Lifurglcal Press, lecje~,ille, Minn. Second edition. 1942. $2.85. ~ By way of providing a Lay Brothers' Office, the monks of St. ~lohn's Abbey have abbreviated the. breviary. They put us all in their debt by thus giving us the cream of t~e entire office, in an . ¯ ,arrangement wisely built up mostly of the Psalms carefully selected, even slightly annotated by rubrication. It will indicate their pro-cedure to sthte that the short Matins have three Psalms and one les-son. Lauds and Vespers each four Psalms, all the other Hours one each, but with the structure and arrangement, and spirit, of the entire Office carefully preserved. The book's vhysical features seem perfect:~the paper is good; the type clear and sharp; the printing in black and red: the binding~ in stout leatherette with four sewed-in ribbon markers; and for a price well within a po0r'man's pocketbook. These facts have !32 BOOK RE'~iIEWS helped sell the first edition in short order: a much larger edition now issues from the press. We have lately heard of religious congregations adopting a modified form ,of Divine Office in lieu of the 'community prayers' formerly said daily in common. We venture to predict, that this Short Breviarg will offer strong incentive for further such adop-tions. But ~a~ide from such common use, the book will provide any one, priest, Brother, Sister, with prayer-book and meditation-book needs, and offer a chance to sample that endless round of psalmody, so conspicuous in the" official homage paid by the Church to God. --- GERALD ELLARD, S.J. THE OUR FATHER. B'f the Most Reverend Tihamer Toth. Translated by V. G. Acjotal. Edited by the Reverend Newton Thompson, S.T.D,~ Pp. 314. B. Herder Book Co., St. Louis, 1943. $2.75. The experienced reader knows that he must frequently make allowances for published sermons. In its original setting, a sermon may leave nothing to be desired: from the printed page, it too often makes one regret that he can only read wl~at was meant to be heard. For those unacquainted with Bishop Toth's writings, we give assurance that his published sermons labor under little if any handi-cap. To read any one of them is to come under the spell of a wise, experienced, holy, very practical friend and counsellor. His Excel-lency is never the conscious orator. Rather he. is the shepherd of gouls, on!y concerned that the living waters of God's truth be made available for his charges. He is clear, orderly, interesting, with special talent for apt illustration or anecdote. Because the style is so simple, direct, informal, the reader easily becomes an attentive listener in the presence of a master conversationalist. This, the ninth volume of Bishop Toth's sermons to be made available in English translation, contains twenty-eight sermons on such fundamemental subjects as Belief in God, Life Worthy of Man, Our Father, Creator and Lord. Children of God, Brotherhood of Man, Brothers of Christ, Heaven or Earth, Suffering, Honor and Praise of God, Art and Habit of Prayer, and Intellectual and Eco-nomic Life. Taken together, the series comments on the text of the Our Father, although each sermon is a unit by itself. The book is highly recommended for either community or private spiritual reading, and for meditation subject-matter.--C. DEMUTH, S.J. 133 BOOK REVIEW~ THE SPIRITUAL DIREC;TION OF SISTERS. By the Reverend A. Ehl. Adapted from the German by the Reverend Felix M. Kirsch, O. M. (~ap., Ph.D., Llff.D. Pp. xlx + 483. Benzlger Brothers, New York. $3.75. In its six major divisions this .compact but comprehensive man-ual treats of Religious Vocations, the General and Special Problems pertaining to the Direction of Sisters, the Principal Mean~ e~ployed in their Direction, Canonical Regulations concerning Sisters, and the Obligations of the Vows. A brief introduction explains some can-onical terms. Father Kirsch has'jUdiciously adapted the material to American readers and has added a valuable bibliography. In general, the book is excellent: complete, sound, practical. An enumeration of its specific good pgints would be too lengthy. Suffice to say that it should be very helpful to confessors or directors of Sis-ters, as well as to all priests and seminarians. By reading it, ,supe-riors of Sisters would get a better understanding not only of the work of the confessor, but of the whole religious life. o ¯ It seems advisable to indicate here some points that might puzzle the reader. The author is too much addicted to "must": he does not distinguish with sufficient care between what he counsels and what he really considers of obligation. Moreover, although he apparently wanted to help. the average priest commissioned with the spiritual care of Sisters, yet the comprehensiveness of the work and the indiscrimin'ate references to "the priest," "th.e confessor," "the spiritual director," create the impression that he has in mind a priest who spends his whole time in a convent.~ In fact, the seminarian anal young priest might be con'fused, even discouraged, by the mul~ tiplicity of details. Better for them to read the book for the general impression, then return to the details when this knowledge is required. Regarding the confessor in particular, the author seems prone to have him mix too much in external affairs. As one instance of sev-eral, I cite the following: "The confessor should not dismiss lightly the complaints that may be made by the superior on the above points (i.e. abuses regarding religious exercises), but should diligently inquire into the matter." I fail to see how a confessor is justified in using the complaints of-the superior as a handle-for any ques-tioning of. his penitents.---G. KELLY, S.J. 134 BOOK REVIEWS A BOOK OF SIMPLE WORDS. By a Sister of Notre Dame (de Namur). Pp. 240. P.J. Kenedy & Sons, New York, 1942. 1;2.00. In simple words the author has given us the~ result of much study--study of the peisonality: of Christ. Thecharm and natural-ness of an essay are brought to this series of spiritual reflections. The book might be said to tell the ~tory of Christ's public life. It is selective in that the author has ~hosen from the Gospel story inci-dents revealing the facets of the personality of Christ" too often over-looked or little realized in our reading of the evangelists. A careful,. . prayerful reading of this book will give more than knowledge: it is meant to lead the reader to ~ personal experience of Jesus Christ.' Lacking entirely the formalism of 'a manual, the book should prove in~erdsting and profitable as a source of suggestions for medi-tation. A miracle" is recounted; a~ lesson suggested, or attention called to ~-phase of tl~e Savior's character: a brief and pertinent exhortation is given; artistically the author appeals to three facub ties of the soul: the memory, intellect, and will. The truths pro. posed and the lessons logically drawn are solid, but expressed in a language that sometimes draws attention to itself because of emo-tional expression and occasional cliches. The publisher has pro-vided a medium of expression worthy.of the thought, for. the. printing is attractive, even artistic.-~M. D. CURRIGAN, S.~J. THE PATER NOSTER OF SAINT TERESA. Translated and adapted by the Reverend William J. Doheny, CLS.C~,, J.U.D. Pp. ~x -t- IS0. The Bruce Publishing Gompany, Milwaukee, 1942. Gloth, !;I.50; paper, $1.00. Thi~ work is simply,the concluding portion of St. Teresa's The Wa~/of Perfection. Since its subject-matter is sublime, and since it is from the seraphic heart and the classical" pen of the great Spanish Princess of Mystics, it needs no commendation. By way of introduction and to establish the setting, Father Doheny gives excerpts (28 pages) from the preceding chapters of The Way. In these will be found some of St. Teresa's ideas and exhortation~ on such things as religious poverty, c.harity, detach-ment, and the need of praying for preachers and scholars. In reality nearly all the chief points'of the .religious life are touched upon briefly. In this treatise on the "Our Father" occurs the well-known 135 BOOK REVIEWS account of a nun who once went to St. Teresa in a: state of the o greatest desolation because she could not, like other companions of "the Carmelite foundress, practice mental prayer and "raise herself to contemplation. ~ Upon questioning .her as to how she did pray, St. Teresa found out that the unhappy sister was accustomed to "recite the Lord's prayer in such a way as at the same time to arrive "at the prayer of pure contemplation. Our Lord raised.her even .to the prayer of union. It was evident . . . that she had received.the highest ~a.vors in prayer" (page 52). At the end of her commentary St. Teresa writes: "If we under-stand how we ought to recite the .Pater Noster perfectly, we .shall know how to recite all other vocal prayers. See how our Lord has assisted me.in this work. He has taught both you and me the .way. of perfection . I assure you that I never dreamed this prayer contained such deep secrets. You will notice that it sums up the entire spiritual life, from its first begir~ning to that point where soul is 10st entirely in God." " . If. one were to say the "Our Father," especially the third peti-tion, "Thy will be done," realizing and meaning thoroughly,:p.rac-tically, and persistently, what one s~ys, then one would be very ho!y indeed.--G. A. ELLARD, S.,l. TEN BLESSED YEARS. By Clara M. Tiry. Pp. 306. The Apostolate of Suffering, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, 1939. $ l.S0. HAPPY HOURS WITH CHRIST. By Clare M. Tiry. Pp. 187. The Bruce Publ~shincj~ Company, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, 1940. $I;75. A unique society has come into existence in the city of Milwau-" kee in recent years ~nd'has spread throughout the country, In 1926 a young woman in Milwaukee, v~h0 had been weighed down with "constant sickness from babyhood, conceived the idea of establishing a society whereby, the sick and all others Who have any kind of suf-fering whatever to bear could be united together, in offering it God. With the assistance of the present bisl~qp of Fargo, N. D., the Most Reverend Aloysius J. Muencb, who at the. time was serving in the capacity of assistant pastor in a Milwaukee parish,. the Apost01at.e of Suffering was established. Ten Blessed Years tells the story of the Apostolate in the words c;fits foundress, Miss Clara M. Tiry. Through the Cathblic Press in the United States the Apostolate was brodght to the attentidn of 136 BOOK REVIEW~ the'suffering, and the society grew rapidly in membership. The book gi~es an account of the activities of the Apostolat~ and'a short sketch of the life of its patron saint, St. Lidwina of Schiedam, a fifteenth century Dutch girl. In the foreword Bishop Muench tells of the .spirit that animates the Apostolate: "Through the Apostolate ~bey feel again the healing hand of Christ, Who loved the sick. It is like balm on a burning wound--Christ's consola-tion that life is yet worth while: that the sick may share in His redemptive work." .°Happy Hours with Christ is a collection of twenty-seven groups of meditations, prayers and spiritual readings for ~he sick. They are appropriately arranged according to the various liturgi-cal seasons. Through them the sick are brought to a deeper realiza-tion of their mighty vocation of suffering and are enabled to bear their pain with greater love and generosity.--W. 3. "BURTON, S.3. HOPE OF LIFE. By Sister Monica, Ph.D. Pp. vii + 162. P. J. Kenedy & Sons, New York, 1942. $1.35. This tersely written little book from the talented pen of a well-known historical and spiritual writer is intended primarily for reli-gious, although the la~ person will find in it much food for reflec-tion. The author writes of death, dreaded death: but death, the door to life. Only a soul. that has loved much both God and man and has meditated long on a personal God could have made these reflections. Some undertaking fails, friends turn against us, love is spurned. And we sit at the roadside brooding. I am so unimporta.nt. But I am important to God. He wants me. When the supreme moment comes, why is it that we die alone? We bare a longing for com-pany, a craving for human s~mpatby. But there comes a time when~ human sympathy will not satisfy; we must have the divine. Let me cling to God. I must keep my heart clean in its impulses and its choices; I must keep my gaze clean, or I lose the way. Arrived at my home I shall find hap
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Review for Religious - Issue 03.6 (November 1944)
Issue 3.6 of the Review for Religious, 1944. ; for Reh NOVEMBER ~! 5, 1944 t '~ (~°uesfions. Answered,' I Ind~=x tOVolumeThree ,~ ":RE, I EW "FOR R G-IOUS ¯ , "VOL0~ I~I - NOVEMBFR I~, 19.44 - No. 6., CONTENTS- ~ PIUS XII ON BIBLE STUDIES Clemen~J. MeNa.sp~, S.J .3.6.1 SCRIPTURE IN,THE CHRISTMAS LITURGY~Robert G. North, S.J. 3~68 '~. BOOKLET NOTICES '. .~. . ~t~OOM FOR THE EBONY CHRIST?John E.! Coogan, S.J. 377 ~ OUR CONTRIBUTORS " A HUNDR'ED YEARS OF' APOSTOLIC PRAYER~ Alban J. Dachauer. S.J .~. 385 . THE DEGREES' O~: PRAYER~Edward J. McNally, S.J .391 BOOKS RECEIVED , . . . . ~ . " ; . 40l RELIGIOUS PROFESSION: A SECOND BAPTI~M?~Ja~es E.RIsk, S,3,,,, ;~.402 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS~ - -._ , Abbreviating'the Postulancy: Obligation~ to go to Ordinary Confessor: " Commut~)ty Doctbr and Secrecy: ~Dispensa~tion from Eucharistic Fast: ~ Obligafion of Novice to make a Will: Converts and Ent~'ance into Reli- , g~on: Use bf Money given for Specified Purpose: PortiuncuJa~ Indulgence i~ Churches of Third Order Regular: Holding Bd'ads, for Cr6zier Indul-gence: Time for Saying. Little O~ce:" Questioning of Boys by So¢ial~" Workers: Novitiate without Isolation or.Novice Mistress: Transfdr from ¯ " Activ~ to Cloistered Instit~ute: Re-admission to Religious Life; Division of Institute into Provinces. ~.- " . . . . 410 BOOK REV, IEWS (Edited by Clement DeMuth, S.J.) ° . The Ascetical Life: A World to Re¢gnst~ruct; Paul of Tarsus: The Pas-torabCar( of'Souls: Molders 6f the Medieval Mind: Canonical Procedure in Martimonial Cases: Voll II, Informal Procedure: Abridgment ,of the Interior Spirit of the Religious of the Visitation: Maryknoll~ Missi6n Let-terL Vol. I, 1944": Dea¢onship: Conferencel on the Rite of OrdinatiOn; Our Lady's Praise in Poetr~ . " . ' ~ . 42 INDEX TO VOLUME III. ' . ; ~ . 42'8 "~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. November. 1944. Vol. III. No. 6.: Publish¢d bi-monthly: ~lantlary. March. May. duly. September. and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Stfeet, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary'~s College, St. Marys; " Kansas, with ecclesiastical al~prob;ition. Entered as second class matter danua~y 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas; under the act of March 3, 1879. ~Editoria[_Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.d., G. Aughstine Ellard, 8.J., Gerald Kelly, "~.~I,~ Copyright. 1944. b~ Adam C. Ellis. Permission is hereby,granted for'quotations of reasonable I~ngth, provided due credit be given this review and the aut-l~r~. SubScription price: 2~dollars a year: Printed in U. S. A. Before writin(J to us. please consult notice ~n inside back cover. Pius XII on'. Bible $ udies Clemer~t J. McN.aspy, S.J. ~.~,IHEN Rome speaks it is always news: when Rome ~W ¯ speaks in the solemn form of an encyclical it ~is l~ead- line ne~s, But whim" the,Holy. Father gives a pro- , nouncement on Scripture, the whole Catholic learned world feels especially, concerned. It is .now-just .over a year since ,o-the Pope sent out his.encyclical on Bible" studies, called by its oPCning words Divino.A~ante Spi.rim (that is, "Under ,th~ Inspiration of theDivine Spirit':'~). Even, before actuhl. copies We.re available in America.interest was so higla~that 'arti~les beg~,n appearing ~n Catholic, publications of: all ,tyises . -: T~ue,. this encyclical;is~.lar~ge!y directed .to pri~sfs, seminarians, arid theology teachers, Whose. profdssion plainly'has to. do with preachi~ng and studying God's ii~Si~ired word. Yet. the H01y Father speaks to the lait~ 'too and invites them to become outstanding in studies d.eal.ing with the Bible. For they too can "render a. con-spicuous service to the Christian cause." ' ¯ ". . Bi'shops are urged fo "effcourage all th,6se initiatives by ivhi~h men . . . laudably strive to excite and foster among ,.Catholics a greater, knowledge of and love for th~ SacrCd Books." They are to favor '.'those pious associations whose aim it is, to spread copies of ~theoSacred Letters, especially of. the Gospels, among the Faithful and to pr6cur~ by every means that in Christian families the same be read daily, with .~piet~r and devotion." All the more would this seem-to apply to religious 7families," particularly th6se whosd regular program of ~ s~tudies-d~es not a11ot,c.ourses in Scr!pture. To. use the Holy_ Father's words again, if the faithful "are to be nourished CLEMEN'I~ ~J. ~ MeNASPY -~ " Review ~ fo~ Religious °with .thiS same food that:they may, draw fro'~ thence~the~¯ khowle~dge and"lov~ ~f-God a~nd."t~he pr?gress~mperfectton and' the happiness of their own souls," evidently h~does not mean to exclude those striving to live the very~of~ulness of the Christian life:~ - The new encyclical'~is now easily available. Tran~l~- tionshave.appeared in rr;any dio(esan newspapers; th, e May oissue.-of The Catholic Mind c6ntains one, which is being* publish_ed in, pamphlet~ form by America Pres r ry n fafe .cat i v e prayer. ~ ;- o Is there .a ~ype of contemplativ'e~ prayer, wl~kh we can - bring about at leasi: partially by. our'own efforts? It is importar~t to grasp the question at issue" here. Since ~all: me~ritorious prayer requires grace for its performance, we _~are2not ihquiring into our :ibility, to contemplate ,~'ithofit gr~ic~, but Whether, by utilizing the graces which are2avail, -~able. ~to all Christians, we can positively, help in building 6ur owns.ability to pra_y contemplativ~ly. The contra.ry sfippositio~n is that all contemplation, is infused and that we are restricted to-remov.igg the obstacles to such pra~ye?~ Then ~t would be given, finally as. a pure gift of God ~"-. 6ut any infallible causal 'connection with 0hr preparator~r acts. The atlthors v~e are following maintain that there °~n acquired contemplation. Father DeGuibert cites, f~r :thi~ ~ ~po~ition such le~di~ig auth6rities asoSt. Thomas Aquinai,i-~. St. Teresa, and St. 3bhn of the Cross. Experience confirms this teaching and reason would-lead. us.to expect it, For just as in " natural sdehce and ,philosophy when one has become thoroughly, familiar with his subject, he c~an find.mental repose in contemplating the ' ~rderliness 6f the system oftruths he hSs learned, so ih th~ ~bnsideration of the truths of faith, one. would be prone.to ,-,_~ @pect~ that a similar stage Would be reached iri due time2 The practical moment of holding this position is tl~at it~ .-founds the~convic~ion . that contemplatige prayer, admit-.~ .tedly a most efficacious means of spiritual progress, ~s ~. wlthin, the grasp of all and will certainly l~e our~,~ provided. w~ make the necess~ary efforts. _ . >. Method in Disdursioe Prag~r ~ ' 0f~ the forms ~of pi:a~rer thus far considered, discursive. EDWARD.:J. MCNALLY . ~ Reoietu for Religious~ ,, prayer is the only 6ne which may properly bE said,t~ be ~ go~rerned~ by method: These methods have been worked " °out in accord wiith~sup~rnatural prudence and so do" not oppose, obht work' alon~g with, the 0.pera.tions 6f ~race," At' all times it is to be borne in mind that they.are intended' as means to subserve God's _sanctifying influence ~upon the. " soul and-are to be adhered to precisely in the degree that they are helpful to this end. Gerierally speaking, the use of ¯ method°is a real need for those beginning to pray mentally. Not infreq,u~ntly also those who have been p.raying-for., some~years are still unabie at times to make~ use of the ~. simpler forms of prayer profitably; in such cases method sh6uld be followed; ' We find that the various methbds of prayer in use~in the Church ,possess certain common elements. Thus, all methods-insist on ~he importance of the remote prepara-ti0n)~-, This is summed up. by Father De Grandmaison as follows. One ought always sinceiely to pu~ the thin'igs~'of' "God in the highest placd. He shohld trust that intimate friendship with God is possible and relatively easy. should practise self-denial. It will make prayer easy if ond seeks God:in all things, practises interiorsilence~ and tries to put. on the sentiments of Christ Himself. " : 0 ~ According to.-the Ignatian methOd, .which is quite. widely practised today,, the proximate preparation iricludes ¯ a choice of material for prayer.- It shows reverence for God 15y~spending 'some time beforehand in fixing on what we .are to consider in prayer. Furthermore, "the pray~er itself is mdre deeply r~cdllected as a result,-since the entire time of °~rayer can be' spent i~n direct relationship with God and not. ~in the extraneous business of deciding what the~prayer is to-be about. For morning prayer, if'khd preparation be made the evening before, this me'thod has the added adv.an.tageof .enlisting the sub~onsci6us activity of the preceding night ih 394 Of humility and re;terence, and a petition for grace to.rn'ake~ -. the prayer weli. The use of a composition off.place is recom- o --* mended if the subject is an event in our Lord's life, in order ~ ihat thus the'one-praying may as it were projedt himself into the scene. Its use in subjects that are not historica!,bi~t ihvisible,, f3r example, a theological truth, is not favored ~by all. Utility to the individual seems to be the final test~'.- 'here. ~ " .THE DEGREES' OF~ PR)gYE~ the cause of'player. Th~ matter :chosen~-should fit the. needs and inclinatibns of~each one:" The start o~f the player .will, include an act of redalling the presence of God, an act~ An important question is" whether a definite~grace~ sl~ould .~" ~- be sought., Here a distinction is ~o ~be made between the time'of making the Spiritual Exdrcisesof St: Ignatius (for "one who.makei t.hem)and, ordinary daily'prayer. Durifig the Exercises, . the petition for the grace appropriate to each~ exercise is clearly essential, since the Exercises are a cohesix;e wtiole wherein each grace prepares for the succeeding . ~n the other hand, in daily prayer such a specific petition is not hlways required. Yet it is well tO make it frequently in -o~der t9 have definite, sp~ritua.1 aims. The dose of the .prayer should be more directly ~concerndd with God and have some bearing on the p~esent day's endeavor. A definite" resolution, however, may not always be needful ~ince th~ prayer is sufficiently prhctical if therd is a general up!.ifting ,of the heart:saffectibns to God or if a clearer grasp of a truth~ of fai~:h be gaine.d. The fbllowing suggestio.n~ g6v- '~rn the" prayer itself: 1) One 'should Stay where one findsdevotton'-' ~and as l~on~ a.~ one does so. ~ .2) Mote value is to be put on ~he affections of the heart and will than on intellectual considerations. - 3) Yet as the will's affections spring from ~hat the mind apprehends, the intellectual acts are not .to.~ be.-, cut 395 ED~CARD" d. ~McNALL¥~ " ~ )- '-~ Reuiew ,f6i- R~liqious "- ~ -short, prematurely:. ~4) The fUil.time'is to. be given to. pra:yer dedpite desola-. "-tibn. ~" 5) Violent efforts to seek devotion should be avoided. In itself, the e~irly morning se~ms the best-time" for-m~ iking mental prayer, sirice at that tim~ the mind is riot ~yet taken up With the responsibilitie~ of thd "day's work. .Yet if fatigue is too noticeable then,.some other tim~ free f.rom ii~ter.ruptions, i~ preferable. -This' latter suggestion. " applies to those for :whom th-~ time of prayer is not fixed' by ': rule. The posture should be the one most suitable to Obtain the fruit.desired and foi.due reverence:" ¯ - Timel~j:Trarldtions to Higher Forms o~ Pr.a~ter ¯ , .It i~-important that.~he transitions, first fr6m discursive to-affective'prayer and then from affective to contemplative :, prayer, occur at the proper times. To dela~; them.too 1,o.ng would be unnecessarily to render prayer tedious.and to fail to take advantage of the grace God intends for the soul. On '~ the other hand, to encourage the affective or contemplative way befor~ the grace for it is offered would be an atte ~mpt" -.c.ertain to fail., Hence it is important for the director to be ¯ able to recognize the Ordinary signs of a call to'these types of .prayer. The .principal test is the one suggested b~r[ St. Teresa, that the prayer rnu.st produce its effect upon the [,whble life of ~he individuaE by making him more humble, mpr¢closely united with God, and more careful to perform-[ well the duties of his state of life. Besides thi~, there~hould be at least equal facility in" the more. advanced-prayer. In addition to these two principal"criteri_a two others will help. -, recognize a call. They are a distaste for' discursiv~ p~aye'r. ~an~. a persistent attraction for affeCtive prayer: These. lat-'. ter t~o.signs may be called supplementary, as they are not ,always present. ~ Sqme personsad'vance early~to affectjveprayer. In such. ~-:~ casesch~e {s ~obe tak4n cha~ 5~ o~her means--for~examPle, - -~:,.6y conferences and re~ding--s~ch p~rsons'attain tothe deep unders[anding and,personal convictions of the great otruths ": ~ " of the-spiritual life and of their obligations that ordinaril~ a~e the result of discursive prayer. ~, -~ Dan~ers to Be A6oided ¯ Even after one is practising affe~tive praCer and shoul~ ~ bd practising it, certain dangers are to be watched fo~: One of these dangerd is a tendency toward too-violent excitgtion 6f affections ~hich usually occurs when one is laying stress on the sensible emotions instead of the will's determination. be ~givefi in order that affective or "contemplative prayer be : ~ ~ ,made with the g~eatest possible fruit. Another danger is that of spiritual gluttony for "sensible. onsolations. This caff le~d to a "neglect.of the duties.of, one's state of life ,in order noYto be deprived of anysensible consolation. There is also daniier Of presumption based on the judgment that one'must.be far ahead of others.spir-~- itually since one is enjoying great intimacy.with God. , Similarly, acquired ,conteinplation is also attended'b~r ~ certain' spiritual darigers. For example, there may be'dejec-. tion. of mind when this contemplation; at first very swe_et,:- o he.crimes arid and tasteless.: Or one may conceive a gr~eat rep~ugnance for making any distinct act.of the mind, such. as reasomng, even though impelled thereto by grace. A~in: dne. m~iy presume to despise 16wet forms o_f. prayer. Fin~ill y, laziness an,do a superficial spiritual life may derive-from a lack of cooperation with the. graces ,of contemplative prayer. ~ Hence. speaking_p~sitive!y, the following advice might 1) Solid and fundamental~ virtues are:to be rather than subjectively, plea~ing experiences. ,2) Greater recollection should be cultivated. :[.3) The examination of.consciefi~e is" to b~ kept up and - gr3ater purity of consci¢.nc.~ sought. " ., 4) No inspirati.on .of g~race should be disobeyed. " Even for those pr.actising these more advanced forms of .,~ : prayer preparation of material is recomm~n~l~d. °This.!may ~be done more simply than formerly. Thus, the subject chosen might merel, y be a' passage from Holy Scripture ~in, event in a saint'slife, or a certain, supernatural affection "of the will[ The Night of the Senses ¯ " -Th, e,final-pre, p~ratiofi of a soui for the gift of habitual rhysti~al" prayer is almost always the first passive nightof" >the soul, known as the nigh.t of the .senses. This is ch~iracte~- ized by a .great ari,dity. There is a simple memory' of God ~hich persists throughou~ prayer. This is the one constant -~ttraction of the mihd and 'it endures more or less inde-~ pehde,ntl~r of the will. S0metlmes .this i"nemory has conso-la'tion in it. '-MUch more commonds a painfu~ and persist-ent need, of a closer union with. GOd. Those who h~re already had some transient experiences w.ith consoling mysticalprayer can define wha't they Want:,,,,it is the return of that prayer flowering in the possession of God. ~,Grace. begins to induce a distasfe for even such sensible:ple~isures as are lawful. The will is free to resist this purifying proc-e~, ss~ and One is tempted to immerse oneself in, excessive indul-~ genceoin sense experience. The proper course tO be.f6.11owed is just,the opposite. Recoll~ktion is to, be presereed, and the "senses mortified.During time of prayer one should be con-tent with the simple, thought of God; this is all. that ongcaff do withOut tooviolent efforts; 0fie should pray for quick "deliverance from this time of trial if it be'God's will. - Distinctive Nature of MqsticalPrager Three qualifies set infused contemplation, apart f~om ¯ " 398 ' Noi~mbec, 19~44 - T~E DI~_aREES OF PRAYeRs-. ~ill ot~er ~rayer. First,'God's 15r~sehce till now l~nbwn dnly b~r:faith seems ~d be expdrienced. It is felt. This conscious-ness of God's presence has beeia e.xpressed analbgously by othqse who have had it as a~fouc14 of God or a Sl:;iritual ta~sting. Only. in.,the more advanced m~stical~ prayer do the analogies~of hearing and sight.0ccur. .Secondly, this ihtui-tion is simple, not bringing any other new knowledge to soul.~ Thirdly, ttie prayer is simply received from ~od, sifice no human efforts can produce it even for a short tinge. Grades of Myst.ical Prayer " Th~e. ar~, according to the authors we are ~fol~lOwing, three principal-stages' of ~mystical prayer:, the "prayer 6f quiet; the prayer of fhll union; and the .tra.n, sfgiming union, also known as the .mystical marriage. The pr~ayer of .quiet may be described as mystical union.in which tlqd ~divine act.ionis not yet strong enough to exclfid~ distrac- =tio~s. -At first,-this prayer will last only for very brief intervals, say for the space of a Hail-Mary. Gradua113~ attains lofiger duration until finally it is Eossessed almost ali the"time that is spent in prayer. . :-~In the, second stage, of mystical~ prayer, known as the prayer of full.union, the experience of God is su~cient!y ~absorbing to preclude all distractions. At first, this prayer tgo is had "only very briefly, though with profound_effedts .upon thb soul. A half an hour is considered rather 1ong.A person gifyed with .this prayer falls back to the. prayer of ~quie~ in the intervals between periods of full union. I~s_ ~rea~tiofi on the body is rfiore or less pronounced, accc~rding ~.~ to, the[temperament of the recipient. I~ can result ii~ ecstasy. Before ,being admitted to.the final stige of mys~tical' praye[: the transforming union, the soul must be further purified: ~. This purgation is effected through~ the.' 399 MCNALL¥ Reoieu~ for ReligiOus passive~i~h(of the soul known~fis tl~e night of the S]~irit. ' This state is not ~without j0y~resultin~ drom the infused 5ontempla~tion of God~ But it is-chiefly characterized-by" very -. great sufferings. Understanding.God's holiness and love in" a~nev~ way, the' soul also perceives the enormity its own ififidelities and conceives "a torturing abhorrence, c~F- ~them. This great sorrow and destestation of its faults~ cleanses the soul from them and so fits it for more exalted union with God. There is at times agreat aridity making ~ prayer seemimpossible. Very_delightful periods of infused contdmplatjon have been experienced, arousing the soul's desire°for more peLfect union with God; now these graces ha,vd:been Withdrawn, leaviffg the. soul without joy and acutely and painfully conscious of its g~eat .need fo p.os-sess God. ~ - - -/~ At-length th~ finai stage of mystical prayer is reached_. ~, This transformingunion or-mystical marriage has ~'th~reeT' distinctive properties. First, it'is almost .permanent; goin~ ,on'practically all the time even amid external activity. Per~ ;~ so/as gifted With this kind of-prayer ~have been impressed witffa Rindof duality within themselves. - The h!gher fac-ulties of the soul are n~early always_ rapt in prayer, while the lower Qnes are capable of engaging in all sorts of work~;" ~I'n~ .some cases this prayer lasts even during sleep. Ecstasy is -rarer than in p@e~eding degrees[ Temptation~and interidr sufferings Occur only infrequ'ently. ~ ~ The second_ property of this _degree of prayer is an, ~xperience of the transformation or divinization of the°~ 16ul. The supernatural divine concurrencegranted to÷soUls, in~ grace becomes the object, of conscious° appreh~nsiom ~. There" is a Sp, ecial percept.ion of union with G0d~ 'an~t all a~t~bns are. consciously performed with Him and through Hiifi. ¯ Thirdl.~, so~e ~ersons gifted With this prayer have an No.tuber, 1~44~ ~ ~ ,~,~ ~THE DI~GREF~ 01~ ~YER :ilmost con--tindous vision ofthe-Blessed Trinity.-St. Teresa: ~---says that~this is always-so. But St. zJohn of the Cross does not merition it and there seem t6 have been cases-of the tr.ansform!n~ union With God as ~ne, without any co_n- ~.~ sciousness df Hiin as Three. ~,The part phyed by the Sacred Humanity of our Lord with regard to this spiritual marriage seems to be that Of !e.ading the soul to if.- The relations,hip.is between the soul ~and the Divinity. In .different recorded instances of this-union,~ the divine r~ature has ~anifested itself more ~learly as identical with the Word or with. the Holy Spirit. ~ _" AI~ very close ufiion of the will with God's Will is ~the~ result of the transforming union. Deliberate'venial sins: are a~most completely excluded. The soul feels that' it' w0uld be imp6ssible to sin serio~usly. Yet there is no cer, o _~aihty that confirmation in graci is granted., St.~3ohn of theCross thinks that it is. ' But~St. Teresa holds that a fall° is possible, since there is no absolute guaranty th;it~ God.wifl continue to hold the $o1~11 so. close to Himself until death. Books Received (From August~O to October ZO) -THE BRUCE PUI~LISHING CO., Milwaukee. A Month o~ Roses. By the Reverend P. H. Fages. O.P. $1:75. Canonical -~Procedure in Matrimonial Cases:, Volume II. Informal Procedure. By .the Reverend William J. Doheny; C.S.C. J.U.D. $8.00.The Man Nearest" io .Christ; By the Reverend F. L. Filas, S.;J. , $L50. B. HERDER BOOK CO., St. Louis. Lent, By-the Reverend Conrad Pepler, O.P. $~.00." P! J.'KENEDY.~ SONS, New York. Three Reliqious Rebels: By the Reverend M~" Raymond, O.C.S.O. ~' Her Silence 8peaks. By the Rey~erend John S.'Middleton0 Ph.D, GROSSET ~,DUNLAP, New York. " $2.7.5. Men o~ Mar~tknol_l. By the Reverend James K~ller and Meyer Berger. Reprint., $1.00. " R li{gi uS pro e Si ~ a ~Seffo~nd Baptism? 3ames:E. Risk, 8.3. .\V! A~ TOLD~in. the liyes', of the early Fathers that . ,~ one of these heroic men behdd in~ vision two persons. . ~' .~receiving the grace of complete remission~ of th~ terdporal phn!s~hm_ e.~.t due to sin. One of these @as a neo- -~" phyte, the'6ther a religious assuming;the habit of .his order. Be it, fact or legend, this represents an opinion'that has held: an honored .place among the traditions, of the .religious life; " .For centuries theologians and spiritual writers have. likened; ' th4 religious profession to baptism or mar~yrdom,both ~which~car, ry with them the immediate and entire remission of the temporal punishment due to sin. 'In an article publishett in a recent issue of this REVIEW i(~Vo!. 3~ p.-28~),, Father McAuliffe explained the notion of _temporal-punishrfient due to'sin and several ways effecting its payment in this life. If the tradition about the" ,expiatory effect of the religiou~s, prqfess~on~s sblidly founded,-theq we hav~;~in the" pronouncing of th~ thr& ,.public vows, still another means Of riddinKour~elves of-o.u'~- ~ debt of temporal punishment. Some commentators on the religious life ~tate that ~the religious, profession hhs the l same expiatqry, effect, as bap- ~ tism or.martyrdom, but th.ey leave us to search for an argu-ment ,in support of this statement,. Som~ ~imply,~est their case on authority,, partic,ularly on St. Thoma~ Aquinas, -~St. Robert Bellarmine, and Suarez. It is the purpose of the pre.sent investigation to test the merits of the 1png-stand, ing tra.dition° by scrutihizing the testimony of these three emi-rient authoriti.es. 402 " REI~IGIOU$ PRO~$IION~A SECOND t~PllSl? ~ The Problem." By the religious profession we understand the pro-nouncement of the~ ,three vows of poverty, chastity,~nd obedience in a religious~institute~approv~ed by the Church. --For the moment we. ate not distinguishing .between the simple and the solemn profession. Our problem .may .stated simply in the form of a question: if a religious, in.th~ state of grac~ and free from attachment to all sin, were to die< immediately after his profession, would, his soul .~be admitted without delay fo the, beatific vision? Let it. be noted from~ the outset that we presci~id-from ~J~e',plenary _indulgence accorded some religious institutes, whereby their ~members enjoy this spiritual favor on the day that they receive the habit or on the day of their profession. Such a grant, for example, was~ made by Pope Paul V in 1606. We are considering the religious l~rofession in itsel~: and inde- ~endently of the_ remission of the~ temporal punishment'- occasioned by the g~:ant of,a plenary indulgence. -. Baptism, or the r~-birtl~ of a person into the life of.- ~ s~nctifying grace, the. sacrament of regeneratiori, remits the entire guilt 9fsin and with it the eternal and tempor.al puff-ishment due~to sin. On the neophyte, no work of satisfac- ~'tion is imposed. The c~ebt i~ cancelled by the grat(Utous applica~ti~n of Christ's own su{Serabundant satisfaction., This complete,liberation from the'bond of sin and its con- _"~equen(penaltie~s follow~ s immediately in virtuedf the per-., formanc~ of the ~baptismal rite, or, in the language of the theologians, ex opere operato. The,remitting effect of bap-~ tism, theiefore, is rather in the nature of a. free gift than one produced by the laborious procedure of personal penitential. acts. , The voluntary act by which the, martyr sheds his blood ~ in testimony bf the faith likewise produces tile entire remis-siofi of the debt oftemporal punishment, even though the 403 _.-' JAMES'E~ RISK . -, - Review for Religio~us martyr should have only 'imp~rfe¢i-¢ont-ritiom This com~ ,,- plete remission; though not the: result of a sacramental rite, ~ iS als6 prodi~ced ex. opere operato, Or as some. would express ~.--it' quasi ex opere .operato. : St~ Robert Bellarniine; in his . treatise on ,Ihdulgenees, explains this, " " ¯ "For it is'clear that martyidom is such a complete.sat-isfaction that it.can make expiation' for the guilt that has been contracted from sins, no;matter how great their num-ber ~and enormity. For, provided~ it i~ certain that .one i~: ' truly a martyr, the Church does not.heSitate to list him . among the saints and blessed, ¯even if before his martyrdom° he hadbeen coveied with many crimes." What, ofthe' religious profession is :it on a level with baptis.m and martyrdom as an e~piatory ag~ht?'" In sol'ring thd problem we gi~e first consideration to the opinion of the Angel Of ,the SchoOls.~ " ~ " ~ -OPinion of St. 7:l~omas o. ,.Commenting, on the relative~merits of the vow to make - a¯ .pilgrimage *and~ that" of entering the religious state, St. Thomas in his Summa Theotogica (2, 2ae, q.~!89, a. 3; ad3) says: ~ "The vow to enter religiom~being perpetual:is greater ~: than thw vow of .pilgrimage to the Holy Land, which is a ," -tempdral 'vow: and as--.Alexander III says, 'He ~wh~ exchanges~a temporary service for the perpetual service of religion is in no way,, guilty of~ breaking his vow.' More, ¯ over it may be reasonhbly staled that alsoby entrance into religion a man obtains remission Of all his sins. F6r if ¯b3i~ giving alms a man ,may forthwith .satisfy for his ~sins, according to Dan. iv, 24, 'Redeem thou thy sins With alms', ~ much more does it suffice to satisfy for all=his sins'that a ~ man ddvote himself wholly to the divine service by entering religion, for this surpasses all manner of satisfaction,- ever~ 404 November, 1944 ~,. REliGIOUS PROF~'S~ION--A SECOND BAP~SM?~ -that ofpublicpenance, acCording to the Decretals,-jus~ as'a holocati~t exceeds a sacrifice, as Gregory declares. Henc~ we read:in the lives of the Fathers that by entering'religion one receives the same grace as by .being baptized. And yet, if- One were not thereby absolved ~from all debt of punish-ment, nevertheless the entrance into religion is more ~profitable than a pilgrimhge to the Holy Land, which, as regards °the advancement in good, is preferable to th~ abso-lution from puriistimen~.''1 In.explo.ring the. probative value of this almost uni~ y;ersally cited passage 6f'the Ange!ic Doctor, i't is well to note carefully thephrases used. Otherwise than some com-mentators ~duld lead ug to believe, Sf. Thomas does not-mention explicitly the religious profession, that is/the .vows taken ~fter the novitiate, or the final profession,. He speaks first of all of the vow to enter religion, a vow there-fore taken before one embraces the religious life. He then ,°mefitionsth4 entering into religion four times, three of which are associated with the .idea of the complete .rem)ssion of ~ins dr of punishment due to sin, namely: l) "'It,may be reasonab, ly stated that also by entrance .into religion a man obtains remission of all his sins.'" 2) '" . . . much more,does it suffice to.sati~fg for all his sins that a man devote himself ,wholl~t to the divine servi'ce bg. entering religion, for this surpasses all manner of satis-faction, even that of public penance. "" , ~ 3 )' "'Hence we read . . . that b~j entering religion one receives the same grace as bq be(n~ baptized.:" ~ " From the° foregoing we may safely say that St. ,Thomas ~held it as highly probable that entrance into religion is ~n act of the hi~hest satisfactory value, capable of deleting the ~Cf.~The_ Summa Theoloqic-a o~ St. Thomas Aquinas, literally translated b~, Fathers of the English Dominican Province. L6ndon: Burns. Oates. and X,Vashbourne. ~V61. 14, pp. 301-302. - ~ o ., 405 JAME~ E: RISK ,a '~" Revie~ for Religious entire: temporal punishment~ due to sihl~ iind this independ-ently' 6f any special indulgences granted by the ~Church. ' Sinie entrai~ce into religion implies tile voluntary~assump-. - tion of a life of perpetual self-restraint from a supernatural motive,, it is more perfect than~a pilgrimage to the Holy. Land, which=implies only temporary hardships; and since ,it implies a complete giving of-self to God, it is more perfedt' ~- than almsgivin.g. Yet both the pilgrimage to theHoly Land and_ almsgiving were considered to have even complete sat-isfactory- value. " [t is true; as w~ noted, that in the text cited St. Thomas speaks only of the vow to enter religion and of entrance into religion; he does not mention the religious profession. -_ itself. Ye~, surely we can ~easonably argue thht if One may .receive complete pardon by entering the religious life, all the more so will he receive such complete condonation by actually pronouncing the vows: Did St. Thomas hold this opinion as certain? From o the text this is not clear. He seems to have made allowance for a contrary opinion when he says: "And yet, even if one were not thereby absolved fr0m~ all debt of punishment, nevertheless the entrance into-religion is more profit-able. " St. Robert Bellarrnine ~ Commenting on the same problem, another Docto~ c;f the Church, St. Robert Bellarmirie, says: ~ '-"Finally we.say, that~ between baptism and the pro~es-sion of religion, there is some similarity. And just_ as in ° baptism the guilt and the punishment of all sins are per-fectly r.emitted, so when the profession.of the religious life is assumed with th~ proper dispositions, it is'piously~ believed that there is remitted the entire temporal punisl~- merit, for which otherwise satisfaction would have to be made, even after the guilt has been forgiven. On-that 406 Novembbr,'1944-~'~ REliGIOUS PROFESSlON~A SECOND B,~PflSM?, acco~un.t, 'however; we _dcf not rate th~ monastic ,~rofession~s~ ahead of baptism, no~ .place, them o~ an.~qual plafie, '. For_ baptism remits hot, only the tJfinishment bur also the guilt, -hrid that we.know for certain. "The monastic profession, however, does not remove the guilt,-but only the punish-ment, and .this we do not. affirm with certainty, but it is our ~pious belief . . . "~ ,From this text emerge the following conclusibns: " )) (~Ve know,/:or certain that one of the effects of the sacrament bf baptism is the perfect remission of all the pun-isl~ ment due to sin. That the asiumlbtion of the obliga;- tions~of the religious life ~effects a, complete condonation of the ~temp0ial punishment is a pious betid and not a certain j 0pinion. - - 2) We do not, therefore, plac~ the religious professio on an equal plane with~ baptism, mudh l~ss do we rank the vows ahead of the sacrament. - .,,. The conclusions of St. Robert here-stated are cor- .roborated-by_an0ther passage of the same treatise in which he-s~ys that the Works properto the religious state; namely~' tO live c_hastely, to retain proprietorship Over nothing~ and to obey_one's superiors are conducive to satisfaction' for one's sins. ' oo . Th6 0pinign of Suarez. . Comme.nting on the,doctrine of St~i Thomas~and o(her great theologians who refer to" the expiatory capacity of the ~rehg~6u.s profession, Suare~ conte'nds: 1 ) It is rash to assert.that the religious professio~ pr~o-du& s'its propitiatory effect in sacramental fashion. (that is, ex o-pete operato), for the tradition of the Churchoand the . ~estimony of the Fathers-~offer. us no ihformation on the "~ subject. 2Controuersiatum de Membris Ecdesiae, lib. II. cap. VI. ~'~ . 407 r ~eO~ew for Religious 2) "The ai~thors inentioned m.er.ely teach-that-this. ~raceds diyinely granted tothe profession, so that,if any~- one haakes~it in.the.state of grace~ the entire debt of tem-poral punishment is remitted him. [This come~] from the divine generosity or from a ~ort of gratitude~, even though. he.would not otherwise make satisfaction proportionate the guilt. This assertion I admit to be pious.and probable, because 0~ the authority 9f the do~tors of such standing, because "it favors the religious state,.and because 'it seems fi_tting ~hat God will show that liberality, towards a friend Who has given his all to Him.' However, I admit that I dd not see a ~ufficiently Cogent proof. For St. Thomas makCs nb~ menti,on of either~h privilege or of.~divine generosity, "bu't endeilvo~rs to base :~thls effect [of "the-profession] on the excellence of that act.''a Suarez, then, ad~nits the. probability of this opinion because 6f th4 number of great theologians who see in the act of ~ssu ,ruing the religious state, or at least in the consum-mate geneio~ity of the profession, a~work of such merit to gain the condonation of the entire debt of temporal pun-ishment: Of the c~rtaint~.t of this opinion~ however, h~ remains unconvinced: The Simple Profession F~llowing the lead of these, and other, 4mi~n~nt tb'eo-logians, we may consider it as highly probable tl~at, in vir-: ttie of the self-surren~der made in the perpetual prc~f~ssion, the religious, like the neophyte or the martyr, obtains tl~e perfect remission of the temporal punishment due to sin, provided he is in the state of grace and free from attach- ~inent to sin. " May this conclusion, which we accept "as reason;ible, apply ti~ the simp!e as well. as to the solemn pr6fession? A~, ~Opera Ornnia, vol. XV. lib. ~rI, cap~ XIII. n. 6. 408 " ;Nooember, f944"< " ~ RELIGIOUS PROFESSION.-~A SECOND BAPTISM~ " the time°of St. Thomas~ whom so many authors cite as' an ,;~thorlty, the solemn p'rofe~ssion was the only°.~form, of profession kn6wn,. The approval of the simRl~ religiou_s profession, occasioned by the founding of the'Society .of -~ 3.esus about three centhries later, marked a decided :depar- " ~ ture from the existing law that the religious vows should be exclusively solemn. Hov~ever, it appears justifiable to at~t, ribute that same expiatory quali~y, to the perpetual; -'simple profession, for according to the present disposition- - of the Church, the juridicaldifferences between the simple ,_ and the solemn profession little affect the actual prosecution ~3f one's-quest for perfection in the cloister." The demerit ot~ self.surrender, the factor that probably effects tl~is remis-sion, ~s going to be qmte the same in both cases. The a~gu . ments eipressed above.should .be as applicable to the one ÷ form of profess!o~ as the other. COMMUNICATIONS? When possible, we like to have a Communications section in the REVIEW. We "think that (his adds interest and practical value. However¯ as we hav~ stated before. w-e prefer to direct the communications towards a definite topic, especi~lly a topic of ge~u~ral interest and value. Our first topic for communications was "Spiritual Direction by the Confessor." This ran "through several issues aiad was. we think, both enlightening and hellbful. \The second topic chosen was "Vocation." The third was on "'Retreats:" Com-munications on these latter subjects were also helpful, but, we believe, not so'useful as the first. ° We should like to have more communications on some definite topic, but we fihd * it hard tb choose a topic. Hence. we throw the question "'open to the hbuse." Can you give us some suggestigns regarding subjects that would provide forinteresting and useful discussions? Any ideas will be~appreciated. ; Address~'our suggestion_s to: Th~ Editors, Review for Religious. St. Mar~"s_ ;College, St. Marys,~ Kansas. 409- ues ons and Answers' Because of a slight illness, a postulant dntered ten days a{~er her class of March 24. May she receive the habit with her class on September Yes, she may. She had fully intended to enter with her class but" was prevenked from doing so by illness¯ Normally the six months should be complete. However, the prescriptions of the Code regarding the time of thd postulancy do notbind under pain of in;calidity. For grave reasons.superiors m~y shbrten this. tirrle by a few days. " In the presentcase the illness which caused the involuntary delay in~ enterin~ would be a sufficient reason to allow the postulant'to recdive the habit _ with her class, even thoughten days are lacking to complete the six -.months. . --37-- ," What ;s the obligation of a religious regarding the ordinary co.nfe.s.sor~t~ When the confessor a Sister prefers is stationed close to thd convent, may sh.e go to him rather than to the one appointed? It is the mind of the Church that religious women should ~en-erally confess to the ordinary confessor. While canon 522 allows a religious woman to go to any priest who has diocesan faculties for Women, it supposes, that this will be done drily occasion~illyoi because of~iome special reason 'of conscience, which,may persist for'a short time. Mere preference does not justify a religious woman in going to confession regularl~ to another priest stationed close to the convent. Please read explanation of this point in REVIEW FOR RELI-GIOUS, Mar~h, 1943, page 81. Our community doctor (the, only doctor we can consult o~dinariiy) reports to the superior on the phys,cal'con&hon and ~eeds~of. the sisters. In addition he sometimes makes known to the superior damaging facts which he ~has learned through consultation with or examineti6n of patient. Has ~ community doctor an obligation to guard even from the superior the professional medical secrets of ir~ferlors? : A doctor.has a strict obligation to guard tlqe secrds of his clients which come to him in the way. of busindss. When, in virtue of his 416 ~Offic~ he bears or d~scovers a'secret damaging to the clientbe is bound to respect i~ as an inviolable confidence. ~He. can ~reveal it only ~n. the most pressing reasons of ~he common good of s~iety demand the re~elation. Even then he must keep in mind the harm that would b~ ~one if the public-lost confidence in the prudence and silence of its p~ofessional advisers. In a religious community the house .doctor occupiesa peculiar position. To some extent he acts for the superior,'~, yho~must care for the health 0f the religious as a parent does for~a child. But.since the community doctor is the only one to whom the members of the'community can go, he must consider that the infe~or_ is h~ client. He cannot consider himself the me~e agent of the-superi6r, a~d hence enmled to reveal to the sup~or,confide~ces or damaging facts which he has learned professionally fro~ a member ~bf the community. On this point Vermeersch (Tbeologia~ Moralia, lEd. 3, q937], II, n. 649, 3) says :,."Note finally that the case ofa-religious community doctor is differentia doctor to whom the reli- ~'gious men and women have. to ~o. For since they have no choice, they ~ave a right that a strict professional secret be observed in their regard, ex o~cio." Then he remarks: '~A superior who knows some-_ ~:thing through the violation of the secret [i.e. the professional medical-secret], cannot on that account dismiss a subject against his will." Of course, since the supe~or must provide for the subject, the d~tor ~s allowed to make k~ow~ the state of the patient's health, but in such a way as to pro~ect his reputation. ~ Whaf~type of dispensation from the Eu~:harisf;c fast do rel;g;ous~and lay nurses have who are obliged to wo;'k on night duty? We have heard, ;~'thaf in some States the .night workers are bound to abstain from. solid food ~f~ur hours Before reception of Holy Communion and two hours frSm liquids. ¯Does Canon Law provide for. such a dispensation? The general Ia~ .of the Church as~ expressed in canon 858, § l, -~requires that all pe.rsons who wish to receive Holy Commdnion must fast from midnight: In paragraph 2 an exception is made for those who have been sick for a-month, as was explained in REVIEW' FOR REI~IGIOUS, May 1944, l~age 171. There are'no other exceptions as~ fa~ ~s the general law of the Church is concerned--except, of course, those .~vho are in danger ~of death and those who communicate to save ~the t~lessed Sacrament~from profanation. ~ ~ ~ The Holy See can and does grant d~ispensations from~, the law bf 411 QUESTIONS~ AND" ~NSWERS i~he Eucharistic fast in special cases. Thus there'are special d~spensa tions'for members of our Armed Forces, includihg nurses who beloqg to these same Armed Forces. 'Again;'P0pe Piiis XII has granted~ to ,the Bishops.of the Uni~ed~States special fadulties in favor of persons engaged in work of National Defense (see REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. .,March, ~1942, page 1431_. We do not believe that these faculti~'s have been extended to religious and .nurses on hightduty in hospitals. The. only way to find out is to get in touch with your Diocesan Chaficery. Religious and nurses on night duty may follow standard time in compu.ting the fast from midnight: henc~ they may eat and drink up to one" o'cl0ck war time, and receiveH61y Communidn ih the m0r;n-ing. 'This was explained in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, May, 1944, :- page 213. ¯ A novlco who is amlnor owfis a sum of money which was willed %~hlm," ,and,whlch is bolng held under ~juardianshlp by {.he courts of his ~hls' {.6onty-firs{. birthday. Gonsoquontly he has never boon able any disposal oL{.hls money, which was his before en{.erln9 {'he novifia{.e. In such-a case Would {.he novice be permiffed {.o .make a provision in: his will (which will be made~ before his. twenty-firs{, birthday) {.hat this money be cji~en.% his pa~en{.s as soon as {.he courts release ff 'to him? Since the novice, though owning~ the money in question, did not. have the.free, disposal of it before entering the novitiate, he will si~bj~ct to the regulations of canon law regi~rding it. Before taking his first vows he must appoint/in administrator and determine who is to get,the annual income from the money during his lifetime.~ H~ may give this income to his parents if he Wishes, but as long as he lives he" "m~y not dispose of the capital itself without the permission of ~the: Holy See. As to the woill which he must make before taking his first vows, he is free to name the beneficiary of it, and may will this money tb his parent*s. But the will does not take effect until after the death of [h~ novice in question. Therd is widespread misunderstanding among religiou~s with simplevows regarding ~the nature of the will which they~must mak~ before taking their first vows.¯ This is owing in no small.part tO the. wording of canon 569, § 3 "as found in most texts of con~it.u-tionsoand which is taken from the authorised English translation the canons of. the Code regarding~religious. It reads as follows: "In Nooembei, 1944 . " ~ ~ "QufSTIONS AND ANSWERS " e,~ery religiouscon"grega;ti o"n the nbvice, before maki.ng profession te_mporary vows, .-shall _freely dispose by Will of all" the proper~ty, h~ a~tually, possesses or may subsequent.ly possess." The" Latin. ~ext of '~tbe Code merely states: "'testarnenturn de bonis praesentibds oboenturis ffbere condat,'" and-may b~ translatCd simply: "He shall ,.freely make a will regarding his present possessions.as well as regard-- ing those which may possibly come to hifia in the future." ~Wbile the ~afithorized translation "he shall freely dispose by v~ill" is techni-- callyocorrect, still the word "dislSbSe" misleads many. religious into thinking that they are free tO give away their possessions during t~eir lifetime. This notion is absolutel~/fals~ and is contrary to the ¯ ~meanling of the word¯''will or testament," ~which is defined, as~ "~the_ ~ legal°°declfiration of a.man's intention as to disposition of property,. etc., that he wills to be performed after his death." The will .which ~ the novice mak, es has no effect during his iifetime,.but only after his" death. Hence the term "dispose,by" WiW' means simply ~o determine'~ who is to receive his property after his'death. The novice'in question may, therefo~re, determine that his parents " are to receive the'income of his~money during'his lifetime, and he-may ~ ~ make th~.m th~"beneficiaries of his will so that they'will recei~'e the -. ~0 m_oney after his death. But if he wishes to give them this money whet, ~-~ ~iig domes into l~is full possession, on his twenty-first birthdaw, he wi!l ha,ie t0,obtain~permission to do'so from the Hol~ See, since canon ¯ o- 583;-1° forbids him to give away~his po,ssessi.ons during his lifetime;, Is{there any'i'egulafion ;n canon law regard;ng fhe f;me wh;ch musf 'elapse a~er fhe recepf;on of a converf ;fifo fh~ Church before he or she ma) enfer r~l;g;on?" If nor, please g;ve us some adv;ce on fh;s po;nf. Canon 987, 6° tells us that converts are~impeded from the recep-. "tion of orders until they ha/re been sufficiently tested acc6rding to the~" .judgme_nt of the Ordinary. This is the only prescription of the C0~ ~r,~garding~ neophytes. Hence there is no time limit prescribed, before all~wii~g them to enter religion. The determination of such ~ time~ ~ ~<'" li?~it will, therefore, be lefv to the prudent judgment of the superior ~ Who is to receive the candidate. This will depend uPon the circum-stancesof age, education, and other, conditions. Generally _speaking, it will be well to make the candidate wait at least a year after"con-- version .before receiving him. Further extension of this time w~ll _. 4'13 -~ :-. _~: , ~, ~, / ,, ', The ans~ve'r ,pertaining to the Porfiuncula IndUlgence ;n th~ last ,ssue of t_he Review for Religious (July 1_5 "1944, pp.'280-281) gave me. the ;,~- pression that Sec~,lar Tert;aries of St. Francis cannot gain this ;hdulgence ~n a parish church of the Frim's of the Third Order. Regular of 'Saint Francis ofPenahce. Has this privilecje been revoked or has ;t n6ver ~been g;~ven-for churches of the Friars of the Third Order Regul.ar? This impression is hardly justified by the text of the answer. referred to above. "The answer concerned itself p.rin.cipally with the.~ question of Religious Tertiaries (members of a. Religious Institute ~with simple vows, for example, Franciscan Sisters) gaining the In-dulgence in their own community churches and oratories. Neoer~ho-le~ s, the answer also stated that "the faithful" hence, sure. l~ Secular Tertiaries---can .gain the P'ortiuncula Indulgence in all the churcl~es and public oratories of Franciscan ~'ertiarg Communities with'simple. ~Vod~s---a fortiori, Of the Third OrderRegular, a comr~unitg°with solemn oows. ' ~o answer the question asked above: Pope Urban VIII, hy a 414 19~4~ " ~- ~ .QUESTIONS ~ND B_rief, dated~Janu~ry.13, 1643, gra~nted the privilege wher~by~all the faithful' can gain ~he Portiuncula Indi~l~enc~ in "all"churches- (public oratorles are included in wrtue of subsequent grants by the Holy~See) ~of.' the Third Order-Regular of Saint FranCis bf Penance. A~s statett~ in ~he answer referred to in the question, the ~Sacred Penitentiary on 2uly 10, 19~4, declared: "Perpetual grants of thisIndulgence given ~iia ~ny manner up to the present time remain unchanged for the~ fu-ture." Hence there is no doubt whatever that not only Secular. Ter~. ~ tiaries of St. Francis, but ali the faithful as well, may gain the Por: :~'~ tiunc61a Indulgence in :all_ the churches and public oratories of~ the ~." ~Third Order Regular of St. Francis of Penance. ' When sayln~ Hail Ma~s durln9 the da~ is if necessary to ~a~e a.bead jn one's hand to 9ain the Crozier indulgence affached thereto, or would°ff ~: s~ff;ce fo have.the rosary on one's person? -~ " Generally speaking, one must hold the be~ds in one's hand in, ~order ~o gain a.ny of the various indulgences_, attached_ to th~ recitation o of the rosary. Through a de'red:~issued by the Sacred C6ngregation of Indulgences on January 22, .1858, Pope Plus IX allowed, that when the rosary ~s satd in common by- two or rriore, personL it iuf/ice~ tha~ one.of them hold a phir of beads and lead in ~he recitation pro- ~/ vided tha_t the others abstain froth all external occupation which ~ _ ~vould impede intdrior rec011ec~ion: , In ~an audience granted to the Cardinal Penitentiary on October 20;' 19~3, Pdpe Plus XI deigned to grant that ':when_ever either ma.nu~al labor or some reasonable cause prevents" the faithful from. ".__'~ carrying, in their~hands,: accordifi~ to the prescriptibn, either ~he~ roshry or tl~e crucifix, which, has been.,blessed for the gaining of~ the indulgences dither of thee holy rosary or of the W~ty.of the~ Cro.ssl, the, " faithful may gain those indulgences, provided that, during tl~e reci-~ ration of the prayers in ques~ion,they carry~ with them in any way~ ~the rosary or the crudifix." Will yo~. I;!ea_se inform us,,.whether there is a set time specified "by ~oCanon-law for the recitation of the Liffle Office of th~ Blessed Virg!n~ "" that is, for the J.iHle° Hours, Vespers and Complin, and, the anticipated :-Matins and L~uds. ~ ~R¢l~gious who are ~bound by their constitutions to the r~citation~ 41-5 Rd6iew for Rdigidu~. ~"of t~e Little O~ce'of the Blessed Virgin are not bound by the litur-gical prescriptions' r~gardingthe time of the recitation of the~ single. hours of the Divine O~ce. T~ey may follow these times if .they wish, but they are not obligedto do so. H~re are ~he times allowed for the Divine O~ce: Matins and' Eauds may ~e.said any time after V'espers and Complin have been recited (b~t not before t~o'o'clock in the afternoon of th~ pre~ng day) up'toone hour after s~nrise: Prime may be s~i~ from dawn up" to two. bouts after sunrise, thesmall h6urs u# till boon. Vespers Complin in the afternoon (except during L~nt when ~es~ers should~ be said b~fore noon). I am d~irector of a home for Catholic delinquent boys and a member o~ the Amer,can ~Assgci~tion of Social Workers. In this field Of work, ffofte~ ~becomes necessary in the line of~ duty .to question b~oys recjardincj prob~ lems of a'strictly 'moral-nature; The feeli.ncj~is that one may'be or perhaps. i~ encroachln~ on the ricjhts of the confessor. This fedincj is especi~l!y present in fhe~are,~s.pertainln9 to tSe Sixth Commandment. Is~there any norn~, whereby social, workers ca°n tell when they are cjeHincj into areas ~hat belon~ to the confess~or? , ~ ¯ ~reli'minary to answering the question as stated, we recommend ~i'that so~ia[ glorkers read Father Ford's article, Paternal Government." .dn'cl 'Filial, Con/idence in Superiors (REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, II. p. 146), Father Ford expl.ains th~ impoftant distinction between the judicial and the paternal forum. A superior (and the same-may~ be said of the social worker) act~ judiciall~t, when he questions ~ ~,ubject principally for the common good, and seeks to inflict pu'ni~b-' ment as a vindication of violations of discipline. In this case he must "r~member that ~,the boy qudstioned has a natural right to defen&him-self and to avoid "answerihg any question that would incriminate.° himself. The superioror social worker would l~e acting paterna!lV if ~ were questioning the bo.y prindipally for the good of the boy him-self (for example: to help him "avoid an occasion of sin or to correct a bad habit). In this matter the superior or social, worl~r has ~he :right to ask .any questions he deems necessary for his puri3ose, but he -must observe certain cautions. (l) He is not free to punis~ a b~y who" confes'ses guilt, except in so far'as some punishnient of'a purel_y °' 416 *Not~e~b~;, 19~4 ~_ ~ : . -.QL~ESTIONS~ _ _ AND ANSWERS~: ' - . 2. ~private nature might be judge'd a mdans necessary to l~elp the- , (2) He is-bound by a yigid 'professional sec~recy with regard to the answers given by' the boy. '(3) He should prudently¯refrain from ,~iskjng questions that'he foresees will be answered with a lie. (~)~He ~ sh6uld not ask questions concerning problems with Which he kno~s ~s not competer~t to deal. Perhaps it i~ the fourth cafitibn that causes some social workers to feel that they are trespassing on the rights of the confessor, par- ,ticularl# when they ask about things pertaining to the Sixth.Com- ,~mandment: As a matter of fact,-the confessoi has not an ekclusive righ~t to-ask such questions. But in practice it is frequently true that :6nly~priests are competent to deal wi_th conscience problems that such " questions might'reveaL The social worker, therefore hi~ own i:[ualifi~ations. In some things'i no doubt, and even in very delicate matters, he-may be c[-great help to the boys committed to ~his care: and he may put prudent~questions.on these matters without infrii~ging on the right of the cdnfesso_r. ~ ~ ~We add a final word, of .caution for ~all religious who, as ~ocial -workers or i~ ,some other¯capacity, must treat with youth about ~ sexuaF~atters. We'fhink it is important, for the good of the Church: -=th~zt they-should not underake such work without having a clear ~ ~°: unders[anding, with th~eir dwn superiors as to. what they intez~'d tb. ~-~o~: Entire religio~u~ communities, and even the whole Church iri ,a certaih locality, can ~.suffe~ -grievously -from the imprudence of-one ~erson. ~" Our nov;flare has been wffhout a mistress of novices or a subst;- ~ ~,fute fo~:the past" seven,months. ¯ The novices work with fhe professed, Sis-ters ahd wifh the'lay h~lp. "l'hey'are also allowed fo associate freely with ~:'fhe;younger professed Sisters engaged.in their preparafo~ studies. May ~e i:onsider~as valid a novitiate made und~)r such irregular ci~nd;fions? "_ ~.The novitiate is not invalidated by the~ absence 0f~i "mistreSs 6f 2,_~iz6viceS or by tFie failure ~ isblate the novices fiom the oth~'r_ Sis~ers.~ But~certainly conditi6ns like thes constitute a gravd¯abuse thht shbuld b~ quickly remedied:. _ Canon 559, which preicribes that the novitiate be made under the -supervision of a mistress of novices, enumerates her.qualities, and ~'~-demands,~hat she be free ~from all'offices and duties that might inter-fer~ with the "care and training of the n~vices, makes it. qui~e clear that ~QUES'I~IbN~; AND Alq'.SWER.S :.- ; Revieu2 for Religio~s the~'Church' considers this~" an. offi. ce Of the,. highest importance. As-for the isolation of the novic,es,-canon 564 prescribes that., ,"the novitiate shall b~e, as far as pqssible, sept;rated-from that part of the house inhabited b~ ~he professed religious, so that n6 communi--~ cation may be'carried on b~tween the novices anal professed religious except for some spec!al reason and with thepermission of the Supe-. riot 9r Master (Mistress)." . With much greater reason should inter-mingling with the lay help and other externs~ be avoided, s.ince these naturally have an outlook on spiritual matte'rs quite different.from religious novices. The ideals of ~the novices are b6und to stiffer ~,fr~m ~.such regular contact with Lxterns. Does canon Jaw permit a relig;ous Of' an active institute' to transf6r tO a clo;stered cor~munify? "~f ~o, what ;s the procedure? ~° ° By taking vows in a religious institute, a religious becomes a ~erla-ber o~f that institute and, uhder, normal ctrcumstances, should per~e- .vere in tl~at institute until death. The Church does not favor the transfer of a religious~fro~ one institute to another, since it iscon-trary to the common" good of religious societies: However, in indi-vidual cases the Church will allow such a transfer for the private" good " of the~itidividual, but she reserves t9 herself to pass-final judgment 'i.n each case. Canon 632 tells us: "No religious c~n, without authortza-tidn from the Apostolic See, pass to another institute, even(stfic.ter, ~ or from one independent monastery to another." In practice, in order to pgss j.u~dgment, the Sacred Congregation Of :Religious requires that the religious who wishes to tranifer to another institute must first find an ihstitute willing to receive him. This will-ingness'- must b~ expressed in writing by the proper superior~ Th~n .tpo the Sacred Congregation wishes to know what the religiohs supe: riot thinks abbut~the transfer of his Subject. Hence this sup~rio~r, ~also, must write a letter giving his ~incere opinion whether the trans-fer is desirabl~ or, no~. The religious~wfishing to transfer, will then"~o write out a form'al petition~ to the Sacred Congregation of Religious asking' to be transferred to the institute that is willing to receiye him, and send this. petition,~ together with the two letters mentionedabove, to the Sacred Congregation of Religious. o If a favorable reply.is received, the religious may transfer to the -,.new instftute and must make a novitiate,' during ~rhich the vows 418 - -. Nooernbero i 944 "- whicl~ he has .taken in~ the first' institute remain intact., He is bound by his vow of~obedience to obey the superiors of his new irlstifute. "At,the end of the novitiate, if he does not make profession in the new~ institute, he must return to the 01d one unless, of couise, he had taken only temporary vows, and .these have expired. ' QUESTIONS~^ND AN~WEI~S " ~" Some years ago a Sister who had. taken perpetual vows ;n our °concjre-cja~ ion appliedL for and secured the. necessary~ dispensation to leave in order to take care of her aged parents. Now the parents have died and she has-asked to be. re-admiHed, stating her willingness to repeat the ~novltlate and to do whatever,is required. May she take perpetual vows at~the end of th, e canonical year? Or must she spend three years with ~temporary vows before her perpetual profession? What is her.rank in the_~ community? - Since the Sister in question actually left the institute after having- 0brained .a dispe~nsation from her vows, she sevefed all connection with.it. Superiors will.have to-obtain a dispensation fro~no the Holy See before admitting her a second time (canon 542, 1°). This dis-pe, n~sation will be granted for the asking, since the ~Sister had a very~ good reason for leaving in the first instance, SuppOsing that the dispensation has been gr.anted, the former member ~f. the institute will have to make-her novitiate again and take temporary vows for three years before being admitted topyofes~- sion of perpetual vows. In a word she is'in the' same conditi~on as any ~other novice entering for thefirst time. The only exception will .beo that she may omit the period of postulancy, since she made it before and its purpose is satisfied. , ~ As fo her rank in the community, she Will take it in the class in which she enters, just as any other nowce does. . When, and for what reasons, should a rel;glo.u~ institute b6 divided ~;n~o pro~.,inces? For obtaining such a division, what procedure~is fo followed7 The Code of.Canon Law contains no Provision which directly forces an institute to divide into. provinces. Canon 494, the only canon which de~Is with this subject, merely states: "It pertains exclusively to the Apostolic See: to divide into provinces an institute approved 419. QUESTiOnS AI~:ANSWER$ -- fly the Holy ~e," to unite*exisfing .provinces or otherwise r~Odify their boundaries. ~to estal~lish new provinces or to ¯suppress exis_ting" ones, to separate independdnt monasteries from one monastic congre-gation'and to'unite them to ~nother" (§ 1). ¯ The decision-concerning the necessity or utility of ~lividing into provinces is, therefore, lefLto the .prudent and conscientious judg-ment of the proper superiors. The reason~ Commonly. given for' ¯ divi~ing an institute into provinces ar~ the following: (l) the culty~ of government either because of the wide diffusion of houses; or becai~se of the large number-of subj.ects;~(2) the need of a second ~novitiate--~or ~example, ,because of different nationalities, or becahse of the great distances¯ from the novitiate to the other houses, or because . of the di~cuity, even iinpos~ibility~ for one master~ of novices t~o ~ ~roperly train a very large~number~of novices. The 1~rese~t practice of the' Sacred Cdngregation. of Religious is~'to r~quire for the division of an institute into provinces that at least'roger provinces can be established, each of which will have about two'hun-dred subjects and at least four houses in which twelve or mo~e reli- :gious reside. In some institutes the~constitutions approvitd by the H01y See ~ determine explicitly.tha~t the right to petition the Holy See fpr a diyi-sion of the institute into provinces rests with the general chapter. In ~'others the constitutions grant this power to-the superior geneial, with the consent of his council If the constitutions are silent on the sub-ject, it seems reasonable for the superior, general and his council, to make th~ petition tO the.~Holy See, especially if a general chapter ~ill not be held for several ~rears. "The Holy See will then'either grant the petition or provide for a spedif general chapter to pass on the subject. 420- THE ASCETICAL LIFE. By the Reverend Pascal P. Parente, S.T.D., P'h.D-, J;C.B. Pp. viii -~ 271. B. He~:der Book Co., S~'. Louis, 19_44. $2.50. This work, which has grown out of lectures by-the author at thd Catholk University, Washington, may be said to have two distific-tions. First, it is an American treatise on ascetical theology. As the first American systematic, deve, lopment of ascetical the61ogy, itis of course v_ery much to be xcelcomed. ~ .It~ presentation of the subject seems rather brief and sketchy, leaving one with the ~wish that the writer had gone further. To some extent this wish is fulfilled in the third.p_art of 'the book (pages 181-251), in which certain-select questions are discussed more thoroughly. Numerous quotations from the Fathers~of th~ Church add to the literary and inspiratibnal value Of the work. , : o Secondly, ~:~ither Parente sets out resolutely to steer a middle course ¯ between the two.schgols of opmzon that divide ascetical and "mystical theologians. Moreover he strives to reconcile the two opposing views "'~through opportune.distinctions, whenever feasible." ,Though this volume is limited to asceticism and ~nother volume on mysticism is promised, the author could not avoid touching on certain prbblems !nvolving the differences between the two and between acquired and ¯ infused contemplation. He believes "that there is both 'a distinction and ~ a continuity between acquired.and infuse~l contemplation." " "The distinction is not essential or in the very ziatures of the two forms of contemplat!on. Rat.h.er it is to be found in the mode or, manner in Which the twb forms of contemplation are attained. . Such a difference. is l~ss than specific and more than merely a matter of degree. Acquired contemplation can and ought t0~be the aim of all who ctfltivate~spir- ~, ituality, and it is one of the principal links between the ascetical and the mystical life. On~religio_us ;*nd ascetical theology the authoi writes: "It is neces-sary for religi6us to. be well instructed in ascetical theology. Ordi- -~ naril~ they receive a thorough explanation of their vows and rule, bat bften only a superficial and frhgmentary jntroduction in ascetical -and mystical theology. Some of'them do not know any .form of mental prayer besides meditation. The impression prevails that 421 . BOOK REVIEWS Reoiew /:or Religzous_ _ ,myst!cal graces are.dangerous for both the individual and"the cbm- -mumty. The-consequence is that many are retarded or hindered in theirspiritual advancement. The position of. the religious who has been favored with-extraordinary graces becomes very delicate. A well:enlightened community is better disposed toward mystical phenomena and higher forms of mental prayer" (page 215). Father" Parente's book is suffikiently~ clear, brief, and ,free fr6m .technicalities and more recondite investigations to be intelligible religious, generallg,.-~-~.G. AUGUSTINE ELLARD, S.J. A WORLD TO RECONS~'RUCT. Plus XII on Peace and Recons~ruct;om By Guido GoneJla. Translated by the Reverend T. Lincoln Bous-caren, S.J. " Under the auspices of the Bishops' CornmiHee on the Pope's Peac~ Points. .Pp. x~x -I- 335. The Bruce Publlsh!ng'Co., Milwaukee, 1944. $3.50. The Papal Peace Plan, explains "Guido Gonella, proposes as the basis for a future peace a. "f~derated society," of free and independ~ent . peoples. This "Sgciety of Nations" is to be: Constituted by all states. - joined into an organic union , b' being organized into groups of states. wl~ich groups would be regional, continental, international. All states would be equal ~fore the law, bound by the same morality that governs private action, unarmed,. committed to arbitration of all internationai disputes, wit~ all force and sanctions delegated to the authoritativd, and
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PLEASE REMEMBER That by sending your orders to us you help build up and develop one of the church in-stitutions with pecuniary ad-vantage to yourself. Address HENRY S. BONER, Sup't. THE MERCURY The Literary Journal of Gettysburg College. VOL. XV GETTYSBURG, PA., FEBRUARY, 1908 No. 8 CONTENTS ALUM X I SPIRIT .*. 2 PROF. is. j). s'i'.uii.i:v, u.n., "tl. THREE GREAT PHILOSOPHERS. Plato—Part II.11 CHARLES W. IIKATHCOTK, '05. WINTER Poem 16 BOWMAN '10. THE PERSONALITY OF THE MUSICIAN" 18 II. KI:Y WOLF, '09. THE EALNBOW HOPE • 21 Q. ARTHUR KliF.Y. SEMINARY., '08 TAX AX ACCEPTABLE SUBSTITUTE FOE PREACH-ING BE DEVISED? : 25 KiiiiiiAirr, '09. IS THE MATERIAL FOE iSTOVELS EXHAUSTLESSF.-.28 VIRGINIA BEARD, '09. EDITORIALS 31 XH E MEPOUEY. ALUMNI SPIRIT. PROF. G. I). ST.AHLKV. VI.IJ., 187T. R. CHAIRMAN, Members of the Pen and Sword So-ciety, and Students: It is pleasant to have■honors thrust upon one. I appreciate the privilege of becoming a member of the Pen and Sword Society. It has occurred to me to utilize the present occasion hy speak-ing on the subject of Alumni Spirit. A proper alumni spirit, and college prosperity go hand in hand. The alumni are ungrateful and despicable, if they do not lovingly hold in remembrance their college days, and contem-plate with gratitude their alma mater—their nourishing mother, who guided their adolescent steps through the preliminary paths of learning, and established their feet on broad and well tested avenues leading to higher culture. And on the oilier hand that college is short-sighted indeed, that does not recognize-the ne-cessity of co-operation with its alumni in carrying on its educa-tional wmk. To lightly esteem or ignore alumni opinion or in-fluence is 3 suicidal policy for any college to adopt. Alumni spirit has its foundation in college spirit «nd class spirit. It is therefore a product of the four years passed in the college community, and is not a I'rame of mind originated on .commencement day. and formally received, with the diploma, from the hands of the president. Those who have been gradu-ated from college and have frequently seen others graduated, know that commencement day is a day of subdued sadness. The emotions may be well mastered, but the undertone of regret at the breaking up of pleasant companionships certainly exisits. and if not realized by the student then, will he realized later [f the alumni spirit is not invisibly conferred with th degree, then the degree will lack a sentiment and a subtle influence, which will greatly mar its effectiveness as a symbol of eminence attained. Let as consider college spirit as a primal factor in the culti-vati I' alumni spirit. The existence of a college spirit invari-ably follows, wherever there is a college having students. It cannot be otherwise, The institution is the center of the college idea and the exponent of college traditions. The students are THE MKRCURY. there for what the college can give them—of training, incentive, •council,—and it is the rallying jjoint for all their scholastic in-terests and activities. It is their educational home, and it wordd he just'as unnatural for them to disregard their college colors, as it would be to hold in contempt their own family honor. There are various influences winch contribute to the building up of a college spirit. In these days there is no lack of college activities which have in view the betterment of the institution, from tlie student view-point. Athletics with its varied and strenuous features, the musical organizations, literary publica-tions, debating and dramatic clubs, the college Y. M. C A., fra-ternity and inter-fraternity fellowships, together with social en-gagements, present a complex of student interests, which from the amount of time and personal attention they require, often causes alarm, when we stop to consider that in addition to all these activities there is such a thing as a curriculum, \vbieh by fight should also claim a certain portion of the student's time and attention. *J?o those unaccustomed to a student's life, and ignorant of the easy adaptations which characterize college men. the problem of student efficiency, under such conditions, becomes a puzzle, and they shake their heads in emphatic disap-proval. But to those of us who are on the inside, the situation is not alarming, and the logic of our thoughts is to the effect that all these activities contribute mightily to.the building up of a vigorous college spirit. They converge and unify the varied energies of the student body, and definitely determine a rallying center about which to engage with inspiring shouts and songs. Of course there are tendencies in these activities which \wd to be regulated. I beard recently of an employer who said that so many of his workmen were only interested in "pay day and quit-ting time" So it sometimes occurs that students become more interested in these self-assumed enterprises, than in the prose-cution of their studies. But this need not be so. More than fifteen years ago one of our students asked me—"Can a man play football and yet continue to be a good student." I replied —"It can be done, but it requires a level-headed man to do it." fie did not tell me what his decision would be, but I noticed that ■he continued to play football, and during an iniporta.it season he was captain of the team and one of its crack players: when lege is not frequently in their thoughts and their interest seems dormant aft9-de'ad. Such an one I met recently, who did not know of the existence of a certain department in our college, although that department was established twelve years ago. However his heart is all right, and he expects to attend our com-mencement exercises this "summer. A genuine alumni spirit, when at its best, will not allow tin cares of this world and the deceitfulness of riches to choke it and to render it unfruitful. Those of us who are officially, or as students connected with the college, and whose interests are therefore at white heat, must not expect the alumni spirit to be always abundant, intense and persistent—but when we do find it characterized by these admirable qualities, we should be willing to accord due credit We have with us to-day an alum-nus, whose spirit of interest in his alma mater'has the qualities T have just mentioned—it is abundant, intense and persistent— I refer of course, to Dr. Gies, the founder of the Pen and Sword Society, the donor of valuable prizes to stimulate literary work in the college, and whose interest in his alma mater has neve] lessened, notwithstanding the multiplied and arduous duties imposed upon him by the professional chair he so ably fills. Alumni interest and college prosperity go hand in hand. The former is i >st valuable asset of the college, and without it. its resources are insignificant indeed. The alumni ptand, as THE MERCURY. did Aaron and Hur, in holding up the anus of Moses,—they assist mightily in securing influence and prevailing power. Many of the best men of the college boards of the land are alumni of the institutions they serve, and some of them are the official rep-resentatives of the alumni associations of their respective col-leges. The alumni on these boards, have, '"both theoretically and as a fact, the best interests of the institution at heart. II' these alumni have been actually engaged in educational work, so much the better,—and for the very forceful reason that familiarity and experience will insure wise opinions and judicious councils. Our own board did a most commendable act, when last commence-ment, they added to their number Dr. Luther P. Eisenhart of the class of '96. Professor Eisenhart secured his doctorate at Johns Eopkins University, and is now a member <.!' tht faculty al Princeton University. His experience and observations at both of these institutions will undoubtedly be of great value to us here. I do-not sympathize with the idea, sometimes express-ed, that a university trained man can be of no service in the coun-cils of a small college. The. objection made is that such an one will endeavor to introduce inapplicable university methods. I belieye this danger to lie imaginary. If Governor Stuart were to be elected Chief Burgess of Gettysburg, 1 do not imagine that he would proceed to establish a State government within the bor-ough limits, but I beli tat his knowledge of what a State government should be, would greatly aid him in building up a good borougli government. His sense of needs, and of adapta-tion, would guide him mosl admirably in giving us a most effi-cient civic administration. At the next meeting of the Board of Trustees, another oppor-tunity will be afforded ih,m. of again adding an educator to their number. As most of you know, at the meeting of our gen-eral Alumni Association during commencement week 'ast sum-mer, when it was announced that the Association had a vacancy to lill in the Board, at once the name of Dr. (lies, of the class of '93, was proposed, The marked enthusiasm which greeted his nomination as the nominee to the Board, and the hearty and unanimous election which immediately followed, was a bigh and merited endorsement by the general alumni body. In addition THE MERCURY. to this, the Pittsburg-Gettysbtfrg Club and the New York-Get-tysburg Club, have, in specific resolutions, unanimously second-ed the request of the general Association. The existence of a provision, which bars from election, an alumnus who is a member of a college faculty cannot consistently be recognized by the Board at its meeting (bis summer, since it has already, and very justly, ignored the propriety of such an objection, by the'elec-tion of Professor. Eisenhart, The qualifications of Doctor Gies ;is a counselor in educational matters are beyond question. He has been a university man for the past fifteen years. He *m.< ■' received his degree of Do-.tor of Philosophy at Yale in 1898, and that fall began to organize a department of Physiological Chemistry in Columbia University. So well did he succeed in this work that in 1904, or in eleven years after his graduation here, he became a full professor in that great university. Our college, needs (he interest of its alumni, and it needs the active counsel and assistance of those of our alumni graduates who have a practical acquaintance with the educational methods of on- dav. Alumni spirit needs the fosteiing care of recogni-tion, in order that it^iecoiiie^a power for good in advancing the interests of our beloved college We have an institution here to be proud of. E desire to utter the it-liberate judgment, based upon history, observation and fact, that Pennsylvania College has always compared favorably with any other American collegiate institution,—in respect to advantages offered, the standing of its alumni in the higher ac-tivities of life, and. in the representative character of its student body. ■ • Through veais of toil, and by reason of the devotion of its ardent trends and the labors of its instructors, Pennsylvania College has secured to itself a rich prestige of scholarly tradi-tions, and a name and fame for honest achievement, which we . -will do well to guard with jealous care. The past is secure. No profane tongue may successfully dis-credit either the work or the workers. The success of the in-stitution has been evolutionary, cumulative, progressive and we of to-day have inherited a privilege and an obligation. The de-cades of the past mark successive periods of continuous growth and development, and the obligation is insistent that future de- 10 THE MERCURY. cades shall come to their proper inheritance. The work of the present is admirably consonant with the achievements of the past. Progress is still the watchword, as is witnessed by the recent additions in instructors, new departments and new courses. All hail, then, to bur college in its continued onward strides, and all hail to thai essential alumni spirit, which if properly recognized and nourished, will do wonders for our alma mater. And all hail to our undergraduate body of students, who are now diligently cultivating college spirit and class spirit, in order that they may become efficiently equipped with an abundant alumni snirit. [Note:—This address was delivered by Dr. Stahley upon his initiation into the Pen and Sword Society at its annual public .neeting February twelfth. The members of the Society, appre-ciating its excellence, unanimously voted after its collation, to have it published in the MERCURY in order that those who were not present at the time it was delivered might have an opportu-nity of reading it.—EDITOR.] THE 3IEKCURY. 11 THREE GREAT PHILOSOPHERS. Plato—Part II. Cir.VHI.ES W. HEATHCOTE, '05. HE underlying principle in Plato's philosophy is his Theory of Ideas. The various philosophers who pre-ceded Plato prepared the way for the development of his Doctrine of Ideas. He takes the golden thread which runs through their philosophical systems and withvhis master mind weaves the network for his own system. In great part he was indebted to the Eleatics, Heracliteans and Pytha-goreans for his Doctrine of Ideas. He took the abstract matter of thought and moulded it into a "concrete form of an ideal vision." . The Idea.- ( iBei ) stand as archetypes of Being. They are the conceived essence of true existence. Plato gave to the Ideas a separate existence. Their home is in the Universal Mind or God. There is a gradual rise from the lower ideas to the high-est. The highest is the idea of the Good which Plato seems to identify with God and which he construes to be the source of knowledge. Plato was in harmony, in part, at least with the current view of his age, in recognizing the existence of certain minor dieties, but he purified this thought with the true spirit of his philoso-phy. He asserts again and again that the Ideas are divine. In recognizing one Supreme Idea, he held that this Idea was the Highest or God: As a manifestation of this goodness, God cre-ated the world. Or as Zeller well says: "In thus determining the highest Being as the Good, and as Season assigning an end, Plato apprehends it as the creative principle, revealing itself in the Phenomenon; because God is good, He formed the world." In forming the world, Plato firmly held in mind that God had created it perfect. It was not controlled and governed by Blind Force. Law and order prevailed everywhere as the rul-ing factors. Thus mind and intelligence formed the basis of all this creative power. As Plato conceived of God's intelligence being so clearly marked in its perfect form of creation, he also developed the idea of the World-soul. .That is Plato believed 12 THE MERCURY. that intelligence could not exist apart from the soul life. Con-sequently, he believed that God placed the world's intelligence into a true soul-life known as the World-soul. Plato divided this World-soul into two parts, known as the outer and inner. These •parts conceived of as being spherical in form make up the world-system. The outer circle is the system of fixed stars and the inner "the seven spheres of the planets." Thus the soul on ac-count of it; very nature is governed by true law and as it moves continuously it gives the proper place, position and motion of all the heavenly orbs. To tine"World-soul, because of its self-mo-tive power, he ascribes it the faculty of generating knowledge. Plato in writing of the power of the World-soul was using figurative language. It is true that he literally ascribed a sou] to the world yet.the meaning of the word as he uses it embraces too much in its broad conception. With respect to the soul of man Plato carefully reasons that God formed it out of the same elements as the World-soul, but less pure. When the Creator made the souls of men, he made as many souls as there were fixed stars and each soul had one of these stars as its true and eternal habitation. When'man was created, one of these souls would be implanted in his body. To-the soul that would be victorious over wickedness and evil it would be released from its bodily home and be restored to the realms of immortality. But the individual who would fail to-conquer the temptations of his lower nature, his soul would be condemned to dwell among the fierce beasts. But since the soul has pre-existed without bodily form, in the end it will be freed from its sinful bodily home and will fly to those realms where it can grow in power and strength and attain perfection. Plato-did not think that any one did wrong willfully, but Virtue and Good were overruled by a weak and disordered body. This was due to the improper use of the body and the lack of careful Ju-dicious exercise. Thus, parents should live nobly in order that their children would be spiritually strong, in order that the soul might be pure and reach that ideal state of perfection. He firmly believed that man was placed at the head of crea-tion and because of this grand heritage he should continually strive to live the Higher Life. Plants and animals were cre-ated for man's use and to serve his purpose. Animals were THE MERCURY. 13 formed not only as food for him, but also as the dwelling place of man's soul that had proved itself unworthy for the realms of immortal life. "Plants too are living beings, but their so\rl is of the lowest kind, capable neither of reason nor opinion, but only of desire and sensation; a soul only moved from without, to which has been denied the motion that proceeds from and re-turns into itself—self-consciousness, therefore, plants can never change their place." (Zeller page 432.) Socrates had taught that the attainment of the Good by each individual should be each one's best and noblest endeavor. Plato imbibed this golden truth from his great master and inculcated the principle that the individual should so live day by day that his soul would attain the Ideal—the Highest Good. This was to be the ultimate aim of each soul, both for the at-tainment of it in the individual life and for the interests of the State. Plato was so deeply impressed with the reality of evil in the world that the soul was never free from it. As long as the soul resided in the body it was fettered there as in a prison or a dungeon. It was unable to flee away to the Higher Life. However the soul, at. the first opportunity, he realizes, must escape from this corporeal existence and seek its home with God in order to be happy. However, true philosophy serves a pur-pose which is helpful in part, at least, that by its very essence, it has the power of purification. The soid, the center of the intelligence' desires'this philosophy not per se as a pleasure re-sulting from contemplation, but as a power and a help to purify it foi* the Higher Life that is to come. On the other hand, Plato well observes that a soul that does not feel the sting of pain, suffering and anguish could not truly appreciate the Higher Life. Though the soul may be surround-ed by wickedness in its darkest form, nevertheless, there are times when the soul is able to be glad and joyful for the rays of goodness that it is able to receive from the Eternal Light. Pleasure in a certain degree may be considered as a part of the Good. The soul in its present prison, Plato rightly believes, is able to enjoy certain pleasures that are in harmony with natural law and careful living. Those joys that require the im-proper use of the faculties are impure and destructive in their participation. The first and supreme pleasure should be the 14 TIIH JIERCUKY. contemplation of the Idea Good in the present soul Kfe and the striving to realize or actualize the Good in the present life as far as possible. This plan will make the soul truly crave Virtue. In this thought Plato truly reiterates the sublime principle of Socrates. For he emphasizes the idea that morality is based'upon a clear conception of virtuous living. The soul fills itself with the Divine Goodness through contemplation. It is the true philoso-phy of life Then the soul becomes strong and even here on earth can treak down many of the bars of evil and wickedness which summoned it. Through this power it can copy more clearly the archetype conception of Goodness, for the very thought becomes indelibly impressed upon the soul. ' It has been shown that Virtue was the great Ideal for the in-dividual to attain, so this same principle was to be the foundation of the State and Platonic Society. The Greeks held the true organization of the State to be of the utmost importance. They were taught to give true allegi-ance to th.T State. Although Plato strongly believed that moral integrity and good government were necessary for the well being of the State, but he looked upon ihe participation in its affairs not as an absolute but only a relative duty. He thinks the life of the philosopher as he contemplates, in a quiet and undisturb-ed way, on the Higher Problems of life is fulfilling the true end of living. Since it is impossible for all men to live thus, philo-sophically speaking, the State is a moral necessity in order by education to inculcate virtue in the minds of its citizens. The philosophers can only give the inhabitants of the community a true conception of Virtue and they should be the ruling class and Philosophy though united with political ideals, should oc-cupy the first place and all trouble and discontent would be avoided. Or as Uberweg says: "The State is the individual on a large scale. The highest mission of the State is the training of the citizens to virtue. In the Ideal State each of the three principal functions and corresponding virtues of the soul is represented by a particular class of citizens. These are (1) the rulers, whose virtue is wisdom; (2) the guardians or warriors, whose virtue is valor; and (3) the manual laborers and trades-men, whose virtue is self-restraint'and willing obedience. The THE MEKCURY. 13 rulers and warriors are to labor only for the realization of the true and the good: all individual interests whatsoever are for-biddui them, and they are all required to form in the strictest sense one family, without marriage and without private prop-erty." It has been observed that Plato believed in the existence of •God. He clearly shows throughout his philosophical system that lie is a Theist. He repudiates all the stories of the various gods ;is myths and false. Plato was unable to describe God fully as one who is Love, although he catches glimpses of this great fact, but it remained for the Gospel to give the conception of God to the world. In his conception, of the State he inculcates the grand truth that God must be sought after in order that virtue mav be the crowning possession of the soul. Plato also ascribes nnchangeableness and perfection to God. According to Plato in the Laws every citizen who holds public office should fear God and remember his duty to God and the soul that God gave him is higher than the body. Thus every citizen should be faithful .and honest in the discharge of his duties. It is true that the philosophical and governmental teachings of Plato were ideal in their conception, but he was nevertheless truly conscious of his surrounding conditions. He tried by his teachings to help the Athenians in a practical way toward attain-ing better governments and living. Plato more than any other philosopher made Athens the philosophical center of the world, that remained years after she lost her political supremacy. A large number of students from all parts of the world were at-tendant upon his lectures at the Academy. The influence of Plato was widely felt and as time has gone on his thought has affected philosophy and theology. After Plato's death his nephew, Spensippus, succeeded to the headship of the Academy. He was followed by Xenocrates a philosopher.of considerable ability and power. Many of the philosophers of the Platonic school departed from the original teachings of their master. They developed a phi-losophy known as Neo-Platonism which was not pure. Greek philosophy hut was a combination of Hellenic, Helraic and other Oriental speculative thought. However, true constructive historical criticism has resulted in 16 THE MERCURY. giving to the philosophical world purer Platonism and his spirit is not lost in the meshes of Neo-Platonic thought. His thought and philosophy have so deeply permeated oiu own language that gain and again in discussing various philosophical problems we will speak of Platonic conceptions unconsciously. Or as Milton n II Peneseroso has said: "Or let my lamp at midnight hour Be seen from some high lonely tower, Where 1 may oft outwatch the Bear With thrice great Hermes, or unsphere The spirit of Plato, to unfold The immortal mind that hath forsook Her mansion in this fleshy nook; And of those/lemons that are found In fire, air, flood, or under ground, Whose power hath a true consent With planet or with element." WINTER. no W.MAX. '10. The cycle of a year is closed. The seasons one by one have passed: Spring's rising beauty, summer's ioy And autumn's gold are gone at last, And now o'er every field and wood, And brook and stream in all the land There sways the scepter, firm and strong. Of old Kino- Winter's icy hand. CHE MEKCURY. 17 That 'monarch rales with will supreme; By his decree' the brooklet's voice, To summer woods, the croaning charm No more shall make the soul rejoice; For fetters, strong as hands of steel And cold as touch of gruesome Death Have bound the stream from shore to shore, Forged by King Winter's icy breath. O'er his domain a curtain white- Is falling thick and fast, The trees are bending with the load The gloomy shy upon them cast, And o'er the hill and meadow cold The icy wind and snowflakes drive, And here and there before the storm In quest of shelter snowbirds dive. Though all without is cruel, cold. Yet by the hearth there's sunshine, love; For by the fire young and old Enjoy the blessings from above; They hear the sire talk of yore, They drink to one another's health. Forgetful of the cold and snow, Enjoying all the farmer's wealth.' Though Winter rules with cruel hand, Ami cold and gloomy seemeth all; Though nature's beauties all seem gone And hopelessly thy spirits fall, Remember Winter has its joys And love and sunshine may reside Within thy heart, if thou but wilt Look on the bright and happy side. IS THE MERCURY. THE PERSONALITY OF THE MUSICIAN. II. RET WOLF.-'09. OMB one has said thai personality is individuality ex-isting in itself, with nature as a ground. Another says thai personality in a broad sense is a silent but powerful coercer of liunian minds.- 1 would not at-tempt to give a definition of it, but it seems to be a vital princi-ple of life. It is a mystery and seems to defy solution. We know to a certain extent from our own experience what perso-nality is. We see its manifestations from day to day in human ■experiences but we can not detect or define it as something thoroughly comprehended. I think we will not be over estimating when we say that one's success in life depends very greatly on one's personality. It seems that in some person; a strong individuality is a natural gift, while in others it must be acquired. A teacher's personality is a very important factor in his work. His influence over the pupil is something marvelous. His movements are watched, bis every action is carefully obseived and even his moral and mental attitude toward va-ious problems is noted. He is taken as an example; hence the importance of a strong personality. The teacher must have personality, the minister, whom we may class also as a teacher, ought to be able to command respect, the orator's influence depends upon it. the business man's success is measured largely by bis individuality and it is only the politician having some such personal magnetism, who can sway the multi-tudes. Lyinan .). Gage, formerly Secretary of the tJ. S. Treas-ury. in speaking' recently of personality, says, that deep within the man often unconscious to himself, lie the forces, the aptitudes, the desires, the anticipations, the tastes, the proclivities, the temperamental qualities which find outward expression indepen-dent of bis will. Further in the article he states that a change in our personality in the direction of improvement, whatever the cause, must come from within. The mental faculties can be strengthened by exercise an*: the emotional nature nourished by pure ideals. It is our duty to develop these useful inward forces and powers which really constitute one's personality. It is this personal factor tbat-lifts one into prominence and power, and- THE JCEItCURY. 19 gives him that strength of leadership which nothing else can do. Thus, we see of what importance individuality is in the different vocations of life. I deem a strong personality in the fine arts to be the highest kind of personality. It is really difficult to find language prop-erly to express just what is meant. While all culture has a re-lining infhiaice, continually nourishing our minds with the very best of noble ideals and aspirations, yet some arts seem to give more culture than others. Among such arts we would place music as one of the first. It would be impossible for one to de-scribe the numerous emotions and sundry expressions of feeling that musi"; reveals. Every selection of music is to represent some emotion or feeling Since we class music as such a distinguished art, the question now arises as to how a musician's personality is shown. We can safely say that this is revealed in his work as a composer or in his interpretation of the thoughts of others, as they are repre-sented in music. Harmony and teehnic must of course be mast-ered, but after a thorough knowledge of teehnic is acquired, there is boundless opportunity for expression and style. Teeh-nic. must always be a mechanical art, and as such, it has no real musical feeling in it. Fere is the opportunity to show indi-viduality. Scarcely two persons will place the same interpreta-tion upon a selection of music, thus showing the difference of human powers in interpretation. There is just as much differ-ence in the merits of musical compositions as there is in the merits of powers. Some are strictly true to nature and to life, while others are of mediocre merit. Of course, this is entirely a matter of individuality again, showing, on the other hand, a keen and perceptive mind, tnd on the other, a lack of keen in-terpretation. What we call genius is really nothing but the highest manifestation of personality. We sometimes speak of persons playing music by eae. This shows musical talent and is nothing but the crude and untrained personality seeking an out-let. It seems that the appreciation of really good music conies only through education, however broadly that term may be appli-ed. By culture we are brought to the appreciation of classical music, just as we are brought to the appreciation and preference of Shakespeare to the common, ordinary literature. 20 THE AU'JHCCJKY. It is only through persistent study that this musical person-ality can be attained. We may read numberless musical maga-zines, we may attend all tha high-grade concerts ttyat it is possi-ble for us to attend, but it is oniy by personal efforts that any-thing in this direction can be accomplished. We must take some selection, study the composer, know his nature, study the title of the composition, find out, if possible, under what circumstances lie composed that special selection, then study the music measure by measure, and endeavor to catch the spirit and feeling of the composer by placing yourself in his mental attitude. This may seem to be a rather crude method of procedure, but personally I have found it of inestimable value in interpreting a composer. Having studied a composition carefully, the next step is its proper execution. Music, if it is worthy to be called music, must appeal to our higher instincts. We must think and follow its meaning just as if we were paying attention to some one talking. This is true art at its greatest. The musician also shows his personality in the selections that he plays. Unfortunately, classical music is rather unpopular. The, popular music is light, catchy and gay and to many means simply to dance or an accompaniment. Harmony is an import-ant element in music and any selection that is harmonious is re-ceived with applause. Classical music may often seem unharmo-nious, especially to the untrained hearer. This is one reason why it is spurned. This idea of harmony in our nature rests on a psychological fact and music only serves as an excellent proof of it. There is nothing more simple and at the same time more beau-tiful than some of Mendelssohn's songs, Schumann's "Frau-merer" or Chopin's nocturnes. Such selections as these are worth mastering. Webber's "Storm" and Gottschalk's "Last Hope" are very popular. A careful study of such selections can not help but create within us noble ideals and wonderfully broaden our ethical natures. Of course we would not entirely ignore the popular music of the day, it .has its qualities and therefore has its place, but it ought to be strictly held to its place. It is well, however, whenever the opportunity comes to dem-onstrate the superior qualities of good music. Thus we can be-come acquainted with a person to a certain extent, by the kind THE MERCURY. 8] of music that he or she plays. We generally play the kind of music that we admire, because it expresses our sentiments- and feelings. We therefore embody in music, and through it, ex-press our ideals. Can there be anv higher manifestation of personality? Tqp RAINBOW HOPE. C. AliTIiri! FliY, SrEMlXARY, '08. EARLY four thousand years ago one of the spiritual giants of antiquity propounded the weighty question: "Ir a man die shall lie live again ?"—a ques-tion which lie himself answered. Probably the most thonght-of, the most talked-about, the most writ-ten- upon subject of all times has been that of immor-tality. Problems in science, art, philosophy, government, etc., all live their little day, in the arena of thought and disappear, but the human race has never outlived this question of Job's. It is still a burning thought in the hearts of the cul-tured, scientific twentieth century as it has been to all the conn-tries since the dawn of time Scholars in all branches of learn-ing are still brooding and writing upon it, and the common peo-ple are asking and re-asking this gVeat question, and will con-tinue to do so until time shall be no more. It is the one great universal problem which has maintained itself in every age and clime and has never lost its interest and power in the thought of mankind. No race or tribe of men have ever been known who were destitute of the thought of immortality. And why is it thus? Surely it must be more than "the riddle of the uni-verse." Men are not haunt.d with riddles. It's an intuition of; the human mind, an appetence of the human heart, wrought into, the whole fibre of the race that cannot be dismissed without1: some sort of solution, any more than the appetence of li.iui.u"<-i - that gnaws in the stomach and demands satisfaction. 22 THE MEHUURY. "It must be so Plato, thou reasoneth well! Else whende this pleasing hope, tbis fond desire. This longing after immortality? Or whence this secret dread and inward horror Of falling into naught? Why shrinks the soul Back on herself, and startles at destruction ? 'Tis the divinity that stirs within us; Tis heaven itself that points out an hereafter, And intimates eternity to man." Listen to the testimony of Eobert G. Ingersoll, the prince of modern agnostics, in the last words he wrote: "Immortality with its countless hopes and fears beating against the shores of time, was not born of any book nor of any creed, nor of any religion. It was born of human affection, and will continue to ebb and pow beneath the mists and clouds of at. doubt and darkness as long as love kisses the lips of death. It is the rainbow of hope, shining on the tears of grief " What strange words from one who shrouded that "rainbow of hope" in wreathing clouds of doubt and fear and darkness, to whose thought "the golden bridge of life from gloom emerges and on shadow rests, and the secret of the future has ne'er been told." However, men may reject God's revelation in His Son, or deny the future life, yet they cannot utterly silence the voice of God speaking in their hearts. Yes, there are some who say,—and their number is so infmi-tessimally small that we may rightfully call them mental curios, yes mental freaks, if you please—that "death ends all." What a horrible thought! The Gnod, the True, the Pure, shall at least become the brother of the Base, the False, the Vile in death. Tendencies and qualities that in life are far.as the poles asunder, and can never be rconciled, shall at least become a unit in deat'i If that be true, then virtue has no lasting rewards, then unde-tected wrong-doing will forever go unpunished, and the wrongs inflicted upon innocence will never be made right. If death ends all then life has no meaning, no purpose, no inspiration., "and the human race with all its grand achievements, with it-continuous onward and upward march will finally reach the THE MERCURY. 23 zenith of perpetual night, beyond which shines no resurrection morn The light in the sun and stars shall be extinguished, the human race with all that it has done and hoped, shall become a nonentity, and the universe will go into everlasting darkness. Standing at the grave of sieve loved one how much comfort does that theory give:" How much light does it throw upon the dark avenues of human life? How much strength does it impart for the bearing of life's burdens? What inspiration to high en-deavor and noble living does it kindle? None! To affirm the negative of being is to rob hope, faith, patience, love, forbear-ance and kindred graces that enrich life and make character beautiful, of their meaning, and make them well nigh valueless. The noblest aspirations of the heart and the loftiest Teasoning of the mind all revolt when confronted with the postulate of eternal non-existence. Not only within ourselves do we find the intimations of a higher life, but all nature round about us seems to voice the truthfulness of our intimations. The natural world teem? with analogies which suggest the eternal life of the spirit. Take for example the migrations of birds, and especially the ndy-thmated humming bird, the only humming bird known around here. When the leaves begin to fall and the flowers fade he wends his way toward the South American home and spends the winter in his warmer native climes beyond the Amazon. But when it's, early spring here, he becomes restless and yields him-self to the migratory instincts working in his being. If you were, to ask him where or how far he is going, he couldn't tell you, for he doesn't know. All he knows is that his instincts tell him to fly and they point out to him The direction in which he shall go. So he starts out for the far north lands thousands of miles away, feeding by day, flying by night over mountains and plains and seas until he arrives here in these temperate zones of the North, where the dimly implanted instinct of migration which he has obeyed, finds its fullest satisfaction: God never cheats the little bird. So every human being is endowed with the instinct of immortality. Constantly within us we feel the movements of the higher life. There's an inward impulse that tells of a higher world order and bids us seek it, and with our superior intelligence and the light of God's Word we follow this dimly-implanted impulse, we too shall be satisfied, for the God 2<± THE MERCURT. who does not deceive the little humming bird will not deceive man. "He who, from zone to zone, (inides through the boundless sky the certain flight, In the long way that I must tread alone Will lead my steps aright." Nature literally abounds witb bints on immortality, and as men of large vision, like Bacon. Newton and Fiske. uncover her secrets they find nothing that would contradict our best hopes, yea. many of these men acquainted with nature's workings have built their arguments for immortality on this very knowledge. For the Christian believer, however, this problem is no longer on debateable ground. His Lord and Master lias spoken the final word and revealed for human life, a destiny so glorious, a purpose so exalted, that it makes life well worth the living, ting-ing it with rainbows of joyous hopes and golden promises, not ending in "zero and a wall of blackness," but sweeping up through the clouds, and beyond the stars, to the walls of jasper, the gates of pearl, the streets of gold, and "the river of the water of life clear as crystal proceeding out of the throne of God." To such the question of immortality is not a nightmare of thought, nor is the future wreathed in mists and fogs so dense that we cannot know what lies beyond, but rather is bright and radiant :as the noonday sun. Jesus Christ is the one all-convincing an-swer to this problem of the ages. He alone is the all-satisfying response to the cry of the human spirit for God and the life be-yond, and in Him the native intuition and longing for immor-tality is transformed into one of the abiding, unshakeable cer-tainties of existence, so that with him who "heard the voice from heaven as the sound of many waters and saw the holy city, the New Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven" we can say, "Xow are we the sons of God and it doth not yet appear what we shall be, but we know that when He shall appear, we shall be like Him for we shall see Him as He is." THE MEROBBTSJ 25 CAW AN ACCEPTABLE SUBSTITUTE FOR PREACHING BE DEVISED? f E-IEHAKT '09. X this tiny and generation when men arc prone to look with disdain upon the "Old Things" and are con-tinually striving to produce something now, original, and up-to-date; when men are much inure attracted, by worldly things than their own soul's salvation; when the mere fact that the preaching of the Gospel is able to claim its true origin from Christ and therefore to be classed among the prac-tices of the ancients, we often cast about us and seek a substi-tute for the preaching of the Gospel from the pulpit. Can there ever be found a substitute for the active, earnest, consecrated minister, whom everyone must recognize and to "whom so much of our scanty praise is due? . Without a doubt there would be or perhaps have been suggest-ed ways and means whereby a substitute for preaching could be obtained, but when we get down to the very essence of things it is clearly apparent to a man of ordinary common sense that it would be impossible to do so without very dire results following. • The very nature of man demands it, it seems. .Man must have some ideal, perfect and spotless, kind yet omnipotent, to look to, to worship, and to whom his mind may turn for help in time of trouble,—for to many, trouble alone will cause God to come into their thoughts. The natural mind demands this. We see it among all nations and classes, from our own class of people down to the lowest forms of human kind. If the heathen in his superstition, fol-lowing the inclination of his mind and. fearful of things un-known to him worships so reverently in his blind way. and is so diligent in doing what has been laid down to him as precepts. how much more ought we who are certain and assured in our faith and have reason to believe ours to be a real and ever pres-ent God, one to whom we owe much and to whom our poor thanks and praises are ever due? How much greater should be our reason to guard ourselves and strive to abide by what has so often been impressed upon us both by word and t\w<]! The natural man is open and susceptible to suggestion to a. 26 THE MERCURY. very marked degree, being ever ready to yield to and turn aside whenever am rldly plJ«easun obsta the h "/on,. regardless of the consequences. In his weakness, he must have some outside agent to offset these, evil influences that sur-round him and by counter suggestion or example turn his mind toward the true way to happiness, away from the gaudy "fool's gold" of the world. I hear the question, "Cannot man by studying his Bible thor-oughly, the concordance of the Scriptures, and books of such a nature, if he is earnest so hold, guide and guard himself as to he above and beyond these evil influences as well as he who goes to church front Sunday to Sunday and listens to sermons direct from the same sources?" Ai first thought this would no doubt seem good logic and peiv haps in theory would be beneficial, but let us consider:— Take it for granted,—although we all know such would not be the case,—that each church-goer and church member would study his Bible lesson thoroughly, think it out for himself, weigh it carefully and eventually apply it to himself as it seems best to him. would he derive as much bench! ami see the same pre-cepts embodied in the subject as he who has listened to a well prepared sermon by an eloquent minister, whose business it is to make a careful research along such lines and then goes home to ponder and reflect? As a powerful analogous example take our own colleges: they stand out squarely against any such principle. They recognize that men cannot attain to any degree of perfection of knowledge through dry text books alone. We ourselves know that more real knowledge comes to us through the lectures than any mere study of the text could warrant. The living voice is the prime factor in all education, shown only loo clearly in the Mu<\y of languages, including our own. The Christians as well as the students cannot possibly get in a few hours' study what their ministers or teachers get who have spent many years or even a lifetime doing only such work. Xo matter how diligently and faithfully Christians would work and study their Bibles, ours.would soon be a divided reli-gion, falling far short of its original purpose, a subject for con-troversy, doomed to Sorrow and despair, because of the manv THE MEKCURY. 27 different and even false interpretations which would of neces-sity be put upon the Scriptures, whether through sincerity on the part of the Christians or by the unscrupulous. We need not even take into consideration the natural back-sliders or the lower and less'educated classes of people for their condition speaks out strongly for itself against any course such as would be proposed. They of a certainty cannot do without the willing shepherd's care and attention. In order that the Word of God may become popular and stand out against and hold its own with the other attractive literature of to-day, it must be preached, spoken from the pulpit and its beauty and powerful truths shown as well as to have light thrown upon it. What has made Roosevelt and his policies so popular? The MTV fact that he is able to preach (speak) his theories and then by example prove their value. I dare say his policies are reeog-. nized all over the world and only because he does not hesitate to speak them and then practice what he preaches. The lawless forces in our country attack, and yet fear him and his disciples, striving to bring about their downfall as strongly as does Satan and his mighty host to bring to naught the works of righteous-no.- and God's worshippers throughout the world. Can we see any advantages arising in view of such conditions, if we should substitute? But examine and consider the doctrines and teachings of the great, noble, men in the church of the past and we see that they too. whose authority and precepts we must accept on account of their value alone, have not overlooked this very thing and that they realize fully that the existence or non-existence of our church rests alone in the preaching of God's Word. Paul in 1 Cor. 1:1
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Review for Religious - Issue 46.2 (March/April 1987)
Issue 46.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1987. ; Modern Media and Comn~unity Vocation Directors and Sexuality Trends in Spirituality--1986 An Experience of Group Direction Volume 46 Number 2 March/April, 1987 Rl~v~l~w VOR RIz~,~c;~ous (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with 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. REvw.w RF~l_~c,~otJs is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO © 1987 by REv~.w ~:OR RV, t,~G~OtJS. 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 year. For subscription orders or change of address, write: R~:viFzw vor~ R~:~Acaot~s: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F.X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editor March/April, 1987 Volume 46 Number 2 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the edilor should be sent to REVIEW I.'OR R~:~.~taotls: 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 R~:v~:w ~'ou RE~,W.~o~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. The Fi st Stage tO"Union: The Active Night Of the .Senses Susan A. Muto Doctor Muto is Director of Duquesne's Institute of Formative Spirituality (Duquesne University; Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania 15282). St. John of the Cross' teaching in the first book of the Ascent of Mount Carmel presupposes that the sojourner has reached that stage in the spiritual life where he or she Js ready to advance beyond the beginnings of prayer and awaken to the deeper regions of divine intimacy. Thus he writes here for (advanced) beginners and persons already proficient in such virtues as detachment, humility and charity. The aim of Book One is threefold: to help an already well,formed self, one who has tasted certain pleasures and satisfactions, to unburden itself of worldly, inordinate attachments; to share the knowledge the saint has gathered through his own reading, experience, and direction as to how souls are to avoid spiritual obstacles; and to describe in concrete detail the way in which one can live in the freedom of spirit necessary, for divine union. It is wise at this point to read the poem, "One Dark Night," and return to it, for its moving images teach--more than abstract concepts can--how happy the soul is to pass through the nights of sense and spirit to union with its Beloved. In the Prologue to Book One the master says that his guides on this journey will be, above all, the desire for God, along with the background wisdom provided by Sacred Scripture and the doctrine of the Church. He immediately identifies two main obstacles to advancement, these being, in a phrase, inadequate direction and inadequate appraisal. Spiritual directors, 161 Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 lacking both sufficient knowledge and experience.of what is happening to the pilgrim soul may unwittingly encourage persons to continue in their old ways. Then, too, the person himself or herself may neither know how to nor want to advance. Even if the Lord comes, they are not willing to adapt themselves to his work. They resist the flow of grace or refuse to cooperate. Thus: God gives many souls the talent and grace for advancing, and should they desire to make the effort they would arrive at this high state. And so it is sad to see them continue in their lowly method of communion with God because they do not want or know how to advance, or because they receive no direction on breaking away from the methods of beginners (AMC, I, Prologue, 3/70).* Failing to understand that God is the author of this enlightenment, ill-prepared directors may urge persons, instead of advancing, to return to former ways of prayer or to make many general confessions. They do not realize that now is not the time for such activity: Indeed it is a period for leaving these persons alone in the pu~'gation God is working in them, a time to give comfort and encouragement that they may desire to endure this suffering as long as God wills, for until then, no remedy--whatever the soul does, or the confessor says--is adequate (AMC, I, Prologue, 5/71). Having said this, St. John begins in Chapters One and Two to explain the imagery of'the "night" that will guide both him and the soul. Early evening or twilight marks the point of departure, the time of purgation, for the soul will experience deprivations of its appetites for worldly pleasure, possessiohs; powers. As one mortifies these, one is led deeper into the night--to the midnight hour of dense darkness where the only means of progress is faith, where intellect is deprived of its normal modes of knowing so that one may be made ready for the secret and intimate self-communications of God. The night eventually gives way to daybreak, to the dawn, which symbolizes the point of God's arrival, the time of love's illumination transformed into perfect union with the Lover: Thus these phases of the night encompass the threefold path of purgation, illumination, and union, not as something accomplished once and for all in linear fashion, but as an ongoing cycle of deprivation, restoration, and transformation. One discovers through the nights of sense and spirit that, as St. Teresa of Avila says, on this walk through life God alone suffices. No object of sense, no concept, image, or idea, can fulfill our infinite desire. The point of Chapter Three is to identify the first cause of this night as the "privation"~or deprivation of perverted desires or appetites. Perhaps The First Stage to Union this is St. John's way of explaining, as a necessary condition for.spiritual deepening, control of the pleasure principle. This control actually effects a rechanneling of vital energies so that they flow from and return to their transcendent source. We must go through this "night" in order to restore the equilibrium thrown off by excessive attachment to the gratifications afforded by our relations, sensually speaking, to persons, things and events. It is clear from the context of this chapter that St. John believes that all creation is good; nothing is evil in itself. Ideally we ought to proceed from the manifestations of God to God himself. In reality, due to the spiritual blindness imposed by our fallen condition, we cling frantically to these vital gratifications. By refusing to let them go, we disavow them. as pointers to their Creator. We tend to make them ultimate sources of pleasure or posses-sion. They become idols or ends in themselves. The result of not entering the night of sense deprivation is, therefore, an increase of formation igno-rance or forgetfulness of our true transcendent" nature--the dynamic that marks our most distinctive human quality. Hence, we need the "night" to reawaken our capacity to remember the Creator in our sense perception of creatures. That is to say, we must see through the visible to the invisible Reality. We are not to remain only on the surface of things but to behold in faith the depth dimension. By darkening the senses of hearing, seeing, smelling, tasting and touching, one is paradoxically free and empty of all things, even though one possesses them. In short: "Since the things of the world cannot enter the soul, they are not in themselves an encumbrance or harm to it; rather, it is the will and appetite dwelling within it that causes the damage" (AMC, 1, 3, 5/77). St. John now goes on, in effect, in Chapters Four and Five to suggest three steps to follow on this phase of the journey through the dark night to God. They are, in a word, remembrance, comparison and renunciation., In the first place, to be freed from this idle/idol illusion, one must strive to remember the right relation between creation and the Creator. Curiously enough, this re-membering has to do with dismembering, that is, of divesting ourselves of inordinate attachments to things as they are in themselves, as if they could be separated f~om their Creator. To dismember a thing as ultimate is to re-member it as dependent on God.Such detachment, while painful, helps one to appreciate things much more as manifestations of the goodness of God. By contrast, one who is clothed in these affections (versus dis-membered) will be "incapable of the enlightenment and dominating full-ness of God's pure and simple light, unless he rejects them" (AMC, I, 4, 1/77-78). Harsh as it may sound, St. John holds firm to his conviction that the light of divine union cannot be established in the soul until these (inordi-nate) affections are eradicated. A more positive way of making the point 164 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 might be to ~ay t~at when our idolizing ~lesire to take pleasure in and to possess things as such is mortified, we can appreciate them as they are in their pristine origin and beauty. We move in this way from a posture of violence and control to one of love and letting be, from an attitude of manipulation and calculation to one of compassion. A second helpful step at this stage of the journey is to set up a comparison between the finite, limited nature of things as distinct from the "how much more" of the infinite. For example, the Sea of Galilee compared to the sea of God's love is like a drop of water compared to the Pacific Ocean. Simi-larly, creatures, however beautiful, elegant and abundant they may be, com-pared to their Creator are as darkness compared to light, are as coarseness compared to grace, or ignorance compared to ability. Through this exercise in comparison, St. John introduces us to the Reality Principle, namely, he wants us to see things as they really are in their limited value and as pointers to the limitlessness of thei'r Lord. Via this comparison, we will be better able to break the tendency to make any "little beyond" into the "True Be~,ond"' and hence _to. r_is_k !nitiating a pseud.o-spirituality that invests in something finit~ the richness of the Infinite. Understanding this point of comparison enables us to read Chapter Four as a litany of praise to our Creator God: ¯ . . all the being of creatures compared with the infinite being of God is nothing . All the beauty of creatures compared with the infinite Beauty of God is supreme ugliness . All the grace and elegance of creatures compared with God's grace is utter coarseness and crudity. (AMC, l, 4, 4/79). Here St. John would agree fully with St. Paul that the wisdom of the world is mere foolishness in God's sight (1 Co 3:19). Clearly, the meaning of these statements does not intend for us to reject creaturely being, beauty, grace and ability as bad, but to place these attributes in their proper rela-tion to God. They will all pass away, but not his word. Creaturely qualities, no matter how rich, are ultimately poor in comparison to the Being, Beauty, Elegance and Wisdom of God. Our hope resides not in this or that momen-tary pleasure or possession but in God alone. If the first step out of illusion is to remember our nothingness without God, then the second step is to compare his eternal truth with whatever is temporal. The promise he makes to us is more trustworthy than any stopping place on the path of formation. Thus it is up to us to keep running the race to the end, which means not resting ultimately in anything but God, for, as St. Augustine has said so beautifully, our hearts are restless until they rest in him. Or, to again quote St. John: The First Stage to Union All the sovereignty and freedom of the world compared with the f~eedom and sovereignty of the Spirit of God is utter slavery, anguish, and cap-tivit3; . All the delights and satisfactions of the will in the things of the world in contrast to all the delight that is God is intense suffering, tor-ment and bitterness . All the wealth and, glory of creation compared with the wealth that is God is utter poverty and misery in the Lord's sight (AMC, I, 4, 6, 7/80). The third step, as suggested in Chapter Five, is the most radical, for St. John says that total renunciation is the condition par excellence for pure transformation. Here paradox prevails, Just as knowing is only possible in unknowing, so freedom of spirit or liberation is the result of detachment or renunciation. One must empty the appetite of all the natural and super-natural things which can be a hindrance to the journey to God. This kenotic experience does not happen once and for all but demands habitual effort in cooperation with the graces God is bestowing. The language here allows for no compromise: , The road and ascent to God, then, necessarily, demands a habitualeffort to renounce ~nd mortify the appetites; the sooner this mortification is achieved~ the sooner the soul re~ches the top. But until the appetiteff are eliminated, a person will not arrive, no matter how much virtue he practices. For he will fail to acquire perfect virtue, which lies in keeping the soul empty, naked and purified of every appetite (AMC, I, 5, 6/83). If we desire to climb the summit of the mount "in order to become an altar for the offering of a sacrifice of pure love and praise," we must strive to accomplish three.tasks, described through the following metaphors: first, we must "cast out strange gods," meaning that we have to let go of any affections and attachments that tend to alienate us from God; secondly, we must purify ourselves of their residue through habitual denial (saying no for the sake of a greater yes) and--for as often as we fail to do so-- through habitual, confident repentance (trusting that God's mercy responds with motherly tenderness to our misery); and, thirdly, we must take on a "change of garments," meaning that we must be clothed in a "new under-standing of God [through the removal of the understanding of the old man], and in a new love of God in God . " In this way, we move from igno-rance of who we really are toward acceptance of our being made in the form and likeness of God, of our being, as St. John puts it, "his worthy dwelling." The saint is one who says with every fiber of his or her being: "My God and my all!" One accepts this truth without flinching: "The only appetite God permits and wants in his dwelling place is the desire for the perfect fulfillment of his law and the carrying of his cross" (AMC, I, 5, 8/84). Having reflected on the meaning and demands of total renunciation and "166 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 the liberation it brings, St. John moves on in the next five chapters (Six through Ten) to analyze the harms the appetites engender in the soul. There are two main areas of harm, the one privative, the other positive. In general, unruly appetites deprive us of God's spirit. By our attachment to a created thing weoare less capable of soaring free to God. St. John relies for his reason-ing on the philosophical fact that two contraries cannot coexist in the same person. Therefore, "Since love of God and attachment to creatures are con-traries, they cannot coexist in the same will" (AMC, I, 6, 2/85). In biblical terms, rather than accept our privilege as children of God to eat at his table, we act like dogs who must eat the crumbs that fall to the floor. We refuse to rise from the "crumbs" of creatures to the uncreated Spirit of the Father. It stands to reason that "this uncreated fullness cannot find entry to a soul until this other hunger caused by the desires is expelled" (AMC, I, 6, 3/85). As to the second harm, which is positive, we must realize that numerous. impediments are wrought in the soul by inordinate appetites, the most obvious of these being that they weary, torment, darken, defile and weaken the true seeker. Our spiritual life suffers in the first place because these appe-tites weary and tire us to death. He compares them to restless, discontented children, who wear their mothers out trying to please them. Satisfied at one moment, they demand more satisfaction the next. The more one quiets their cravings, the more demanding they become. One feels increasingly agitated, disturbed, fatigued. Like the pulsion governing physical hunger or sexual need, so appetites in general are stirred to satisfy themselves endlessly. St. John makes this analogy: Just as a lover is wearied and depressed when on a longed-for day his oppor-tunity is frustrated, so is a man wearied and tired by all his appetites and their fulfillment, because the fulfillment only causes more hunger and empti-ness. An appetite, as they say, is like a fire that blazes up when wood is thrown on it, but necessarily dies out when the wood is consumed (AMC, I, 6, 6/87). Such desires make it impossible for us to live in the longing for God alone, for instead of him, weexpect them to satisfy us. It is as if we keep looking for heaven on earth. Thus we become ready victims of illusory promises of fulfillment. We give in to the pressures of consumerism. In both cases the sad reward is discontent, for we have turned unwittingly from God who alone can satisfy us. These inordinate appetites not only wear us-out, they also torment us. They gnaw at us mercilessly, as if we were bound by tight cords or tortured on a rack. The torment would be comparable to that which a person suffers who lies naked on thorns and nails; who is in pain; who knows no peace; who is always thirsty. In contrast to what happens to us when the cord of The First Stage to Union / 167 desires tightens around us, when the possessions we cling to desperately possess us, think of the liberation of the children of God. Consider the refreshing peace that is ours when we surrender our will to his. Instead of wasting our efforts, why don't we delight in the abundance of God? We should learn to see that this movement to~vard abundance is a departure from the pleasures of crea-tures, because the creature torments, while the Spirit of God refreshes'.' -Accordingly, God calls us through St. Matthew. as though he were to say: All you going about tormented, afflicted, and weighed down by your cares and appetites, depart from them, come to me and I will refresh you; and you will find the rest for your souls that the desires take away from you (Mt 11:28-29) (AMC, 1, 7, 4/88-89). Thirdly, these self-centered desires blind us. It is as if we are living behind a cloudy pane of glass that blocks out the bright sunshine. We see only a hazy image of things--not things as they really are. Due to this blindness, it is impossible for us to think clearly. It is as if the powers of our transcen-dent mind are dulled by the excessive demands of the vital or functional spheres. Both natural reason and supernatural wisdom are darkened. And when the intellect is obscured, the will becomes weak and the memory dis-ordered. The desire for const'an~ pleasure or sensual stimulation makes reflec-tive living a virtual impossibility. Things go from bad to worse because the intellect is incapable of receiving the illumination of God's wisdom; ttie will cannot embrace the pure love of God; and the memory lessens its capacity for the impression of the serenity of God's image upon it. Unless these blinding desires are mortified, one will not advance on the way of union. It stands to reason that if the~e unruly appetites lead a person, he or sh~ is bound to be blind to the'mind's appraisal powers. One reacts on impulse, without the help of a quiet attunement to the Christ form in the core of one's being. All that is released is the counterfeit form of con-cupiscence and pride. No amount of penance can overcome this darkness if one does not root out the source of the trouble, namelyl the blinding blockage of inordinate desires. They are like a ~ataract on the eye or specks of dust in°it. Until they are removed, they obstruct vision. One way or another, in this life or in the next, these appetites have to be chastised and corrected. They have to underg6 purgation before any steady progress in the spiritual life can take place. St. John laments this condition of forma-tion ignorance in language reminiscent of the prophets: Oh, if men but knew what a treasure of divine light this blindness caused by their affections and appetites deprives them of, and the number of mis-fortunes and evils these appetites occasion each day when left unmorti-fle!! . At every step we mistake evil for good and good for evil. 16~i / Review for Religious., March-April, 1987 This is peculiar to our nature. But what will happen if appetite is added to our natural darkness? . We have felt our way along the way as though blind, we have groped as if without eye,s, and our blindness has reached the point that we stumble along in broad daylight as though walk-ing in the dark (AMC, I, 8, 6, 7/91). Using even stronger language, St. John assures us that such blind desires stain ,and defile the soul, bringing it into bondage under the rule of the autarchic-pride form, and blackening the beauty of the christ form we are called to release. We are like someone who is stained by pitch or blacker than coal--and yet we are meant to be whiter than snow or milk. This is so because even the disordered soul remains in substantial union with God. It "possesses in its natural being the perfection that God bestowed when creating .it," even though in its rational being it is full of the defilement described here. We cannot grow in Christ-likeness until this defilement, is checked by formative detachment. The tragedy is that these inclinations keep us away from the peace God is drawing us toward in the life of union. incredible as it may sound: One inordinate appetite alone., suffices to make a soul so captive, dirty, and unsightly that,until the appetite is purified the soul is incapable of con-formity with God in union. This is true even though there may be no matter for mortal sin in the appetite. What thenwill b~.the ugliness of a soul entirely disordered in its passions and surrendered to its appetites? How far it will be from God and his purity (AMC, I, 9, 3/92-93). It follows that all three faculties of the soul are affected by this kind of attachment. Just as one bad spot spoils an entire garment, so intellect, memory, and will are defiled by disordered desires. . The end result is that such desires render us lukewarm, spiritually speaking. Appetites that go unmortified eventually sap the soul of the strength it needs to persevere in the practice of virtue. In this weakened state, ours is an on-again, off-again spirituality. We are usually overdependent on consolations and only sporadically attracted to steady discipline. Appetites, as it were, divide and conquer us, whereas asceticism unites our inner faculties and makes us stronger. Lacking this discipline, we feel scattered. Our faith is easily challenged. We may.be open targets for exalted schemes that promise salvation through a wide door, not a narrow gate. We would like to master God rather than allow him to master us. What matters most is not his will but our own interpretation of the easy way. Without purgation and ongoing appraisal of the direction of our spiritual life, self-gratification, not God, becomes our center. As far as St. John is concerned, this would be hell on earth. Instead of copcentrating on strength-ening our practice of virtue, all we care about is satisfying our desii~es, Little The First Stage to Union / 169 wonder, then, that they rob us of what we already have. Unmortified appe-tites result in killing our relationship with God. Because we did not put them gently but firmly to death first, they live on to kill us. For what difference does it make if we win the whole world and lose our soul? Having spelled out in vivid detail the privative and positive harms appe-tites can cause in the soul, St. John explains again in Chapters Eleven and Twelve what kinds of appetites are detrimental to the soul. To do so he distinguishes three kinds of appetites, moving from the least to the most detrimental, these being the natural ones, the "semivoluntary and the voluiatary. Natural movements, as, for example, an ear for and an attraction to good music, are of little or no hindrance to the attainment of union, provided we do not make them the center of our attention nor pass beyond the first stage of spontaneous affinity in which the rational will plays no part. Because we are a body-mind-spirit unity, because we are born with certain givens in the realm of temperament, disposition and talent, it is impossible to eradi-cate natural appetites in this life, and, were we to do so, it would most likely be deformative. TheSe movements go hand in hand with our creatureliness. One can be experiencing them in the sensitive part of one's being, as, for instance, a hunger pang, and yet be free of the desire for food at this moment, as, for instance, during a liturgy, in the rational part of one's being. These movements can even be stirring in a person who is experiencing an intense union of will in the prayer of quiet. These appetites may actually dwell in the sensory part of the soul, yet the superior part pays no attention to them, just as there can be foam on the ocean's surface and deep calm underneath the sea. One. may even feel certain sexual stirrings without in the least detract-ing from one's absorption in God in the center of one's being. As long as one pays no attention to them--rletting them buzz in and out like flies but not stopping to swat them--one need not be concerned about them. Such is not the case with the other appetites--~whether the less grave, which involve venial sin, or the most serious, which involve mortal sin. The trouble with natural movements, which are the least of them all, is that one can consent to them and be forthwith ~aught up in imperfections that are contrary to God's will. If one is to reach (he perfection of union with God through one's will and love, it is obvious that one must be freed from every appetite, howe~,er slight. One must have the strength and freedom to be able--in the face of temptation--to refuse consent. There is a difference between "ad~,ertence" Or "knowingly" falling into imperfections, and "inad-vertence" or falling without much knowledge or control of the matter. These are the semivoluntary sins because of which it is said that the just man will fall seven times a day and rise up again. Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 The real problem resides with the voluntary appetites. Anyone of these, even the most trifling, is sufficient to impede union. Especially problematic are the "habitual appetites," because scattered acts rooted in diverse desires are not such a hindrance. They are not a determine~l habit--yet ultimately the soul must be liberated of these too since they both proceed from and may lead to habitual imperfection. Habitual, voluntary imperfections that are not completely mortified not only stand in the way of divine union but also hinder spiritual prog~ress as such. St. John gives some examples of what he means by habitual imperfections (those deformed dispositions that prevent us from responding fully and freely to the call to love). ¯ . . the common habit of loquacity; a small attachment one never really desires to conquer, for example, to a person, to clothing, to a book or a cell, or to .the way food is prepared, and to other trifling conversa-tions . Any of these habitual imperfections, and attachment to them, causes as much harm to an individual as ,would the daily commission of many other imperfections (AMC, I, 11, 4/97). Harsh as it may sound, St. John will not compromise his conviction that such an attachment, however trifling it ma~, seem, will make it impossible in the long run for one to progress in perfection. Something as simple as insisting on the same place in a church pew, and compelling others to crawl over one, can hinder the spiritual flight the saint is talking about. The point is: It makes little difference whether a bird is tied by a thin thread or by a cord. For even if tied by thread, the bird will be prevented from taking off just as surely as if it were tied by cold--that is, it ~vill be impeded from flight as long as it does not break the thread . This is the lot of a man who is attached to something: no matter how much virtue he has he will not reach the freedom of divine union (AMC, I, 11, 4/97). In one text after another, St. John comes back to this issue. How regret-table that a soul laded like a rich vessel with the wealth of good deeds, spiritual exercisesand virtues never leaves port because one lacks the courage to break the rope of a little satisfaction, attachment or affection. God gives them the power to sever other stronger cords while they cling to some childish act or thing God ask~ them to overcome for love of him. Not only do they fail to advance; they even turn back for so ,mething that amounts to no more than a thread or a hair. And, "Everyone knows that not to go forward on this road is to turn back, and not to gain ground is to lose." The goal of union demands that we do not stop on the road, but that we continually mortify our appetites rather than indulge them. For how can a log of wood be transformed into the fire if a single degree of heat is lacking to its prepa- The First Stage to Union ration? Similarly, itis St. John's contention that the soul "will not be trans-formed in God even if it has only one imperfection." This is so because a person has only one will, and if this is encumbered or occupied by any-thing, it will not possess the freedom, solitude and purity requisite for divine transformation. Complementing these clarifications from Chapter Eleven are a few of his Sayings of Light and Love, for example, Saying 23--"He who does not allow his appetites to carry him.away will soar in his spirit as swiftly as the bird that lacks no feathers" (668). Returning to the topic of the kinds of harm the appetites can cause in the soul, St. John explains, in regard to privative evil or the loss of grace, that only the voluntary appetites whose object may involve mortal sin can do this~completely--that is, deprive the soul of grace in this life, and glory, the possession of God, in the next. The positive evils (weariness, torment, blindness, defilement, weakness) correspond in general to a turning toward creatures, just as the privative involve an aversion from God. Naturally, the degree of harm depends on whether the appetite leads to mortal or venial sin, whether it is voluntary or semivoluntary. The harm. caused by each appe-tite can be direct or indirect. For example, vainglory positively harms the soul in all the ways mentioned, but it most principally darkens and blinds it. The point to keep in mind is that all these evils together oppose the acts of virtue, which generate the contrary and corrective effect. For example, a virtuous act produces in one mildness, peace, comfort, light, purity, and strength; an inordinate appetite brings with it torment, fatigue, and so on. In short: "Through the practice of one virtue all the virtues grow, and similarly, through an increase in one vice, all the vices and their effects grow" (AMC, I, 12, 5/100). Don't we all know from experience (think of that overstuffed feeling after a too rich meal) that "the appetite when satisfied seems .sweet and, pleasant, but eventually the sour effect is felt." We cannot avoid this basic truth that if and when we allow ourselves to be carried away by our appetites, the bitter effect of losing our-selves in vitalistic feelings or functionalistic preoccupations is inevitable. Such is not the case with the natural, involuntary appetites. Though disturbances in this realm may seem to defile one, the actual resistance of them has the opposite effect. In this struggle one wins strength, purity and many other blessings, for as our Lord told St. Paul: "Virtue is made perfect in weakness" (2 Co 12:9). Since, in conclusion, it is the voluntary appetites that bring on all these evils--and even more--the chief concern of spiritual directors with their directees ought to be the "immediate mortification of every appe-tite." Nothing less than this emptiness-will liberate them. We come now to the famous Chapter Thirteen of Book One of the Ascent in which St. John delineates some counsels pertaining to the active night 179 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 of the senses or how one can conquer and overcome voluntary appetites. Though one is doing what one can, this very action is dependent on the "already-thereness" of God's grace, prompting one to enter this night and thereby come "quickly" to the passive way in which God accomplishes this work in us. What is this "abridged method" that leads us from~nothing to everything, from emptiness to fullness, from renunciation to liberation, from being bound to soaring free? It proceeds in a series of steps, which we shall summarize here. 'First and foremost comes the habitual desire to imitate Christ in all of one's deeds. Nothing is more important on the way of perfection than bring-ing our lives into conformity with his. This being with the Christ form implies the ongoing reading (lectio continua) of the Scriptures together with their more concentrated study (lectio divina). Knowing him through his words and actions, we can better emulate his attitudes in our own situation, thus drawing our entire existence more and more into union and communion with his. It follows that to succeed in this imitation, we need to calm down and by and large renounce sensory satisfactions severed from that which gives honor and glory to God. We cannot do this on basis of willpower alone; our motivation must emerge not from fear but from our love of the Lord who came to show us how we are to go through him to the Father. His one desire in life was to fulfill the Father's will, which "he called his meat and food" (Jn 4:34). What does this decision mean concretely? The key resides in the phrase "do not desire," and it means do not desire to hear, . look upon, act, take pleasure in anything that is unrelated to the service and glory of God. St. John would never be against enjoying good music, if we have an ear for it, of appreciating the beauty of art or nature, or in delivering or hearing a moving sermon. What bothers him is our tendency to stop at this literal level instead of going through and beyond it to the transliteral, sacred mystery. One cannot help but experience satisfaction in these sensory goods. The important directive is not to desire the gratifica-tion as such but to desire the God who gratifies. By this method, we leave the senses, as it were, in darkness and, from the spiritual point of view, "gain a great deal in a short time." Such vigilance, perhaps understood as purity or singleness of heart, leads to the tranquilizing or harmonizing of the natural passions of joy, hope, fear, and sorrow--four emotions that constitute the basis of the active purga-tion of the will by love in Book III, Chapter Sixteen ff, of the Ascent. Here it is sufficient to present a few maxims that represent a first formula for pacifying these passions while practicing many virtues. Note here as well that what we are pacifying is the passion for (inordinate attachment to) satis- The First Stage to Union / 17'3 factions that are self-centered; expectations that are willful; anxieties rooted in our search for security; and depressions due to lack of control, and not having things go our way. Only if we understand this can we understand and accept as wise these well-known maxims: Endeavor to be inclined always: not to the easiest, but to the most difficult; not to the most delightful, but to the harshest; not to the most gratifying, but to the less pleasant; not to what means rest for you, but to hard work; not to the consoling, but to the unconsoling; not to the most, but to the least; not to the highest and most precious, but to the lowest and most despised; not to wanting something, but to wanting nothing; do not go about looking for the best of temporal things, but for the worst, and desire to enter into complete nudity, emptiness and poverty in everything in the world (AMC, 'I, 13, 6/102-103). This passage may seem life-denying, slightly masochistic, to say noth-ing of the impossibility of reaching or doing, if we overlook the crucial phrase at the beginning, which says "Endeavor to be inclined always . " This is the same as saying "Strive," "Try," "Foster the inclination" to develop that "sixth sense" that guides our call to be a true follower of Christ, which implies inevitably to deny ourselves and to take up our cross for his sake. As witnesses to the Gospel, we ought to be ever more proficient in detecting what in us operates on basis of the pride form and what in us gives assent to the Christ form. For did he not choose the "narrow way" that was, by human standards, most diffic.u~lt, harshest, less pleasant? Did he not work so hard to accomplish our salvation that he had nowhere on which to rest his head? Was his agony not unconsoling? Was he not numbered among the least of men? Among the most despised? What did he want except to fulfill the will of the Father? If this is true, and if we want to walk with him, then we too must practice the poverty of spirit by which he emptied himself and became like a slave for our sake. Thus in these counsels, St. John is indicating concretely how we are to accomplish the imitation of Christ. With his help, we can learn to embrace them earnestly and overcome the aversion we may feel toward them. By entering into nothingness, we enter into nothing-butness--for nothing but God will satisfy the heart that loves him. Such a life practiced with order and discretion (for these mortifications are means toward union, not union itself), enable us to live in faithfulness to our unique call to discipleship. What is easiest and what is most difficult depends, of course, on who we "174 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 are. It may be easiest for a research scientist not to spend tedious hours in his laboratory looking for formulas that will benefit human health when he would rather be on the golf course. Hence, what is difficult and done for Christ is to maintain his place in the lab, putting his God-given gifts to work. For another, the most difficult.may be to overcome his shyness and meet colleagues on the golf course, thus tempering his workaholic ten-dency and relaxing so he may be a better servant for the Lord. These decisions are dependent on the appraisal powers of our transcendent mind and will, but behind this appraisal stands the basic counsel, "Endeavor to be inclined always" to imitate Christ and to be ready to do what is most consonant with our call to radical discipleship. This commitment will inevitably lead us through the narrow way of the night of the senses, for we will have to die to the old, unredeemed, fleshy pride form, the "pride of life," as St. John calls it, for this "concupiscence" reigns in the world, as separated from God, and gives rise to all the appe-tites. Toward this pride form, we are to try to act with contempt, speak with contempt, and think with contempt. Nothing short of this radical rejec-tion of pride will ready us for radical discipleship. This contemptuous no is for the sake of a greater yes. We are saying no to formation ignorance, to its remote cause which is the pride form, and to its proximate causes, such as the immersion in vitalism, the escape in functionalism, the evasion of interformative responsibility. In saying no to the pride form, we are taking the first necessary step to combating demonic seduction (the deception that we are in charge of our destiny) and growing strong in Christ for the greater struggle to come in the dark night, where our only guide is faith. These counsels are thus an essential preliminary for formation freedom. For only if we desire nothing can we allow God to give us all. In summary, to mortify "the concupiscence of the flesh" means to ceas~ allowing the vital dimension of the life form to be a substitute for the tran-scendent. It means the end of downward transcendence. To mortify "the concupiscence of the eyes" means to cease allowing the functional dimension to dominate our existence with its penchant for envious competition and ego control. It means the end of horizontal transcendence. And, ultimately, to mortify "the pride of life" means to root out the source of our trouble and to pursue upward transcendence, in which the vital and functional spheres become servants of the ascent to God. Such are St. John's basic instructions for climbing to the summit, "the high state of union." Now perhaps we can understand and absorb with relief his concluding counsels., for if we read them properly, they will tell us to desire nothing in order to allow God to give everything. Thus: The First Stage to Union / 175 To reach satisfaction in all desir~e its possession in nothing. To come to possess all desire the possession of nothing. To arrive at being all desire to be nothing. To come to the knowledge of all desire the knowledge of nothing. To come to the pleasure you have not you must go by a way in which you enjoy not. To come to the knowledge you have not you must go by a way in which you know not. To come to the possession you have not you must go by a way in which you possess not. To come to be what you are not you must go by a way in which you are not. When you turn toward something you cease to cast yourself upon the All. For to go from all to the All you must deny yourself of all in all. And when you come to the possession of the all you must possess it without wanting anything. Because if you desire to have something in all your treasure in God is not purely your all. In this nakedness the spirit finds its quietude and rest. For in coveting nothing nothing raises it up and nothing weighs it down, because it is in the center of its humiliiy. When it covets something in this very desire it is wearied. What St. John is saying in these remarkable verses is that one will reach satisfaction in all, possession of~all, being all one desires, only if one desires nothing but God. One will know much in the knowledge and remembrance that one is no-thing. One is a child of God, emerging from him and returning to him--not an object of one's own pleasure or satisfaction, but his child, with all the dignity that one is afforded thereby. Thus if we want a pleasure higher than any vital stimulation, if we want an understanding greater than any reason can conclude, if we want to possess more than any collection of material or spiritual goods can yield, if we want to be who we most deeply are, then we must follow this narrow way of 176 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 enjoying what we don't know, of understanding One who is incomprehen-sible, of possessing what we can never fully own--for the divine mystery will ~ilways escape our urge to master it. Indeed, to be who we are we must go by this way in which our pride form is not, in which we are increasingly naughted, in which it is noI longer we who live but Christ who lives in us. Every time we turn toward some thing, person, or event as ultimate or absolute, we turn away from the Lord of all. We cease to cast ourselves upon his mercy, forgiveness, love. To go from the all (God's gifts every-where) to the All (God himself), we must deny ourselves of the All (God), that is, the illusion that the All can be found in or contained in all. God is beyond every little idol we try to create. And even when we possess him, we must do so in a letting-be attitude, without wanting anything but him as he reveals himself. Because if we desire to have something, for example, more consolations or signs of his love, then our treasure in God is not purely or wholly in him as our all, but only in his consolations. The more we reflect on this message, the more we discover that only in this nakedness, this emptiness of spirit, can the soul find its rest. In coveting, in desiring, nothing but God's will, one experiences real tranquil-lity. Whether in adversity or prosperity, whether in consolation or desola-tion, nothing raises one up and nothing weighs one down. It is a blessed state to live in the center of one's humility, to walk graciously in the truth of who one is. Coveting something produces the opposite effect: weariness and torment. For nothing can bring to rest our restless soul save union with God--and it is toward this union that St. John fires our love with urgent longings. Book One closes with two short chapters, which really provide a transi-tion to Book Two. The.phrase St. John comments upon points to the main effect of the active night of sense, namely, "Fired w.ith love's urgent long-ings." The result of this initial purgation of the appetites is a more intense enkindling of another love: a better love, the love of God above all else. The motivation for giving up these attachments must be neither fear of punishment nor the presumption of merit but the freedom, based on faith and love, tb choose a higher good. "By finding his satisfaction and strength in this love, a man will have the courage and constancy to deny readily all other appetites" (AMC, I, 14, 2/105). Such love is not static, but dynamic; it is a longing love. Since the sensory appetites are always in a state of "craving," spiritual desires must be fired with other more "urgent longings." Lacking this transcendence,dynamic, the soul will not be able to overcome the yoke of absolutized vital impulses and functional ambi-tions (what St. John calls the "yoke of nature"); nor will one be able to enter the first night of sense, and certainly one will not have the courage The First Stage to Union / 17"/ to live in the darkness of all things--not by rejecting them as such but by denying the desire for them as if they could provide the fulfillment God alone can offer. St. John will deal with these matters more fully in upcoming Books on the active night of the spirit (which will discuss the purification of our spiritual faculties, intellect, memory and will by, respectively, faith, hope, and love). At least to have passed through the night of the mortification of the senses, the night in which the house of self-will is stilled, is itself a "sheer grace." God's grace, his always active love, has released us already from this prison. But because of our fallenness, "flesh" is still subject to the passions and unruly appetites. To be liberated from this bondage in a way that is unimpeded by its enemies (world, flesh and devil) is for the soul an unspeakably wonderful grace. To achieve this liberation to the full, one must, so to speak, leave the Egypt of sensory satisfaction and cross the desert of spiritual deprivation. When the house of willful appe-tites is quieted through the mortification of sensuality, then the soul is free to walk in genuine freedom, enjoying union with the Beloved. It is to this next phase of renunciation for the sake of greater liberation that one must now turn, keeping in mind this saying of St. John's: "If you purify your soul of attachment to and desire for things, you will understand them spiritually. If you deny your appetite for them, you will enjoy their truth, understanding what is certain in them" (Sayings o fLight andLove, 46/671). *All quotations can be found in references by paragraph and page number. Collected ~'orks of St. John of the Cross, translated by Kieran Kavanaugh, O.C.D. and Otilio Rodriguez, O.C.D., ICS Publications, Institute of Carmelite Studies, Washington, D.C. The Eucharist: Heart of Religious Community Susan Wood, S.C.L. Sister Susan Wood teaches theology at Saint Mary College (Leavenworth, Kansas 66048). This article is the fruit of her reflection in anticipation of her community's General Chapter last summer. As she writes, "Paradoxically, what may be most specific sometimes touches what is true universally." The daily celebration of the Eucharist is a focal point of our lives a source of our charity a fount of inspiration in our mission a sign and means of unity and nourishment. Constitution, #23 Today many sisters are asking whether we can continue to say that the Eucharist is a focal point of our lives. Quite simply, some say, for many of us our daily schedules prohibit a daily eucharistic celebration. Others question how the Eucharist can be expressive of unity in a situation where the worshipping community does not know one another. Still others wonder whether we should celebrate Eucharist at all if we find ourselves divided and still in need of reconciliation with one another. They remind us that Jesus said to leave our gift at the altar and be reconciled with our sister and brother before offering our gift. If we inquire further, we discover yet more serious roots of the current questioning of the place of the Eucharist in our religious lives. The Eucharist may appear to be a devotional practice which, while important, is somehow peripheral to other concerns which claim our energies. The real task that 178 The Eucharist: Heart of Community / 179 the question of the place of the Eucharist in our lives sets before us is the identification of what constitutes the center of our common life. Is our service of the poor our focal point? Is our common life? Does the inspiration for our religious adaptation and reform repose in fundamentally non-sacramental realities such as community, authority, Chapter enactments, the Constitution, our apostolates, our charism? Or can we say that our sacramental life is our center, and that all these important, but non-sacramental, aspects of our life are means rather than ends in themselves. That is, they are the means of extending and making concrete and specific the sacramental reality which first defines our life together. These pages cannot solve the problems of conflicting schedules; nor do they pretend to offer a complete theology of the Eucharist. They do propose, however, to examine some connections between the Eucharist and religious community. It is only after we grasp this connection that we will be equipped to address the more concrete questions concerning our daily eucharistic celebration. Religious Life: An Ecclesial Life The basis for the connection between the Eucharist and religious com-munity is, first, the relationship between religious life and the Church and, second, the close association between the sacraments of baptism and Eucharist. The first presupposition is that religious life is fundamentally ecclesial. More than simply a manner of living within the Church, religious life is directly oriented to the Church. This is evident within our own tradition when we recall St. Vincent de Paul's description of the Daughters of Charity as "daughters of the Church." The ecclesial character of religious consecra-tion is further evident in its sacramental foundation, baptism. In baptism we are incorporated into the body of Christ and his Church and our religious life is an attempt to live out the implications of our baptism, and thus this incorporation, in a radical way. As a radical living out of the baptismal commitment, religious life is equally a living out of our identity as ecclesial women. This theology appears in our Constitution where we state: As Christians united personally by baptism to Jesus Christ and to his body, the Church, the Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth . . . are women who view baptism as the most significant event in our lives and who have responded freely to the Divine call to express this consecration more fully by profession of the evangelical counsels of poverty, chastity and obedience lived in apostolic and communal love (Constitution, n. 3). The decree of the Second Vatican Council, Perfectae Caritatis, refers Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 to this ecclesial~orientation when it urges religious to "more and more live and think with the Church," and "dedicate themselves wholeheartedly to its mission (n. 6).'.' If our unity as a Church is the unity in the Spirit of the body of Christ, and if our identity as religious women is inseparable from 0u¢ identity as ecclesial women, then it follows that the source of our unity is radically identical with that of the Church. In other words, our unity is baptismal and eucharistic. From this close association between religious and ecclesial life, it follows that the relationship between the Eucharist and religious community will be analogous to that between the Eucharist and the Church. The Unity of Baptism and Eucharist The second theological presupposition is that baptism and Eucharist are intrinsically related. Consequently, if religious life is a radical living of the baptismal commitment, it is no less a eucharistically centered life. The Eucharist is not simply that which we receive when we come together as the Church. Nor is it primarily a celebration of who we are as a believing community. The Church does not exist prior to the Eucharist, but is formed and created by it. This may appear at first as paradoxical, for in a sense a minister and community are necessary for the celebration of the sacrament. One may also object that the Christian community is formed by baptism rather than the Eucharist. This, however, ~eparates the sacraments of initia-tion when they should instead be seen as a unity. Baptism is indeed incorpora-tion into the Church, but the culmination or fulfillment of the sacraments of initiation, and thus baptism, is the Eucharist. Initiation into the Church is incomplete without the reception of the Eucharist which is incorporation into the historical body of Christ sacramentally present in our world. This is evident in the rite of initiation in the Eastern Church where baptism, confir-mation and Eucharist are conferred within the same ceremony. Baptism and the Eucharist.are closely associated, first, because both are intrinsically related to Christ's Paschal Mystery. In the Eucharist we proclaim the death of the Lord until he comes (1 Co 11: 26). In the eucharistic sacrifice the victory and triumph of Christ are again made present (Sacrosanctum Concilium, I. 6). In baptism we are plunged into the Paschal Mystery of Christ, die with him to sin, are buried with him, and rise with him to a new life in Christ (Rm 6:4; Ep 2:6; Col 3:1; 2 Tm 2:11). Second, both baptism and the Eucharist are means of incorporation into the body of Christ. The text of 1 Co 12:12-13 makes this clear regarding baptism: Just as a human body, tho.ugh it is made up of many parts, is a single unit because all these parts, though many, make one body, so it is with Christ. The Eucharist: Heart of Community In the one Spirit we were all baptized, Jews as well as Greeks, slaves as well as citizens, and one Spirit was given to us all to drink. It is precisely as members of Christ's body that we share in his death and resurrection through baptism (Rm 6: 3-4). The Eucharist is a further means of participation in the body of Christ as is evident in 1 Co 10: 16-17: The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not a participation in the blood of Christ? The bread which we break, is it not a participation in the body of Christ? Because there is one bread, we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the one bread. In the final analysis, therefore, we are incorporated in Christ by both baptism and the Eucharist, the principal reason why they are both considered sacraments of initiation. Initiation into the Church differs from initiation into human societies precisely because it is sacramental. This means not only that through the sign of the sacrament we are initiated into membership in the body of Christ, but that this union with Christ is really achieved now, and is itself a sign of the final eschatological union that all the blessed will share with Christ and with one another. The Eucharist is causative of the Church because the unity of the Church is not that of an aggregate of individuals, a collectivity which exists prior to or independently of Christ, but the unity of a body. In the Eucharist we are nourished by the body and blood of Jesus Christ, and, being vivified by that body, we become one. Consequently, the unity of the Church does not exist metaphysically prior to or apart from its union with and incorporation in Christ. To grasp this profound interconnection between the Church and the Eucharist requires that we think sacramentally rather than according to the categories of human societies and organizations. The temptation throughout history has been to pattern the Church according to the models of society current at the time--in our day the democratic model. The Mystery in which we are invited to participate transcends merely human structures. An example of the shift required in our perception is that while that which we eat is normally transformed into our own flesh and blood, in the sacrament we. are assimilated to Christ, not he to us. The unity of the Church is not a moral unit~, sustained by the good will and cooperation of those consenting to be united, but rather is the unity created on the initiative of Christ who offers us the New Covenant. The Ecclesial Dimension of the Eucharist We believe that sacraments are efficacious signs of God's grace. Therefore we believe that what is signed by the sacrament achieves its effect in us both Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 individually and communally. The sign of the Eucharist is our partaking of Christ's body, efficaciously signified by the bread and wine. Sacramental realism assures us that that which is both signed and effected is our union with Christ, and, as 1 Co 10 indicates~ our union with one another. In tradi-tional eucharistic theology this effect of the Eucharist has been- called the res tantum, and is none other than the unity of the ecclesial body, the Church. This unity is the union of the members with their head, Christ. Since the middle of the twelfth century, largely in response to the eucharistic controversy involving Berengarius, eucharistic theology has fre-quently concentrated on eucharistic realism. Great care has been exerted to emphasize the fact that Christ is really and truly present in the Eucharist. While this truth is of incomparabl~ worth within eucharistic theology, the care to correct a heretical eucharistic theology led to the neglect of the ecciesial dimension of the sacrament. A eucharistic piety that focuses too narrowly and exclusively on the real presence often misses the ecclesial signification of the sacrament, as well as its context within salvation history. The Eucharist in addition to and precisely because it is the sacramental presence of Christ within history is anamesis (remembrance) as well as antici-pation. As remembrance it is the representation of the sacrifice of Christ as well as the fulfillment of the typological prefigurations of Christ's sacrifice in the Old Testament. As anticipation it looks ahead to the final eschato-logical union of all the blessed with Christ at the end time. The final union of the members of Christ with their head is what St. Augustine called the "whole Christ." Thus the Eucharist is an instance of what theologians call "realized eschatology." That is, that which will be complete at the end time eschatologically is already present in a real, but incomplete form. We are really united with Christ now in the present time, but this union prefigures a complete union for which we work, pray, and wait. In a similar manner, we are really sacramentally united with one another, but our unity is still imperfect. Concrete Consequences of a Eucharistic Ecclesiology Once this is seen, certain corollaries become evident. First, the referent of the sacrament, that is, that which it signs, is both the Christ who died, rose and ascended to the Father as well as the eschatological union of all the blessed with Christ. Thus the sacrament effects this union in the present, but its ultimate referent transcends the present as it anticipates this final union. This means that the primary referent of the Eucharist is not the immanent worshipping community or exclusively the presence of the Christ within the community. The Eucharist is not a celebration of unity achieved apart from our union with Christ and prior.to the Eucharist, but effects The Eucharist: Heart of Community / 183 and anticipates that for which we hope as Christians--final, irrevocable union in Christ. This means that we do not wait until we experience perfect union before we approach the Eucharist. If a community stands in need of reconcilia-tion, it should indeed work so that it is in fact what it proclaims itself to be in word, namely, Christian community. However, just as we do not save ourselves but ask for salvific grace, so our reconciliation is not entirely our work but something worked within us by the grace of God with our cooper-ation. The Eucharist is not only a sign of unity, but effects unity and recon-ciliation; Secondly, the community which gathers for eucharistic worship is not required to be an intimate, homogeneous group. The universality of the kingdom of God, the body of Christ, indicates that those ecclesial communities which most accurately reflect the universal vocation to union with God may be the most diverse of groups, often anonymous, where faith in our common vocation transcends the diversity of races, nations and walks of life. This does not me.an that we should not work for a more ideal realization of como munity but rather that such an ideal should not become a prior condition of eucharistic worship. Third, although in the Eucharist we receive the sacramental presence of Christ, the primary focus of the sacrament is communal rather than indi-vidual. We approach the Eucharist as a Christian community who celebrates the great things the Lord has done for us in his life, death and rising. The Eucharist as anamesis, that is, remembrance, sacramental presence and pledge of our. future hope, reminds us that we are a people in the midst of the history of God's salvific plan for us. This communal and historical focus of the sacrament is the primary reason why communion services can never be an adequate substitute for the celebration of the Eucharist. These services, even under the best of circumstances, emphasize the individual's reception of the sacramental presence of Christ rather than the community's immersion in salvation history with its celebration of a past event sacramentally present, itself a sign of a future reality. The Eucharist is properly word and sacra, ment, the sacrament representing more than the presence of Christ's body and blood. It is also the presence of that sacrifice which renders that body and blood efficacious for our salvation. Objective vs. Subjective Meaning of the Eucharist One of the problems today is that we may~be confusing "meaning" with "meaningfulness." The first is an objective category while the second is s~ubjective. When we experience the liturgy as dull and lifeless, apparently divorced from the rest of our lives, we are tempted to say that it has "lost Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 meaning" for us. In this instance what we really mean is that it has ceased to be meaningful. The Eucharist obviously has not lost its objective meaning as the sacramental presence of Christ within human history, as the Christian community's remembrance and representation of Christ's salvific death and rising, as an efficacious sign of our future union in Christ. Our experience, therefore, is more of a statement about ourselves than about the objective meaning of what takes place at our eucharistic liturgy. It is a statement 6f our inability to consciously live and celebrate what we believe, of the incongruity between our life as a Christian community and what the Eucharist calls us to be as a community. Indeed, we may experience fragmentation, boredom and disunion but this experience is a call to recon-ciliation, a call to approach the altar once again so that that which we cele-brate liturgically may be integral with the whole of our life, a call to pray for a more lively faith. It is likewise a call to contribute our best efforts so that our liturgical prayer, through sign and symbol, awakens, fortifies and expresses our faith. Even though it is a mistake to confuse meaning with meaningfulness, we are not excused from the efforts necessary for good liturgical celebration, including personal prayer and reading of Scripture as well as the more proxi-mate preparations of celebrants, musicians and artists. Sacraments are signs, and signs are of their nature human, subject to expressing more or less adequately what they signify. The liturgical renewal enjoined by Vatican II calls for a more active participation on the part of the faithful so that the liturgy can be the "outstanding means by which the faithful can express ~n their love, and manifest to others, the mystery of Christ and the real nature of the true Church" (Sacrosanctum Concilium, n. 2). Within eucharistic theology there exists an objective and subjective di-mension of the sacrament. Traditionally this has been referred to as the opus operatum, the work effected by Christ, and the opus operantis. This latter term originally referred to the disposition of the celebrant. The dis-tinction between the two terms explained how a Mass celebrated by a priest in a state of serious sin was still valid although not spiritually fruitful for him. Recent writers have extended the meaning of opus operantis to refer to the cooperation with and active reception of grace by the believer. In the opus operatum, the objective element of the sacrament, we are assured that Christ is really present. In the second, the subjective element, we receive grace, and the sacrament is "fruitful" with our growth in faith, hope and charity. The question of meaning vs. meaningfulness can, in part, be expressed as the relation between the objective reality of the sacrament, the opus oper-atum, and the subjective disposition of the recipient, the opus operantisl The Eucharist: Heart of Community Our sacramental celebrations may appear arid when the ecclesial reality of the sacrament does not find expression in a renewed commitment to Christ and his Church. Some writers, including Karl Rahner, discuss the frequency of eucharistic celebration with reference to the opus operantis, saying that this frequency should be governed by the conditions which make it possible for us to receive the sacrament fruitfully, with conscious faith and the psychic energy necessary to enter subjectively into that which we celebrate objectively. Two extremes are to be avoided. First, within the context of the communal character of the Eucharist, it is obvious that it is not question of increasing grace by multiplying the number of eucharistic celebr.ations one attends. This not only emphasizes the individual rather than the com-munal nature of the Eucharist, but it also quantifies grace, distorting its primarily relational character. However, it is equally a mistake to expect each 0"f our eucharistic celebrations to be a peak religious experience. An excessive emphasis on our preparation and readiness for the Eucharist makes it our work rather than God's gift and action on. us. In the Eucharist we are invited once again to enter into the New Covenant. Within the vicissitudes of our life we need to be invited to this oft~en, perhaps even daily. The Lord's Prayer provides,us with the model for the dailiness of our eucharistic celebration for when we ask for our daily bread, this is no less than the Bread of Life. However, this emphasis on the ideal of a daily celebration need be neither slavish nor mechanistic. The essential is to realize that the Eucharist is truly the sacramental focal point of our reli-gious life together. Once this is realized and lived, the frequency of our eucharistic celebration will not be so much a question of legislation as that which is truly possible within our individual circumstances and the expression of who we are as ecclesial women. The relationship between Eucharist and religious community is parallel to the relationship between the Church and the Eucharist. Within ecclesiology today there are many theologies competing with a eucharistic ecclesiology. The search for relevance and liberation has prompted dialogue on what con-stitutes salvatio.n, whether it represents liberation from oppressive societal structures and/or whether it is more properly a release from the bondage of sin. Much of what is good within this discussion represents a healthy correction of the excessive individualism which has plagued us since the Enlightenment. An excessive emphasis on intra-worldly goals of this liberation is now being cort~ected within a broader vision of the drama of sin and grace in the world. That these same tensions are reflected in religious life is no accident since religious life is fundamentally ecclesial. In many ways a religious commu-nity is a microcosm of the larger Church. Within this perspective it is not "186 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 sufficient that we pray together, serve the poor and live a common life, We can do all these things without being a religious community. Although our charism is to serve the poor, our primary identity is not that of the social worker. Furthermore, there are times when the non-sacramental aspects of our life lead us away from our true identity as a religious community. For instance, we may become excessively work-orierited. While work for the kingdom is praiseworthy, a certain attitude distorts our work so that it becomes something which we undertake, initiate. Our events replace the Christ event. Communal efforts become our action rather than God's action on us, and the Eucharist becbmes a devotional practice rather than the most fundamental expression of the reality of our lives. The Eucharist is the heart of religious community because it is the histor-ical presence of the New Covenant which unites that community with its Lord. Our primary identity is to be a eucharistic community in union with Christ. Our service of others then flows as a consequence of what the Eucharist means--as a response of thankfulness for what the Lord has done for us, as the service modeled by. Christ at the Last Supper, as a means of facilitating the union of all in Christ. It is then that we can truly say that the Eucharist is the focal point of our lives. Good Friday, April 1, 1983 Gently running, delicate raindrops--spring rain as tears from the windows of my soul. The clear-paned pain allows me to glimpse the promise of life within the dry earth, within myself. Suffering and tears stir tender blossoms deep inside. They struggle to break through the crusty-hard shell, to lift themselves to the long-promised warmth of the loving Son. Sister Mary Therese Macys, S.S.C. 2601 W. Marquette Road Chicago, Illinois 60629 Learning from the Worldly Leo D. Davis, S.J. Father Davis, a member of the Jesuits' Oregon Province, presently resides in Italy, where he may be addressed: Via Spaventa, 4; 50129 Firenze,: Italy. "For the worldly are more astute than the other worldly in dealing with their own kind" (Lk 16:8). Desperate for American reading material while in a foreign country, ] dipped recently into one of the national best sellers of a few years .back, Peters and Waterman's In Search of Excellence: Lessons from America's Best-Run Companies (New York: Warner °Books, 1982). Though not ordi-narily a reader of business literature, I found the book absorbing, not as a study of American business success, but as an indication of why many religious institutes, including my own, fail specifically as organizations to reach their goals. Of course, we religious are not primarily in business: auxiliary to our main purposes we do run businesses. These auxiliary enter-prises, however, are not my concern in this article. Rather, I'm interested in how we organize and conduct ~urselves in spreading the Word of God and serving our neighbor. Can we learn from successful business con-cerns how to do this better? I I~ave it to the readers themselves to judge after considering Peters and Waterman's findings. The two studied sixty-two corporations in the fields of high tech-nology, consumer goods, services, industrial supplies, management and resources. They wanted to discover just what makes these firms leaders in their fields. They found that all agree on an eight point philosophy in doing business. Contr'~ry to what one might expect from business men out to make a 187 11~8 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 buck, the authors argue that hardheaded rationality is not enough to suc-ceed. International Telephone and Telegraph, for example, was managed in a rigidly national fashion, and failed. The war in Vietnam was largely run from the Pentagon by Robert McNamara's Ford Company technical "whiz kids," and we all know the outcome. Mere technique however sophisticated, won't do the trick. Planning, long and short range, is needed, but planning can often become an end in itself. Of three hundred twenty-five planning task forces studied, none had yet finished its task after three years of work. Task forces, the authors suggest, should be small, limited in time, volun-tary, and contain some senior staff. Their work should call for no addi-tional staff and produce a minimum of documentation. Follow-up on their recommendations should be swift. Paper shuffling among executives and back and forth between executives and managers can stifle all action. Analysis can lead to . paralysis. Gamesmanship and contention in committees replace action. As one executive commented, it is easier to develop a negative argument f~r doing nothing than to advance a constructive one which issues in action. The authors argue that major concerns should be dealt with one at a time. More than two objectives for a task force mean no objectives at all. There should be constant communication, constant keeping in touch with the realities and persons involved in decisions. Communications should be short and clear; the authors cite the famous practice of Procter and Gamble in restricting all memoranda to a single page. Chaotic action is preferable to no action at all. Experimentation and testing ideas in prac-tice is better than just talking about problems. Get people acting and they solve their problems, and come to believe in what they're doing. Close to the Customer As religious, we're not, as such, selling goods to customers, but we are dealing with people. What are the needs, tastes, preferences of those with whom we deal? Are we willing to put ourselves out for others? The successful companies know their clientele and go to great lengths to serve them. Thomas Watson of International Business Machines had a simple philosophy: We want to give the best customer service of any company in the world. He guaranteed answering any customer complaint in twenty-four hours. Caterpillar Tractors guarantees forty-eight hour service to any country of the world. Frito-Lay aims at a 99.5 percent rate of service in peddling their products; they will spend several hundred dollars to restock a remote store with thirty dollars worth of potato chips. But their reputa-tion for reliability in the end outweighs the short term costs. I'm reminded Learning from the Worldly of an old priest colleague of mine who was preaching to the coffee room audience on service; when a telephone call interrupted him, he told the caller to see him during office hours--and continued his harangue with no sense of incongruity. The Disney people realize what service means; sixteen-year old ticket takers at Disneyland are put through four eight-hour days of training just so they can take tickets with the Disney elan. McDonald's scores of billions of hamburgers are sold by insistence on cleanliness, efficient ser-vice, uniform quality and reliability. Burgers not sold ten minutes after cooking are thrown out; french fries, after seven minutes; and their cashiers are taught to have eye contact with the customers. The authors give an example of the extraordinary lengths to which some companies will go. When a woman complained about a foul-up with a discount air ticket, she wrote to the president of Delta Airlines. The president of the corporation himself met her at the airport and per-sonally presented her with a new ticket. All these companies stress quality. McDonald's, with seven thousand restaurants doing 2.5 billion dollars worth of business annually, tell their stockholders: Quality is the first word in McDonald's motto. Digital Com-puter's philosophy states: "Growth is not our principal goal. Our goal is to be a quality organization and'do a quality job, which means that we will be proud of our work and products for years to come. As we achieve quality, growth will come as a result." There's food for thought here for religious experiencing a decline in vocations. The lonely Maytag serviceman of the TV ads is a symbol of the company's guarantee of ten years' trouble-free operation of any machine. Hewlett-Packard is obsessed with quality; ask them about personnel, they talk quality; ask about sales, they talk quality; ask about management, they talk quality. The president of Heineken Beer says bluntly, "I consider a bad bottle of Heineken a personal insult to me." Until recently, the eighty-two-year-old founder of Marriott Hotels read every complaint card personally. Productivity Through People All members of an organization should be made aware that their best efforts are essential to success and that they will share in that success. Here again we religious in the ranks are not mere employees in the ministries of our institutes. In fact, many times we might be better off in some of America's best companies than at the hands of some religious superiors. One executive complained to the authors: People issues take up all my time. To them he was really saying that his business would be easy to run if it weren't for people. But corporations, like religious institutes, 190 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 are people. Those who work in them should be treated as adults and as partners, with dignity and respect. This doesn't mean that they be mollycoddled; they should be given reasonable and clear expectations, and practical autonomy to get the job done. In a study of school teachers, the authors point out it was found that when they held high expectations of their students, that alone was enough to cause an increase of twenty-five points in the students' IQ scores. Workers should understand what is being done and why. Peters and Waterman quote Admiral Zumwalt's method of reorganizing Navy prac-tices: What I tried hardest to do was ensure that every officer and sailor on the ship not only knew what we were about, not only why we were doing each tactical operation, however onerous, but also managed to understand enough about how it all fitted together so that they began to experience some of the fun and challenge that those of us in the top slot were having. 1 knew from experience the impact of treating sailors like the mature adults they were. Dedicated religious women and men deserve no less. Communication between superiors and ranks cannot be mere lip ser-vice, mere gimmicks, but must be a sincere effort to make all really part of the team. Sam Walton has built a company from eighteen to three hun-dred thirty stores, with sales rising from forty-five million dollars, to 1.6 billion dollars and the process made his family the richest in the United States. He always calls his employees "associates." "The key is to get out and hear what the associates have to say," he states. "It's terribly important for everyone to get involved." For him this is not lip service: one sleepless night he went down to the loading dock with four dozen donuts and talked to his "associates." He learned that they needed two more shower stalls in the wash room--and they got them. This is a sur-prising degree of concern in an executive running a 1.6 billion dollar com-pany. Again, when Thomas Watson first took over IBM, he was not out to shake up the company by wholesale transfers and firings, but to buff and polish those already in place so their performance would improve; his bone-deep belief, says his son, was respect for the individual. Peters and Waterman suggest some simple rules iia the treatment of workers: all important communication should be face to face; there should be opportunity for career education; there should be security in their posi-tions. Superiors should be accessible to all, their doors always open. Finally, there should be incentives. "A man wouldn't sell his life to Learning from the Worldly you, but he would give it to you for a piece of colored ribbon," says a war correspondent about soldiers in World War lI. The best corporations go to extraordinary lengths to reward good performance, creating oppor-tunities for showering pens, badges, buttons and medals on their people. At Mars Candy everyone on time for work during the week gets a ten percent bonus; IBM has a "gold circle" for top salespersons; Tupperware senior management spend thirty days a year at "jubilees" for outstanding performers; one company even puts gold stars on a public bulletin board after the names of those who don't miss work. Religious might well feel out of place in an atmosphere like this. Indeed, our vocation is not to look for rewards but to dedicate ourselves to the selfless service of God and neighbor. But superiors, on their side, should be aware of the value of incentives; nothing is more powerful than positive reinforcement. This, the authors advise, should be specific, tan-gible and frequent. They point to a model of motivation in a Procter and Gamble executive who, red in the face and vehement, told a Stanford University seminar: "Just because the product is toilet paper doesn't mean that Procter and Gamble doesn't make it a damn sight better than anyone else." The executive, he continues, is called to help fulfill the individ-ual's search to transcend himself or herself, to avoid isolation and the fear of helplessness, to give people a sense of being, in control of their des-tiny. High performance is based on intrinsic motivations: people must believe that a task is inherently worthwhile if they are to be committed to it. All this to sell toilet paper! Hands On, Value Driven Management The authors insist that the successful executive keeps in close touch not only with personnel but with the firm's essential business. Again Thomas Watson of IBM: "I believe the real difference between success and failure in a corporation can very often be traced to the question of how well the organization brings out the great energies and talents of its people . I firmly believe that any organization, in order to survive and achieve success, must have a sound set of beliefs on which it premises all its policies and actions. Next, I believe that the most important single factor in corporate success is faithful adherence to those beliefs. And, finally, I believe if an organization is to meet the challenge of a changing world, it must be prepared to change everything about itself except those beliefs . " The institutional leader is primarily an expert in the promotion and protection of values. The basic values: a belief in being the best; in the "" "109 / Review for Reiigious, March-April, 1987 importance of the details of execution; in the importance of people as indi-viduals; in superior quality and service; in supporting innovation and tolerating failure. The effective leader must be a master of two ends of the spectrum--ideas at the highest level and actions at the most mundane levels of detail. The top performers create a broad, uplifting, shared: cul-ture, a coherent framework within which charged up people search for appropriate adaptations. The real leader does' not force others to submit and follow him by the sheer overwhelming magic of his personality. He is influential in inspiring and strengthening them; he arouses confidence. Success in instilling values appears to have little to do with charismatic personality. Rather it derives from obvious, sincere, sustained personal commitment to the values the leader seeks to implant, coupled with extraordinary persistence in reinforcing these values. Hewlett- Packard advises its executives to wander around, being approachable, accessible, listening, keeping people informed. Others advise: don't summon people to your office; go see them. Kill grimness with laughter; maintain an atmosphere of informality; encourage exuberance. Without such hands on management, it seems nothing much happens. Stick to the Knitting By this Peters and Waterman mean, "Remain with the business you know best." Organizations that do branch out but stick close to their orig-inal purpose outperform others. Successful companies enter only those businesses that build on, draw strength from, and enlarge some central area of competence. ITT began as an international telephone company, but the tools that it took to run a phone company in Chile didn't help much in the management of newly acquired Continental Baking and Sheraton Hotels. The result was that ITT had to sell off thirty-three busi-nesses. The lesson is never acquire a business you don't know how to run. Minnesota Mining and Manufacturing, makers of Scotch tape, make fifty thousand other products and introduce one hundred new ones each year, but all is built around its central coating-and~bonding technology. Procter and Gamble is good at soap, but Pringles' potato chips, machined to uniform size in a neat box, is an apparent failure from the standpoint of consumer taste. Simple.Form, Lean Staff The authors are passionate advocates of clear, simple structural organization so that everyone knows to which boss to report. Some staff gain power by keeping everything vague and unclear. Outlaws can use the lack of clarity to their own advantage and to the detriment of the whole. Learning from the Worldly / 193 With simple organization, fewer staff are needed at headquarters to make things work. Emerson Electric, with fifty-four thousand personnel, has one hundred in corporate headquarters; Dava Industries, with thirty-five thousand, has one hundred; Schlumberger, an oil service company with six billion dollars worth of business annually, has ninety cprporate staff. The Society of Jesus in its headquarters in Rome has ninety-five on the corporate staff for only 25,500 personnel. The story goes around Jesuit circles that at one time our largest province had more departmental provincials than first year novices. "Less is more" in corporate manage-hment, say Peters and Waterman. Simultaneous Loose-Tight Properties By this the authors mean fostering a climate in which there is dedica-tion to the central values of the company combined with tolerance for all employees who accept these values. The central values must be carefully fostered and protected, yet autonomy, entrepreneurship and innovation should flourish among the rank and file. The discipline of shared values provides the framework for all the rest. It gives people confidence to exper-iment stemming from stable expectations of what really counts. Too much overbearing discipline kills autonomy but the discipline of shared values encourages innovation. Rules should reinforce positive traits and not just discourage negative ones. The company should offer meaning, provide guiding belief, create a sense of excitement, a sense of being part of the best, a sense of producing something of quality that is valued. Basic .values should be set in concrete, and executed by attention to mundane, nitty-gritty details. Every hour, everyday is an opportunity to act in sup-port of overarching themes. A lively sense of realism enforces tight disci-pline; the attention to the desires and needs of the clientele is the most stringent means of self-discipline. Autonomy and Entrepreneurship Tight discipline and preservation of basic values should not interfere with a stress on innovation, and a tolerance of failure for those who fail in the pursuit of innovation. Some companies support "skunk works" where the talented mavericks of the business brainstorm and experiment. All of this must be coupled with constant communication and the dogged persistence of innovators to put their ideas across. Interestingly enough, physical proximity is vital in this communica-tion. The authors point out that people working thirty feet apart meet each other only eight to nine percent of the time, while those working only fif-teen feet apart meet twenty-five percent of the time. They maintain that 194 / Roview for Religious, March-April, 1987 the best companies do their work in large, self-contained, campus-like headquarters outside the city. What does all this add up to? What I've tried to say in a modern idiom and detail drawn from actual studies is only what St. Paul told his Corinthians: "You know (do you not?) that at sports all the runners run the race, though only one wins the prize. Like them, run to win! But every athlete goes into strict training. They do it to win a fading wreath; we, a wreath that never fades" (1 Co 9:24-25). The "Active-Contemplative" Problem in Religious Life by David M. Knight Price: $.75 per copy, plus postage. Add ress: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Modern Media and the Religious Sense of Community Matthias Neuman, O.S.B. Father Neuman is well known to our readers. His last article in these pages was entitled "Personality and Religious Adjustments in Older Candidates" (May/June, 1986). Father Neuman continues to teach at St. Meinrad Seminary; St.Meinrad, Indiana 47577. Back in the sixth century St. Benedict, in his Rule, included a short chap-ter on "The Proper Amount of Drink." To modem ears some of its sug-gestions may seem mildly humorous, yet in context a radical practicality pervades the .thought of this monastic genius. We read that monks should not drink wine at all, but since the monks of our day cannot be convinced of this, let us at least agree to drink mod-erately and not to the point of excess, for wine makes even the ffise to go astray.' Were this same St. Benedict composing a rule for a religious order of the late twentieth century it is quite likely he would feel the need to insert a chapter on "The Proper Amount of Watching Television" with similar suggestions and pleas .for moderation. For few would be the reli-gious men and women today who would agree that they should avoid all television. This article treats some of the background issues which would lead to that hypothetical modern chapter on the proper amount of television. Actually the topic goes far beyond television to include all manner of modem electronic media: radio, stereo systems, cassette players, tele-phones, VCRs and, most recently, computers (can spiritual video games be far behind'?). What religious house is there that has not felt the inva- 195 Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 sion of this technology? What communities today do not admit into for-mation programs young people shaped by a high-intensity media culture? The electronic media have, for better or worse, become part of the ethos of life in twentieth-century America. My basic premise suggests that the presence of these media has influ-enced the communal shape of religious community life far more drastically than we may initially surmise. Surely the use of such media affect common schedules (viewing a late "Special" on some current event) and budgets ("Our office must have a computer!"). Beyond these surface impacts the involvement with media slowly but surely has shifted our very sense of what community means and how we associate as social persons. To media theorists one of the major human effects of all cultural media, and particularly electronic media, is to create a very specific and delimited realization of "being together," a style of how people gather and interact.'- For example, television gathers people physically, but focuses their communal attention outwardly and away from the people around them. Relentlessly sustained participation in such media experi-ences will alter slowly the way one interacts and responds in all situa-tions. Television creates an instant community which passively watches. As an interesting sidelight, when television first began to be widely commercial in the 1950s the leading American theorist on communica-tions flatly predicted that it would never be a success because "people would have to sit in a dark room and ignore each other." One might wonder how far that attitude has affected our religious sense of com-munity? Other entertainment media besides television reinforce this psy-chological separation or distancing from one's immediate surroundings and relationships. Cassettes and stereos supply individual, isolated encoun-ters with music and detached thoughts. Now with portable stereo and ear-phones we can eat, recreate, shop or work, and clearly advertise that we wish no personal contact with anyone immediately around us. The tele-phone brings instant contact over worldwide distances; we start to belong to a global network embracing an incredibly wide range of personal connections. Without our being that aware, these daily immersions into media experience adjust our expectations of personal relationships. In par-ticular they change the way we are involved with the people immediately around us. The previous issue is a critical one for vowed religious who have a spiritual stake in the meaning and practice of community life. According to the Church's law, participation in community is essential for one to be considered a religious by the Church;3 in contemporary theology the for- Modern Media and Community mation of authentic community is praised as a preeminent goal of Chris-tian life and ministry; and in many modern forms of spirituality the very notion of community inclines toward the realizing of the Trinitarian mys-tery of God.4 But with the arrival of the electronic community we had better stop and take a careful look at what precise actions are implied in the linguistic usage of "community jargon." Under the surface we may find a clash of world views taking place, a clash that undermines real com-munity, an undermining that gnaws away in the midst of people busily doing their daily work, living their lives, and talking incessantly about community as an important aspect of their lives. A brief comparison of these contrasting world views of community might focus our reflections. The ancient notion of "religious" com-munity, as traditionally used of the Church as a whole or of particular vowed communities, rested on a conviction of human solidarity borrowed from the goals, structures and attitudes of a close-knit, agrarian, craft-based or familial society. Community here meant the composite of ways that people lived, worked, prayed and played together. The goal of such sustained daily interaction was communal solidarity, mutual commitment, the sharing of hopes and values in a communality of life. The structures which embedded those goals aimed at a slow, patient, day-by-day, elbow-by- elbow building up of emotional bonds and support systems. Just as one learned to love in familially-arranged marriages, so one learned to be a member of a vowed community by the shaping of common intentions formed through daily work and prayer. These community goals and struc-tures depended on social routines of living that stressed the physical prox-imity and sharing of participants over the long haul of life. This religious vision of community was a prize to be won through sustained work and prayer. The concluding words of the Prologue to the Rule of St. Benedict exemplify perfectly this ancient vision: Therefore we intend to establish a school for the Lord's service. In draw-ing up its regu!ations, we hope to set down nothing harsh, nothing bur-densome. The good of all concerned, however, may prompt us to a little strictness in order to amend faults and to s~ifeguard love. Do not be daunted immed!.ately by fear and run away from the road that leads to salvation. It is bound to be narrow at the outset. But as we progress in this way of life and in faith, we shall run on the path of God's commandments, our hearts overflowing with the inexpressible delight of love. Never swerving from his instructions, then, but faithfully observ-ing his teaching in the monastery until death, we shall through patience share in the sufferings of Christ that we may deserve also to share in his kingdom.5 1911 Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 How divergent appears the community of the electronic mindset! It presents instantaneous intentions drawn from anywhere in the world, and on any topic, from far bey6nd the gathered viewers, and its heightened visual intensity etches those intentions into the awareness of participants. Electronic media joins the viewers automatically to a national and world community. The communal intentions that bind us here are all given by what the media chooses to focus on and present. The solidarity of the elec-tronic community does not flow from a patient and lengthy building up of common intentions, but,from the impulsive response to instantaneously given themes. It is a fragile solidarity indeed. Its communality depends on intensity to maintain interest. (So it must deal with a topic ever more heatedly-~or find a new topic.) And media are powerfully effective! By themselves the media constitute a very real and engaging psychological support system. Any individual can retire to the privacy of his or. her room and by means of TV, radio or stereo be in touch with any particular psychological input (to soothe, to excite, to reinforce love, to wal,low in nostalgia). It is a support system that dispenses with flesh and blood people. It is instant electronic community, and is radically different from the older notion of religious community founded on agrarian, craft and familial social patterns. This latter style has been the traditional founda-tion of vowed religious community life in the Church, but it is being increasingly challenged by the newer media style. The critical point I wish to raise is this: if religi6us communities of today believe they can continue to stress and intend the older form of com-munity while allowing the ever-spreading presence and use of electronic media, they are sadly deceiving themselves. Houses in which many indi-viduals hold active ministerial positions in the Church and society must face the challenge more acutely; these people need bolstering in stronger doses. Their increased emotional drain begs for a multitude of psy-chological supports. Make no mistake! Electronic media constitute a pow-erful psychological support system, and by themselves they can under-mine the traditional ethos of familial religious community. The inherent reason that electronic media form such a strong psy-chological buttress lies in their ability to alter the fundamental shape of our sense perceiving. Lengthy exposure to media causes differences in the balancing of sight, hearing, touch and balance. Marshall McLuhan, the great pioneer of media theory, noted that electronic media create an instant sensorium, synthesizing sight, sound and touch simultaneously.~ The music video (MTV) is a perfect example of instantaneous multiple sensual involvement. Through this complex sensory input the perceiver's emotions "heat up" quickly; they can attain an intense level of inner Modern Media and Community involvement, and even psychologically remove the perceiver from the pressures of the present. If I happen to be dealing with some specific vexing problem and my feelings are.tired or conflictive, how smoothly a change comes from flipping on the TV or putting a favorite record on the stereo. These media generate an instant, sensual response and become a psychological support system in themselves. Many aspects of the traditional style of community life have already been affected by the intrusion of media into the daily life of religious houses. The structure and frequency of common recreation has altered sig-nificantly. I've heard many individuals either lament or factually describe the practical disappearance of large community-recreation sessions, the evening walks of many people, the diminishment of common reading rooms. In their place have appeared public television rooms, usually more than one to accommodate smokers and non-smokers (for men's houses) or Dan Rather or Tom Brokaw fans (for women's houses). In some communities the time of the evening news program has influenced the daily schedule of meals arid prayer, although the more recent advent of the video cassette has eliminated this temporary problem. The electronic media have subtly altered what people look for in rec-reation itself, that is, what we expect from and put into a period of recre-ation. In the older familial style, recreation was in part a kind of work, an effort to get to know the individuals of the community and to construct these common intentions that make a group into a true communitas. Russell Baker in his delightful autobiography, Growing Up, reminisced about his childhood evenings when the whole family would sit around the kitchen table for three hours or more, each working at some game, hobby or menial task and conversing about different aspects of their day and inter-ests. Such a scenario would be practically impossible for someone raised in today's media world; it would be the ultimate "bore." Although it is so much easier to watch television, maybe recreation for both families and religious communities needs to recapture some aspects of work and effort. Perhaps it's a modern area of life that demands a practi~:al asceticism. Maybe we should go back to ~the basics and see recreation not just as a time of personal leisure but also as a special moment for build-ing the common intentions with real people that will bond us to a particu-lar group. In the last several decades electronic media have frequently become an intrinsic part of the way some religious communities care for their elderly. Mothers with small children often refer to the television set as the "essential babysitter." The TV also gets used as companion an~ diversion for the infirm and bedridden. Has anyone ever wondered what 200 Review for~Religious, March-April, 1987 kind of psychological impact or shift in fantasy those old priests and sis-ters experience through their continual exposure (subjection) to game shows, soap operas and nighttime police stories? It's a thought worth pondering. In some cases those various media have even generated a new com-munity "official," like the custodian of the TV set or the curator of video movies. Their responsibilities are varied: get the TV guide from the Sunday paper before it disappears, tape the evening news for later rerun, moderate disputes about which programs will be watched, and so on. One final way that the media impinge on religious community life today may be in their subtle escalation of psychological depression. More than a few observers have suggested that depression is merging on becom-ing a national epidemic, the prototypical American social disease that eve-ryone seems to suffer from at one time or another. Depression results from a mixture of physical, psychological and social causes: weariness and exhaustion combine with discouragement that we have not met our expected goals within a social context that regularly fails to provide sus-taining or creative human relationships. All of these causes can be com-monly present in work-oriented, overly-structured and perfection-motivated religious houses. When someone senses the weariness and dis-couragement that keys the onset of depression, the easiest response is to plop in front of the TV set and watch "anything." It takes no effort at all. Paradoxically the unintended result may intensify those precise psy-chological and social roots of depression, the unreal expectations and the distance from people. Some psychologists have postulated a sharp link-age between TV addiction and habitual depression; the two feed each other in a vicious circle.7 Even though modern media present many difficulties, we could also point to effects which play a positive role: accurate information of world-wide import, entertainment of the highest artistic quality, and new, essen-tial ways of proclaiming the Christian message, as well as a very valid recreational dimension. St. Benedict probably would make the same kinds of concessions that he did about drinking wine. Certainly we ought to borrow his insights about moderation, as well as recognize that the media are probably here to stay in our contemporary houses. In the long run the challenge will be to discover a sense of com-munity living that binds together the older familial style of community with the newer style of spontaneous and heightened psychological interchange. Both possess strong values: the former, a powerful-sense of ptiysical togetherness in work and prayer, a set of common goals built up through repeated sharing, and the virtue of perseverance; the latter, an Modern Media and Community / 201 emphasis on the value of emotional support and a true recreational element in community. The merging of these two styles will affect all types of societal living today: the family, the social organization, the local parish, as well as the monastery. Unfortunately we have usually tended to oppose the different views in an either/or perspective. Without doubt the quality of community living has changed drastically in religious houses since those first telephones, radios and tele-vision sets were brought in. The wisdom of Benedict suggests that it's doubtful if the monks and sisters of our time can be convinced that these instruments are not good for them. So, at least, let us use them not to addiction, but to moderation. That's an incredible word of practical wisdom that resounds through the centuries! NOTES ' RB 1980: The Rule of Benedict. Edited by Timothy Fry, O.S.B., (Collegeville, MN: The Liturgical Press, 1981), p. 241. The quotation is from chapter 40, vv. 6-7. ' Margaret Miles, Image as Insight (Boston: Beacon Press, 1985), pp. 128-132, 148. 3 Canons 573, 602. Code of Canon Law (Washington, DC: Canon Law Society of America, 1983), pp. 219, 227. 4 Evelyn Eaton Whitehead and James Whitehead, Community of Faith: Models and S~t rRaBte 1gi9e8s0 f:o rT Dhee vReulolep ionfg S Ct.h Briesntieadni cCto, mppm. u1n6i5ti-e1s6 (7N.6e Mw aYrsohrakl:l SMecaLbuurhya nP,r Uesns,d 1e9r8s2ta).nd-ing Media: The Extensions of Man (New York: New American Library, 1964), pp. 57-67. See developments of these ideas by John Culkin, S.J., in McLuhan: Hot and Cool, edited by Gerald Emanuel Stem (New York: New American Library, 1967), pp. 49-57. -, 7 Jerry Mander, Four Arguments for the Elimination of Television (New York: Morr6w Quill, 1978). Also Marie Winn, The Plug-In Drug. (New York: Viking, 1977). Vocation Directors and Healthy Sexuality Sheila Murphy Dr. Murphy is a professor of psychology at Walsh College (2020 Easton St. N.W.; Canton, Ohio 44720) and is also Director of the Rogativa Center, an educational/ research facility, located on the campus, which serves the needs of women and men religious internationally. An earlier article, "Maximizing Human Potential," appeared in the issue of January/February, 1979. A vital concern to vocation directors is the healthy sexuality of the can-, didates they interview. Numerous workshops, articles, and lectures develop interviewing techniques, questions to ask, and areas to cover to facilitate directors' attempts to discover, during initial interviewing, the quality of candidates' sexuality integration. While these are all necessary and important, they represent only half of the story; the other half is the vocation director's own healthy sexuality and sexual integration. All persons are challenged to healthy sexual integration, and vocation directors, especially, must respond to this challenge because of the qual-ity and nature of their ministry. As initial gatekeepers of religious insti-tutions, their perceptions, judgments, and reactions regarding applicants determine whether of not, in many cases, candidates progress beyond expressing initial interest in a congregation or diocese. In this vital role, vocation directors need to be very clear about which interview issues are their own and which belong to the candidates. This is particularly essen-tial in the area of healthy sexuality. Healthy Sexuality--A Definition Healthy sexuality reflects the integration of the total person. Not a "separate" area of human development, sexuality is the total expression 202 Vocation Directors and Healthy Sexuality / 203 of an individual's social, intellectual, physical, and emotional develop-ment. In addition, the combination of these is also the individual's spirituality--the person's complete expression of who she or he is in rela-tionship to self, to others, and to God. Everything people do is sexual. Embodied as women or men, people express their femaleness or maleness in all aspects of their beings. As a ¯ female, for example, everything I do is sexual because I do everything as a woman; I do not function as an it, nor can I be a man. This simple yet relatively new concept was not part of the pre-Vatican theology or sociology in which most people were raised. On the contrary, most grew up in a time when sexuality was associated with genital behaviors, the epit-ome of which was heterosexual intercourse, and divorced from all other areas of human functioning. Within that limited perspective, the full gamut of interpersonal interaction, like self-disclosure, affection, and play-ful touching, were either dismissed as trivial or judged to be suspect behaviors employed as a prelude to the "real thing," i.e., genital inter-course. Also in ~this perception, people's social, emotional, and intellec-tual development were believed to be unrelated to their sexual integration. Such beliefs led to personality fragmentation, suggesting to people that they could compartmentalize their beings and their lives as if they were machines rather than vibrant, dynamic individuals. Because people are constantly emerging as persons, so, too, is their sexuality. Understandings of themselves that answered yesterday's questions may no longer be viable for today's. This all implies that a per-sonal understanding of sexuality is nbt a "one shot" insight to be devel-oped in adolescence (another myth perpetrated by the pre-Vatican II the-ology and sociology), but an ongoing struggle for authenticity. Vocation directors, like other religious, have been struggling for years to incorporate these newer understandings of self, sexuality, and spirituality into their religious lives and their ministries. A formidable task, this requires a rethinking and readapting of many teachings and beliefs that were entrenched in childhood and young-adult education. Fur-thermore, not all are in agreement regarding this concept; theologians, priests and religious continue to argue the place of sexuality in human development. As a personal and corporate enterprise, developing healthy sexuality is no easy task! Sexuality as a holistic concept suggests that the overall quality of people's lives is reflected in their interactions. If they are having difficul- .ties with their feelings, then these people will have difficulties with their sexuality. If intellectually confused or agitated, then they will be sexually and spirituhlly impeded. Feeling unaccepted by or alienated from their pri- 204 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 mary support congregation or diocese, these people will suffer other rela-tional and spiritual problems as well. Hazards of Vocation Ministry Vocatipn ministry is uniquely demanding, and recent reports and research on vocation directors indicate the importance of personal and sexual integration. Perhaps one of the most telling findings is th~ fact that the attrition rate from the ministry on the part of vocation directors exceeds sixty percent. They leave the ministry altogether either while still functioning as directors or shortly after terminating their positions. This certainly underscores the intensity and problems indigenous to this ministry. Another finding is the high rate of burnout reported by vocation directors. It is not uncommon for a vocation director to wear a variety of ministerial hats simultaneously. Many hold two or more jobs, each of which is reputed to be part-time but which, in fact, requires full-time involvement and energy. In addition to their vocation .ministry, many administrate diocesan offices (e.g., deaconate programs), function as parish pastors, or hold full-time teaching positions. They do many differ-ent things during the day, yet retire at night feeling exhausted and unfulfilled, both of which lead to apathy, resentment, and indifference-- all classic symptoms of burnout, the result of unmet personal needs. Some vocation directors report increased cynicism and hostility ~oward the people they serve. What they initially entered into with enthu-siasm and optimism has become fraught with boredom and drudgery. Another manifestation of burnout, this frequently translates into intropunitive aggression whereby some vocation directors gain an average of ten to thirty pounds a year; others convert their cynicism into increased alcohol and drug consumption. A frequent complaint of vocation directors is the pain of alienation they experience from the very groups they represent. Erratic s~hedules, travel, and workshop demands can preclude regular contact with their base group for prayers, meals, and recreation. Praying and eating alone can be lonely experiences, so vocation directoi's may seek support else-where. Sometimes they request a transfer to another community or diocese; sometimes they look outside their congregations for their primary support networks. In either case, they become increasingly disenchanted with their communities and .their work, all of which contributes to the high attrition rate reported above. Another source of alienation from base congregation and diocesan groups is the updated education most vocation directors receive. As fre- Vocation Directors and Healthy Sexuality / 205 quent participants in workshops, conferences, and regional meetings, voca-tion directors are exposed to the most recent theorizing and research in issues pertinent to religious life. They hear the latest on theological and psychological implications for richer ministerial actualization, and they are eager to implement these insights in their own communities. The base groups, not having been similarly exposed, are often confused over these "newfangled ideas" which seem to come as a shot in the dark. "After all," they reason, "this person is seldom with us. She or he is out and about, breezes in for a day or two, and expects us to change overnight without being an active member in the change process." Mutual recrimina-tions ensue; vocation directors perceive their base groups as closed to new ideas while base group members perceive vocation directors as free-wheeling individuals with their own cars, budgets, and schedules, and who enjoy the luxury of travel and trouble shooting. These conflicts play themselves out as a painful push-pull between the directors' pleas for inno-vation and the group members' refusal to budge. Vocation directors may then conclude that they can no longer, in honesty, represent their com-munities, which they have come to view as narrow-minded and static. Another source of personal frustration and community alienation for vocation directors is the intangibility of results in vocation ministry. Many congregations and seminaries stress the importance of quality candidates, yet when yearly evaluations roll around, actual "body count" seems to loom larger than quality control. Vocation directors have been known to invest enormous amounts of time and energy in candidates who, through such intense interaction, learn that ministry is not their authentic vocation. These individuals do not show up on "body count" charts, and vocation directors again find themselves trying to justify themselves as "really doing their jobs." Candidates who opt out of niinisterial pursuits have truly been ministered to. Yet how to account for such ministry is a dilemma faced by all vocation directors. ,~ Another problem reported by vocation directors is the feeling of "going crazy." Not unique to vocation directors, this symptom is fre-quently accompanied by the fragmentation experienced during normal, predictable, adult-development transitions. A person going through midlife transition while engaging in vocation ministry may feel that life has become too much to bear. Unable to differentiate ministerial issues from developmental issues, vocation directors can come to the premature and often erroneous conclusion that their work is the sole source of all their problems. Further compounding the situation is their perceived alien-ation from community, which leads vocation directors to believe that they cannot honestly voice their concerns to their brothers and sisters. 206 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 Taken together, these hazards can leave vocation directors feeling lonely and alone. Feeling alienafed, angry, and perhaps personally inade-quate, vocation directors are ripe for relational and sexual problems. Warning Signs There are many signs indicating that vocation directors are in rela-iional or sexual jeopardy. The following represent a compilation of several voiced by religious and diocesan vocation directors over the past few years. "Using relationships" can suggest poor sexual integration. This means viewing people as means to an end rather than ends in themselves. This occurs when directors approach others for what they can offer or do for them." Referring to others by title ratherthan by name--"my secre-tary," "my candidate," "my brother priest," "my sisters in community"--all are examples; they imply either ownership and/or dis-tance. The personal element is missing, suggesting that others' functions and/or commodities are more important than their persons. Some directors are plagued by pervasive anger, another signal of distorted sexual integration. They find everyone and everything upsetting, behaving as seething cauldrons of discontent. Their inability to enjoy life, to derive pleasure from people or activities, points directly to a lack of personal integration, which leads to impoverished sexual and spiritual expression. The challenge for these individuals is to identify the sources of their anger and to do what they can to rectify the situation rather than to target others inappropriately. Any increase in indulgence signals danger. Most people probably think of alcohol, drugs, or food in this regard, ,but they would be simplistic to end their list with these. Any compulsive indulgence is a warn-ing: compulsive exercise, compulsive visiting, compulsive TV viewing, and compulsive reading are a few examples. These behaviors represent a struggle to impose external controls which, individuals hope, will com-pensate for internal chaos. It is the internal fragmentation that threatens healthy integration, not the lack of food, exercise, or reading in their lives when people carry these activities to extremes. Another warning sign is preoccupation with others' relationships. These people seem to be perpetually immersed in somebody else's sexual/ relational lives. Most often the targets of their concern are family mem-bers~ and friends outside of the primary community or diocesan base group. Living vicariously through others will never substitute for living authentically through personal relationships, yet these people would prefer relationship-atka-distance to 15ersonal risk. They seem to be inter- Vocation Directors and Healthy Sexuality / 207 ested in relationship, yet they live divorced from relationship. Further-more, by attending to those outside of the base community or group, these women and men are avoiding their obligations of presence to and relationship within their primary commitment arena. Curiosity focused almost exclusively on others' sexual behaviors is a clear indication of unresolved personal sexual issues. Vocation directors must be especially vigilant in this by observing and monitoring the kinds of topics and questions that seem to demand their greatest energies. Does the conversation always seem to turn to sex? Are dates reviewed in minute detail? Are sexual histories more detailed than educational or family histories? Affirmative responses to any of these suggest that the vocation directors, more than the candidates, may have sexual problems. It is possible that directors are projecting their own needs and fantasies onto the candidates. A very obvious warning sign is a preoccupation with overtly sexual material. Increased viewing of x-rated films, compulsive reading and/or collecting of pornographic literature, and frequenting of strip bars may reveal unresolved sexual and relational tensions. Here, the problem is not so much one of the preoccupation itself as what it signifies. Marked changes in affectional displays, either noticeable reductions or increases, can be symptomatic of sexual disintegration. Normally affectionate people who become stand-offish, or normally distant people who suddenly need to touch whomever they are talking with,'are sending out pleas for help. In effect, they are demonstrating current discomfort with themselves and are revealing this through their behavior. .In all of these, people have failed to integrate or are struggling to rede-fine their sexual identities. As happens when individuals are agitated, they tend to look to others and the environment first as the possible source of or solution to their difficulties. Until the inner source or solution is dis-covered, these individuals are doomed to look for answers in all the wrong places, frus~trating themselves and others in the process. Healthy sexuality is a personal responsibility and privilege. Developing Healthy Sexuality The fii'st step toward h.ealthy sexual integration is education. People need to learn the basics of biology and human sexual response so they can make informed decisions about their personal sexuality. People in our society too often grew up in a culture where sexual myths outweighed facts, generating fear and inco .mplete information. Many women and men continue to function out of adolescent fears and fantasies developed when they learned half the sexual stor3) from friends who had, at best, about 201~ / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 one-tenth of the total plot. The sad tragedy is that many women and men religious do not know how to read their own body responses when in intense or angering or sexual situations. Simple, straightforward informa-tion is an available corrective. A sad reality is that men, more than women, are reluiztant to seek solid sexual education. Current research sug-gests that this is because men in our culture have been raised to believe that they must be sexually knowledgeable, and to seek information wo(ild be to violate their masculine image. Credible vocation directors, like all religious and priests, cannot afford to perpetuate that stereotype. Personal sexual evaluation is the next step toward healthy sexual integration. Armed with valid biological and sexual data, women and men must then assess their personal sexual identities. They must ask them-selves, "How comfortable am I with my own sexuality? What does it mean to be a woman? What does it mean to be a man? Do I know when I am sexually aroused, and what can I do about it within the bounds of my public celibate stance? What is my definition of relationship, and where does affection and/or sexual expression apply?" The answers to these and related questions must come from within. Opinions and text-books can guide reflection, but personal response is essential. Along with personal sexual evaluation is the challenge to develop s6me understanding of personal sexual orientations, whether they be ambisexual, homosexual/lesbian, or heterosexual. Since sexuality is con-stantly in process, so also will be individuals' assessment of their identities, but this does not preclude the need to think about and accept where they find themselves at this time in their process. Developing and evaluating personal philosophies of celibacy, sexuality, and intimacy are prerequisites to healthy sexual integration. People must hold themselves accountable to some code of sexual moral-ity. Too many people employ too much energy reacting to and refuting others' definitions of sexual
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Review for Religious - Issue 46.1 (January/February 1987)
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
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Review for Religious - Issue 41.1 (January/February 1982)
Issue 41.1 of the Review for Religious, January/February 1982. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1982 by REVIEW FOR REI.~G~OOS. Composed. printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A.: $9.00 a year: $17.00 for two years. Other countries: $10.00 a year; $19.00 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write: REVIEW FOR REt,IGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55802. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Daniel T. Costello, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Book Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor Jan./ Feb., 1982 Volume 41 Number 1 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW I"OR RE~.IGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's University; City Avenue at 541h St.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprints shoul.d be ordered from Rt:v,Ew Vo8 RE~oIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindetl Blvd.; St. L~uis, MO 63108. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. Review for Religious Volume 41, 1982 Editorial Offices 3601 Lindell Boulevard, Room 428 Saint Louis, Missouri 63108 Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Daniel T. Costello, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Miss Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Book Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is published in January, March, May, July, Sep-tember, and November on the fifteenth of the month. It is indexed in the Catholic Periodical and Literature Index and in Book Review Index. A microfilm edition of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is available from University Microfilms International; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Copyright © 1982 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. The Art of Wasting Time: Thoughts on the Expropriation of Leisure James W. Heisig Father Heisig, of the Society of the Divine Word, is a Permanent Fellow of the Nanzan Institute for Religion and Culture, General editor of its book series on East-West thought and Associate Professor of Humanities at the Nan:an University. His address: Nan:an Institute for Religion and Culture: 18, Yamazato-cho. Showa-ku: Nagoya, Japan'. In modern industrialized nations, time is thought of as an investment commodity with a fluid market value. The power of time to cure all ills that the ancient Greek proverb celebrated has been drained from it to reduce time to disposable mer-chandise within our control. Some people's time is now worth more than other people's time because they know how to use time .profitably, that is, to achieve maximum production with minimum consumption. The ideal management of time is measured by cost-benefit analysis. As a consumer commodity, time is also unevenly distributed: some people now possess more time than others, which they are free to invest wisely or foolishly. It does not take much reflection to appreciate how the metaphor of "annual income,"the most Oniversal measure of the relative value of time, has crept its way into the modern imagination and laden words once rich in personal meanings with the double entendre of economic connotations. And that is as true in the world of business as it is in the world of religious or humanitarian devotion to an ideal. We hear it said that the fund~.mental shock occasioned by the increased pace of modei'n living is that shorter and shorter periods of time enable us to achieve the same things that former civilizations took much longer to achieve, which in turn produces the need for constant novelty. In fact, we do notachieve the same things at all. By submitting time and human needs to new s.tandards, the quality of life 3 4 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 itself has been altered and important spiritual values siphoned off as waste. The trip across the Sinai that took the ancient Israelites forty years to complete would hardly take forty minu~tes today from t~ikeoff to landing. But whereas their voyage was a.journey that transformed a band of refugees into a people of God, ours is reduced to a mere change of location that takes place too quickly to effect any but the most superficial of insights. For us, time wasted in travel, in the use of outmoded tools, and in the inefficient use of resources and personnel is money flushed down the drain. On the one hand, time well spent promises the reward of time to spare; but on the other, the time that we have saved is only of value if it, too, is well spent. The result is that leisure has become a luxury item, with less to be found among workers today than there was among the slaves of ancient Greece and Rome. In such circUmstances, it has become easy to market time-measuring devices for popular use that approximate the precision of scientific equipment. A wrist-watch that takes time to wind and has to be reset once a week is an anachronism to the modern mind. The practical advantages of such accuracy are fictitious, but the ideological advantage is very real. We are so firmly locked into the modern myth of time that the thought of unclocking oneself, even for the purposes of relaxation, has become the moral equivalent of undressing in public. The idea of time that has colonized the habits of thought that gird the institu-tions of modem society--school, church, business, entertainment, travel, health care, politics, social action--has wrought a spiritual impoverishment on our native sensibilities. The reverence for free time Freizeit and leave from labor (leisure) has not disappeared, but its motivations have shifted. The important wisdom that time belongs among the "best thing~ of life" that cannot be bought and sold, that belong to all of us as our common human right, and that are their own reward, is in peril. The expropriation of leisure by the consumer ethos is one of the most harmful ideas that pollute modern consciousness and obstruct the construction of an equitable and sustainable global community. Instead of having time for oneself, time for the earth, and time for the human race, we have become content with having time to consume the goods and services manufactured in other sectors of society. We have come to think of time as a nonrenewable resource, and lost the art of wasting it lavishly for our spiritual well-being. Deliverance from this state of affairs begins with learning to make transparent the myth of time that we inhabit unawares. And onestep in that direction, it seems to me, is to have a look at some of the things we no longer seem to have much time for. Time for Oneself The story is told of a certain clergyman who went to see the famous psycholo-gist, C. G. Jung, complaining of an impending nervous breakdown. His story was a familiar one. Working fourteen hours a day to fill up his life of service with meaning, he found only a spiritual tiollowness to his work. The harder he worked, the more tasks he took on, the more his nerves stood on end, threatening at any moment to shatter through the fragile mask of the busy pastor and expose his The Art of Wasting Time hypocrisy. 3ung's advice was simplicity itself; he was to work a mere eight-hour day, go home and spent his evenings quietly in his study alone. Unconvinced of the wisdom of .lung's counsel, but sufficiently agonized to have no other recourse, the man made up his mind to follow the prescription to the letter. He worked his eight hours, returned to the parish house for supper, then retired behind the closed doors of his study for the rest of the evening. Some time later he returned to see .lung, reporting that, alas, the remedy had been a complete failure. Spiritually he was worse off than before, and the parish had fallen into disarray for want of attention. He had done everything just as he had been told, but to no avail. "What did you do in your study?" Jung asked. "Well, let's see, the first night I finished a Herman Hesse novel and listened to some Chopin l~tu~les. After that I read some Thomas Mann and listened to a Mozart sonata. Next I . . ." "But you didn't understand," .lung broke in. "I didn't want you to spend your time reading novels and listening to music. I wanted you to be alone with yourself.""Oh, but 1 couldn't stand it. i make such bad company," the pastor replied. "Aha! Now we see the problem," said .lung. "That very self that you can't stand for even a short period is the same self you have been inflicting on others for fourteen hours a day.~ The pastor's problem and the way he set out trying to cure it both belong to a level of cultural development that can only be called elite. The freedom to opt for a fourteen:l~our work day and drive oneself to psychological tatters, and then to reduce one's time of labor by 40% for the sake of spiritual hygiene; the possibility of consulting a professional therapist and paying for the service; the ability to read classic literature and appreciate classical music--all of these things belong to a style of life unthinkable to the great masses of humanity, who do not work for ends supererogatory to survival that can be dispensed with when body or soul collapses, but work to keep alive, and great numbers of them successfully. I do not mean to imply that the man's problem was not a real one, or that it should be classified, along with cosmetic surgery and Caribbean cruises, as needs bred of boredom or surfeit. I mean only that, like all spiritual problems, its roots reach over into problematic social structures as well, whose repair requires more attention to one's own soul. Of this, more shall be said later. What 'lung showed the pastor about himself, and what many of those who share his general cultural field can readily identify with, is that people will often go to extraordinary lengths to avoid having to look at themselves without a role to play. The crises of meaninglessness.that had attacked his work spread over into his leisure because of a common fundamental bias that value can only be generated by keeping busy at a socially acceptable task. In each case, he fled what he feared would do him more harm than anything else: his deep dislike of himself. In his work, the pretense of altruism threw up a thick smoke screen, almost as if deliber-ately to cloud the problem; and in his leisure the pretense of polishing up his education protected and reinforced the hollow ideals he could never quite recog-nize as his own. "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." Before one embraces those words as a commanded task, they need first to be accepted as a statement of fact: like it or not, one cannot love another if one does not first love oneself. And 6 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 there is no way to love oneself if one does everything possible to avoid spending time with oneself. The pastor's abuse of leisure meant that leisure was not a freeing time but an enslaving time. Instead of serving as a re-creational balance to the creativity of his work, it bound him more firmly to the estrangement he felt between his own innermost beliefs and his outward devotedness. The proper use of leisure, on the other hand, demands the capacity to turn solitariness into solitude, not to dread it as a mere isolation from things that have value. If there are human values that daily life and work sterilize conscience against, and if those values are truly the eradicable imprint of the divine on the soul of each individual, then the deliverance of the human from the inhumanity of which it is capable begins with a transforma-tion in perspective metanoia towards oneself. And that takes time, leisure time. To be denied that time to waste on oneself, or to deny it to oneself, is to forsake redemption from the common habits of evil that we all participate in unawares. Time for the Earth A second dimension on which our~modern myth of time has expropriated the functions of leisure is that of our relationship to nature. In order to get to the core of this problem, 1 should like to cite a story from the Inner Chapters bf Chuang- Tzu, the Chinese mystic and Taoist philosopher of the fourth century before the Christian era. It is a story about a certain master carpenter named Stone and his apprentice, and how they happened one day to encounter the truth about worth-less trees. It seems that on one of their voyages the two chanced to pass by a gigantic oak tree standing by a local village shrine. The young apprentice stopped short and stood aghast with awe at the towering majesty of the tree, whose trunk he thought must measure a hundred spans in girth, and whose branches were so immense that at least ten of them he reckoned could surely be carved into boats. But the master Stone just stalked off ahead without so much as giving the tree a second glance. Catching him up, the apprentice inquired of him why a carpenter should pass up such timber, more splendid than any he had seen since taking up his axe. "Stop!" the master rebuked him. "The tree is useless. A boat made from it would sink, a coffin would soon rot, a tool would split, a door would ooze sap, and a beam would have termites. It is worthless timber and is of no use. That is why it has reached such a ripe old age." That night the oak,tree appeared to the carpenter Stone in a dream and complained of being compared with useful trees that are stripped and pruned and robbed of their fruits or cut down in their prime because they attract the attentions of the common world. "As for me, I have been trying for a long time to be useless. I was almost destroyed several times, Finally I am useless, and this is very useful to me. if I had been useful, could 1 have.ever grown so large? Besides, you and I are both things. How can one thing judge another thing? What does a dying and worthless man like you know about a worthless tree?" The next day, when the °The Art of Wasting Time apprentice heard of the dream, he was puzzled. "If it had so great a desire to be useless, why does it serve as a shrine?" This time the master took up. the cause of the tree. "It is just pretending to be one so that it will not be hurt by those who do not know that it is useless. If it had not been a sacred tree, it would probably have been cut down. It protects itself in a different way from ordinary things. We will miss the point if we judge it in the ordinary way." Let us say the carpenter Stone, with his "ordinary way" of looking at things, is a type of technological men and women whose tools have so eclipsed their direct contact with nature that they can no longer revere the world except as something "useful" for their equipment. As the tree reminds the carpenter in his dream, however, there are values that go beyond the useful, beyond the values that civilizations assign to things when they judge them to be worth our "while." These values reach deep beneath the differences that separate the human from the rest of the earth, to the point of geocentric unity that was broken with the anthropocent-ric revolt against being merely a thing among other things. They reach beyond the divisions of means and ends into which people classify everything about them. Insight into such values begins with learning t9 listen to the earth, something whose importance we are only now rediscovering after a century of industrial progress. Even so, we have the greatest of difficulty in unplugging ourselves from the apparatus we have built to mediate our way to nature. The world is still viewed by and large as raw material for human civilization. We struggle to keep our environment free of pollution because we fear the spread of disease among people and the poisoning of our food. We lobby against the mindless pillage of forests because we fear the effects of soil erosion on our buildings and landscaping. We protect the wilderness because we need somewhere to "get away from it all." These are reasons that make sense to a civilized mind, but do not satisfy it quite yet. We still want more sense than that. Increasing numbers (especially those for whom there is no economic danger involved) are finding it therapeutic to sympathize with the plight of species endangered by hunting or the destruction of natural habitats. Others are relearning to use the tools that scientific advance had thought to render into museum pieces. Something like a spirituality of the earth is coming to birth, but its douleurs d'enfantement are spasmodic and uncomfortable in the extreme. Perhaps the major reason that the developed industrial nations of the world do not yet have time for the earth is that their livelihood depends on a world frag-mented according to its utility for tools, and on a work force of specialists who literally feed off of one or the other fragment. The kit of tools that provides us with our ordinary way of looking at the earth functions not only because it represents a considerable extension of the power of the human body--legs into automobiles, voices into radio waves, eyes into telescopes, arms into cranes, and so forth, in the great caricature that humanity has made of its own image--but also because it succeeds in devaluing any other way of looking at life and work. While this has made impressive leaps in scientific and technical progress possi-ble, it has also taken its toll on the human spirit in the form of a massive addiction I~ / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 to packaged, processed experiences of the earth. We seek respite from the drudgery of working at our own specialized task only to find ourselves consuming the product of someone else's specialization. The woman who sits from morning to night on an assembly line at a canning factory learns to put up with the boredom and servility of her labor by concentrating on the privileges it will give her through the money she earns. Come vacation time, she happily skips into a great steel can sealed in Los Angeles and opened in Hawaii, clutching her five-nights-six-days-cut- rate-holiday plan around which she has organized her hopesof regaining some of the dignity she had to forfeit in order to afford the trip in the first place. She may well spend her whole life without noticing 'that she is being sold on the earth in entertainment-packages by an industry that depends on people not being able to experience the beauties and pleasures of nature without their help. Such contact with nature, far from helping one to recover the basic human demand for creativity and meaning in work, only reinforces the same feelings of impotence, ignorance, and strangeness in the face of the complex machinery and bureaucracy that has come between people and the earth. From the point of view of those who have forgotten that demand, such time may be considered very well spent, very useful, and very recreational. But it is not the freeing time of leisure because it does not so much as waste a moment on trying to step outside the ordinary way of looking at the earth, to see nature once again from the inside as it were, as something valuable in itself. Time for the Human Race In addition to the estrangement from oneself and estrangement from the earth, there is a third dimension on which our myth of time has expropriated the dower of wasted time, namely estrangement from our own race. We who compose essays on electric typewriters and subscribe to journals on the spiritual life tend to forget that the technology we take for granted is still experienced as an oppression by the vast majority of human beings. Consciously it is felt as the oppression of neglect at the hands of those who dwell in the economic penthouses of the global commun-ity. Unconsciously it is felt as the oppression of envy for the equipment and the life style of affluence and the accompanying disgust with their own primitive enjoy-ments. For all the commonsense wisdom contained in the counsel that money cannot buy happiness, and that more often than not it only multiplies the possibili-ties for unhappiness, both the rich of the earth and the poor are agreed that it is a misery they would prefer risking. The consumer ethos that pervades and sustains a high level of technology at the top of the human pyramid also pervades and sustains the grotesque want under which most of our kind are forced to live. - By far the greatest part of the human community has no opportunity for employing the technological tools that are now transforming the fac~ of the planet, and in many cases do not even know that they exist. Those who use jet transporta-tion are an absolute aristocracy; for every one of them there are several thousands who have never ridden a bicycle. The number of illiterates in the world still far The Art of Wasting 7~me / 9 outnumbers the number of those who even own radios; and the number of people who own television sets is far lower than the number of those whose annual income does not reach the cost of a television. The rest of humanity, for which individuals in the developed world have no time, have fallen into conditions made more difficult to escape by the surfeit that one small portion of the world enjoys. At the base of the human pyramid there are ~hundreds of millions living on the borderlands of vegetation and death, which in turn belongs to a group of nearly one billion people whom we have now come to speak of as the fourth world. Above them is the third world, over half of which lives in a poverty they have no hope of remedying, yet a poverty tortured by the knowledge that some of the race spend their lives struggling to acquire still greater surpluses of luxury, and to glut themselves with still more of the already maldis-tributed fruits of the earth. Those who are born and bred in life at the top of the pyramid have little practical feeling for the current inhumanity that is ravaging most of the race. They find it easier to imagine science-fictional futures than to imagine the present reality, let alone to image their own complicity in the way things are. They may watch documentaries about starvation in Africa or floods in Asia, but fail to make any connection when they book passage the next day for a tour in the Yucatfin. Or perhaps better, they have allowed their.questions to be silenced by the whole tangle of government and economic organizations that constantly complain of how com-plicated everything is. They may know that the budget of New York State, with its twelve million people, exceeds that of India with its six hundred million, and perhaps even permit themselves a sigh of pity; but they entrust the sorting out of injustices to the experts who have been trained to worry about such things. All the privileged of the earth know for sure is. that they have no objection to others sharing in their style of life, provided it does not make any demands on theirown appetities. Clearly, this is not enough. Within a generation we shall have six billion people on the earth, with five billion of them living in poverty. The tactic of indifference, which amounts to a war of the few against the many, kills and dehumanizes more effectively than any weapon we have yet dared to use. But it is running out of time. As the poor arm themselves with the surplus of our .stockpiles, sold off cheaply to make way for more advanced weaponry, we cannot suppose that they will forever remain content with waging war among themselves. The smaller and more concen-trated the centers of wealth become throughout the world, the more vulnerable they become to the masses of those who have been trained to be jealous of what others are free to consume. The urgency of the situation, however, is not of itself enough to guarantee the quality of any and every attempt to alleviate it. Just as time for the self and time for the earth tend to get absorbed without remainder into time for the consumption of luxuries advertised as refreshment from working time, so time for the human race all too readily gets twisted into the donation of services that perpetuate the spirit-ual impoverishment of the technological world by camouflaging it behind an 10 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 idiom of charity. Those who are touched with a sense of pity for the maldistribu-tion of wealth and feel the pressure to help, all too frequefitly lack the requisite insight into their own patterns of thought to realize how their aid can amount to the substitution of one form of dehumanization for another. In providing hospi-tals, schools, factories, and modern transport for the underprivileged (that is, for those denied the right to consume culture as we consume it), the donor organiza-tions narrow their responsibilities down tc~ the unilaterial sharing of goods and values. The possibility that alternate social systems, now' rendered obsolete, unproductive, and unsustainable by the current management of the world's resources, may have something to, teach the human community about liberation from the consumer ethos is pushed to one side in the rush to make amends for gluttony overcome with guilt in the face of deprivation. I1: the price of providing bread for the world is further investment in the current means of producing and distributing bread, then bread for the world there will never be. The economics of this are fairly intricate, but the direct ratio th~it obtains between the number of people who are starving to death and the increased number of organizations and agencies aimed at distributive justice is plain enough to see. A leisure that is freeing for the human race is not simply time given free of cost by the haves to the have-nots, but a time for withdrawal from the ruling myth of time. It must, in the first pla~e, be a waste of tilne altogether free of investments economic or ideological, time wasted on the whole of the race, ourselves included. Of all the forms of leisure, this is the one that has become most radically enslaved to the biases of working time, despite the way in which improved means of communication have enabled an altogether new image of the universal h~]man family. There may be no greater constriction of.the imagination in the history of human thought about world order than that of the present day face-off in devel-oped industrial nations between the philanthropic illusion of the rich nations of the world opening their storehouses to share with the poor on the one hand, and the financial illusion of increasing productivity to the point of being able to sell more goods more cheaply without monetary loss on the other. And this, too, is a mark of grave spiritual immaturity. The Reappropriation of Leisure If I have left a good deal in the previous pages to innuendo and only hints of an explanation of how leisure time has become victimized by the spread of consumer metaphors, it was not only to condense a manifold problem into a few words, but also to prepare for what 1 wish to propose by way of conclusion. Simply put, it comes to this: that only the personal awakening of increasing numbers of individ-uals to the considerable loss sustained by civilization in its forward march into technology can provide the footings for a modern spirituality, and that only the redemption of leisure time from its servility to current structures of thought can provide the conditions for such awakening. The reappropriation of the need for leisure--an unadvertised, unprofitable, and withal revolutionary need--begins with the individual or it does not begin at all. No one can stand l~roxy for another's The Art of Wasting Time spiritual conversion. No expertise can service a society with personal insight, judgment, and decision. For it is not so much concession to the logic of particular conclusions that is the point, but the recovery of the process of working one's own way out of familiar biases. This process hinges on the art of wasting time. In the first place, leisure time should nurture a spirit of resistance to the humors of resignation that poison the bloodstream of industrial society. It should increase one's resistance to the workaday bias that the submission and trust due divine providence, for having cast us into a world with hopes in our hearts too big for our abilities, should be extended into a submission and trust in social provi-dence, for having spun a web of institutions so tightly about us that we are powerless to do much more than lay a hand across our inquisitive mouths and adjust as best we can. From the point of view of the world of time where work gets done, free time that results in raising basic questions about that world is not only wasted time, it is counterproductive. No doubt a life in which leisure means nothing but filling up with comforts and entertainments the hollow gouged out of the soul by resignation to the complexities of modern life is an ideal few, if any, would Openly champion. But the fact is, the bare physical need for periodic reinvigoration always has a spiritual dimension to it as well, and in industrial society that spiritual dimension tends to vacillate between the reinforcement of patterns of passive consumption of relaxation and spare-time thoughts about better pay, shorter hours, or increased benefits. In either case, it remains subser-vient to the structures of work and effectively concedes defeat to their power. It lacks re-creativity. This is the idolatry, of epidemic proportions, that afflicts the spirituality of technological society. Second, in order to offer this sort of recreational resistance to the spirit of resignation, time wasted in leisure should be an abandon to the spirit of playful-ness. I use that word in a broader sense than either the games of children or the athletics of adults to cover not only the labor of alternative activities but also the enjoyments of repose; and in a narrower sense than sleep or intoxication on the one hand, moonlighting or profit-making hobbies on the other. The playfulness of leisure has three facets. The first of these is the imagination of possible futures in which we might be free of the oppressions of the present. If such futures are truly' possible, that is, if they are able to emerge out of the existing world by a rearrange-ment of its priorities, then their entertainment in imagination is capable of being sustained and deepened from one period of leisure to the next. This in contrast to the scattered daydreams of wishful thinking that come and go for all of us without effort or lasting impression. That is, such images can accumulate sufficient form in time to lead to the commitment to some preferable future from among the possi-bilities~ To experience such a reorganization of hope in playfulness is to experience the genesis of an ideal within oneself. Not to experience it is to keep leisure locked up in itself. And finally, there is the transition from the possible and the preferable to the enjoyment of the future in the present. This is where most people are best at wasting time, even though they may not know what they are doing. It consists in the construction of a temporary utopia about oneself where the things one values 12 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 most can be savored. It is a timefor tasting ideals of companionship without strife, pleasure without labor, crafmanship without pressure, play without punishment. The reigning fear among those who wish to protect their leisure time from being absorbed by spiritual or intellectual recollection is that too much reflection inhibits enjoyment. And to be sure, there are those whose twisted sense of asceticism drives them from one cause to the other, volunteering their services and neglecting the wisdom that comes from having a good, wasted time. At the other extreme, enjoyment cut off from reflection about the future altogether quickly shrivels up into a mere pampering of a self exhausted by labor, with the result that it becomes less and less enjoyable and more and more like the pure passivity of sleep. Some-where between the two lies the art of celebrating a world that is not but might be for a while, a world filled up with the spirit of playfulness. Third, leisure should help foster a spirit of survival in the midst of this by no means best of all possible worlds. Just as the struggle for physical survival requires ingenuity in using available resources and at the same time remaining alert to the opportunities for deliverance if and when they present themselves, so too with the struggle for spiritual survival. It requires anger against avoidable evils, sensitivity to appropriate solutions in which one's anger may be expressed, and the capacity to wait without exploding from within or being sapped of one's energies from without. One may have to buy chemically treated food because fresh produce has been priced beyond one's budget; one may have to drive an automobile to work because public transport systems have become an economic deficit to the com-munity; one may have to put up with menial labor because one's skills are not in demand; one may have to swallow large doses of injustice, stupidity, and callous-ness. But one does not have to pretend to like it or allow it to embitter enjoyment. Survival means wedding a resistance to resignation with a love of playfulness so as to forfeit neither the gusts nor the disgusts of life. Fourthly, leisure needs to infuse a spirit of the sacred into the time that we waste. When the ritual, beliefs, and holy writ of a religious tradition become fettered to the myth of consumer time, they forsake their sacredness. When they cease to cut like a. two-edged sword that denounces sinfulness and announces goodness, they dull and profane their capactiy of re-creation. At the same time, when they provide mere divertissement from the trials of working life or serve only as platforms for supporting the flood of causes that wash through the mass media with the regularity of spring and autumn fashions, they betray their meaning. Sacred time is not an investment measured in loss and profit to the current problems of a civilization. It is a necessity--the necessity to hallow the self, the earth, and the human race as a single great gift beyond all desert. It insures that, whatever of practical use may come out of time wasted in leisure, it is the wasting that is holiest. Sacred time unplugs us from our own time and opens up a horizon of all time, against which the greatest sin appears as the desire for absolute control and the greatest goodness as the grace of being absolutely loved. All of us, every soul of us on earth, breathe the myths of our civilization as inevitably as we breathe the air .that surrounds us. They are transparent, taken for The Art of Wasting l~me / 13 granted, but essential for human .life. Leisure time is like a flute that transforms.the silent secrets in the air into music. It shows us the harmonies and the cacophanies, the purity and the pollution of our myths. Without leisure, we have no way to know the air about us, no way to love back the One who made us the,mythmaking animals we are. View From Behind Tapestries look like battlefields from the back. Threads like soldiers in hand to hand combat-- who is most resilient? Arms locked, elbows out, clenched fists of knot scattered like small skirmishes across the expanse. Who is most flexible? Stitches quarrel in overbearing voice, rush to trenches, maintain positions. Colors invade each other's territory, singing violent victories of light. All clamor, all struggle, It faces the wall of faith while the weaver and the watcher . work from the front. St. Anne Higgins, D.C. 123 Franklin St., Petersburg, VA 23803 Celibacy in Africa Matungulu Otene, S.J. Zaire's Father Otene, ordained in 1977, is presently working in St. Peter and Paul parish: B.P. 1125: Lubumbashi: Zaire. This article is excerpted from the booklet. "C~libat Consacr~ pour une Afrique assoiff~: de F~:conditi:," published by Editions Saint-Paul Afrique, P.O. Box 8505; Kinshasa, which was translated into English by Louis C. Plamondon. S.J.: Manresa; Box 47154; Nairobi; Kenya. In English, it is no. 65 of the Spearhead series, "Celibacy and the African Value of Fecundity," published by Gaba Publications: P.O. Box 908: Eldoret: Kenya, which graciously granted permission for our use. ~f the reason for Christian celibacy is unique, that is, for Jesus Christ and his kingdom, every Christian called to this type of life is also called to live out this experience in the context of his own culture and personal history. An African celibate today is not celibate in exactly the same way as an Indian of today, even if both are celibate for the sake of Jesus Christ and his kingdom. There is a whole world of emotions and affectivity which permeates our celibacy very deeply. This is so true that the world we live in affects the objective and subjective content of our celibacy. Both what we hear being said about celibacy and what we experience in our flesh by living out what is said, are rooted emotions. Without this emotive element, there would be no human celibacy in the full sense of the term; conse-quently, there would be no Christian celibacy since the latter is deeply rooted in human nature and since celibacy itself has also to be incarnated. The affective life of a South American--his way of feeling and living celibacy--differs from that of an African from Zaire or Senegal. Among Africans there are a certain number of differences in affectivity. However, even if it must be admitted that within the same people there are different ways of feeling things, this, nevertheless, does not mean that African peoples do not have a greater affinity with one another than with peoples from the West or the East. After all, their cultural heritage is common. This seems evident even if there are shades of meaning or subtle nuances which are hard to express in these few short pages, which do not pretend to be a psycho-so-cial study of human societies. 14 Celibacy in Africa The cultural milieu in which the young African lives has a very great impact on his response to the Lord's call. Celibacy is surely an area in which sensibility is a very important factor, if not the most important. In fact, coming as he does from a family where marriage is viewed in a very special light, the young African will carry in the depths of his being, perhaps through his whole life, the impact of this way of thinking. It will take only a circumstance or an event to awaken in him a whole world of memories accumulated throughout his short life. The fact that his grand-father was polygamous, that his own father had more than one wife, and that his own mother was not the first wife of his father, nor the one preferred, cannot but have significance in his life of celibacy. The mere fact of knowing that in his extended family there is somewhere a cousin with five children, each with a different father, cannot be without significance. Those are his half brothers, but this entails that this good cousin of his.is a husbandless woman with children entirely dependent upon her. To know that his aunt is a prostitute with children, cannot' but have some impact on him. It is no small thing to have a deep sense of all these situations and still, despite all this, to dedicate his life to God in conse-crated celibacy. This world which I have just described briefly cannot be found as such in Europe nor in North or South America, but this is the world that has shaped the young African of whatever black African country he may be. One cannot ignore these realities and pretend that they do not have any influence whatsoever on people. For Africans the child is a reality to be treasured; and each human being does all in his power to leave behind him :some offspring, whether he be married or not married, living the life of a prostitute or of enforced celibacy. All Africans desire to have children, sometimes by any means. The young man who hears the Lord's call is living in this very world and not in any other. His' reflections and ways of thinking are rooted in the environment from which he comes, in the psycho-social milieu which surrounds him. This does not frighten the Lord just as no human milieu frightens him, because it is in such complex situations that he manages to find celibates for his kingdom. Growth in the Life of Celibacy To be sure, other cultures also have their own difficult problems in this area. I am merely showing that our way of experiencing the world has an influence on celibacy and that the cultural traditions are to be taken seriously, but without exaggeration. The young African called to a life of celibacy or religious life will have to integrate progressively within his affective life the realities which surround him without seeking to escape from them. He will do so by looking at them frankly, without panic, in prayer, in his personal relationship with Christ in the Eucharist. God's grace is always there, and this is what gives us confidence in the face of the strong temptations in this life. This young human being will have to understand that since the Incarnation, God gives his grace through weak human beings. Accordingly, to see clearly within his own being, he will have to be open with another person who has the experience of Jesus Christ. The one the Lord will "16 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 put in his path will show him the road to follow and will give him courage in the moment of trial when temptations are strongest. Celibacy requires a lot of disci-pline. He will have to learn to exercise great control over his senses and sometimes to give up things which are innocuous, and to focus on the unique reality which is necessary, Jesus Christ. For certain types of people, chastity can be gained only after a hard fight lasting many years; and this can cause a lot of anxiety when it happens to people who are scrupulous by nature, yet desirous of achieving holiness. What I have just written is not rhetoric. It sometimes happens that young people are torn apart inwardly because they want to dedicate themselves entirely to the Lord but yet cannot completely control certain evil habits or certain attitudes which they find difficult to evangelize. I insist that it is a difficult fight--a fight to death--a fight which moulds a man gradually as he learns bit by bit not to depend upon his own strength but on that of the Lord who has set him apart from his mother's womb to preach his Gospel to men of good will There are less sensitive types of people who do not encounter very many types of problems in their development, but irrespective of their sensitivity, all will undergo moments when they are forced to make a decision for the Lord. The chastity that is required by a life of celibacy is not a case of spontaneous generation--it is a garden that must be tended lest weeds grow in it. When one has gone astray, one finds it difficult, sometimes even impossible, to go back; thus, it is not surprising that some young, generous people have gone astray. Vigilance is necessary in these matters, but the kind of vigilance characteristic of those who are sure of victory; for if Christ is with us, who can be against? Sooner or later Christ will defeat this devil of our middle age who likes to attack our flesh, born in the human condition, born incomplete. The young celibate, therefore, will learn not to abuse God's grace. He will be prudent; he will not take chances with his celibacy. He will have the simplicity of a dove but the prudence of a serpent. The married man who is a dedicated Christian will not flirt with other women lest his marriage, be threatened and, accordingly, his real happiness and that of his home. The same holds true for religious. They also cannot take chances with their passions and put themselves in the position of violating the gift they have made of themselves in the simplicity of their heart. Nothing escapes lay people when it comes to observing the behavior of reli-gious. They notice even the smallest detail when they want to criticize their priests or religious men and women. Some even take pleasure in judging them, in scrutin-izing their behavior to find the smallest reprehensible thing. In this way, they purify their religious, even without wanting to. Lay people are surely not gullible, even though they sometimes misinterpret the way African religious live out their celibacy. They can often distinguish between the religious who is loyal and faithful to his consecration to the Lord from the religious who is beginning to compromise and. to give in. Assuredly, their judgments are not gospel truth, and often one would do well to minimize themremembering that even the great saints were often Slandered by malicious tongues. Celibacy in Africa Certain Difficulties or Certain Illusions It is sad to 'note that many young, generous and seemingly solid religious have lost the grace of celibacy because of supposedly spiritual relationships with women religious and with young girls. There is nothing more dangerous than these suspect relationships between men and women religious, nothing more scandalous for African Christians than to see their priests, their men and women religious become involved in expressions of human love under the pretext of love in Christ.Many men and women religious believe rather too easily that they have been made immune to the weakness of their flesh. They are a little too quick to believe that they have attained the required maturity in celibacy. They sincerely think that henceforth sex has no hold over them since they have become spiritual. Yet, it is a very sad and illusory spirituality which makes man believe that he is now immune to sin. A really spiritual person, on the contrary, depends entirely on the grace of God without giving up healthy vigilance. I believe that the closer one gets to the Lord, the more one realizes that what seemed innocent until then now takes on the appearance of something that is not entirely pure. However, far from being threatened or discouraged by this increasing desire for purity, one has more and more confidence in the Lord and greater humility when one thinks 6f how little one is virtuous. In true love there is no fear. This is so, it seems to me, in the case of one who wants to respond wholeheartedly, day after day, to the call of him who has made us pass from darkness to his wonderful light. In my humble opinion, it often takes many years of solitude to be able to experience a true spiritual friendship in Christ with members of the other sex. The danger is to believe too quickly that the right moment has come. That is often when one goes astray. As for any genuinely Christian life, celibacy cannot go without suffering. There is no real celibacy without the mystery of the cross written, as it were, in the flesh of baptized people. A celibacy without renunciation, without a sacrifice that is willingly accepted, a celibacy which refuses to die like the grain of wheat fallen in the soil is a celibacy locked up in solitude and bearing no lasting fruit. There are people who are undoubtedly privileged because of circum-stances and especially because of the Lord, but let us not be too quick to classify ourselves among those people and risk spoiling the splendid grace the Lord has given to us--the grace of living the celibacy of simple people without any special favors from God, I mean without any extraordinary grace. This simple gift, in fact, honors the Lord just as much as the extraordinary gift that some of us humans might receive from God. I don't mean to say that it is absolutely impossible for men or women religious to experience a healthy spiritual friendship with members of the other sex, but I believe that some of us think that we have attained that stage when we really haven't. Often, because of a lack of restraint or a lack of real self-knowledge, one strikes up a friendship which will tomorrrow become sinful, therefore, bad for oneself and for theirs. A friendship to which we are too attached, a friendship which prevents us from fulfilling our duties is a friendship to be "18 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 purified or, better still to be abandoned while there is time; that is, as soon as we become aware off where it is. leading, the relationship must be severed politely and without human respect. This is for the greater good of the person whom we love in Christ; finally, it is for the greater glory of the one who has called us to holiness, Jesus Christ. In the same way, a friendship which would render a member of a religious order incapable of being available to do what his superiors want 9f him is simply not good. It is for the Lord that we have joined religious life, not for the purpose of surrounding ourselves with protective partnerships which go against true charity. In,his infinite goodness, the Lord may put on our path a person of the other sex for a certain period of time. This, person will enrich us through, friendship, and this enrichment can be mutual. But, here again, this gracemust be lived in all simplicity and with the necessary prudence since we are all weak, sinful human beings. Hope for Africa ~ , Certain missionaries have led young Africans to believe that celibacy is more difficult for them than !t is for young people from the West. This opinion is based on ignorance or it is a lie. The fundamental problem, in fact, is the same for all human beings; the conditions that are found in any culture are not qualitatively different. In the final analysis, it is the same fundamental problem for different people in different cultures; there are accidental but no essential differences. I have sometimes been shocked to hear this type of broad statement according to which it would be practically impossible for Africans to live a life of celibacy. For me, celibacy is rooted in faith in the living Christ. It is something which permeates the faith of the one who feels called, and faith is something which is given by the Lord without any distinction of culture or race. There are differences, but they are not so essential that they make a life of celibacy impossible in AfriCa. There are enough African religious to show th~.t this is true. Among these meia and women of Africa, often living in some isolated areas, there are men and women religious who live their cbnsecration to the Lord even in heroic fashion. Their silent example is enough to prove that celibacy is possible for Africans, at least for those who feel themselves called to it and who respond generously. Not too long ago, 1 was telling a group of young Africans the following: either we are Christians or we are not; either we believe in Jesus Christ or we don't believe in him at all. In this area there are no half measures. It's all or nothing. This is why faith in Jesus Christ requries a complete transformation of our life-style and of our outlook. One of the aspects of our outlook on life which must change because it is absolutely against Christianity is this requirement of a fruitfulness that is exclusively biological. A man without children among us in black Africa is one who does not bear fruit, who is useless and even an outcast. If there is an obstacle to the awakening and living out of vocations (and I am talking here about voca-tions to the priesthood or religious life), it is our too limited way of looking at fruitfulness. Many Africans believe that a man cannot be completely fulfilled in or outside of marriage unless he has many children. Among us, celibate people and Celibacy in Africa married couples without children are not seen in a good light because they seem useless to our society. It may be understandable that some non-Christians think this way. But for Christians this is disastrous. Haven't we ever meditated on the life of Christ? Can we ignore that he was himself celibate? Or do we believe that Jesus was not a man like us except for sin? Yet our creed is very clear on this. Jesus was truly God and he was truly man. If such is the case, why wouldn't we allow those among us who wish to live like Christ to doso? If it be true that the face of being celibate did not diminish the God made man, why wouldn't we accept that a certain number among us are not diminished by celibacy for Jesus Christ and his kingdom? Has the world ever known a being as fully developed as Jesus of Nazareth, our Love? Yet, he was celibate. Isn't this Jesus who lived without a wife and children still, even today, a source of all life for us? One doesn't lose anything by responding to his call, by becoming celibate for him and for his kingdom where we shall all have only one Father, his own, and where all of us will truly be brothers and sisters in the Spirit who makes us one. The young African is thus called to live a life of faith in Christ. He must not think that celibacy is more difficult for him than for young people in other continents. This is simply not true. Let us take the example of the West where today may be found pornographic films, sex shops, nightclubs. To live in such a world is not always easy. It requires a certain self-discipline. In order to live a life of celibacy in such an atmosphere, it is necessary to cling to Jesus Christ, to have a deep life of prayer and to receive the Eucharist regularly. The young African man or woman called to religious life will always remember that we live in a world of male and female; consequently, it is clear that we have to live our celibacy in the midst of men and women of our times and of our culture. There is nothing wrong with that; on the contrary, it is a grace that the Lord gives us by inviting us to live out his gospel in the midst of the world and not in some isolated corner. At the crossroads the Lord may put on our path certain persons of the other sex. We will welcome them as brothers and sisters in the Lord. The gospel is full of examples that show us how Jesus respected persons of the other sex. He doesn't send away the sinful woman who comes to the house of Simon, the Pharisee to have her sins forgiven. On this occasion, Jesus could have been afraid of shocking people by receiving such a woman with open arms. But the Lord was not afraid of what people would say or think because in true love there is no fear. Neither does Jesus judge the woman caught in adultery like the Pharisees who bring her to him. On the contrary, he defends her against the "unmarked tombs" who have grown old in sin and yet want to preach to others. Jesus is close friends with Martha and Mary as well as with their brother, Lazarus. Jesus has pity on the widow from Naim who has lost her son. The Lord admires the Canaanite woman's faith, and he is exceedingly affectionate toward his mother Mary, the Immaculate Virgin. In his Gospel, the Lord shows us how his celibacy did not exclude anybody. He Was completely open; he welcomed others. In solitude he prayed and he was a 20 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 source of joy and peace for the people that God, his Father, had placed in his path. If religious life is to flourish in our African continent,it is necessary that there be more and more religious who witness by their life of celibacy. A celibacy based on Jesus Christ cannot but be fruitful. Black Africa, which has such a high regard for fruitfulness, will see a new type of love which outstrips in fruitfulness the love of the children of this world. We, the sons and daughters of Mother Africa, have believed in the word of him who said, "there are some who are eunuchs because they have made themselves so for the kingdom of heaven. Let him who can understand, understand" (Mt 19:!2). If there is a word which has become the life of our life, that is the one. Spiritual Fruitfulness If there is a fruitfulness that is biological, there is another one which is spiritual. Any parent worth his salt knows that it is' not enough to procreate children. In responsible parenthood, it is also necessary to help the child that we have brought to life to grow untilhe has reached a stage where he will truly be an adult. To educate, to instruct are part and parcel of his awakening to human life. It takes only one instant for a couple to initiate the process of procreation. It takes only a little time to call someone into existence, but it requries many years for a child to become an adult. Whether it be as parents, as educators, or in any other capacity, all those who are engaged in human formation are doing a type of work that is spiritually generative. Any man who helps another one grow and become more human is a man who is gpiritually generative. This spiritual generation exists at various levels; yet, the spiritual fruitfulness of a Christian is not that of a non-Christian. From a Christian point of view, any Christian man or woman who awakens another human being to the life of God in Jesus Christ is spiritually fruitful. The object of spiritual fruitfulness for a Christian is Jesus Christ and his message. It is the person of Christ which distinguishes any typically Christian fruitfulness from any other. All Christians are called to be fruitful but in different ways and in accordance with their state in life. The form of life of one who wakens to the life of God in Jesus Christ is not something that is accidental. There are some who believe that the way of life--whether it be of married Christians or of "eunuchs for the king-dom of God"---has no importance in the process of awakening to life. But when one awakens somebody else to life, one does it with all one's being. If our way of life is not something external to us but a part of our being and, therefore, a part of our relationship to God, to others, and to the world, we can readily understand that this life-style is not without importance in matters of spiritual fruitfulness. In his life Jesus preferred celibacy to marriage, and this choice is not something accidental. The Jesus of the gospels presents himself to us as celibate and not otherwise, and this is part of the mystery of incarnation. In the same way Jesus was not at the same time a man and a woman. He was not both married and non-mar-ried. He was a celibate, and tfiis fact has some relevance in the transmission of his Celibacy in Africa message. He wanted to be born of a virgin, Mary, and this also is not something purely accidental or accessory in the mystery of salvation. Thus one who chooses celib~acy for the kingdom of God is fruitful differently from married people. This difference is rooted in the order of being and not of having. It is an ontological reality and, therefore, it is a dimension surrounded with mystery. The spiritual fecundity of those who live in celibacy resembles closely that of Christ. In other words, the way that Christ was spiritually fruitful resembles the way in which a man is fruitful through a celibacy chosen for Christ. Obviously "to resemble" or "to be close to" is not the same thing as "to be identical to." Wherever a true local Church is to be found, there will be found also Christians who are married and Christians who are eunuchs for the kingdom. Each of these forms of life has a great importance in the aspect of fecundity which is essential for the life of the Church. The uniqueness of the spiritual fruitfulness of a celibate for the kingdom of heaven shares something of the mystery of God made man, of God who wanted to be among us without woman or child while being eternally generative. Death Song of a Grain of Wheat Born above the earth, Beloved of the sun, Sky-held. Rain-touched. Wind-taught to dance, I know I sang of joy. Borne beneath the ground, Forsaken by the sun, Sky-denied, Rain-forgot, I feel no more the winds, And know a slower song. Yet reach I for the sun-set fires And C~rr the hidden waters. Stretched, song-heavy with the wait ' Of days too long to measure, I learn to trust the darkness That consumes me: That sends my myriad children to be Born above the earth. Sister Linda Karas. RSM Mercy Consultation Center P.O. Box 370 Dallas, PA 18612 The Sparrow Has Found Its Home At Last: A Personal Account of Transfer Anonymous The author is a sister who transferred from an active to a contemplative community some several years ago. She explains in the article why she prefers to remain anonymous. The sharing which follows comes as the result of a suggestion made to me that I write about my experience of transfer from an active community to a contempla-tive order. My first response was a hasty and hearty "No." Then the possibility of helping any individual or community involved in a similar experience crept into my prayer and thinking. The good which might be achieved seemed to outweigh my natural reticence and my disinclinatio.n to discuss the subject. I have not taken any polls, nor have I statistics. I personally know exactly six solemnly professed nuns and a few people in formation who transferred from active to contemplative life. However, one would'have to have lived on a remote Pacific atoll for the last several years not to know that transfers are on the increase. What follows is not a scholarly analysis of the phenomenon of transfer. It is just my own experience and an endeavor to share what ! have learned. The reason for my choosing anonymity is that I might feel freer in what I write and also guard the identity of my former and present communities. There is another reason: the story is more God's than my own. The transfer, or more correctly, my contempla-tive vocation, is his work, his call, his idea. My part has only been a response to his initiative and to his love. Early History The idea of transfer did not come as a sudden inspiration. My first desire to be a nun came when ! was twelve and I was certain then that I was called to be a contemplative: I even knew to which order and monastery I was attracted. Some-thing, though, interfered with following this vocation: My father adamantly opposed the idea of his daughter being immured in a cloister. The whole topic was 22 A Personal Account of Transfer forbidden, and gradually I forgot the idea. In the meantime, I became acquainted wi~h the sisters working in our parish. I won my father's consent to join this :community which 1 genuinely loved and admired. I received a good fo, rmation and an excellent education. I was very happy and contented. One thing consistenly moved and drew me: prayer. Right from the beginning I had some difficulty with meditation books and their outline of points, colloquies and resolutions. It all seemed too ready-made. Also, the time given to this prayer (one-half hour) never seemed to satisfy my longing for greater intimacy and depth. My difficulty was remedied by the fact that God simply transcended the books and led me along his chosen path for me in prayer. Another remedy came by way of hiding alone in solitary places on the novitiate property. There God had free rein in my heart. The one thing I most wanted was to love him and see him known and loved. Of course I did try to speak of this desire to superiors. They seemed mbre concerned that I live the common life, practice virtue, and eliminate my faults. All this was quite understandable but not terribly encouraging. Matters came to a head when I became a junior sister. My desires for loving God alone and in hiddenness, and for a life which would embrace withdrawal and penance became a steady fire within me. Neither studies nor work could distract me from it. After some months of inner turmoil I finally had the courage to broach the subject of a contemplative vocation to the community confessor, a, retreat maste.r, and my immediate superior. None of these persons told me the whole thing was a temptation against my vocation, but since 1 was happy and well adjusted, they each felt that I had enough opportunity for the things I was seeking within the scope of the religious life as it was then being lived in the congregation. Again, this was essentially what I had been told in the novitiate. My disappoint-ment was as strong as the attraction I had experienced but l was able to set aside my yearning. The work in which I was engaged kept me busy. I enjoyed it and gave myself to it wholeheartedly. A few years later, an unforgettable retreat, coupled with God teaching me to pray with Scripture some months after retreat, gave direction and support to me in my relationship with him. He was so near, and daily he spoke to me in his word. This did not rekindle the desire for contemplative life~ but it did establish me firmly in the way of contemplative prayer. This brief history serves, I think, to underscore a fact in my life and in the lives of those women whose stories of transfer I know well: the vocation was felt very early and not taken too seriously by those in a position to advise and assist. Had they done so, a good deal of the suffering, struggle and turmoil of coming to a decision to transfer,after many years in an apostolic congregation might have been mitigated. . Coming to a Decision In the years following Vatican Council II my community undertook its renew-al and adaptation. I welcomed all the initial changes as healthy and hopeful. As time went on, however, I became unhappy with my own and the community's level 24 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 of secularization. My modest wardrobe and collection of trifling possessions troubled my conscience. I wanted and expected to receive annual assignments, but the new approach of applying for both position and residence, with the full expectation that one's preferences would be honored, contradi6ted my understand-ing of Gospel obedience. T.V., mixed drinks, popular novels, dating, and all the inevitable departures from religious life were matters of grave concern to me. It seemed to me that the true life of the community was ebbing away, that God and the love of God were no longer the focus of life. We still did a first-class job in our work, but there appeared to me~ little difference between ourselves and dedicated lay persons. Without going into more detail, I felt it necessary to include the foregoing inasmuch as it formed some of the background for my transfer. However, I do not feel that discontent and disapproval, even if justified, are good reasons for transfer. They would form a very shaky foundation for any new beginning and would surely raise questions in the community accepting a transfer sister. Flight from trouble could well indicate that the same pattern would be followed in the new community. It could also mean that the heart of the problem might be within the sister herself, and her response to difficult circumstances. Fleeing trouble was never part of my motivation. Had this been the case, I would have done it much sooner because I lived in painful community situations for several years before making a transfer. Furthermore, 1 was always very open and honest in communicating my thinking to my superiors. One cannot simply leave. There must be integrity in the decision and it should be made in peace and, as far as possible, in harmony with one's higher superiors. There should be no bitterness, resentment or anger. The vocation is followed as God's call and is a result of his initiative. This fact, if kept central in the minds of all concerned, makes for peace; and it is in this way that God's presence manifests itself to all involved. God uses all our experiences to our good and brings about his purposes. While not my motivation, discontent and disapproval were part of my personal expe-rience and did serve to keep me from what I saw as wrong, In a more positive vein, they ,kept me praying for God's light, strength and help. Certain tragic events in my own family also form a part of this picture and had their effect. Instead of completely discouraging me or leading me to despair or exodus from religious life altogether, everything brought me to the God of all peace and consolation. He alone became myRock of Refuge and Teacher. The alienation I experienced from my community and its value increased my love for him and my trust in him. Thus it was that my attraction for simply being with God in love grew stronger. A mere "concidence" (in quotation marks because the providence of the God who numbers the hairs of our fieads extends to every circumstance and happen-ing) occasioned my writing to the superior of a monastery. In time we became correspondents. When I first visited her and met her community in the grilled and bare parlor of the monastery I was deeply moved. This surprised me. I had not thought of contemplative life as my vocation for years, yet here 1 was, feeling completely at home with relative strangers and very strongly drawn to their sim- A Personal Account of Transfer / 25 plicity, humility, joy, peace and poverty. In the months that followed 1 was haunted by the experience. I found out more about their life and read of their origin. Could it be? Might 1 become one of them? Or was this merely a desire for escape from present suffering ("the grass is always greener.") or a dream too good to be true? Then, too, there was the possibility to be faced that God was calling me to deeper contemplative prayer rather than actual contemplative life. And might I be doing more good in the world outside a cloister rather than in it? I went through this inner and secret turmoil for several months. All the while 1 begged for light and some discernible, positive direction from God. 1 kept waiting and hoping for some outside confirmation of God's will. God was, in fact, giving me all the "signs" I needed, but I distrusted the most significant of them: the profound attraction the life held for me over the years and especially at that moment, the fact that it fulfilled the most unselfish aspirations of my heart, and the fact that I seemed to have the requisite "talents." How is it we so readily distrust our own intuition and heart? Yet here at the deepest level of our being is where God works. Again, I have heard the same experience related by others who transferred to contemplative life. 1 went through no particular "process" of dis-cernment. There was just myself and, I trust, the Holy Spirit, plenty of tears, prayer, and searing, soul-searching honesty. One thing 1 knew: my life had one purpose and that was to love God with all my heart and soul, mind and being and to tend solely to him. Nothing else mattered. I did not see it then as clearly as I do now, but that, too, was evidence of a contemplative vocation, and had been the most important reality in my whole religious life. In his own time, God spoke, and he completely calmed the storm. I came to a "peace surpassing understanding." All my doubts vanished. My questions came to an end. I knew. In light of that peace I first asked the superior of the monastery (of the same order as that to which I was first attracted at the age of twelve) if there were any possibility of her accepting me. At the time I made my request I know now I was too little aware of the risk a small enclosed community takes in accepting a transfer. 1 next confided in my old and saintly grandmother who gave me her blessing, encouragement and wisdom--along with a warning that there was "still plenty of the world" in me and that I'd have far to go. She was absolutely correct. With my grandmother's prayers to back me, I approached my major superior. She was wonderful and accepting. The depth of my peace and conviction were evident to her. She fully realized and agreed.that this was a genuine vocation and not a result of any differences of values or opinions. We communicated in a real spirit of love. Not knowing much about contemplative life, her concern was that my personality might be stifled or my gifts ignored and unused. 1 had tentatively broached the subject to a priest friend in a letter some weeks before. Visiting him, 1 told him the whole story and said that I really thought it was God's will for me to transfer. He informed me that it came as no surprise to him, that he had seen it coming but had not wanted in any way to interfere with God's guidance of me. Among my family and friends, the least suprised was my mother. Her intuition had led her to realize that a great change was in the offing. 96 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 The responses of all the above mentioned persons further confirmed my expe-rience. I cannot say that my decision was accepted or understood by all my friends and religious family. It caused some painful estrangements and there were those who could only accept it as my "thing" and therefore all right for me. The actual process of transfer was thus initiated after what had felt like an interminable period of waiting and praying. Perhaps God wanted me to realize that it was first necessary that I be utterly surrendered to his desires and that the only way he could achieve this was to let me struggle on "alone" during that time. It was a kind of game of love. He so deeply drew me but never let me fully reach him. Left to myself 1 could not believe in my own heart. It was not until he gave me that unmistakable sign and gift of peace that 1 was sure that what I had been experiencing in my own heart was indeed his will for me, that the two were not two, but one. Legal Process of Transfer Because 1 am rather sure questions about procedure will arise, it may be helpful here to tell what 1 know about getting the document known as a "Rescript of Transfer" from the Sacred Congregation for Religious. In my own case this was done in the last months of my postulancy immediately prior to my receiving the habit and commencing my canonical year. For the validity of novitiate, one must have this document. Ordinarily the Vicar for Religious of the diocese in which the monastery is located handles the paperwork. He directed that three letters be written: the first by the superior of the community ! was leaving expressing her approval and her willingness to receive me back at any time before solemn vows should I leave the monastery; the second by the superior receiving me stating her willingness to receive me and including pertinent data regarding my status in religion (name, age, years professed, community of origin); the third by myself. handwritten and addressed to the Pope, stating my request and my reasons for it. These letters are sent to the Vicar who forwards them to.Rome through his office. In approximately six weeks, upon receipt of the rescript, he sends copies to the superiors. This is, as ! understand it, the general procedure, although I have heard of it being done through the Vicar of the diocese which the transferring sister was leaving. I have also heard of cases handled by a major superior independently of the Vicar for Religious. The superior dealt directly with the Sacred Congregation for Religious. In any case, this rescript is the only permission one needs to begin the canonical year and proceed through formation to vows. New Beginning I entered upon my new life with certain expectations. Some were realistic and some not so realistic. It was realistic to expect some sense of dbjb vu. This was in many ways a return to customs and practices l had lived in my first several years of religious life. With these things I was at home. I had also rightly anticipated a warm community life. Of course 1 allowed for a period of adjustment, but I did not A Personal Account of Transfer expect it to last more than six to eight weeks, in fact, it took much longer than that. The reason was not that I was too old to learn or change or that 1 lacked a willing docility. It was more subtle than this. Without realizing it, I expected to enter upon a period of rest, a sort of honeymoon in a safe harbor after years of struggle and sorrow. This was not to be. For one thing, the monastic community I entered was going through its own renewal pains. And much worse, for me, was that when I came in the front door of the monastery it seemed that God left by the back door. Here 1 was at last, and where was he? The work tired me. The hard bed took some getting used to. Often it was impossible to get back to sleep once it had been broken by the Office or night adoration of the Blessed Sacrament. Sometimes the closeness of my neighbors irritated me beyond measure. There were no days off from routine. I expected to master everything easily but it turned out that I was the one to be mastered. After many years in religious life it amazed me to learn how deluded I was about myself. Without the distractions of apostolic work and all that goes with it, without useless conversation, reading and entertainment, God's light began to clarify my vision. The very starkness of the life, its purity, makes for this experience. I was face to face with myself, my weakness, my poverty. Anything is possible if God is tangibly supporting us. It is when he is appar-ently nowhere to be found that things get out of hand and we are unable to cope with the simplest and most normal inconveniences and trials of daily life. But ought not a contemplative be able always to find refuge in prayer? Self-made prayer is most unsatisfactory. What a contemplative learns by being unable to pray, by being reduced to utter poverty at every level of existence (and this was my experience) is just to cling in naked faith to Jesus Crucified. Paradoxical as it may sound, there is no greater happiness. Having come to this reality through suffering, both in my life before 1 entered the monastery and in the years 1 have been here, I know something of what it means to say with Paul that I have been crucified with Christ, that my life is not my own and Christ lives in me (Ga 2:19-20). The way to the deepest joy I have ever known is just as the Son of God has taught us and that way is by losing my life and denying my very self. The total experience of knowing myself as nothing, of having nothing, has opened my eyes in faith to the All within me, the Being who in unfathomable love calls non-being into union with himself. My love for God, my hunger for him, unites me at the Heart of Reality with all my brothers and sisters in this world. I do not live for myself, nor suffer for myself, nor weep for myself. My vocati6n embraces every person on earth. In their names 1 pray and work. In their names, I, too, am in misery and pain. I am a whole world calling to God in need, in love, in trust. 1 have entered eternity in time and within me there is infinite scope for love. I came because of love and I have stayed because of love. Surely it is "a narrow gate and a hard road" (Mt 7:13-14), but it "leads to life," life opening more and more into the mystery of God as love. The Needs of Contemplatives in Direction Barbara Armstrong, O.SS.R. This article had its origin in a presentation made to a group of retreat masters by Sister Barbara, a cloistered nun residing in the Redemptoristine Monastery; Liguori. MO 63057. Somewhere in her writings, the great St. Teresa compares the contemplative with the standard-bearer in battle. She says that, because he is the standard-bearer, he is exposed to great danger. He can't defend himself because he carries the standard, of which he must not let go--even if he is to be cut to pieces. "Contemplatives," she says, "have to bear aloft the sign of humility, the Cross. And they must suffer all the blows aimed at them without striking back. Their duty is to suffer as Jesus did." "Let them watch what they are doing," she says again, "for if they let the standard fall, the battle is lost." It isn't the standard-bearer who is important. It is the standard itself which is all important, for it is imprinted with the sign of our salvation: the Cross. Perhaps this is why there are so few contemplatives. Perhaps, too, this is why contempla-tives need all the help they can get just to respond fully to the call of their vocation, to persevere and become fruitful in the Church of today. You Have No Eyes to See The message sent to the Church in Laodicea, in the Book of Revelation, is also a message meant for contemplatives--and for those who guide them. Right after the familiar passage about lukewarmness, we hear the Lord say: "You have no eyes to see that you are wretched, pitiable, poverty-stricken, blind and naked. My advice to you is to buy from me that gold which is purified in the furnace, so that you may be rich, and white garments to wear so that you may hide the shame of your nakedness, and salve to put on your eyes to make you see." That phrase, "You have no eyes to see," is significant for us because ignorance The Needs of Contemplatives in Direction is one of the reasons why relatively few contemplatives ever attain the end for which they were called: union with God. Mystical graces, we are told, are always available. God's goodness and generosity are never lacking. But very few actually arrive at a state of contemplation. Why is this? To answer this question, I would like to tell you a story. Actually, it is a parable which is told in the book of a Carmelite nun, Sister Ruth Burrows. Here is her parable. A Love Story Hidden away in a valley surrounded by high mountains there lived a very primitive tribe. The people of this tribe knew very little of the world outside their valley. Occasionally, they would get a glimpse of a jet streaking across the sky far over their heads, and this, they thought, was one of the gods throwing spears at another. One day a man appeared in the valley, a young anthropologist. He had come to study the tribe at close quarters--if they would have him. But they were a gentle tribe, so they welcomed him. The young man was lodged in the chief's hut and lived there for some years. Eventually he fell in love with the chief's daughter and married her. Hitherto, the girl had thought herself wealthy. Was not her father the most powerful of their people? But the closer she grew to her beloved, the more she saw that her riches--the family cattle, some cooking pots and animal skins--were as nothing compared to the possessions that were her husband's. He had materials, leathers and machines, knives and matches to make fire--riches unimaginable. But the girl saw, too, that her husband's greatest delight was to share his riches with her. Her lack merely aroused his bounty, so she knew her poverty itself primarily as a richness, giving them both pleasure. There came a time when the anthropologist had to leave and, taking his wife with him, he returned to his own civilization. The native girl found this new environment terribly alien. She discovered, to her horror, that her husband's enemies laughed at him behind his back because of his primitive wife. Even his friends pitied him. She didn't know what to do with this bitter knowledge. Some-how she had brought disgrace on her loved one. The girl always knew that her husband loved her. She knew that he longed to share his heart with her, take her completely into his life. But when he tried to speak of so many things closest to him, she would notice his voice falter, for she could not follow even the meaning of his words, let alone the scope of his thoughts and concepts. She was shut off from him by her own limitation and ignorance. That caused her distress almost beyond bearing. The more she realized what her poverty cost her beloved, the more absolute became her will to escape from it for his sake. Equally the more clearly did she see that, of herself, there was no escape. But all was not lost because she also realized that in her husband she had come not only to understand her poverty, but to find an effective and everpresent escape from it. From him she could receive all that his Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 love had prepared for her. So she opened her heart to everything he had to offer her. She found in him the most loving of teachers. Soon she became the echo of his thought. There passed between them intimate glances of complete understanding. She had an intuitive knowledge of how his mind worked, so closely did she grow to him. Yet she bad lost nothing of that natural woman he had first loved. On the contrary, she only now realized her own innate capacity. Her enrichment had brought all that was already there to bloom. But now, more than ever, she knew, too, that this was all his doing. Every perception, every growth, had come from his love and his teaching. Genuine Contemplatives This story, lengthy though it be, brings out so many important points about the contemplative vocation. Years ago, maybe it's different now, one of the phrases we often heard was that "we should strive for perfection." This tended to make us think that we could do it all ourselves. The main idea seemed to be that we were in control of our lives. The success of things depended on our own efforts. And so, many of us thought we could become contemplatives by the things we did. Like the primitive tribe of our story living in their valley, though, our horizons were very limited. We were content with our regulated existence, our own personal riches and the consolations sent us from time to time by a loving God. Much confid~nce was attached to the good things of our little enclosed world. We had no eyes to see beyond our then present peaceful life. But since we are meant to be genuine contemplatives, Jesus began to break through our ignorance and complacency. He asked us to leave our valley of poverty. He invited us to a rich interior world, one we had never dreamed of. These invitations continue to be offered to us in many ways. Perhaps they come in a retreat, in a sermon, in our reading, or through the words of a friend. But the voice is the voice of Jesus, and he invites us over and over again. If the primitive tribe in our story had turned away the young anthropologist when he came among them, he would never have married the chief's daughter. She would never have learned about the larger world; she would have stayed in her ignorance. Think of all the beauty, rich, ness and love of which she would have been deprived. The great St: Teresa was satisfied for a long time with her routine religious exercises, even though in her heart she knew better. We read that she continued to live just over twenty ,years with her heart divided between two extremes: the pleasures, satisfactions and pastimes of her fashionable world, and the spiritual life of a contemplative. How can this happen? How can we contemplatives continue to fool ourselves ---even though we are continually prodded, continually touched by grace? One of the ways we contemplatives have of staying in our valley of poverty is by our attachment to .the Law. We can" fall prey to a sort of fanatical legalism. The Needs of Contemplatives in Direction Most often, it seems, it is the most pious of persons who become rigid and unbending formalists. "Here at last," we say, "is something solid to hang on to." In our own eyes we are in the right. "We are doers of the Law." Any ,doer of the law, however, will also be tempted to live by the law, whereas the true lover of Jesus lives by the spirit. We contemplatives tend to make the Law, and it alone, our security. We never even dream that it is possible to seek a perfection in anything whatever with an intensity of zeal that is in itself imperfect. For instance, often in the past, the cross, austerity, suffering was unthinkingly perverted by us in our zeal. Wehad the idea that, since we were only pleasing God when we were suffering, the more suffering the better. Fearing and hating our bodies, we thought, would make us spiritual people. This, together with the notion that we were redeemed by suffering since Jesus died for us, we pushed .to its logical conclusion, thinking that we could never have too much suffering. It wasn't suffer-ing that redeemed us. It was love.t We contemplatives can develop attachments to just about anything: to prayer and fasting for their own sake; to a pious practice or devotion; to a custom or system of spirituality; to a method of meditation, even to contemplation itself (or to what we think is contemplation.) We can become attached to virtues, to things that, in themselves, are marks of heroism and high sanctity. We religious men and women, called to be saints, can allow ourselves to be blinded by an inordinate love for such things and can remain just as much in darkness and error as those who seem far less perfect than we. Some of us can become gluttons for prayer and for silence and solitude. Silence can become an ultimate. When there is noise we become angry and rebel-lious. If we are required to set aside our solitude for the sake of charity, we fill the air with our complaints. This kind of solitude and silence is false, of course, a refuge for the individualist. Perhaps the deepest attachment of all, the one which keeps us in our valley of poverty the longest, is attachment to ourselves. On this we must keep a fingerhold; we just cannot let go. Self-respect, self-fulfillment, self-satisfaction--we have to look good in our own eyes and in the eyes of others. We worry.about failure because somehow we are not living up to the expectations we have set for our-selves. Only secondly do we consider the expectations of God. In our story the chief's daughter found that her lack aroused her husband's bounty. She knew her poverty primarily as a sweet thing. But covetous as we are, we contemplatives want our hands full. We must have something of our own which we can bestow on God; or at least hold out to him, thinking to win him over with our generosity. When Jesus Touches Us Sooner or later we begin to realize that this way of living does not work; we begin to see that relying on ourselves alone is doomed to failure. When Jesus touches us with his mystical graces, what happens? Our eyes are opened and we are Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 dissatisfied with everything. This overwhelming feeling of dissatisfaction could very well be Jesus' most precious gift of all. But it does not seem so to us~ We look within and discover the same faults and vices we have always been burdened with. Prayer has become almost unbearable. Spiritual things in general lose their familiarity and joy. Panic deepens. Life seems turned upside down and inside out. Above all this, the knowl-edge that we have failed the Lord, that we have dropped the standard, that the battle is being lost--this is our deepest sorrow. But although all seems lost, what we experience in reality is the finding of our true life in Jesus. Like our primitivegirl, we, too, begin to realize, at last, that only in Jesus will we find our ever present redemption from our dreaded poverty. Retreat masters, spiritual directors and confessors will do us the greatest favor if they direct their efforts toward instilling in us an abiding trust in the all-loving Providence of God and in the saving life of Jesus. They should help us to mistrust ourselves and to surrender ourselves into His hands. They should teach us to cling to him no matter how dark things seem to be, teach us to have faith in his love and in his forgiveness no matter what we think we have done; no matter how we think we have failed. Signs of Progress What are the signs by which spiritual directors may gauge for certain real progress in contemplatives? Some of the outward manifestations of an inward mystical encounter or of infused contemplation might be the following: We contemplatives might describe to directors an experience of a deep and painful knowledge of ourselves, for we begin to see ourselves as we truly are. We may say that all our illusions are b~ing shattered, especially our illusions of self-importance. We may tell them that all our cherished ambitions are unmasked for the first time, or that we feel our dignity has been overthrown. We will, perhaps, tell them that we are lost; that we are not sure any more if we are leading dedicated lives at all. We exper!ence a growing sense of insecurity. At the same time, strange as it may seem, we experience at~ acceptance of this state. As our native girl found when she op~ned her heart to everything her husband had to offer her, so we contemplatives begin to see everything in a different light. Our lives of austerity, our efforts at mortification will acquire a deeper significance. We understand that as God is our life, we must let nothing take the edge off our need for him. This is a new way of living out our hunger and thirst, our refusing to be satisfied. We are consenting to have no security and no other satisfaction but God; a God who is unseen and unfelt. So near is he and so awesome, that unless we say "Yes" to him all the time, and accept life as he gives it, we must return to our valley of poverty. The temptation to turn back can be overwhelming. But it is also true that we are given a powerful strength at this time, enabling us to persevere. All this, of course, is an effect of Jesus' lox;e for us. We remember, indeed we cannot for a The Needs of Contemplatives in Direction moment forget, that any enrichment in us is all his doing. Still, this is a time of great struggle and temptation. Perhaps the greatest temptation will be to abandon prayer or at least to try to escape, in some way, the grievous suffering of a deep emptiness and poverty within. This empty prayer, however, has tremendous importance. If we consent to wait humbly for the Lord, we will, all unknowingly, find that it is precisely in this arid waste that Jesus is touching us. At this juncture, the contemplative might tell the director of an experience of being literally undone and remade, for there are no half measures any longer. What is really happening is that our faith is being deepened all the time. A sure sign that we contemplatives have not made progress will be precisely the certainty that we have! Alternatively another certain sign of growth might be the gradual disappearance of a tendency to criticize and find fault. There appears instead, a more gentle outlook; a kinder and more compassionate approach, thanks be to God. Love: Human and Divine Love has been our theme all the way through. But now I would like to be a li'ttle more specific about love, I mean the place of both human and divine love in the contemplative life. I think we will all agree that human affection is probably the most sweeping emotion in us. So, from the outset, we need to keep these two loves, the human and the divine, in order, lest the human sweep us off the foundation of the divine. To feel attraction for another, of course, is not wrong. Yet, for some of us, it can and does become a .dangerous thing. We fear to admit our feelings and to accept them, for the very difficulty in doing so can pose a thousand problems for us. At the same time, we know that this is the only healthy approach. It means we are accepting our sexuality and womanliness. I wonder if any of us ever fully grasps what a block to God's transforming action lies in the refusal to face up to and integrate our sexuality, and live it out continently for the glory of God? The Carmelite, Sr. Ruth Burrows states: "Being sexual means basically that 1 am a half and. not a whole. I am incomplete as I am and I tend, unconsciously, always to seek my other half, even though consciously, ! have renounced my right to marry and have children and be made whole by another. But grace does not work fully in a half person, so I struggle to love purely though it be through a great deal of suffering, because Jesus has promised to fill my emptiness with himself and so take away the ache of loneliness. If I am to become whole it will be in him and I must live in the hope of becoming whole in him and in him alone." The greatest danger is that we will try to get rid of the pain. We will even deny that these desires and attractions exist because they do not fit our stereotypic image of "the holy nun for whom God is enough." When we deny these feelings, the temptation will be to seek compensation for what we have given up. Frustrated longing comes to the surface sooner or later. It shows itself in outward behavior 3tl / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 such as domination of others, maternalism (or paternalism), or a passive or child-ish dependence. Who hasn't encountered these types in religious life? There are the old maids or bachelors. They will avoid personal involvements of every kind. In the name of holy recollection, they "keep their hearts for God alone." They are afraid to make friends and so they play it safe. Then there are the frustrated wives and mothers--and we might add, frus-trated fathers. These have never faced up to the truth of their feelings and desires. So they live on compensations instead of on God. They use their friends selfishly, looking for gratification from them. They dominate.and control other lives for their own ends, thinking all the while that this is "holy freedom" and "human fulfillment." To get back to us women: a woman, by nature, is meant to be selfless, receptive, wholly intent on giving and loving, that others 'might become them-selves. But when we see so many religious women leave their institutes these days, giving up their vocation and going back to secular life, we're not judging them when we ask, "Could it be that they did not get the help they needed in this problem of love?" Perhaps they found no one to understand their problem. Was there anyone to whom they could have gone for guidance amid these conflicting feelings, desires and attractions? I think we all need to know that it's alright to feel attraction and affection for others, especially for those of the opposite sex. I think we need to hear again and again that the feeling of attraction is only one side of love; that it may lead to love but that it is not itself real love but only a feeling. And like any feeling, it will not last thus forever. In the meantime, the tension in which we are caught, between our desires for exclusive love and our commitment to universal love, needs some level-headed self-control. We need someone to encourage us tO effort, watchful-ness and patience, humility and trust in divine grace. The struggle will teach us to rely on a spiritual power higher than our own nature. There is no doubt that we will grow from this struggle, which with God's help will become creative. We will learn to grow up, to take total responsibility for our own lives, their choices and decisions. And we will allow no one and nothing to turn us away from the principles by which we wish to live. The ultimate answer is found only when Jesus is re'peatedly placed before us as the object of our whole desire, and when, by repeated redirection, we are gradually transformed into him. Viva Memoria Finally, there comes a time when the interior rending apart, the anxiety, the sense of terrible absence are no more. The mysteries of Jesus, previously seen as the imitation of Christ giving the external principles by'which we were guided, now become our own mysteries, and we live progressively the life of Jesus; we become literally living memories. All that happens to the "personal me" begins to give joyful insight into the knowledge of Jesus himself. ~ Our venerable foundress, Mother Mary Celeste, has something to tell us about The Needs of Contemplatives in Direction this mystical state of contemplation. In her prayer our Lord speaks to her in these words which she passes on to us: "My spouse, abandon your own free will, your willing and your not willing, and leave all to my Divine Providence and my disposal. Make yourself an echo of my Willing. And if I say to you in my good pleasure: 'A cross,' then in your willing, will the cross. And if I say: 'Humiliation and contempt,' then be my echo and say, 'contempt.' And if I say: 'Kiss me with the kiss of sweet union,' then give me the most sweet echo of love and kiss me. It is in this way that you have no other desire or will than the absolute movement of my Will. Thus while you live, I, too, live as if I alone were alive in your very being, a.nd not you yourself." As with the happy couple in our love story, so it is with us: There begins the passing of those intimate glances of complete spiritual understanding. We might say that our whole occupation is love, or that prayer is our life. Either statement would be equally true. Then there is an awareness of deep contentment. That doesn't mean that growth isn't possible. In fact, it has to happen. The surrender becomes deeper and deeper, letting God do everything, totally sure that he will do so. And so ours becomes a life of deeper and deeper trust. We might end this as we began by saying, once again in the words of Sister Ruth Burrows, "Holiness in the contemplative is not a greatness but a total acceptance of human lowliness and total surrender of it to God in trust." Desert--After Fire Twisted; tortured, Bare black This land. Seared, scarred, What remnants remain. Evening whispers, "All is lost." Night mantles dark Deeper than ever touched This fire-scorched earth before. This land will heal. Soft spring rain Will sift tl~rough ashes. Bring new life to seed Concealed beneath the crusted earth. The cross is fire too And bare its wood Which must be aflame Before the Paschal morning dawns To heal and renew. Sister Miriam John, R.G.S. Patterdell 1820 W. Northern Ave. Phoenix, AZ 85021 Indwelling Prayer: Centering in God, Self, Others David J. Hassel, S.J. This article~ is a chapter from a book, Radical Prayer, which Father Hassel hopes soon to publish. An earlier article, "The Feel of Apostolic Contemplation-in-Action," appeared in the issue of May, 198 I. Father continues to reside at Loyola University of Chicago; 6525 North Sheridan Rd.; Chicago, IL 60626. The most radical of all types of prayer may well be indwelling prayer, for its quiet power pulses the movements of all other types of prayer. Indeed, the praying person, carried along by the seeming passivity of indwelling prayer, drifts closer and closer to the inmost self where the~ majestic God waits to welcome him or her warmly. In the attempt to delineate this deepest prayer, the reader's familiarity with various forms of more active prayer will be used as contrasting background for recognizing and appreciating more passive prayer. Some of these more active types of prayer would be: 1) problematic prayer wherein one reviews personal problems with the Lord while expressing various needs arising from them (e.g., peace in a troubled mar-riage, a job sought in the midst of a depressed economy, success in collegiate studies, mental health for a troubled daughter, good weather for the tourist season); 2) insight prayer (meditation): seeing the spiritual meaning of, e.g., a gospel event, a striking sentence in a saint's biography, a friend's casual but penetrating remark, a shocking event witnessed by chance; 3) spaced vocalprayer in which one spaces out the words of a favorite vocal tThe comments of James F. Maguire, S.J., of Edmund Fortman, S.J., and of Mary Ann Hoope, B.V.M., were especially incisive in revising this article for publication. 36 Indwelling Prayer / 37 prayer like the Our Father in order to discover and to reflect upon the fuller meaning of each phrase; 4) gospel contemplative prayer: seeing, hearing, feeling the gospel event as it unfolds in one's imagination; introducing oneself imaginatively into the scene as a friend of the apostles, as a servant girl, as a sick shepherd; 5) petitionary prayer: asking for God's help, e.g., to bring this person back to church, to relieve this person's mental agony, to be able to handle this court case well; 6) liturgicalprayer: the community finding God together in the sacred event of Eucharist, baptism, marriage, anointing of sick, reconciliation of sinners, and so on; 7) affective prayer: wherein feelings of hope, love, fear, anger, and desire (for God, for various virtues for saving situations, for the saints and for friends) operate. These are, of course, not ~all the forms of more active prayer, but they serve to illustrate the meaning of the term more active prayer for our purposes here. Familiarity with these types of more active prayer will later enable one to recognize, by experiential contrast, more passive prayer, and, hence, indwelling ;prayer, the probable source of all types of more passive prayer. Consequently, our first task is not to define abstractly more active prayer against more passive prayer, but instead, to get the "feel" of each by contrasting their diverse types of presence to God, self, and the world. This demands that, in ~/second step, we explore the experience of "presence" and ~ote the paradoxes arising in the presence constitut-ing more passive prayer. Thirdly, we will investigate whether more active and more passive prayer cancel out or nourish each other. In a fourth step, we note how those entering into more passive types of prayer, often undergo the discouraging feeling of prayerlessness, a purifying experience which paradoxically leads into awareness of the indwelling prayer underlying the more passive forms of prayer. At this point, we are finally ready to enter the life-rhythms of indwelling prayer and to search out the ways of doing this trinitarian prayer at the center of our being. Here, too, it should become clear why trinitarian prayer could be the presence underlying all types of prayer. For it reveals death and resurrection at new depths in our being. But for the present let us begin to deal with the diverse presences of more active and more passive prayer. The Diverse Presences of More Active and More Passive Prayer To distinguish more active prayer from more passive prayer is not to abandon one for the other, not to put a premium on one over the other, nor to deny their need of each other. But it is to see how they promote each other and to note how more passive types of prayer are rooted in indwelling prayer. Here definitions can mean nothing if they do not touch our prayer experience, or if they are ambiguous enough to bag together all types of prayer indiscriminately. Therefore we must distinguish these different types of prayer by describing the diverse experiences in which they occur. Let us begin such a process by first trying to discover the root of 311 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 more active prayer. Seven types (among many) of more active prayer were mentioned earlier. Actually all types of more active prayer seem to burgeon out of a single root, a "stretching out to the Lord." What is this stretch? It may well be an attitude towards others which the average good person has. To illustrate this, answer the following questions, and notice what you discover within yourself: i) Why not sleep later than usual today?--Suppose you do inconvenience some people like those in the car pool, like the spouse waiting at the breakfast table, like the other workers in the ,office or at the assembly line, like the students in the classroom? 2) Why pay attention at breakfast to the kids'chatter and the spouse's com-plaints about the leaking roof when the morning paper would be so much more interesting? 3) Why get to work a little bit early in order to get the jump on things so that the day goes better for everyone? 'Why not let others worry about the day? 4) Why help out at this or that emergency when you've got your own job to get done, too? Why not tell them to do the best they can without you since you're busy? 5) Why break off a lively lunch conversation to answer a telephone call or to listen to Henry's usual request for a loan to tide him over the weekend? 6) Why use your midafternoon break for correcting Jenny's letter to the man-ager protesting his failure to put her in charge of the secretary pool? 7) Why correct the kids at the dinner table when it's so much eas'ier to let things go and pretend you didn't see or hear it? 8) When you're dead tired and comfortably waiting for the T.V. news to come on or when you are just starting to relax with a little hi-fi music, why agree to hear the spelling lesson or arbitrate the latest argument betw, een the ten year old and the eleven year oM? 9) Why end and start your day with prayer at the tioes you're most tired? And why go to early Mass on your golf or hairdresser's day and also on Sunday, the only times you can sleep in? In other words, why keep stretching, stretching, stretching through the day unless there is a person waiting at the end of the stretching~ unless there is the Christ or the Father or the Spirit? This refusal to protect yourself from others and from God is a mysterious attitude.'Could it pbssibly be the lure of your vocation, the strength of your friendship with Christ (and therefore with his people, your people)? Could this attitude even be the taproot of 'all the types of more active prayer in your life? Could it even be the basic source of your contentment with life underneath all its irritations, failures, missed opportunities, and dashed hopes? Of course, this "stretch" attitude underlying more active prayer is. buried within one's consciousness and so it can be discovered only through the type of question-ing just completed. Yet is there riot some single directing lure running like'a golden thread through the "stretch" of the day to gi~,e direction and meaning to one's life? Indwelling Prayer And does this thread not lead eventually to the attractive Christ who alone makes fitting sense out of one's life? How can a person stretch out to all the needy unless first God is stretching out to him or her? .Here active prayer is seen as presence to the world and its needs--a presence inspired by Christ's appealing call. It would seem, then, that we may have tapped the root of more active prayer and are now ready to find the source of more passive prayer. More. passive prayer is often defined as a resting in God or a quiet'alertness to God and to others. Thomas Green describes it as "floating freely in th~ sea of God," as allowing God to direct oneself wherever he wills.2 In common with more active prayer, it is a refusal to protect oneself, it is an availability to God and to others. This common element,,hints at a deeper experience underlying both more active and more passive prayer and uniting them. And yet these two types of. prayers are quite different .since more passive prayer is often like a sinking into one's inner depths to find God; while more active prayer is a stretching out to others and to God in others. Even when more passive prayer is awareness of a God-vibrancy in clouds, trees, animals, and people's faces, voices, gestures, it nevertheless is more a stirring in the depths of one's being than a reaching out to touch. Even when one becomes aware of God somehow speaking and acting through the other person, passive prayer is more an alertness within one's own being than the message in the other's'action. Indeed, more passive prayer is, for the most part, careful listening, long waiting, occasionally a soundless crying out to God in his seeming absence. At other times, it is. allowing the Spirit to pray in me to the Father without my having any control; it is letting Jesus invade me totally,in my powerlessness and then .experiencing the resultant clash of fear and gladness within me. , ~ As more passive prayer progresses in the person, it can distill into a simple presenting of the self to the Lord. It is merely a "wanting to be with God" which is often intensified by Eucharistic presence. It is a wordless, thoughtless, imageless facing to .God. It is almost pure presence at the deepest level of experience; while in the upper levels of experience one can be .simultaneously aware of pain in one's posture, of distracting thoughts and images, of feelings of fatigue or elation. But the latter appear negligible compared to the facing of God. Here the praying person is facir~g not only God but also the mystery of presence itself. Perhaps the feeling and meaning of presence hold the key to understanding more passive prayer~ The Experience of Presence: Its Paradoxes in More Passive Prayer What is the "feel" of presence for us? It can be the invigorating experience of knowing that one's father and mother are listening proudly during one's piano 2Thomas H. Green, S.J., When the Well Runs Dr), (Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1978), p. 150. Just as this book is ekcellent for its descriptions of more passive prayer, so his Opening to God (Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1977) describes well more active prayer and delineates simply and directly the basic principles of beginners' prayer. tll~ / Review for Relig!ous, Jan.-Feb., 1982 recital~ or watching eagerly from the basketball grandstands for one's next basket. It can also be the sense of depletion, of sinking heart, when one sees the "enemy" coming into the room, hostile and even malevolent, to observe one's expected failure. Presence can be a sustaining strength in the hospital room. No need for words or for the busy alleviating of pain, just the steady touch of being there. Presence is an enriching moment when the vast anonymity of the great airport terminal'is shattered by a familiar voice calling one's name. Sometimes "absence" can sharpen one's awareness of what presence is. One observes two people talking to each other but neither listening, each waiting impatiently for his or her turn to speak. Absence can be the "freeze" where two people working side-by-side in a bakery or in an office, condemn each other heartily and render the eight-hour day coldly miserable for each other. The politi-cal handshake can be an insult when the state's leader has shaken three hands while still talking to the first hand. Here absence hardly makes the heart grow fonder. Presence, at times, seems to grow without any effort on one's part. Old friends go to the concert together. As soon as the music begins, they~are rapt and seem-ingly totally oblivious to the other. But neither would consider for a moment going to the concert alone. Underneath the silent raptness, their friendship continues to grow quietly--a conclusion proven by a new depth of sharing as they return home amid slow, mulling conversation. Not rarely three friends hike the mountain trails for six to eight hours with only an occasional word and: an almost silent midday lunch. Yet the enjoyment of each other is intense and, underneath the quiet calm, intimacy grows. It would seem that the beauty of music and nature mysteriously sensitizes each person to the other instead of distracting each from the other. This sense of the other's person deepens over the years; familiarity does not always breed co.ntempt. The tight-knit family may have more than its share of private squabbles, but its members have a true sixth sense when one of them is in jeopardy or in deep joy and they quickly arrive to rescue or to rejoice. Such a family, over the years, develops a secret language of grimace, wink, smile and code-words which sum up a lifetime of shared sorrows and laughs; the person of each is uniquely appreciated. The lover of many years still feels a _leap of heart when the beloved comes into the room or when the lover hears the beloved's laugh from the far side of the party chatter. The lover's heart affirms the beloved's "simply being there"---apart from what he or she is saying or doing;just as the two concert-goers and the three hikers are doing more than enjoying music and nature. They find in the being of music and mountains a new way in which to resonate to each other's being, i.e., to grow in the intimacy of friendship. For what is intimacy if not this acquired ability to live deeply with each other, to resonate in each other's very being, in such a way that friends can, on occasion, say to each other: "It doesn't really matter much where we go or what we do so long as we are together." Such intimacy, expressed through quick knowing glance, light caress, exuberant play, and the clasp of hand, perdures and grows at the being-level in emergency rooms, during sweaty decision-times about job and fam- Indwelling Prayer ily, on the beach, at the "graduation ceremonies" of the retarded child, at the birthday parties, within the many hasty breakfasts and more leisurely suppers. From all this, could one say that "presence" is intimacy or mutual resonance at the level of being? If so, then this could reveal much about the dynamics between more active and more passive types of prayer. If presence would be deep awareness of the other's very being, then "the prayer of simple presence" to God could be the praying person's affirming of God's being and God's affirming of the praying person's being. In more passive prayer of simple presence, one becomes aware of Christ and of his interests because one now allows him to enter oneself and one's work at the level of one's very being or personhood? In more passive prayer, God becomes more real for the praying person because the latter lets God be more real, i.e., lets God be Being Itself. The praying person does this by refusing to box up God within her or his own ideas, theories, and expectations. Rather, this person allows God to act in him or her: by remaining passive, he or she gives God time to become more present to the self. Paradoxically, then, more passive prayer renders a person more fully present to God and to self than does more active prayer. Through more passive prayer, the person becomes literally a being-for-God. Indeed, the divine name, Yahweh, comes to mean not merely "I am who am" but also "I am the One who will be for you." Is it possible that at this juncture we have reached that basic attitude of prayer which underlies all other attitudes of prayer? Is this the most radical of all prayers? For this basic attitude is the very being of a person as a "being-for-God." At this point, a second paradox comes into view. In more passive prayer, because the praying person is more present to self and to God at the level of being, he or she can now meet others at their being-level, not just humans but also animals, plants, and even non-vital things like mountains, rivers, fire, and stars. For with the experience of God's tender regard for oneself as unique and undying comes the ability to appreciate others as having unique worth and destiny. It is no wonder, then, that through more passive prayer, the praying person paradoxically becomes more actively present to the whole wide world. Even distant horizons are expanded by the intimate depth at which beings resonate with each other. For this reason more passive prayer renders the praying person more active in works for the family, the neighborhood, the Church--and also more hopeful because more trusting of the Holy Spirit's activity in the self and in others. More passive prayer, in making the perso.n less trusting of his or her own activity apart from God, has enabled the person to become more bold for the Church by 3Karl Rahner speaks of this passivity when describing the conditions of transcendence. "[Transcen-dence] may not be understood as an active mastering of the knowledge of God by one's own power, and hence also as a mastery of God himself. By its very nature subjectivity is always a transcendence which listens, which does not control, which is overwhelmed by mystery and opened up by mystery . Transcendence exists only by opening itself beyond itself, and, to put it in biblical languag,e, it is in its origin and from the very beginning the experience of being known by God himself" (Foundations of Christian Faith [New York: Seabury, 1978], p. 58). 42 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 allowing God to enter the self and to power the latter's actions. This is where personal vanity becomes reduced and the confidence in self-sacrifice gets increased. Evidently, the more passively praying person is more consciously a "being-for- God" and more clearly sees God as "I am the One who will be for you." The Differences Challenge and Nourish Each Other At this point having described more active and more passive prayer for them-selves, we are now in position to etch out their differences and to discover why these two types of prayer are called "more active" and "more passive" rather than simply active and passive prayer. It would appear that more active prayer is more conceptual than its counterpart, that is, more concerned with ideas and insight. It is also more creatively imaginative as it deals with plans of action, options for decisions, visions for the future, ambitions for the present. Again, more active prayer is more consciously integrative around a central idea or insight: "As 1 see it, the one great value in life is . "or "The central theme in my prayer is . " It is more apt to try to control: "We could set up this system of priorities, then get that done immediately; then . " It is more energetic, that is, more work oriented, more prone to gathering achievements. Finally, it is more bodily, because action in the world is incarnated through the body. On the other hand, more passive prayer is more affective than conceptual, more conscious of feelings for the other and in the other; therefore; it is more value oriented than vision enthralled. It is also more receptive than creative in its use of the imagination; thus, art and nature speak out more clearly and enter more movingly into the person praying more passively. It is more integrative by person or spirit than by idea: "This person loves me and so 1 can take the hard knocks ahead," or "1 don't quite understand her plan, but I trust her and will do what she says," Indeed, more 'passive prayer is, strangely, more spontaneous than con-trolled; it is more disturbing, more surprising, more dangerous to a person's careful selfishness. One says more often: "This happening in prayer wa~ a rather unex-pected revelation for me; I'm not sure 1 like this turn of events." Again, in more passive prayer there is more waiting, more expectancy, more sharp listening: "Nothing seems to be happening for days, and then boom ."Finally, it is more soulful in its reflective sinking into the self to find God. It should be clearer now that one must name these two types of prayer more active and more passive lest we split the personality of prayer. For both types are active and both are passive but with different emphases. For example, both use concepts, imagination, and feelings; but more active prayer is more conceptual than affective and the reverse is true of passive prayer. More active prayer deals more often with the creative imagination and more passive prayer works more often with the receptive imagination; but both types of prayer, working' in one and the same imagination, use not only the creative but also the receptive function of the imagination. All this would seem to point to their radical unity, especially since in both types the praying person has the intent not to prote,ct and to comfort the self but rather Indwelling Prayer / 43 to be available to God and to his people. Indeed, it would appear that either type of prayer would go slack and die without the appropriate challenge of the other type: Without the "stretch" of more active prayer, more passive prayer could wallow deep in the self and even forget God, much more his people. Without the "reflective sinking into being" of more passive prayer, more active prayer can end up in such a welter of action that the "stretch" could one day shred into a thousand loose strands of frenetic, superficial activities having no center of being, no rever-ence for others, no undying future. But actually, both types of prayer can challenge and nourish the other. More active prayer is concerned with "putting it all together," with having the world make final sense, so that the world is somehow under control. More active prayer works that the praying person may "have it all together," may be totally integrated as a wholesome person, not fragmented or tormented, so that the praying person may control her or his destiny. On the other hand, more passive prayer forces the praying person to face the fact that he or she is a being totally dependent on God whom he or she must trust in the midst of personal fragmentation and of a world gone awry~ More active prayer wants the resurrection now and the beatific vision now just as they are promised in every love song; in all ~great poetry and drama, and in the apocalyptic literature of the Bible. In contrast, more passive prayer demands that the praying person wait and listen, become excruciatingly aware of shortcomings and sins within one's being or personhood, know his or her absolute powerlessness to do anything worthwhile apart from God, be content for now with much less than immediate resurrection and beatific vision. Neither prayer denies the truth of the other's intent; neither claims to have all the truth, but each challenges the other to greater realism about self, God, and the world. Each depends on the challenge of the other as more active prayer aims at total wholesomeness of self and world in God and as more passive prayer aims at enduring the fragmentation of self and dislocation of world until God heals them both~ There is, however, more than challenge between the two types of prayer. Each nourishesand promotes the other. The more active forms of prayer (e.g., the seven mentioned earlier) lead into the more passive forms of prayer, which in turn.root more deeply the ensuing more active forms of prayer. For example, meditative or mental prayer focuses the praying person's powers on particular objects such asan event of Christ's life, Mary's motherhood of the Church, the mystery of the Eucharist, God's plan for the individual or gr
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Review for Religious - Issue 30.2 (March 1971)
Issue 30.2 of the Review for Religious, 1971. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITOR Everett A. Diederich, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 6i~ Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 631o3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania tgxo6. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building ; 539 North Grand Boulevard ; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright (~) 1971. by REvmw Fog RELIO~OUS. Printed in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at Baltimore, Maryland and at additional mailing offices. Single copies: $1.25. Sub-scription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year, $11.00 for two years; other countries: $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order paya-ble to REvmw Yon RELtOtOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REvmw yon RELIOIOU!L Change of address requests should include former address. - Renewals and new subscriptions should be sent to REvmw FOR RELIOIOUS; P. O. Box I 110; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Manuscripts, editorial correspondence, and books for re-view should be sent to REvIEw FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. MARCH 1971 VOLUME 30 NUMBER 2 BROTHER THOMAS MORE, C.F.X. Religious: Partners for Justice and Peace Within the past few years, Pope Paul VI has established January 1 as a World Day of Peace. For 1971 he has selected the theme: "Every man is my brother." To enlist the support of religious institutes, the Holy See recently sent a document to" all superiors general stating that the World Day of Peace should transcend the limits of a simple celebration and really bring to the world the message of Christ's love. This Day of Peace is an invitation for an examination of conscience; it is an exhortation not to judge or condemn others, but to find out how much we ourselves as individuals and as mem-bers of society are accomplices of evil in this world; it is a means of making us more aware that we are and ought to be the guardians of our brothers. As religious by the very nature of their profession are orientated towards their fellow men, they have special motives for making this examination of conscience. Pious practices are not sufficient to make us good Christians. Christ Himself told us that we shall be judged by our attitudes and acts towards our fellow men. Nor is it suffi-cient that we be on good terms with our fellow religious. In this age, with the mass media keeping us informed about what is going on throughout the world, we cannot say to the Lord: "Where did we see you hungry, or naked, or" in prision. ?" The theme for 1971 looks beyond the present state of hostility in the world to the root of war--a failure to understand the yearning for the recognition of basic human rights by men in all parts of the world to escape from hunger, misery, disease, discrimination, and igno-rance. As long as this festering condition exists in any part of the world, there will always be the threat of war, violence,- and unrest. Perhaps nowhere else have the hopes of this part of mankind been better expressed than in Pope Paul's own Brother Thomas More, C.F.X., is su-perior general of the Xaverian Broth-ers; Via Antonio Bosio0 5; 00161 Rome, Italy. VOLUME 30, 1971 161 ÷ ÷ ÷ T. More~ C.F.X. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS blueprint for peace, Populorum progressio: "Freedom from misery, ~he greater assuranceof finding subsistence, health and fixed employment; an increased share of re-sponsibility without oppression of any kind and in se-curity from situations that do violence to their dignity as men; better education--in brief, to seek to do more, know more and have more; that is what men aspire to now when a greater number of them are condemned to live in conditions that make their lawful desire illusory." It is these men and women in particular whom'the Holy Father wants us to see in the light of Christian charity as our brothers. For only when we do believe them to be our brothers can we be deeply concerned about their struggle to obtain their freedom. This struggle for freedom is given greater emphasis if it is looked at within the framework of three contem-porary issues that are on the front stage of our history. The first is that 20% of the people living in the Atlan-tic world command about 75 to 80% of the world's in-come, investment, and trade. This statement becomes more than a matter of statistics when we realize that the society within this 20% contains a large number of professed followers of Christ who are the inheritors of a Christian tradition. But within this society, "Christianity is invoked in order to lead a sort of crusade against communism. Christianity is invoked in order to combat the wave of hatred, deeprooted re-sentment and terror which is rising everywhere. The 20% who let 80% stagnate in a situation which is often sub-human-- what right have they to allege that communism crushes the human spirit? The 20% who are keeping 80% in a situation which is often sub-human--are they or are they not responsible for the violence and hatred which are beginning to break out all over the world?" x If these words seem to ring with the exaggerated rheto-ric of a prophet, they do come from the heart of a bishop in an underdeveloped section of Brazil to awaken us from complacency. The second contemporary issue is the influence of the younger generation in movements for social justice and peace. It is almost universally agreed that this young generation has a feeling of oneness in human develop-ment and is alive to the increasingly international char-acter of human events.~ Also among the young is a new 1 Helder Camara, "Development Projects and Concern for Struc-tural Changes," IDOC, North American edition, May 23 1970, p. 20. 2John Tracy Ellis notes that in the transformation of the Catholic Church's leadership in the United States from a passive to an active adherence to the social papal encyclicals of John XXIII and Paul VI, the Church had the advantage of the "radically different ap-proach to war and peace" of students in the Catholic colleges, uni-versities, and seminaries, "the vast majority of whom were much radicalism which questiOnS strongly, often violently, the priorities and standards inside the economy and struc-tures of the Atlantic world. "If, say the young, this is the ultimate fine flower of our commercial industrial civiliza-tion, it might be better to blow it up and start again." a The third current issue is the growing awarenegs that we live in a village world, that we belong to a world community. We are all becoming alive to the increasingly inter-national character of human events and associations. There has been a great stir~:ing of conscience on the sub-ject of world poverty in the midst of plenty, on the ques-tion of world peace, and in the matter of racial discrimi-nation, wherever it may be practiced. This stirring of conscience and the awareness of the repercussion of global events have helped to break down parochial and national barriers. People everywhere are catching the vision that sees any deprivation of human rights as a universal crisis that profoundly disturbs the world community. Within this contemporary framework of an unbalanced world economy, the influence of the young generation in social justice and peace movements, and the search for world community, the Holy Father's theme for 1971 has a particularly strong appeal for religious. There is abundant evidence that religious in the United States are aware of these three contemporary issues and of the major social ills of our times. The fol-lowing suggestions and reflections are made as contribu-tion to this growing involvement of religious in arousing the People of God to promote development, justice, and peace in a world where "Every man is my brother." Peace As professed disciples of Christ, we cannot limit our horizon to the internal concerns of our community life. As members of a religious institute, we cannot be satisfied with the missionary efforts of a few of our members in developing countries. Perhaps there was a time when people could feel at ease when they had prayed for peace. In our days, we have an inescapable responsibility not only to pray but also to do something for peace in the world. Peace is an involved and sometimes painful question. It touches us on the emotional level because of our racial, national, religious, social, or educational background, or more sensitive to the papal teaching on peace than their parents and grandparents had been" (American Catholics and Peake [Washing-ton: Division of World Justice and Peace, USCC, 1970], p. 14). a Barbara Ward, The Angry Seventies (Rome: Pontifical Commis-sion of Justice and Peace, 1970), p. 44. + + + Justice and Peace VOLUME 30, 1971 163 ÷ ÷ T. More, C.F.X. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 164 because of other more or less conscious motivations. For the.objective education of ourselves, our communities and those whom we serve in Our apostolates, we have to make a continuous effort to overcome these all too human feelings. We must likewise try to avoid all blind spots of emotional prejudice which prevent us from seeing the real issues. One of the first things to be done .is to seek informa-tion in order to build up a solid basis for judgment. To refuse, either emotionally or through sheer indifference, to become informed is certainly one of those sins of omission which the renewed liturgy has most appropri-ately called again to our attention. The constitution Gaudium et spes (n. 82) gave us a lofty ideal when it stated that "it is our duty to prepare, by all possible efforts, the time when all war can be com-pletely outlawed by international consent." Too often we are not aware of the moral influence which we, as individuals or as a group, can exercise on the political level. War is one'of the major moral concerns of our day --what is our attitude toward war in general? Do we know and appreciate the theoretical and practical impli-cations of moral theories on war and on the use of vio-lence? Does the traditional "just war" theory still hold in our times when the powers of destruction are apocalyptic? Gaudium et spes continues: "Those who are dedicated to the work of education, particularly of the young . should regard as their most weighty task the effort to form the minds of all to the acceptance of a new spirit of peace. Every one of us should have a change of heart." Those religious engaged in the apostolate of education have the opportunity and the duty to give practical direction in this area. In particular cases there should be discussions with students and parents on the implications of "conscientious objection," passive civil resistance, and other controversial attitudes towards war, social injustice, and the like. Moreover, as citizens we have our political rights and duties. On some occasions this may require forthright speech and action, after mature consideration, even against decisions made by the highest authorities. We all respect the attitude of a man like Dietrich Bonhoeffer and of others under the Nazi regime, or of some modern Soviet authors, or of. a man like Hekler Camara. Great and at times heroic courage is needed by such people to stick to their most profound convictions and to suffer for them. In a democratic society similar courage can sometimes be needed. One can appreciate, for instance, the moral fortitude of the American Jesuit provincials who, in a letter to all United States senators, on May 21, 1970, expressed their deep concern about the recent de-velopments in the Vietnam war. Development and Justice We must show every man the esteem, the respect, and love which he deserves as a member of the human family and as a being created by God and the object of His love. We must concern ourselves with the full human develop-ment of the world, to take a global view of mankind and of the human race, to see ourselves as members of a planetary village, where "Every man is my brother." Religious cannot be less sensitive than the younger generation to the worldwide and national obstacles to social justice; nor can they fail to see in these committed young people their fellow brothers and sisters who may be showing religious that evangelical poverty can be the purest expression of Christian liberality. In every religious institute there have been community and chapter debates on evangelical poverty. Some think it has lost its meaning or that it has no place in contem-porary society. But before reaching such conclusions, the individual religious or the community involved should remove from the scene all those obvious unnecessary forms of middle-class comfort upon which so many of them may depend. Perhaps a few bold steps in experi-encing how poor people live might also be considered. Communities and provinces could include special de-velopmen~ projects in their budgets.4 It may then hap-pen that religious will discover alternate options to settling down to a comfortable middle-class existence. This process of "settling down," with its subsequent bourgeois acceptance of a comfortable and secure living, is a corporate sin which religious can fall victim to against the spirit of poverty. And this lack of the spirit of evangelical poverty can prevent religious from being sensitive to the social ills of our society. The greater awareness in our times of belonging to a world community parallels the movement within the re-ligious life for a greater understanding of gommunity. If fuller participation in community is evangelical, if it is the forum 'in which the hope of the Resurrection and the appreciation of the present realities are held in ten-sion, then it will predispose religious to take a global vision of mankind and of the human race. This vision ought certainly to be one of the first fruits of the new religious community. *See Louis G. Miller, C.Ss.R., "The Social Responsibility of Re-ligious," REWEW fOR REI.~CIOUS, v. 29 (1970), pp. 658-61, for a practical suggestion for practicing social consciousness on the prov-ince level by investing funds to alleviate the pressing social crisis in our times. 4- 4- Justice and Peace VOLUME 30, 1971 165 ÷ T. More, .F.X. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 166 Provincial and general chapters need to discuss those issues which profoundly affect the world community and national communities, with the hope that as they face their own internal problems, they will also turn toward those which lie at the heart of our contemporary society. Some of these issues are: racism, minority groups and. human rights, nationalism, .conscientious objection, the so-called theory of "just war," and disarmament in our era of nuclear weapons and missiles. Religious should continue to serve the Third World through their missionary work. However, this commit-ment ought to be incorporated into the new thinking on evangelization-development now taking place in many secular and religious assemblies. As Father Philip Land, s.J., of the Pontifical Commission of Justice and Peace pointed out recently to the superiors genera.1 in Rome, one of the chief contributions religious can make is to un-derstand the development debate, increase their com-mitment to the UN's Second Development Decade, and integrate the activity of their congregation into this global project. As an example of the need to understand the devel-opment debate, Father Land pointed out that real challenges confront religious as regards developing and developed countries in the area of education. With re-gard to the former, it is widely argued that Christian schools produce an education that simply ties their stu-dents to the existing power structures; with regard to the latter, it is questioned whether our schools produce an education conducive to the structural changes the poor nations rightly demand. The final suggestion is that made by Monsignor Joseph Gremillion, Secretary of the Pontifical Commis-sion of Justice and Peace, to a recent assembly of su-periors general: "The initiatives of religious are abso-lutely vital everywhere. Even though conferences of bishops might take certain responsibilities, it is essential that 'free movements' and individual leadership be ex-ercised-- a~d often this is provided by religious, men and women, as chaplains, inspirers, educators, anima-tors." "Every man is my brother": In choosing this theme, the Holy Father's aim is to help people to become aware of the unity of the human family, and thereby to favor a deeper and more sincere solidarity between men by removing from their manner of acting every form of discrimination based on distinction of race, color, cul-ture, ethnic origin, sex, social class, or religion. Are we prepared to play our part for a better, a more human, a more Christian world? JEAN LECLERCQ, O.S.B. Culture and the Spiritual Life I. THE MEDIEVAL MONASTIC TRADITION Learning and the culture which results from it refine a personality by helping it to acquire certain values of humanity which make up the fund of the commonwealth of human nature. In the Middle Ages these were never isolated from a man's religious living: they became part and parcel of his initiation to Holy Scripture, spiritual reading, meditation, prayer; they were determining fac-tors in a man's search for God, a search which, at all times, implies an ascesis not only for the inquiring mind, the intelligence, but for every one of man's faculties. These human values are not independent; they are an-cillary to the more noble values of a sacred humanity, that is, of a human nature and condition penetrated with the grace of Jesus Christ, transformed by the Holy Spirit, and consecrated, set apart for the Father in the Church. For the men of the Middle Ages who sought after God, Christian humanism meant something more than mere assimilation of culture; it implied the growth and self realisation of the person in the totality of his values: the raw material of human nature was never separated from the refining effect of Christian living. Certainly, culture and language had an important part to play in this process of fructification; but they did not, of themselves, bring it about. They favored the assimi-lation of profane literature and allowed the scholar to discern those experiences which were susceptible of being transformed and thus raised to the level of his own lived Christian reality, the level at which he became and real-ized himself by union with God. Thus in order to under-stand the humanism of these Medieval monks we must try to discover the specifically Christian experience lying behind the terms of a language inherited from masters of pagan antiquity. We have, as it were, to guess the per-sonal experience, the desire for God experienced by each + + + Jean Leclercq, O.S.B., is a monk of Clervaux Ab-bey in Luxem-bourg, Europe. VOLUME 30, 1971 16'/ lean Leclercq REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 168 writer who loved learning; we must endeavor to unveil in some way the Medieval monastic writer's intimate being in presence of God. Conflicts and Solutions But once we start trying to do this, we perceive the presence of two conflicting parties. According to the degree of sensitivity of a given Medieval period, this conflict situation is experienced more or less keenly, more or less clearly, and expressed more or less frequently in the texts. But the two parties of the conflict are con-stantly in presence and are mutually conditioning. The first conflictual element is the relationship to be established between the spiritual life and the profane realities which one met with when learning Latin; the problem with which students had to grapple was how to remain Christian and become even more so by contact with pagan values expressed in ancient literature. The second element is situated in the sphere of impact be-tween man's fallen state and the nobleness of human nature: man has personal experience of concupiscence waging within him; his experience tells him that he is capable of sinning, and that he actually does sin; but he knows too that he is endowed with a real "capacity" for God--the Medieval man firmly believes that he is capable of throwing open his being to the divine pres-ence, and even that God does already dwell within him. Divided as he is, how can man recover his unity? Let it be noticed that the experience of this conflict situation was not the monopoly of monks: it is inherent to our human condition. The solution to this problem lies, now as then, in the encounter of God and man in Jesus Christ, and in the union between man and his Savior. Yet if we judge by the number of witnesses and their spiritual density, it seems that it was more keenly experienced, in a more privileged manner as it were, in monastic circles. Elsewhere, pastoral or temporal activi-ties distracted the attention. But in the cloisters, there was nothing to alleviate the inner combat; the monk constantly kept the whole of his existence focused on a search for the presence of God. His method was prayer. Nothing hollows a man out as much as the activity of prayer; nothing more than prayer makes him fathom the depths of his own abyss; in prayer man comes up against his own void, he experiences the need he has of God. We see, then, that monks were in the ideal conditions for suffering this conflict more keenly than their fellowmen. They expressed it more frequently than others outside the cloister, but it has always been the common lot of humanity. And humanism is nothing else than th'is conjunction of a given experience and a given culture in a single person. The higher this experience and this culture are, the more the person develops his human capacities. It is not a ques-tion here of mere literary varnish, but of a profound en-richment on the level of the intimate depths where a man meets his God. The humanism of the Medieval monks supposes this alliance of culture and the spiritual life, with all that this implies in ascesis and prayer. The mon-astery offered the means for acquiring culture, and the religious experience which the inmates underwent pro-vided an objective for this culture; the monastery was the workshop, so to say, where man, by the instrumen-tality of culture, attained, over and beyond culture itself, to union with God. The Drama of Christian Humanism Having once grasped the fact of the conflict which the Christian humanist, within and without the cloister, had to overcome, it will be suspected that harmony was not established without a certain drama. And Medieval mo-nastic texts confirm our suspicions. Always, we find the conjunction of the two inalienable elements of Christian experience provoked by honest and cultured reading of Holy Scripture. These two elements are ~emptation and hope: the latter is always predominant and has the last word. Why? Because, as one Medieval writer reminds us: Stat Iesus et dicit.--Jesus is there and He speaks to us. That is just what humanism is: an experience of Jesus Christ present in man. In order to taste, to savor, ~the reality behind words we must not only read but also live. You notice that reading, learning is a primary condition of any religious experience and the result is always inner peace. Between the beginning, the abc, and the end lies a long struggle to be waged between the different values, a struggle between contrary tendencies. Many acts of this drama are painful, but it always ends in light and peace. This supreme and perfect realization of-man, of hu-manism, is none other than the perfect accomplishment of the Incarnation: there is no more lofty humanism than that which leads to perfect union of man with God. In reading some Medieval authors one is tempted to say that for them there is a sort of humanism in God shown by divine care for man which goes so far as to assume humanity into the divinity. The kernel of such a theol-ogy is the justification of the humano-divine situation, the justification of the passion and death of Christ in function of man's reconciliation with God. And what strikes us in Medieval works structured round such theol-ogy is that often, though major stress is laid on God's honor and glory, the primacy of man and his salvation in the divine economy is dominant. For certain Medieval + ÷ + Culture VOLUME 30, 1971 ]69 ÷ ÷ ~ean Leclercq REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS theologians it is essential to God's honor and glory that mankind whom he has destined for eternal happiness should be saved. Conclusion Throughout the Middle Ages, the problem in mon-asteries and other Christian seats of learning was not to say "yes" or "no" to culture, but to discern the correct use to be made of it. The monks took the risk of ac-quiring culture, they saw the danger; they overcame the risk in the strength of humility and ascesis: their courage led them to love. Let us, in a sort of review of the conflict situation, see how monks were victorious in suffering and joy. The texts left by Medieval monks prove that it was no imaginary struggle; they help us to grasp the concrete, real, even existential nature of the conflict in the student --it was a struggle for purity of heart and purity of body. It was a real personal problem that the student had to solve; nothing could be further removed than this from a merely speculative, a so-called objective attitude with regard to profane realities. The problem was real and acute. The solution could only be found in Jesus Christ in whom one of the divine Persons, belonging to another world, lived in a man of our own world. The Last Supper and the Resurrection are absolute and undeniable reminders that Christ's pres-ence in this world appropriates even the physical ele-ments of man. And the Medieval person is always per-ceived in a triple relationship to a second self--a superego (t3ber-Ich), a self-surpassing self, if we may so say--to God and His kingdom, and to man's place in this king-dom. Now the ego surrenders itself to a superior power, not, as might be thought, by emptying self of sell but in liberating the potentials for self-surpassing which it con-tains. The aim is not to seek one's own advantage-~one's own pleasure or glory--but to renew the experience of those whom the Bible tells us encountered God, before being in a position to manifest Him. The glory of a creature is to serve the Creator, to refer to Him; and this man is able to do because God has endowed him with reason. Man is not centered on himself but on God, and the Medieval monk cannot construct a doctrine of man on any other foundation than his relationship to God. The monk exists as an individual, and he knows it, he experiences the truth of this reality in moments of temp-tation and on every occasion where he becomes conscious of himself; yet he knows too that he is not autonomous in the sense that he could have any worth independently of God; the monk's self-realization, the development of his personality as such could never be his sole objective nor sut:fice to make him totally happy. There thus coexist in him at all times, and sometimes in a manner which we find baffling, on thb one hand that which is specific to his human nature--his failings, but also his capacity for reasoning, for critical reflection-- and on the other hand faith in a mystery which he cannot grasp, and even belief in the marvelous. The Medieval religious man knows that he carries within himself both greatness and pettiness; heis a sinner, but God comes to meet him, and he in turn goes towards God. The en-counter is perfected in Christ who, as God, created man in the cosmos, and as man situated Himself in this same cosmos. The encounter between God and His sinful crea-ture is also accomplished in the man who lives united to Christ. The Christian man is already, in the kingdom of Christ, a homo caelestis--but not entirely so. Para-doxically, carnal man has still to become the heavenly man which he already is. This transformation, this meta-noia, can only be accomplished within him by the daily fight, by a constant and daily conversion to the Lord. The perfect man, he who is already totally re-formed, even transformed, transfigured, is none other than the saint: from this point of view, it is easy to understand why hagiography has such an important place in Me-dieval monastic historiography. Lastly, just as he is attracted by heaven--which he likes to represent as being open, on the occasion of theophanies for example--the humanist in the monastic Middle Ages is on friendly terms with everything created: the cosmos and animals which he tends to idealize. There is a tension within him, between his own self and the world in its two aspects, earthly and yet already sanctified, and in this sense, heavenly. The solution to all these at-tractions, tendencies, and tensions lies in the mystery of the cross which is figured in medieval representations as a symbol of struggle and victory: in hoc signo. Sometimes the cross is framed by a low doorway, the narrow gate which at once separates and unites, and by which one has to pass freely of one's own will by liberating self, by shaking off something of self --- this is the narrow gateway beyond which we can find self again, and with self every-thing else once sacrificed but now bathed in light. II. A CONTEMPORARY MODEL But now, in order to step beyond Medieval history, let us see how such an ideal can be lived in our own desac-ralized and profane twentieth century. There are many examples of men ~ind women who ally culture with the spiritual life sometimes attaining to high sanctity on the university campus--always under the sign of the cross ÷ ÷ ÷ Culture VOLUME 30, 1971 of Christ. The example we choose to quote here is none other than Edith Stein: the scholar and the saint, as she has been called. Witnesses are never more eloquent than in the testimony of their lives, often translated, in the case of men and women of learning, into writing. We can do no better than let Edith Stein speak for herself in a few carefully selected texts. As we read through her works we notice that there is one major generating principle of energy--a unified ex-istence in which the many activities are brought together as a single unit tending to the one thing necessary to the Christian humanist: the knowledge of Christ crucified and his all-pervading dynamic presence in professional and private life. Edith Stein had grasped this principle. After having spent Holy Week of 1928 at the Benedictine Abbey of Beuron, she wrote: Passiontide and Easter are not meant to express simply a transitory festive mood quickly submerged in the daily hum-drum; no, they are the divine power living in us, which we take with us into our professional life so that it may be leavened by it. This oneness, this unity between apparently contradic-tory, even paradoxical elements of an existence seems to be a characteristic of Edith Stein--the passion and the cross are a single divine power, the fulcrum by which she raised the deadweight of daily humdrum existence. There was a constant dialectic tension within her, a continuous striving to reconcile on a higher level--that of union with God--the realities of life, at home, in school, or on the campus. It is evident that this harmonious unity was not at-tained without a persevering ascesis in order to face squarely and solve peacefully the dilemmas roused by the co-existence of the love of learning and an ardent desire for God. In the present context we cannot develop the matter as fully as we should like; we shall merely illus-trate how Edith Stein harmonized four very important dialectic tensions. + + + Jean Leclereq REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 172 i. Harmony between the Spiritual and the Intellec-tual Life In February 1928 she wrote: Of course religion is not just something for a quiet corner and a few hours of leisure; it must be the root and ground of all life, and this not only for a few chosen ones, but for every true Christian. (of whom, indeed, there is always only a small number). It was through St. Thomas that I first came to realize that it is possible to regard scholarly .work as a service of God. Immediately before, and a long ome after my conversion, I thought living a religious life meant to abandon all earthly things and to live only in the thought of the heavenly realities. Gradually I have learned to understand that in this world something else is demanded of us, and that even in the con-templative life the connexion with this world must not be cut off. Only then did I make up my mind to take up scholarly work again. I even think that the more deeply a soul is drawn into God, the more it must also go out of itself in this sense, that is to say into the world, in order to carry the divine life into it. This text shows that Christian humanism is not the pri-vate property of scholars, it is incumbent on every Chris-tian. We also notice that learning, scholarly work, is a service of God. In other letters Edith Stein states the con-ditions for maintaining the balance of power between the spiritual and the intellectual. The keyword is sim-plicity. The scholar has to be simply content with the conditions of life; he has not to be anxious about many and superfluous things. We might almost say that he has to take life as it comes. This is detachment, another con-dition which Edith Stein considered essential for the truly Christian humanist--detachment from earthly riches, but also detachment from spiritual goods: she teaches that we must not be anxious about times for praying---each one must pray according to the possibilities of his professional commitments. Nevertheless a portion of the day should be set apart for God. Edith Stein writes: The chief thing is first to have a quiet corner where one can converse with God as if nothing else existed, and this every day. The early morning seems to me the hest time for this, before the daily work begins. Further, I think, this is where one re-ceives one's mission, preferably for each day, without choosing anything oneself. Lastly, one should regard oneself entirely as an instrument, especially those powers with which one has to work, for example in our case one's reason--I mean as an in-strument which we do not use ~urselves, but God in us. 2. Harmony between the Intellectual Li[e 'and'Every-day Life The scholar must not live shut up in his study from morning to night. The humanist, the Christian scholar, is a person closely linked with human values in and around him; he should have contacts with the world of his fellow men if his learning is to be really a service of God. Christian Iearning, like prayer from which it should never be separated, is a diacony. Here again, Edith Stein has left principles of unifying action, theory which was practiced in her own existence as a scholar, within and without the cloister. She was well aware of the danger of intellectual aloofness as she shows by this extract from an article published in 1931: All of us who live in the universities absorb a little of the "type ot~ the intellectual". But we must be quite clear that this attitude separates us from the crowds. Outside people bat-tle with the daily needs of life in their manifold forms. As soon as we go out they confront us . We are placed among people ÷ ÷ ÷ Culture 173 whom we are meant to help in their needs. They ought not to think of us as strange beings living in an inaccessible ivory tower. We must be able to think, feel, and speak like them, if they are expected to have confidence in us . The intellectual can find the way to the people--and without finding it he can-not guide them---only if, in a certain sense, he frees himself" from the intellect. Here again we notice the principles of Christian soli-darity, humanity, service, and detachment: freedom from self for others. ÷ ÷ ÷ lean Leclercq REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 174 3. Harmony between Traditional Culture and Con-temporary Mentality This third dilemma is by no means the least which the modern scholar has to face.For Edith Stein, the patron of existentialism, as she has been called, it meant balance between the past and the present. The favored disciple of Husserl, translator of Aquinas, had to find a way of living progress; she had to realize the Bergsonian principle of progress: the past which advances and amplifies in the present as it'becomes the future. Her well-defined meth-odological principles (betraying an ascetically trained mind) enhanced and structured her art as a teacher and show how she combined the past and the present: Wherever scholastic arguments are our point of departure, we shall first present them in scholastic terminology. But in order to ascertain that we have grasped the actual sense of the matter, and are not just playing about with words, we shall seek to find our own terms, in which to render the pas-sages in question. While doing this we want to think together with the old masters in a vital manner; but not only with the old masters, but also with those who have resumed the ques-tion in their own way in our time . This is the necessary way especially for the present author, whose philosophical home is the school of Edmund Husserl, and whose native tongue, as far as philosophy is concerned, is the language of the phenomenologists. These only too few texts give us a glimpse of the mind and thought of Edith Stein. They hint at the way in which she strove to attain union with God through books and without alienating herself from her fellowmen. Any who is familiar with the work and life of Edith Stein knows that the application of these principles was not always easy: Edith Stein willed her way to holiness as a scholar; hers was no haphazard chance: she collaborated with divine grace with all the ardor of her semitic heart. EXISTENTIAL EXPERIENCE Nothing. happens by chance. Edith Stein contests the formula of Heidegger thrown into existence. In dense and direct sentences she attacks the weak spot of his ex-istentialist philosophy, she attacks the Geworfenheit: With this is expressed above all that man finds himself in existence, without knowing how he has come there . But with this the question of the "whence" has not been abolished. How-ever violently one may try to silence it or to forbid it as sense-less, it always rises again irresistibly from the peculiarity of hu-man being demanding a Being that is both the foundation of the former and its own foundation, needing no other, demand-ing the One who throws that which is "thrown." And with this the "being thrown" is revealed as creatureliness. In this text Edith Stein reveals herself to be truly a humanist: she has a keen and penetrating vision of the human situation. She writes with even greater acuity: The nothingness and transitoriness of its own being becomes clear to the Ego, if it takes possession of its own being by thought . It also touches it. through fear (Angst), which accompanies unredeemed man through life in many disguises ¯. but in the last resort as fear of his own non-being . How-ever, fear is not normally the dominant sensation (Lebensge- [iihl). This it becomes in cases which we describe as pathologi-cal; but normally we walk in great security as if our being was a certain possession . The reflecting analysis of our being by thought shows how little cause for such security there is in itself., the undeniable fact that my being is transitory., and exposed to the possibility of non-being is matched by the other, equally undeniable fact that, notwithstanding this transitoriness, I am and am kept in being from one moment to the other, and embrace a lasting Being in my transitory be-ing. I know myself held, and in this I have peace and se-curity- not the self-assured security of a man who stands in his own strength on firm ground, but the sweet and blissful se-curity of the child which is carried by a strong arm-~considered objectively, a no less reasonable security . Hence in my being I meet another, which is not mine, but is support and ground of my unsupported and groundless being. The dispositions of the unified soul of Edith Stein are revealed in the text we have just read where we notice the words "great security," "peace and security," "sweet and blissful security." The reason for this happy state does not lie in the Ego, but in the lasting Being whom we encounter when we enter deeply into ourselves. It is this encounter in man of God and man which should be the objective of every Christian scholar today, as in the Middle Ages. How can we come to recognize the supreme Being, He who is, in our own finite being? By reasoning or by faith: the latter was the way of the medieval monks; it was the way, too, of Edith Stein: The security of being, which I sense in my transitory being, points to an immediate anchoring in the last support and ground of my being . This is, indeed, only a very dark sensing, which one can hardly call knowledge . This dark sensing gives us the Incomprehensible One as the inescapably near One, in whom we "live and move and have our being," yet as the Incomprehensible One. Syllogistic thinking formu-lates exact notions, yet even they are incapable of apprehend-ing Him who cannot be apprehended; they rather place Him at ÷ ÷ ÷ Culture VOLUME 30, 1971 a distance, as happens with everything notional. The way of faith gives us more than the way of philosophical knowledge: it gives us the God of personal nearness, the loving and merci-ful One, and a certainty such as no natural knowledge can give. Yet even the way of faith is a dark way. This text shows how very close she was to her own age; she proves here that she allied the heritage of ancient masters with the modern mentality, more intuitive than that of Ancient Greece: the intelligence of Edith Stein was semitic, Biblical and it is this Biblical essence which makes her to be kith and kin with Medieval monastic humanists and scholars. THE SCHOLARLY NUN But there is more than a certain way of apprehending God which links Edith Stein to the monastic thinkers of the Middle Ages. Like them she renounced the secular seats of learning to give herself to God as a nun in a Carmelite convent. At first she gave herself entirely to the humble duties of a beginner in the monastic life; but later on, at the request of her superiors, she began to write and study again. One of her two works concerning mysticism has a very telling title: Kreuzeswissenschaft (Science of the Cross). It was written for the fourth centenary of the birth of St. John of the Cross, and in it we discern the insuffi-ciency of pure philosophical thinking for tackling prob-lems of mystical theology. There, too, we recognize Edith Stein--now Sister Benedicta of the Cross--the philoso-pher whose thought was always structured and subtended by rigorous methodological principles indicative of a dis-ciplined mind. A passage from the preface to Science o[ the Cross reveals this: In the following pages the attempt has been made to grasp John of the Cross from the unity of his being, as it is expressed ~n his life and in his works, from a point of view that makes it possible to envisage this unity . What is said there on the ego, freedom and person, is not derived from the writings of our holy Father John. Though certain points of contact may be found, such theories were remote not only from his leading intention but from his mode of thought. For only modern philosophy has set itself the task of working out a philosophy of the person such as has been suggested in the passages just mentioned. ÷ Once more we recognize the unifying [actor which was + characteristic of her own life; unity of being. And this + leads us to the last dilemma which we wish to mention. $ean Leclercq REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 176 4. Harmony between Personal Experience and Serv-ice The question set here is how to share with others what we ourselves may have received in prayer: how may we legitimately share with Others our own personal experi-ence of God who reveals Himself to mankind? Divine revelation needs to be grasped by the human reason en-lightened by faith. It is faith alone that allows us to suck the honey out of the hard rock of the Scriptures. Learning is a help to deciphei'ing the letters, bfit the real key to Scriptural exegesis is faith contained in a pure heart--blessed are the pure of heart, for they shall see God. But the talent received must not be buried, it must be shared with others. Edith Stein writes: It may also happen that a sort of "office of the keys" is conferred on individuals or groups which have received the gift of Scriptural exegesis . To these spirits is given the office to transmit the light they receive . It is their duty to accept the Divine mysteries. . with. a purified mind .and to take charge of them. Th~s also ~mphes preaching and interpreting the Divine Word. Corresponding ~o the different modes and degrees of hiddenness, there are different modes and degrees of unveiling, degrees of office. Conclusion: The Science of the Cross There could be no better summary of all that has been said in this paper. At all periods, there is only one Chris-tian humanism, one Christian way of uniting love of learning with desire for God: the way of the cross, the narrow door of self-denial, the existential imitation of Jesus Christ, God made Man. When a scholar converts to God, dedicates his whole mind and heart to God in the carrying out of his professional duties of study or teaching, then, and only then, will he be a light shining in the darkness. Edith Stein tells us what she means by sicence of the cross: If we speak of the Science of the Cross, this is not to be understood as science in the ordinary sense: it is no mere theory . It is indeed known truth--a theology of the Cross~ but it is living, actual and active (wirkliche und wirksarne) truth: it is placed in the soul like a seed, takes root in her and grows, gives the soul a certain character and forms her in all she does or leaves undone, so that through this she herself shines forth and is recognized . From this form and force living in the depth of the soul is nourished the philosophy of this man and me way in which God and the world present themselves to him. For Edith Stein, as for every great and holy scholar throughout the ages, faith in God and His mystery are primordial: Where there is truly living faith, there the doctrines of the faith and the great deeds of God are the content of life, every-thing else must take second place and is formed by them. This is holy objectivity (heilige Sachlichkeit): the original interior receptivity of the soul reborn of the Holy Ghost. Whatever is brought to her, this she accepts in the proper way and depth; and it finds in her a living, mobile power ready to let itself be ÷ ÷ ÷ Culture VOLUME -~0, 1971 177 formed, and unhampered by false inhibitions and rigidity . If the mystery of the Cross becomes her inner form, then it becomes the science of the Cross. This science is a night, an absence: if we accept to believe in the divine Crucified then our language is silence for "All speaking about God presupposes God's speaking. His most real speaking is that before which human speech is silenced." ÷ ÷ + lean Leclercq REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 178 MARY-ANGELA HARPER A Layman's Response to Contemporary Religious While post-Vatican II laymen bustle about the business of shaping their new, enlarged role in the contemporary Church, many members of another segment of the People of God, the consecrated religious, without much notice from their lay brothers, are quietlyteari'ng themselves to shreds by agonizing selbcriticism. The general cause of this self-destruction seems to be a fear that traditional religious life is anachronistic both in form and purpose. The only hope for survival, these religious have decided, is radical change. To the laity, this "change" has meant new habits and new names and more frequent socializing. For the reli-gious, the speci.fics of change fall into one of two categor-ies: (a) concern with structures and relationships within the community and (b) concern with the function of reli-gious within the Christian community-at-large. On the one hand, therefore, religious .struggle with such questions as size and government, and with legisla-tion pertaining to prayer, work, recreation, and dress. And they scrutinize themselves as individuals to verify their personal authenticity. The criteria for this verifica-tion are contemporary philosophical and psychological definitions of man which emphasize the affective dimen-sion and the primacy of interpersonal relationships in meaningful human development. On the other hand, religious seek to identify the shape and character of their activities in a newly-valued, post-conciliar world that contemporary theologians recognize as not only redeemed but continually sanctified by Christ who abides within it. A genuine Christian mission, they believe, must be one of real involvement with the nuts and bolts of everyday living and a rubbing of shoulders with lay co-workers in the apostolic field that is the world. To be Christian missionaries, then, religious cannot ÷ ÷ Mary Angela Harper is chairman of the philosophy department; Dun-barton College o[ Holy Cross; Wash-ington, D.C. 20008. VOLUME ~0, 1971 179 4" M. A. Harper REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]80 live a less-than-human existence, above and apart from the rest of men. They must purge religious life of any alienating, stereotyped, and distorted image and of out-moded, restrictive characteristics such as traditional vows and lockstep community exercises. These must be re-placed by a new and more democratic concept of reli-gious community which allows each individual to de-velop his own capacities in freedom and love and by new forms of religious activity that permit creativity, sponta-neity, affectivity, and the celebration of a redeemed hu-manity. And all of this is taking place ~vith relatively little public notice or comment from the lay element of the People of God, for whose sake religious toil, and whose acceptance they seek. But more interestingly, these con-siderations, critical as they have been to religious, are of little pressing concern even to the better informed lay-men, who nnderstand and sympathize with the crisis in religious life. As laymen see it, the effectiveness (and, therefore, justification) of consecrated commitment de-pends not upon what religious wear, or what they are called, or on how they organize their daily lives. The layman primitively and primarily cares that religious con-tinue to achieve their unique, specific and indispensable mission--to point to God. Now surely it is presumptuous, if not absurd, for any-one to assume the position of spokesman for the laity-at-large. Every layman responds to the world and to people and to situations differently, depending upon the varia-ble factors of education, spiritual formation, and per-sonal experience. My own response to contemporary reli-gious is indeed conditioned by each of these factors. But it is also and especially determined by a specific view of our post-Vatican II world. The first statement pertaining to this contemporary Christian Weltanschauung main-tains that existence today is an organic, interpersonal complex, in which all individuals, loyal to their unique identities, nonetheless recognize that the perfection of this identity takes place in a process of completion by others. It is with others that each individual achieves his own identity, and together, by mutual interaction, that all attain the perfection of the whole that is our world. This is the characteristic of complementarity. But equally important is the correlative principle which maintains that this organic, interpersonal universe is sustained and vivified by belief in Christ who is God and in a divine kingdom in which humanity will be absolutely perfected. Authentic existence in the real world of today, then, is a life predicated upon interper-sonal cooperation, but simultaneously upon co-commun-ion in Christ as a pledge of the Parousia. All the People of God are bound together by a recognition of the neces-sity of others, which is reinforced and transfused by Christian love--the giving of the self to achieve the oth-er's perfection in Christ. And each thus con.tributes to the integral and absolute perfection of all in the kingdom of God. Now, if this "new look" of a nearly 21st century world turns on such an enlarged principle of complementarity, and if a meaningfully contemporary Christian world is a complex of Christ-loving, kingdom-seeking, mutually per-fecting human spirits, then distinction and difference is as significant as unanimity and wholeness, because with-out these characteristics, we might achieve fusion, but never complementation. Moreover, a lack of unique perfection in any individ-ual component in this interconnected, organic complex, is a loss, not only to the totum, but to all others as individuals. This was the message of Henri de Lubac ten years ago when he wrote of the Church as the "corporate destiny of mankind," and explained that "in the measure of [each one's] strength and according to his own voca-tion- for the gifts of the one spirit differ, and in the unity of one same body, each member has a different function--leach] will labour heart and soul to achieve it. If he fails fall] will feel it as a wound in [their] own flesh." 1 The uniqueness of the individual contribution gives a specific character to the whole Christian commu-nity which cannot be replaced by another. And the perfection of one is the perfection of all. And this is the message today when we use the term witness to identify the Christian mission in a post-Coun-cil world. William J. Richardson, S. J., has analyzed the contemporary notion of witness~ and notes that it "in-volves a double communion--communion, between the witness and the truth, or person to which/whom he testi-fies; [and also] a communion . between the truth/per-son and the tribunal or persons before whom the witness testifies." This double communion is suggested by the formulae being witness and bearing witness. To be a witness, Father Richardson says, is to be so identified with a person or truth that to deny these would be to deny oneself. Moreover, "the quality of witness will be measured by the intimacy of the union between the witness and the one to whom he testifies, the extent to which they become one." To bear witness is to share this person with other per- ¯ Henri de Lubac, S.J., Catholicism (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1958), p. 31. 2William J. Richardson, S.J., The University and the Formation of the Christian, an unpublished manuscript, copyrighted by the author, 1958. ÷ ÷ Layman's Response to Religious VOLUME 30, 1971 18! ÷ M. A. Harper REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 182 sons. And the result of the sharing is that the witness thereby grows more deeply in the communion himself because, within an interacting complex, he now contacts this reality through the communion of others which was heretofore denied him. All witnesses, therefore, enrich one another within the organic whole that is the testify-ing community, and achieve growth and perfection by an interpenetrating exchange of individual identity and meaning. Should the uniqueness of the individual be less-ened or lost, however, the totum would suffer irreparably. In terms of witness, this presence, this communication of meaning would be denied to the Christian community, which becomes radically impoverished. Now, what is the witness of consecrated religious? What do these men and women offer the Christian community and to each individual within it that is unique and indis-pensable, and without which each of us would suffer? Consecrated religious are witnesses, par excellence, to the Pilgrim Church, and to the truth that the Christian com-munity is, in fact, on its way to Almighty God. As Sidney Callahan has observed in Beyond Birth Con-trol, 3 present existence is 9ctually a life of incomplete-ness; perfection and completed history await the Parou-sia. "Those who choose [consecrated religious lives]", she says, "live the sign of incompleteness, of fulfillment to come, of aspiration to a more complete community and pe.rfect unity." By our own distinctive form of existence, we, the laity, witness to a restored creation which James O'Reilly ex-plains in "Lay and Religious States" 4 reveals "the power and goodness of business, marriage ~nd freedom [to] carry us toward the kingdom." By virtue of their distinc-tive state of life, consecrated religious witness to "the limited character of the goodness of property, of spouse [and] of liberty." ~ They give witness to the truth that although possessions and ownership, marital love and total psycho-physical unity, unlimited movement and op-portunity, are good, God is still better. No matter how intrinsically valuable these considerations may be, they do not suffice of themselves to bring human existence to completion and perfection. This can only be achieved by our releasing control and, in Father O'Reilly's words, letting the world "slip into the hands of God," 6 who saves and completes and perfects. Consecrated religious help us laymen to loosen our hold and to let go. 8Sidney Cornelia Callahan, Beyond Birth Control (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1968), p. 80. ~James O'Reilly, "Lay and Religious States," REviEw fOR REU-GiOOS, v. 27 (1968), pp. 1027-52. Ibid., p. 1051. Ibid. Such a minor miracle is wrought by their reminder to us of our need to be pilgrims. And this they effect by their public vow of total commitment to a communal life manifestly lived in poverty, celibacy, and obedience (or whatever language they choose to signify these realities), which reinforce in us the truth that one gain~ by giving. We, who behold such a commitment, and recognize it as the foundation of all human religious development--and who may even be living these values, though in a less concentrated, less explicit form--we look to religious for inspiration and for guidance. And by their spirit of sim-ple frugality, availability, and openness, they sustain us in our efforts to rightfully enrich this world, and to de-velop and fulfill our human personalities, but with hearts turned heavenward. To this end, religious provide us with a working model of persons-in-c~ommunity and of a united humanity. In the day-to-day liv.ing of this value, they confront us with the actual experience of availability and generosity which reminds us of our need for others, and of our obligation to care and to spend ourselves for one another. By their refusal to seek perfection in isolation, manifesting instead responsibility for others within (and beyond) their com-munity, they instruct us that the meaning of authentic human freedom involves limitation and amounts to de-termined- indetermination. And by refusing to choose those with whom they live on the basis of common inter-ests or congeniality, they instruct us that the comm~unity of man must be a gathering together, not for personal gratification, but rather to share and reenforce one an-other in the love of God. Consecrated religious help us to reconcile apparent conflicts between the human and the divine by their pure, simple, and direct vision, which embraces both man and God in a single gaze. And by their evident spirit of prayer, they redirect our consciousness, not exclusively outward to legitimate worldly cqncerns, but inward to the center of our being, where we contact ourselves most truly, and discover here that our own meaning is rooted in a divine source. And they bring us a joy that seems to us to shine forth from the wellsprings of their personal communion with the divine; and we warm ourselves in its brightness, and feel it, somehow, transform us. Nor are these merely psychological phenomena, wrapped around us like a security blanket. We are, I think, well adjusted, often well educated laymen, quite convinced of our dignity as laymen. We are not having an identity crisis. In fact, quite to the contrary, we have discovered ourselves, and the significance of our roles as mature Christians, for the first time in history. But we also believe in the necessity and intrinsic value of a reli-÷ ÷ ÷ Layman's Response to Religious VOLUME 30, 1971 183 + + 4. M. A. Harper REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]84 gious liIe o[ total commitment to God. We acknowledge the indispensable contribution it makes to the Christian community and sincerely belie;ce that this contribution depends upon the preservation of its unique sign-value. Moreover, we hope that it will be meaningfully and truly implemented. Such "true" implementation, in the mind of the lay-men, involves certain conditions, however. First of all, the laity expect religious to be honestly poor. Such pov-erty the layman does not confuse with destitution, but rather understands as involving what the Duquesne Uni-versity Institute of Man program refers to as a "respectful use and celebration of things natural and cultural as gifts of the holy." We appreciate the fact that books, facilities, time, and recreational opportunities are necessary for the religious to function professionally. But we also expect evidence of what Ladislas M. Orsy, S. J. calls "the effica-cious desire to give away [everything] in the name of God's kingdom." 7 All this world's bounty,, therefore, could be employed naturally, intelligently, and happily, but with the evident and effective intention of always viewing the acquisition and use of created goods (including the self) in the con-text of community. Moreover, this intention would em-brace a life-style modeled on that of Christ Himself, whose life was one of frugal simplicity, of reverence for creation, and of availability to all men. Secondly, the laity respond appreciatively to the celi-bate state when it is conceived (to borrow again from the Institute of Man) as involving a "respectful love of self and others as uniquely called and graced by the Sacred." Such love would seek to establish r.elationships of friend-ship with fellow religious and laity, and these would be humanly warm and expressive and unstrained by old fears of compromise and contamination by sexual compli-cations- phobias that have happily been laid to rest.It would presuppose a genuine rejoicing in the goodness of the lay role and the married state and preclude an artifi-cial hierarchical understanding of vocations or distorting comparison of functions based on measures of perfection. And, of course, it would thoroughly dispose of any "mys-tique" of religious life. Celibate love knows that each state of life is necessary to the other, and that each develops in perfection and grace in terms of its counterpart.8 It understands that re-ligious and laity must be wholly open to one another as persons in our contemporary Christian world, because 7 Ladislas M. Orsy, S.J., "Poverty in the Religious Life," REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, V. 26 (1967), pp. 60--82. sSee David B. Burrel], C.S.C., "Complementarity," REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, V. 26 (1967), pp. 149-60, for a discussion of this point. this is the sine qua non of both human friendship and Christian love. To this end, it welcomes opportunities to join the laity in their homes for occasions of social sig-nificance, and also cordially unlocks the cloister doors so that laymen may breathe of the spirit that uniquely dwells there. But in all these interpersonal relationships, the laymen expects that celibate love will be permeated and directed by a necessary wisdom which is sensitive to the priority of God's relationship to each soul, and efficaciously con-cerned not to frustrate God's plan for it. Thirdly, laymen expect religious, whether they be "subordinates" or "superiors" (or whatever new titles they use) to live a life of genuine obedience. Such a life is nurtured and guided by a r~spectful alertness to what the Institute of Man calls "the dynamics of the life situation as a temporal and local manifestation of God." This means that all elements of a religious community must be finely tuned-in to the real and concrete and changing needs of the world and the Church. It means, in fact, redefining obedience as the act of listening--listening to the will of almighty God making itself explicit through the Scriptures, indeed, but also through the events of the world, the activities of daily living, and through personal contacts with us laymen. In the light of this concept of obedience as listening, the specific authority structures of a religious community seem to us relatively unimportant. What matters is that all members, including "superiors" (and presumably there will always be someone who formally accepts re-sponsibility for the community), to appreciate the neces-sity of others in the decision-making process. They must understand that this imperative follows from the incom-pleteness of any individual in value and operation, and from everyone's need for complementation and perfect-ing. Finally, but actually firstly, the laity expect consecrated religious to be men and women well versed in the art of prayer. We have observed that their prayer life produces an intimacy .with almighty God that penetrates their whole being; and we have often experienced the truth that contact with them is a happy, homely contact with the Divine. Somehow, laymen find it difficult to speak easily or publicly with loving familiarity of God, and tend to tuck Him away for private moments. Yet our hearts respond with almost childlike delight when reli-gious women and men effect His presence in our midst by their relaxed reference to the divine Person who is their friend. But His presentation must also be honest. He must be there as the genuine beloved, or the introduction will .generate resentment and distrust and even, some-÷ ÷ + Layman's Response to Religi'ous VOLUME ~0, 1971 ÷ ÷ M. A. Ha~per times, contempt. And, of course, regular, vital, personal prayer makes the difference--prayer for which action is no substitute. But laymen do expect religious to be action people as well. They expect to find religious present in all situa-tions of want, be these physical poverty, or infirmity, or social injustice, and to support the laity in their human commitment to one another. Moreover, we welcome them to work alongside us in our professions, which we hope and anticipate they will competently enrich by their unique intimacy with and witness tQ. Christ. In all these activities, however, we ask the consecrated religious not to blur their identity with ours. Such blur-ring does not necessarily take place by their choosing ordinary lay clothing instead of traditional habits, though many laymen appreciate some sort of identifiable although contemporary dress or insignia for professional or public appearances, and the reserving of anonymity for private occasions. More to the point is the signaling of God's kingdom mentioned before--the "pilgrim witness" which per-meates the entire personality of the consecrated religious. In the rhythmic, interpenetrating flow of action between the human and the divine in all Christian lives, the lay-man publishes and protects the human. But it is the consecrated religious who points to the divine, and who must give this sign the highest visibility. In days gone by, such visibility was carefully prescribed by rules which governed all aspects of religious life, in-cluding prayer, dress, and general decorum. Today it is a matter of individual responsibility, and each religious must seek ways to radiate God in his own life, and by his own style--a difficult project, indeed, with the old guide-lines gone, and none very clear or precise to take their place. No wonder there have been dark moments of con-fusion, insecurity, and doubts. And the worst may be yet to come as religious-in-transition continue to probe and test their inspirations. During all their struggles, however, we laymen want religious to trust and draw strength from our loyalty and devotion, and from our great confidence that religious will solve their problems and, in their own proper way, continue to mature in Christ. But, most importantly, on every occasion of solicited or unsolicited criticism from us post-Council laymen, we want religious to understand and believe how humanly and eschatalogically, but uniquely, we need them! REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 186 BENEDICT M. ASHLEY, O.P. Toward an American Theology of Contemplation Introduction In* the process of renewal of religious life in the United States no question is more polarizing than the role of "contemplation" in religious life today. Some-how Americans have always had difficulty about this question. At the time of the confused "Americanism" controversy in the 1880's, among other errors supposed to be prevalent in the American Church Leo XIII con-demned the emphasis on the active rather khan the con-templative life.1 In a recent history of the Dominican fathers in the United States, The American Dominicans, Father Reginald Coffey has made very clear how the attempt to transplant the Dominican ideal of "contem-plata aliis tradere" ran into astonishing difficulties which have never been resolved after 170 years of earnest effort.2 What is true of the Dominicans. can be paralleled in most of the other" religious orders who came to this coun-try. We cannot ignore this experience, nor assume that the difficulty has arisen because we just have not tried hard enough. Perhaps the reason is that we have been trying to do the impossible and have not had the intellectual courage to think the whole matter through to a better and more practical solution. We have tried to import into American culture a mode of the awareness of God * This article is based on a talk originally given to a meeting of the Dominican Education Association in Atlantic City, April 2 1970. 1See T. T. McAvoy, C.S.C., The American Heresy in Roman Catholicism, 1895-1900 (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame, 196~). ~Reginald Coffey, O.P., The American Dominicans (New York: St. Martin de Porres Guild, 141 East 65th St., 1968). 4- Benedict Ashley, O.P., is a member of the Institute of Religion and Hu-man Development; Texas Medical Cen-ter; Houston, Texas 77025. VOLUME 30, 1971 187 B. M. Ashley, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 188 which arose in European culture and which can be achieved in our culture only with strain and artificiality. After all, God reveals Himself to men in the way that He chooses; and He ordinarily chooses a mode of revela-tion suited to their concrete experience and style of life. If contemplation is to be vital for us it must arise from a contact with God present in our world, not in the world of the 13th century, nor the 17th nor the 19th, nor in an artificial world created by a romantic love of the past. Just as we realize there is something decadent in building Gothic churches as if God could only be found in a particular style of architecture, so it is deca-dent to seek a form of prayer in a style of life that is only artificially re-created. We need to study our own culture and see whether in its system of values there is room for an authentic contemplative life. Pragmatism The United States of America as a people began with a theological conception of its mission. Our most influ-ential founders saw this country as a promised land, "the land of opportunity" in which God had given mankind a new chance to realize the kingdom of God, freed from the traditional compromises which the Church had made in Europe with tyrannical monarchies.3 This conception of mission was reenforced by the ac-tual experience of the pioneers in possessing the land, then of American government and business in applying scientific methods of organization and technology to the control of the environment and to the mass education and human development of the people. These experiences have given us a particular under-standing of what truth is. Our most dominant philosophy under thinkers like James, Peirce, and Dewey expresses this idea of truth as.pragmatic or instrumental. Some have understood this philosophy to mean that truth is valuable only as a practical instrument. A study of Dewey will show that this is a misunderstanding. Americans do not limit truth to the role of a mere tool of action, but what they say is that unless truth is effective, unless it leads to change, to growth, to progress, to the liberation of man, it cannot be genuine truth. It follows that the traditional Greek idea of "contem-plation" is very hard for an American to grasp. What do you contemplate? If it is the world or ourselves, then to know the world and ourselves is to see something that ~On the concept of an American theology see the symposium Projections: Shaping an American Theology [or the Future, ed. by Thomas F. O'Meara, O.P. (Garden City: Doubleday, 1970); and Herbert Richardson, Towards an American Theology (New York, 1967). needs to be improved and freed from its restrictions. If you say we contemplate God, then the American says: "Why should I look at God from a distance? If I really engage God as a person, then we must do something to-gether. Surely God is not idl~. To be with God is to engage with Him in His work, and His work is with His world and the people who are His people. We can understand working with someone, we can understand playing with someone, but just looking at some one. !" Tradition Americans experience the past as something foreign (Europe, Mexico, the Far East). As such it fascinates us, and the world is filled with American archaeologists and anthropologists and historical researchers digging into the past and the primitive. But the value, of the past for us is that it tells us "how far we have come" and encourages us to change even more. It does not set for us a norm or a stamp of approval on what we are now doing. In fact, we are inclined to be uneasy if we realize that we are still doing what men found useful in the past. If it was useful then, surely it can be only a hindrance now when we live in such a different age. When we do admire something traditional it is precisely b~cause it is still a success. We marvel that its originators could have been so foresighted, but there must be experiential proof that it still works. From this point of view a young American religious can admire the founder of his order for being so "mod-ern" in the sense that for his times he was forward-look-ing. But the reason, above all, that our vocations are few and that so many younger people leave is that it appears to them that the religious orders are not preparing for the future. To speak to persons of this mentality about the "nnchanging essentials" of religious life. and its time-tested means of silence, cloister, Office, and study that have produced so many saints in the past, is precisely to confirm their greatest fear that their order lives in the past. A young Dominican I know once said: "Our Order is no longer the Order of Trutk, since if it possessed the Truth it would be changing to meet the future. Truth is the capacity to change for the future." Thus, if contemplation is a call to withdraw into the silence of the cloister, to spend much of the day in the chapel at Office or in the library studying the documents of the past in order to occasionally preach a sermon or deliver a lecture, it is not easy to see how this fidelity to the "tried and true" methods of tradition is anything but a "cop-out" from problems of the present. It is worse than taking drugs, because the use of drugs is turning people on to new experiences, while the old monastic ÷ ÷ ÷ Contemplation VOLUME 30~ 1971 189 B. M. Ashley, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS methods seem in actual fact to close people up in stale routines. Prophecy There is a kind of divine truth which the American mind can appreciate, the truth of prophecy. Authentic prophecy, in Biblical terms, is an interpretation and criticism of the present, which also has the effective power to produce the future. It is a call to man to act in co-operation with God, and it announces the doom of him who hesitate~. It is a pragmatic truth in the deepest sense. Writers on contemplation generally emphasize that it is a receptivity or openness to transcendent reality. With-out this receptivity human activity becomes feverish, shallow, and ineffective. I think Americans respond with real understanding to this concept of openness. It is no accident that our country has produced in the psychiatrist' Carl Rogers a remarkable exponent of the "art of listen-ing" who has shown that the basis of all human life is the capacity to be really open to the communication of another person, a communication deeper than mere words.4 But notice the great difference between the American idea of openness and receptivity and that of the monastic tradition as we have ordinarily tried to live it. To be open in the American sense one has to be in the midst of the world and of persons, in the situations where peo-ple are interacting and where God is bringing people together. The monastery seems ideally designed to close people off from one another, and hence to God. What the American tends to see in the monastic tradi-tion is essentially a dualism. There is a dualism of the body and the mind, of matter and spirit, of the world and the cloister, the secular and the sacred, the active and the contemplative. What he protests against is not the mind, the spirit, the cloister, the sacred, or contem-plation, but a tradition which seems to force us to di-chotomize these and to prefer one to the other, or even to make one the basis of the other. The American be-lieves that there must be a contemplative, receptive ele-ment in communication but it is part of a rhythm of action and reception, of interaction. It makes no sense, therefore, to argue that "we contemplate in order to give to others." The giving and receiving are joined in a single activity. We are learning about reality as we act to change it or to communicate with it. *Carl R. Rogers, On Becoming a Person (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1961), Chapter 1: "This Is Me." Criticism I think I have said enough to show why the.terms in which traditional books discuss the problem of contem-plation make little sense to young Americans and, I would think, to young Europeans also, because in this the American style of thought has taken a lead throughout the world. It is not true, however, that Americans accept this pragmatic attitude without criticism. To see the need of prophecy as a criticism of our times entails also an attitude of self-criticism. In this the American fondness for depth-psychology, "group dynamics," and "sensitivity training" is characteristic. Americans are seeking a pecu-liar mode of asceticism which involves an exposure of hidden motives to the scrutiny of others. The American is haunted by the fear that he cannot change, that he cannot grow because of fixations, because of blindness and illusion. He is anxious, therefore, to uncover in himself the obstacles to growth. At the present Americans are engaged in-deep self-criticism. We realize that in one sense and paradoxically we are the most conservative country in the developed World. The rapidity of change in the United States has driven the "silent majority" of our people into a defen-sive position. The silent majority (if it is that) iti our religious convents is only a reflection of that frightened conservatism which pervades the whole of American so-ciety. This has produced an atmosphere which is near panic and despair. Americans are deeply frightened that at this moment when we feel so desperately the need to meet the future we will be unable to do so, that we are already locked int6 structures (which we ourselves built) and which we cannot dismantle rapidly enough. The racial problem or the poverty problem in the United States is typical. All of us, even the most conservative really admit that racial discrimination and poverty must go; but we are afraid that the strains of accomplishing this will be more [han we as a society can undertake in a short time, and that tomorrow it will be too late. This self-criticism is, therefore, terribly urgent for the American, and it must be radical. It cannot simply be a matter ~f "adaptation," nor can it be a matter of changing the "accidentals" and retaining the "essentials." We do not think in those terms. What we need, we think, is a new model. It may retain many features of the old, but it must constitute somehow a new response to the future. This entails the serious consideration of whether we should retain the traditional forms of religious life or whether it is necessary to begin new ones. This does not entail, please, notice, that Americans ÷ ÷ ÷ Contemplation VOLUME 30, 1971 191 ÷ + ÷ B. M. Ashley, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS a priori want new and American forms of religious life. Our pragmatism is deeper than that. We are perfectly ready to keep the existing orders if they are el~ective, but not otherwise. Inherent in this self-criticism is also the growing reali-zation that American culture is itself quite sick, and that one of its deep sicknesses is activism. Throughout Amer-ican culture in the most unlikely places there is a strong reaction against pragmatism cbnceived as a religion of success and material productivity. These are seen as de-humanizing, as reducing man to a servant of the ma-chine, of things. Thus American pragmatism is taking a new and purified form. It is still a conviction that truth must be effective, but the effect sought is not material; it is rather to be judged in terms of "the quality of life," a widened and deepened experience, a more intimate communication with other persons, a freer realization of man's creative potential. Experimentalism The outcome of this is that young Americans are looking hopefully to pluralism and experimentalism. Theologically this is understood by many young Catho-olics as the liberating work of the Holy Spirit who dis-tributes His diverse gifts to individuals and groups. In religious life this means a diversity of "life-styles" and apostolates. The danger here, of course, is that the unity of a religious community will be completely disrupted. Sociologists are among the first to warn us that the weak-ening structures and symbols of group unity may render a community completely dysfunctional. However, the advocates of this pluralism and experi-mentalism join it with an insistence on communica-tion, evaluation, feed-back: They do not propose a proc-ess of splintering, but rather a rhythm of changing life in which forms are developed through an interchange of experiences and ideas, and then constantly revised in view of ongoing experience and new ideas. In such a conception it becomes hopeless to talk about "essentials" and "adaptations," and the discussion rather takes the form of talking about "the enrichment of values." The Basic Question Perhaps nothing is more crucial in "this question than the diagnosis which each side makes of the "signs of our times." A recent writer on the renewal of religious life, while conceding many pgsitive aspects to the present sit-uation, singles out as our deepest sickness our secularism, and "insensitivity to the transcendent." ~ This means that for him God is primarily the transcendent, and that He is to be found, therefore, by the various monastic tech-niques by which a man turns away from the noise of the world to the silence beyond the world. This, however, is the very point in question. Is God to be known primarily as "the transcendent?" He may have revealed himself in the monastic period" of the Church primarily in that way, and through the practices of silent and cloistered meditation. But is this the way that He has willed to reveal Himself today? After all, to accept an historical view of revelation as most theologians do today, also entails the conviction that God reveals Him-self to men historically in a way specific to the time. Our problem becomes, therefore, to search for God to-day where He reveals Himself and according to the man-ner in which He, as Lord of History, dictates, not ac-cording to some tradition, however venerable. Our younger people have the conviction that somehow this point of revelation is precisely in the secular, in the pov-erty and the need of our world. This need felt by the world is not an explicit religious need. Rather it is a simple human need of justice, of love, and of peace, but it is authentic need, and that is why God is to be found there. After all Jesus Himself said: "I was poor, hungry, ¯ naked, and in prison, and you did not visit me." ¯ Receptivity Are we then to lose ourselves in meeting the social problems of our time? Is there not a real danger that tak-ing the form of our life from the apostolate we will simply become humanitarian activists? We already see many who are leaving religious life to engage themselves as lay persons in the problems of the world and who in a short time seem to have lost all prophetic sense and simply to have succumbed to the dead routine of com-mercial society. How then can we develop a sincere re-ceptivity to the word of God? It appears incredible to our younger people that this is to be achieved by a return to "conventual life" in its monastic form. Nothing in their experience points this way. Nor do they see in us older religious very convincing proofs that this type of life has in fact made us receptive to what God is doing today. Rather they see that the conservative advocates of regular observance were and are closed to the work of the spirit which has manifested itself in Vatican II in a manner whose authenticity cannot be mistaken. ~Valentine Walgrave, O.P., Do~ninican Self-Appraisal in the Light of the Council (Chicago: Priory, 1968), pp. 112-20. ÷ ÷ + Contemplation VOLUME 30, 1971 193 ÷ ÷ ÷ B. M. Ashley, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS The first step, therefore, to a renewal of genuine re-ceptivity to the Spirit, to authentic contemplation, is an awakened sensitivity to the world's needs, to the 15resente of Jesus in the poor, the suffering, and the despairing. There is, however, a danger that concern for social ills will become a mere "cause," an abstract party ideology little concerned with real people, as Marxism has be-come. To be Christian this concern for the poor and re-ceptivity to their needs must be brought close to home and must become a receptivity to the persons in our daily lives. Hence, we cannot achieve a renewal of the contemplative spirit unless we begin with an increased sensitivity to the human needs of those around us, an openness to dialogue, a freedom of communication. This ability to hear others and to respond to them is hindered by our own lack of self-understanding, which al-lows barriers of communication to grow within us. In the past these walls against others have actually been reenforced by the conventual observances so that nnder the guise of seeking to be more receptive to God we have closed ourselves off to our neighbors. The parable of the Good Samaritan summarizes the tragic fact that religious purity can be an excuse for "passing by on the other side." This growth in self-understanding can, of course, lead to self-centeredness, just as the practice of meditation and examination of conscience sometimes did. The remedy for this excessive subjectivity is study. Books cannot sub-stitute for experience, but experience in interpersonal re-lations does not necessarily produce deeper insight unless it is accompanied by study. If we are to be prophetic men and women we must make use of all the knowledge ¯ ~hich modern science furnishes to help us understand man and his condition; and we must push this explora-tion to its philosophical and theological depths. Perhaps our greatest danger at the moment is to settle for a psy-chological view of man which is positivistic in character and which does not push behind positivist assumptions to the basic problems of human existence. When we speak of study, however, it cannot be a study of texts. In America today, more and more the advance of learning is pulling itself free from the printed page and is becoming a matter of the laboratory, the clinic, the symposium, the workshop. A group of men and women, therefore, who are to be a community of study today will not look like a monastic library or scriptorium; but it will be in constant contact with the gathering of empirical data and the debating of theoretical hypotheses. Because in our times a prophet must also be deeply involved in professional life, he can become overly cere-bral, a human computer. He must fight free of getting trapped in the narrow world of scientic and technological rationalism. If religious life is to foster a prophetic open-ness to reality, it must not reduce our energies to the lim-its of efficient work and productive routine. The esthetic, creative, and spiritual components of human personality must be awakened and developed. The dualism which infected Christian asceticism in the past often led to an atmosphere in which we became closed to all reality which threatened the arousal of our emotions. A certain type of Thomism closed us up in a tight world of defini-tions and classifications that excluded much of God's world of beauty, mystery, and experiential insight. If we are to be open to the prophetic Spirit we must make place in our lives for genuine celebration, the praise of God in His world. The Divine Office originated in such a spirit of praise, but that does not mean that it is today a genuine celebration. Nor are we sure that it can be. In any case we have the obligation to find a way to celebrate our community life in God if we are to be a prophetic community. American life today in a country that possesses half of the world's wealth is clear proof that our riches, which could be the solution to world poverty, are the chief cause of our apathy to poverty. This is true also of our search for security in sex and family, in personal au-tonomy and professional competence. We cannot criti-cize this idolatrous American search for security if our conventual life is itself aimed at security. Thank God, we are becoming insecure! Our decline in vocations is forcing us to liquidate our property and to face a doubt-ful future. We are frightened by the decline in apprecia-tion for celibacy. Is not this the payment for our lack of poverty? If we have a genuine eschatological sense of the urgency of the world's problems--if we were expect-ing to go to jail soon for our share in the revolution-- then celibacy would become very logical. This is true also of obedience. Obedience makes-sense when it is a response to a leadership ready to risk all. American Monasticism Does all this mean that there is no place in American culture for monks or nuns devoted to the contemplative life without an exterior apostolate? The life of Thomas Merton was a sign for us that such a conclusion would be too hasty.0 Americans dislike the ancient dualism be-tween contemplation and action, but they do understand the principle of specialization. If contemplation as a ~ Thomas Merton, Contemplative Prayer (New. York: Herder and Herder, 1969). 4- 4- + Contemplation VOLUME 30, 1971 195 ÷ ÷ ÷ B. M. Ashley, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 196 value is to be vigorous in American life it must have its specialists. We look to such specialists of contemplation, however, for a pragmatic demonstration that is convincing to our times. Merton provided such a test by showing that his life in the hermitage had made him more sensitive to the problems and opportunities of our times than most of us in active life. If the cloister is to draw young Americans, it should not offer them a retreat from the world, but a place to confront the issues of our time in an intense encounter where every illusion is stripped away. Most of us see our times through the TV screen carefully in-terlaced with commercials whose message is middle-class complacency. If we are to have cloisters, they must be places in which contemplatives look reality square in the face. Far from destroying the monastic tradition this would be a return to its original inspiration which, according to Father Bouyer, was not to escape the world and its evils but to confront them in the desert of unflinching truth, like Jesus "who was led into the desert by the Spirit to be tried by the devil." 7 This requires a rethinking of the traditional monastic means of silence, choral prayer, discipline, and the clois-ter so as to make these truly effective means to a profound self-knowledge, a knowledge of ourselves not cut off from the world, but as responsible for it. It means too that the insight achieved must be shared with others by modes of communication that are effective in our society, and it is here that the deep American interest in com-munications verbal and non-verbal must come into play. The Active Religious Communities Those religious communities dedicated to an active exterior apostolate, if they are to root that apostolate in the authentic receptivity of spirit required to hear the word of God calling to us from crisis situations, need to get to work on the following objectives: 1. Our first objective must be to locate and operate our communities in situations where we will be forced to confront the problems of our time. We must seek a form of life which does not permit us to protect our-selves by false securities from the urgency of the situa-tions which make a prophetic witness a constant demand upon us. Our obedience, chastity, and poverty must be-come functional because they are necessary for us in our r Louis Bouyer, The Spirituality of the New Testament and the Fathers (New York: Descl~e, 1963), especially Chapter 13: "The Origins of Monasticism," pp. 300-3. state of emergency. Our security must be in faith and hope in God alone. 2. Our next objective should be to support each other in this common emergency through a community life that is based on a spirit of openness, receptivity/and di-alogue. A pluralism of life styles and points of view must be combined with a vigorous effort for greater unity .through experiment and dialogue. We must encourage the emergence of leadership, and we must foster the gifts of the Spirit in each member of the community. 3. We must break through the current tendency to faddism and a superficial copying of the techniques of scientific positivism to a deeper, prophetic understanding of man and his problems in the light of the Gospel. This demands that our communities be places of research and study where people of different experiences and compe-tencies can meet to raise penetrating questions and en-gage in mutual criticism of opinions. 4. In order to achieve this openness and to be able to meet the conflict involved in the clash of opinions and tendencies we must in our communities seek a profound purification of the spirit. We should not neglect the techniques provided by modern psychology'and sociology to help us overcome immature and prejudiced modes of thinking, feeling, and acting. Beyond this we must by a disciplined simplicity of life and by personal and com-munity prayer open the way to the action of God's grace. 5. We must find the courage for this renewal in a spirit of celebration of the presence of God in the world and in our community through liturgical prayer and through a genuine enjoyment of friendship in the com-munity and with those we serve. The Eucharist and the praise of God must become for us the fundamental life styIe which unites us in a pluralism of expression and activities. Some will ask: When in all this complex of activities will we come face to face with God, alone and in silence? Can there be genuine contemplation without this naked confrontation? There cannot be. But it is God Himself who calls us to face Him. If He does not call, then we cannot find Him. Therefore, the beginning of our contemplative re-newal must be to answer Him where and when He calls ÷ to us. It seems that today in the United States God is ÷ calling us not in a silent cloister, which is hardly to be + found, but in the situations of fear and doubt, in the desert of alienation, and at the gates of hope where Jesus stands side by side with suffering men and women. We must meet Him there with faith. It is my belief that a religious community which takes this step will be Contemplation VOLUME 30, 1971 197 more truly obedient, chaste, poor, charitable, studious, prayerful, receptive of God's word, and urgently driven to bring God's word to others in their need, than a com-munity which applies itself to some illusion of con-ventual observance. What then is my conclusion? Our American experience shows a great need today of a prophetic mission which will enable men to find God at work in the critical situations of our society. No doubt there is also need of men and women who so feel the urgency of this pro-phetic task, that they are willing to put aside economic, family, and individual securities, to work as a commu-- nity to help the larger community of the Church per-form this task better. Such a community cannot fulfill its prophetic mission unless it is deeply engaged in the world's problems, but it cannot be content to meet these problems superficially. It must penetrate them to the deepest level where God reveals Himself. This implies a search for God in our life together in tl~e world made ever more profound by study, dialogue, discipline, prayer, suffering, and celebration. ÷ ÷ ÷ B. M. AshleT, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 198 BERNARD VERKAMP Cultic Purity and the Law,of Celibacy The situation as a whole of the early Church, Jean Paul Audet has noted, was one of tremendous simpli-fication. 1 With this simplification came a general flexi-bility, which also found expression in the early structures of the Christian priesthood. Both in the service of the gospel and the ecclesia, the early Christians broke out of the fixed patterns of a sacral priesthood, and freely adopted whatever structures most suited their work." Thus, to come to the subject of our present concern, while some chose to leave their wives or husbands, others, the majority, continued to pursue their mission out of the context of a married and home life.s What is most sig-nificant, however, is that neither one nor the other style of life was thought to be, in itself, incompatible with service. Both were viable options. And such was to re-main the case throughout the first centuries of Christi-anity. In the year 305, however, nineteen bishops from differ-ent parts of Spain gathered at the Synod of Elvira and issued along with various other very stringent measures,4 the following canon touching upon the marital status of the clergy: Placuit in totum prohibere episcopis, presbyteris et diaconi-bus vel omnibus clericis positis in ministerio abstinere se a 1 j. p. Audet, Structures of Christian Priesthood, New York, 1968, p. 80. "~ Ibid., p. 79. ~ Ibid., p. 41. ~ Canon 13 states that a virgiu consecrated to God and committing a carnal sin could receive communion only at the end of her life and after perpetual penance. Bishops, priests, and deacons detected in fornication were, according to Canon 18, to be denied communion for the rest of their lives. And, according to Canon 71, pederasts were not to be admitted to communion even on their deathbeds (Hefele-Leclerq, Histoire des Conciles, Paris, 1907, 1.1, pp. 212-264). ÷ ÷ ÷ Father Bernard Verkamp, a doc-toral candidate in the St. Louis Uni-versity Divinity School, lives at 3658 West Pine Boulevard; St. Louis, Mo. 63108. VOLUME 30, 1971 199 ÷ ÷ ÷ B. Verkamp REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS '~00 conjugibus suis et non generare filios: quicumque vero [ecerit, ab honore clericatus exterminetur? While stating exactly the opposite, the synod appar-ently meant to forbid bishops, priests, and deacons from continuing sexual relations with their wives.~ Nothing is said about separation of the clerics from their wives; only that they may not relate sexually. There is no ques-tion here of the synod desiring to render the clergy more available for apostolic service. Rather is the prohibition clearly motivated by a concern for cultic purity. This conclusion is further supported by,the phrasing of the canon: ".vel omnibus clericis positis in ministerio." Were this phrase disjunctive, it might have been in-tended only to extend the prohibition to yet another class of clergy, namely, subdeacons. But, in all likelihood,; it is meant to be explicative--with "vel" meaning "id est" --so that the canon must read: "It pleases us to forbid absolutely bishops, priests, and deacons, that is, all clerics engaged in the service of the altarS., from relating sex-ually to their wives and having children." Combining as it does such a variety of elements, it is difficult to say exactly when and by whom this notion of cultic purity was first ushered into Christianity.° But "Canon 1, Hefele-Leclerq, pp. 238-239. " Literally, the canon forbids bishops, priests, and deacons to abstain from intercourse and not to have children. Such a prohibi-tion might have made sense some eighty years later in Spain when the Priscillian brand of Manichaeism was rampant, but not in the Spain of 305. The rigorist tone of all the other canons of this synod would suggest too that the synod did mean the exact opposite of what it actually declared. This conclusion is further supported by the fact that one of the prime agitators for legislation against clerical marriage at the Council of Nicea in 325 was the Spanish bishop Hosius (Hefele-Leclerq, p. 621). 7 See Martin Boelens, Die Klerikerehe in der Gesetzgebung der Kirche, Paderborn, 1968, p~ 39. s p. Harkx, The Fathers on Celibacy, Des Peres, 1968, p. 16, takes "positis in ministerio" to mean "appointed to orifice." But Audet, Structures, p. 13, notes that in the Christian Latin of the period, when referring to pastoral service, the ministerium was generally seen as a sacrum ministerium, that is, as a service of the altar. ~Certainly its introduction was aided to some extent by the disparagement of sex which, despite the Church's rejection of the encratic sects spawned by Gnosticism, began, as early as Athenagoras, to gain ground within Christian circles; see Athenagoras, Supplicatio pro Christi 33, PG 6, 965-967; Minutius Felix, Octavius 31, PL 3, 335-338; Tertullian, Ad Uxorem I, 3, PL 1, 1277-1279; Clement of Alexandria, Christ the Educator 11, "Fathers of the Church," v. 23, New York, 1954, pp. 169f; Sextus, Sentences 230-233, ed. H. Chad-wick, Cambridge, 1959, p. 39. The trend toward sacralization received a major stimulus from Cyprian in the 3rd century; see Letters 1 and 67, "Fathers of the Church," v. 51, Washington, 1964, pp. 3-5 and 232. From Cyprian onward the Old Testament example of the Aaronic priesthood and its laws of periodic continency (Lev 22:3; Lev 15:18; Ex 19:15; 1 Sam 21:5) were appealed to more and more frequently as a model for the Christian priesthood. once introduced, it quickly established itself and became during the next fifteen hundred years the predominant rationale behind the legislation of clerical c6ntinency.1° For more than two hundred years after Elvira, all the legislation regarding the marital status of the clergy in the Western Church11 was solely directed toward pro-hibiting sexual intercourse between the higher clergy and their wives. Not until the Synod of Gerona in 517 did the Spanish bishops require separation. And in other coun-tries such legislation came still later. This fact, in itself, would suggest that throughout those two hundred years clerical continency was motivated almost solely by a con-cern for cultic purity. What other evidence is available supports that conclusion. Outside of Elvira, there was almost no legislation re-garding clerical marriage in the Western Church during the first seventy years of the 4th century.12 But in the 1°This is not, of course, to imply any judgment about the rationale for the chastity of religious men or women during the same period. Our present concern is only with the legislation of clerical celibacy. For a discussion of celibacy in a broader context, J. M. Ford's, ,4 Trilogy on Wisdom and Celibacy, Notre Dame, 1967, is especially good. A recently published work by Roger Gryson, Les origines du cdlibat eccldsiastique du premier au septi~me siecle, Paris, 1970, may also prove helpful. 11 In the East, legislation in this regard took a somewhat different course. At the Synod of Ancyra in 314, it was ruled in canon 10 that any deacon declaring his intention to marry at the time of his appointment might marry even after his ordination and continue in his ministry (Hefele-Leclerq, v. 1.I, pp. 312-313). Without such a prior declaration, however, he could not subsequently marry and still hope to exercise his office. Thus Ancyra already contained at least the germ of the practice eventually adopted by the Eastern Church at Trullo in 692, namely, marriage before but not after ordination. But for all these differences, the legislation in the East was really no less motivated by a desire for cultic purity than in the West, as we shall subsequently see in our discussion of the Synod of Trullo. That the notion of cultic purity was already prevalent in the East in the first half of the fourth century was exemplified by Eusebius of Caesarea when he wrote: "Verumtamen cos, qui sacrati sint, atque in Dei ministerio cultuque occupati, con-tinere deinceps seipsos a commercio uxoris decet" (Demonstrationis evangelicae I, IX, PG 22, 82). Likewise, the Synod of Laodicea, in 350, passed a number of measures which can only be understood within the context of cultic purity. Canon 21 decrees that sub-deacons shall not touch the sacred vessels; canon 44 bars women from approaching near the altar; according to canon 19 only clerics shall be permitted to approach the altar of sacrifice (Hefele-Leclerq, v. 1.2, pp. 1010-'20). On the other hand, however, the Synod of Gangra in 345 sought to check the sectarian thrust of Eustathian asceticism by excommunicating anyone maintaining that when a married priest offers the sacrifice, no one should take part in the service; see canon 4, Hefele-Leclerq, p. 1034. ~2 p. Harkx, The Fathers on Celibacy, p. 17, states that the Synod of Aries (314) reiterated the decrees of Elvira. But, the six appended canons, upon which Harkx bases his conclusion, do not really belong to this synod, but must be ascribed rather to a decretal of Pope + + + Celibacy VOLOME ~0~ 1971 201 last quarter of that century, Popes Damasus I (366-384) and Siricius (384-399) were both very active in initiating a program of clerical continency. Several synods were held at Rome some time around 370, which, while indi-cating a preference for clerical candidates who were not married, nevertheless allowed that someone baptized as an adult and already married might also be ordained, as-suming that he had remained chaste and was a man of one wife ("unius uxoris vir").13 In a letter to the bishops of Gaul, Damasus relayed this and other decisions of the Roman synods along with a discttssion of the reasons for clerical continency.14 A variety of reasons are proffered,1~ but the central argument builds upon the notion of cultic purity.16 The very first synod held at Rome (384) under Pope Siricius, declared in its 9th canon that, because of their daily administration of the sacraments, priests and dea-cons should not have intercourse with their wives.17 In ÷ ÷ ÷ B. Verkarnls REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 202 Siricius: "Weil der Wortlaut dieses Kanons mit den cc. 4 trod 5 aus dem Brief des Papstes Siricius an die afrikanischen Bish6fe fast wortlich iibereinstimmt und wahrscheinlich von dort iibernommen worden ist" (Boelens, Die Klerikerehe, p. 28). The Council o[ Nicea (325) forbids any cleric to mutilate himself (c.1) and also prohibits the higher clergy from having the so-called "virgines subintroductae" in their houses (c.3). But its canons say nothing about clerical con-tinency (see Hefele-Leclerq, v. 1.1, pp. 528-620). Apparently, some of the Council fathers had hoped to require continency of the clergy, but thanks to the saintly Egyptian bishop, Paphnutius, this move was checked. E. Schillebeeckx, Clerical Celibacy under Fire, London, 1967, p. 26, cites Mansi 2, 670, in support of his claim that the Council of Nicea forbade marriage after reception of higher orders "according to an ancient tradition of the church." But the canons of Nicea say no such thing. The only possible support for Schillebeeckx's claim might be the statement of Paphnutius that "it would be sufficient, according to the ancient tradition of the Church, if those who had taken holy orders without being married were prohibited from marrying afterwards" (Hefele-Leclerq, v. 1.1, p. 620). an H. Bruns, Canones Apostolorum et conciliorum veterum selecti, Turin, 1959, v. 2, pp. 277f. a~ Ibid. (The text is also presented in PL 13, 1181-96.) ~'~ The authority of Scripture and the fathers; a good example to the widows and virgins, and so forth: ibid. ~"Denique illi qui in templo sacrificia offerebant, ut mundi essent toto anno in templo solo observationis ~nerito permanebant, domos suas penitus nescientes. Certe idolatrae, ut impietates exerceant et daemonibus immolent, imperant sibi continentiam muliebrem et ab secis quoque se purgari volunt, et me interrogas si sacerdos dei vivi spiritualia oblaturus sacrificia purgatus perpetuo debeat esse, an totus in carrie carnis curare debeat facere?" (ibid). x~"Suademus quod sacerdotes et levitae cum uxoribus suis non coeant, quia in ministerio ministri quotidianis necessitatibus occu-pantur., si ergo laicis abstinentia imperatur, ut possint deprecantes audiri, quanto magis sacerdos utique omni ~nomento paratus esse debet, munditiae puritate securus, ne aut sacrificium offerat, aut baptizare cogatur." The canons of this synod have come down to us through the letter of Siricius to the bishops of Africa, which in the following year, Siricius repeats this injunction in a letter to the Spanish bishop Himerus of Tarragona and further embellishes it with the cultic purity rationale. Those priests who have continued to beget children are wrong, he says, when they appeal to the example of the Old Testament priests. These latter were permitted to have children only because the law demanded that only descendants of Levi be admitted to the service of God. Such is no longer the case. Furthermore, the Old Testa-ment priests were strictly enjoined to have no sexual relations with their wives during the time of their service, so that they might present to God an acceptable offering. Priests, therefore, who want their daily sacrifices to be pleasing to God must remain continually chaste,is The 5th century follows a similar pattern. Sexual intercourse is forbidden between higher clergy (deacons, priests, bishops) and their wives.10 But their separation is not required:°0 Why no intercourse? "Because at any moment," the Synod of Tours proclaimed in 460, "they may be summoned to the discharge of a sacred func-tion." 21 Canon 2 of the same synod notes that while those who break this rule need not be deposed from their office,2-0 they shall no longer be eligible to a higher grade and shall not be permitted to offer the holy sacrifice or to assist as deacons.23 To strengthen such an arrangement between the clergy and their wives, a number of synods began during this turn was read at the African Synod of Telepte in 418, whence the present text. See Bruns, op. cit. I, p. 154. It is to this canon that the 6th spurious canon of the Synod of Aries (314) probably owes its origin; supra, footnote 11. ~ See Boelens, Die Klerikerehe, pp. 43-44. Arguments such as this were echoed repeatedly in ihe writings of Ambrose and Jerome who during this period were combating the "errors" of Jovinian and Vigilantius. 19See canon 1, Synod of Toledo (400), Hefele-Leclerq, v. 2.1, p. 123; canon 8, Synod of Turin (c. 400), ibid., p. 134; canons 23 and 24, Synod of Orange (441), ibid., p. 446; canon 2, Synod of Arles (443), ibid., p. 462. Pope Leo I in 446 included subdeacons under the rule; see PL 54, 672-3. ~0 Pope Leo I wrote that from the ti.me of ordination, the higher clergy must convert a carnal union into a spiritual one: "They must, though not sending away their wives, have them as though not having them" (PL 54, 1204). It will be recalled that during this same period the Church expressed itself as vehemently opposed to any "spiritual relations" between the clergy and the virgines subintro-ductae. .ol Hefele-Leclerq, v. 2.2, p. 899. The cultic purity rationale was also expressed during this century by Pope Innocent I (see Audet, Str~*ctures, p. 89) and by the Synod of Telepte (418) which, as we have noted earlier, took over the Letter of Siricius and its canons regarding clerical continency; see Bruns, Canones, v. l, p. 154. -°:As other synods had suggested, for example, c. 4, Synod of Carthage (401), Hefele-Leclerq, v. 2.1, p. 127. .-a. Ibid., v. 2.2, p. 899. + + + Celibacy VOLUME 30, 1971 203 + + 4. B. Verkamp REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 204 period to require a vow of chastity prior to ordination. Thus we read in canon 22 of the Synod of Hippo (393) that when lectors have attained the age of puberty, they mnst either marry or make a vow of continence.-04 Later, in 441, a synod at Orange declared that "married men shall not henceforth be ordained deacons unless they have previously vowed chasity." "~ The same decree was repeated at the Synod of Arles in 443.-06 Whatever else these vows came to connote in a later period,-07 there can be little doubt that in their original conception, they were meant simply to support the cultic purity arrange-merit. The next major step in legislation regarding clerical continency came with the rule that the clergy and their wives must separate. Here again the initiative came from Spain. In 517, a synod at Gerona ruled that all ordained married men, from subdeacons to bishops, must cease liv-ing with their wives. If they will not do that, they must at least have living with them someone else who might witness to their conduct."s The last part of this decree suggests something of the motivation underlying the rule of separation stated in the first part. The higher clergy were to separate from their wives, not because they would thereby become more available for Church service, but rather to remove them from suspicion of being less pure than was required of anyone serving at the altar. In other words, the rule of separation was simply a strengthening of the earlier no-interconrse legislation. This becomes even clearer as we trace the development of the law of separation in France during the fith century. Some of the first French synods of this century simply reiterated the EIvira legislation and sought to enforce it by strict penalties. Thus in 535, the Synod of Clermont declared that if anyone is ordained deacon or priest, he must not continne marital interconrse. He becomes a brother of his wife. Those who, inflamed by desire, have "cast off the girdle of the warfare," and have returned to their previous condition,"9 must be deprived of their clerical dignity.:~0 A few years later, however, we see the _o~ Ibid., v. 2.1, p. 87. -"~ Canon 22, ibid., p. 445. ,-,a Canon 2, ibid., p. 462. '-'~ See Schillebeeckx, Clerical Celibacy, p. 60t". ="De conversatione vitae a pontifice usque ad subdiaconum post suscepti honoris oflicium, si qui ex conjugatis fuerint ordinati, ut sine testimonio alterius fratris non utantur auxilio: cure sorore jam ex conjuge facta non habitent; quod si habitare voluerint, alterius [ratris utantur auxilio, cujus testimonio vita eorum debeat clarior apparere" (Bruns, Canones, v. 2, p. 19). See also c. 5, Synod of Toledo (589), ibid., v. 1, p. 214. ._~a,,.abjecto militiae cingulo vomitum pristinum et inhibita rursus conjugia repetiisse." ibid., v. 2, p. 190. ao Canon 13, ibid. start of an attempt to remove the cleric from suspicion, which would climax in a rule like that of Gerona (517). In 541, the Synod of Orleans ruled that bishops, priests, and deacons must not have the same chamber and the same bed with their wives, so that they not be brought into suspicion of carnal intercourse,a~ A synod at Tours in 567 went several steps further, and declared that wherever the bishop resides he must be surrounded with clergy,a" And lest the clergy who serve him come into contact with the maidservants of the bishop's wife, the bishop and his wife shonld have separate abodes,a:~ Sim-ilar rules are laid down for the priests, deacons, and sub-deacons. As very many rural archpriests, deacons, and subdeacons rest under suspicion, of continuing inter-course with their wives, canon 19 states tbat the arch-priest must always have a cleric with him, who accom-panies bim.everywhere and has his bed with him in the same cell;a4 tbe remaining priests, deacons and subdea-cons are warned to take care that their female slaves shall always live where their wives do, while they themselves dwell and pray in their cells alone,a~ A priest who lives with his wife, canon 19 concludes, must not be rever-enced by the people, but disapproved of, because he is a teacher, not of continence, but of vice.a~ In 578, the Synod of Anxerre reiterated the earlier decree of Orleans (541) to the effect that no priest, dea-con, or subdeacon was to sleep in the same bed with his wife after ordination,av In 581, the Synod of Mficon added yet another measure: No woman may enter a bishop's chamber unless two priests or deacons are pres-ent? s Finally, in 583, the Synod of Lyon expressly de-manded that priests and deacons not only have separate beds from their wives but that they also cease all daily contact with them.~9 "t Canon 17, ibid., p. 204. .a~ Canon 12, ibid., p. 227. :~ Ibid. ~' But no priest or monk mlJst sleep in the same bed with an-other, in order to avoid every evil suspicion; ibid., p. 228. a.~ Canon 19, ibid., pp. 229-230. ~ Ibid., p. 230. ar Canon 20, ibid., p. 239. ~ Canon 3, ibid., p. 243. a~ Canon 1, ibid., p. 247: "Placuit etiam, ut si quicuniqne u~oribus juncti ad diaconatus aut presbytcratus ordinem quoquo modo pervenerint, non solum lecto sed etiam frcquentatione quotidiana debeant de nxoribus suis sequcstrari." Outside of Spain and France, the law of separation was only much later enacted. Pope Gregory the Great (590-604) expressly rejected the idea of making those already married leave their wives after ordination unless they had promised continency prior to ordination (Letter 44, PL 77, 505-6). The first Roman synod to require separation was probably that of 743 (See canon 1; Hefele- Leclerq, v. 3.2, p. 851). In the East, the Synod of Trullo (692) rnled + + + Celibacy VOLUME ~0, ~971 205 ÷ ÷ ÷ B. Verkam~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 206 It is hard, therefore, to escape the impression that, as stated above, the separation of clergy from their wives was anything other than yet another facet of the same concern for cultic purity which underlay the earlier pro-hibition of sexual interconrse. This impression is further enhanced by the fact that French synods of the same pe-riod were passing a variety of measures which could only quicken the process of sacralization. The synod at Tours in 567 declared, for example, that at Masses, as well as at Vigils, the laity are not allowed to stand among the clergy near the altar on which the holy mysteries are solemnized.4° According to the Synod of Orleans (533), no woman must henceforth be given the benedictio dia-conalis. 41 Nor may a woman receive the holy Eucharist with uncovered hand,42 or touch the pall.4,~ Clerics are not to wear secular garments.44 The next six centuries saw no basic change in ec-clesiastical legislation touching upon the clergy's sexual conduct or marital status. The myriad decrees issued during these centuries either simply reiterate previous legislation or attempt to strengthen the same with more stringent penalties or some other positive measures, or, finally, seek to deal with complications arising out of the earlier laws. Some repeated the earlier demands for a vow of chastity prior to ordination.4~ Others encourage({ the adoption of a vita communis by the clergy.46 While none that if a married priest is consecrated bishop, his wife must go into a convent at a considerable distance (canon 48, Hefele-Leclerq, v. 3.1, p. 569). The motivation behind this measure was no less grounded in a concern for cultic purity than were similar measures in the West. Canon 13 of Trullo states that at the time when they must celebrate divine services, subdeacons, deacons, and priests are obliged to refrain from their wives since it has already been ordained that be who ministers in sacred things must be pure (ibid., v. 3.1, p. 565). The bishops must abstain completely because, unlike the priests and deacons, theirs is a fulltime service of the altar. ~o Canon 4, Bruns, Canones, v. 2, p. 226. ~t Canon 18, ibid., p. 187. ~-" Canon 36, Synod of Auxerre (578), ibid., p. 241. ~ Canon 37, ibid. "Canon 5, Synod of Mficon (581), ibid., p. 243. ~ Schillebeeckx, Clerical Celibacy, p. 60, cites the Fourth Council of Toledo (633) in this regard. But the "professio castitatis" to which canon 27 of that Council refers concerns a vow made after ordina-tion by those about to take up a rural pastorate (Bruns, Canones, v. 1, p. 231), and not, as Schillebeeckx says, a vow prior to ordination. This would suggest, as Boelens has noted (Die Klerikerehe, p. 100), that the conversio prior to ordination required by the Synod of Toledo in 527 had fallen out of practice. Vows prior to ordination were, however, required by the following synods: Worms (868); Bourges (1031); Limoges (1031); London (1102). ~ One of the first to advocate systematically the vita communis was Chrodegang of Metz (d. 766); see Bihlmeyer-Tiichle, Church History, Westminster, 1963, v. 2, p. 108). Synods at Canterbury (969), Rome (1059), Rome (1063), and Winchester (1076) encourage the idea. showed any concern for the care of the clergyman's wife and children after separation, a number dictated what was to happen to these latter if they did not separate from the cleric. Both the wives and the children were made subject to being sold or taken into slavery.47 The clergymen themselves were generally threatened with dep-osition in the event of disobedience; but when this had little effect, the legislators moved to forbid the laity from attending the Masses of such clerics.48 This "separation from the altar" of the incontinent cleric was extended by Gregory VII in 1079 to exclude the cleric from entrance into the church, so that he could not even take a passive part in divine worship.49 The notion of cultic purity, which we contend was operative within all this legislation, was not always given explicit expression.~° Gregory VII (1073-1085) himself, who climaxed the period under discussion, most fre-quently appealed only to the need for obedience to papal authority.~1 But his untiring efforts to separate the in-continent clergy from the service of .the altar, and oc-casional utterances to the effect that God can only be 57 Concerning wives, see canon 5, Synod of Toledo (653), Brtms, Canones, v. 1, p. 280; Synod of Rome (1049), Boelens, Die Klerikerehe, p. 135. Regarding children, see canon 10, Synod of Toledo (655), Bruns, Canones, v. 1, p. 295; Synod of Pavia (1022), Hefele-Leclerq, v. 4.2, p. 920. The inability of the children of clergymen to inherit Church goods had long before been established by the Code of Justinian (529), and by Pope Pelagius (556-561). The synods of Toledo (655) and Pavia (1022) reasserted the same. Pope Gregory VII especially showed himself callous as regards the clergyman's dependents. Boelens writes: "Tatsache abet war doch, (lass die meisten verheiratet waren und (lass sic Frau und Kinder hatten, fi_ir die sie zu sorgen batten. Wie sich die gregorianische Reform fiir sic auswirkte, wurde in den Gesetzcn hie erwahnt. Man vcrffigte nicht, was mit Frau und Kindern gcscbchcn sollten; nut immer wicder das Eine: 'crimen fornicationis' oder 'morbus fornica-tionis clericorum' oder bloss cinfach 'fornicatio' muss strong bestraft werden" (Die Klerikerehe, p. 147). ~8See Synods of Rome 0059), Rome (1063), Gerona (1068), Rome (1074), Poitiers (1078), Piacenza (1095), London (1102). Gregory VII also turned to the laity for support when some German bishops refused to cooperate with his refo
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