General Government and Leadership
The Benedictine Prayer of Beauty
A°n Annotation 19 Retreat Experience
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Peter-Hans Kolvenbach, S.J.
Father Kolvenbach was elected General Superior of the Society of J~sus in September, 1983. This article is based on an address he delivered, on February 7, 1984, to the "VII Ignafian Course." an annual program of study/reflection sponsored by Rome’s Centrum Ignatianum Spiritualitatis, and was first published in its bulletin, CIS: Vol. XV. no. I (1984), pp. 77-90. Fathgr Kolvenbach, as well as the Center, may be addressed at: C.P. 6139:00195 Roma, Italy.
lain very pleased to be here this evening to offer my contribution to the VII Ignatian Course. Not being a specialist, what I shall share with you will be a simple meditation on a theme that is both relevant and important: the link between the Spiritual Exercises and’ our preferential love for the poor. Clearly, if not necessarily dramatically, a preferential love for the poor~is contained in the spirituality of the Spiritual Exercises. We find, for example, in the section entitled "Mysteries of the Life of Our Lord"---a text in which the personal comments of Ignatius are rare and thus all the more significant--that a preferential love for th~ poor finds indirect expression in Ignatius’ emphatic reference to the situation Of those chosen to be apostles; that they were men "of humble condition" [275]. Likewise the only discourse Iogion explicitly offered for contemplation in the course of the Exercises i.s the Sermon on the Mount, which in the text’begins with.the beatitude concerning the poor [278]. Ignatius also comments that, while Jesus overturned the tables and scattered the money of the wealthy money-changers, "to the poor vendors of d6ves he spoke kindly" [277], asking them’to respect the prayerful purpose of the temple, his Father’s house. But these references evidence only an indirect connection with our theme, .the preferential love of the poor. "Rules for the Distribution of Aims": A Forgotten Text There is to be found in the Exercises, however, a much mor6 direct 801 1~09 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec:. 1984 connection between the spiritual urge to follow the Lord and the help that must be offered to the poor. The classic means of giving assistance to the poor had always.been alms- giving. And it is in the treatment of this subject that we shall find the most explicit link between the spirituality of the Exercises and an effective love for the poor, in an oft-forgotten section of the text entitled: "Rules for the Distri- bution of Aimsr’ [337-344]. Why has this passage been so often forgotten? Above all because of the very concrete and specific application it makes to a single situation. In fact, ~he document is explicitly addressed to almoners, those who by virtue of their office are supposed to look after the poor, to clerics who practiced charity as their .function. Thus the tone of the text is very. clerical, very priestly. But despite the text’s heavy emphasis on ~institutionalism with its many references to ministry, condition, office and function, Ignatius also points to Christ the high priest as the one who is the model and norm for all charitable activity. This particular reference to Christ the high priest [344] expands the horizon of an otherwise purely clerical document, calling every Christian to become a sharer in Christ’s ministry through the exercise of almsgiving. In fact, in this document Ignatius takes the office of almoner for granted thus also implic- itly recognizing that not every Christian is called to the direct and immediate exercise of this task in regard to the poor nevertheless he exhorts almoners not to be content to work as mere functionaries, but to be inspi~red by the ministry on behalf of the poor that was exercised by Christ himself. Such an attitude ought to be t.he concern of every Christian without exception, each according to his vocation and state of life. Ig0atius, then, clearly intends this document directly, for a specific group of persons, At..the same time, however, he makes it clear that all Christians ought to have a special bond with the poor. There is another reason why this document is so often overlooked. It is the fact that the practice of aim sgiving no longer has today the honored p lace that this preeminent exercise of charity had in the time of Ignatius. In an older economic order it was principally by means of alms that the good will of the rich helped to correct excessive social inequality--th6ugh of course in a very imperfect.way. Saint Francis. the poor man of Assisi. had his brethren pray every day so that. thanks to therich, they could continue to be poor. Modern persons, however, even if they be poor. are no longer willing to be under anv kind of demeaning economic dependency. They expect and demand to receive from the state the means of a suitable livelihood as their right, not as something subject tb arbitrary distribution, nor dependent upon the mere ’~good will" of the "good rich"--an attitude that is the very opposite of what is involved in the practice of almsgiving. Too. the modern untrammeled esteem for the value of work tends to bring almsgiving into disfavor, not just because ¯ the practice is seen as an affront to human dignity, but also because it could so easily,,encourage idleness and sloth. Preferential Love for the Poor / 803
Ignatius and Help for the Poor in his day Ignatius had to face squarely this problem of helping the poor. When in 1535, hating just finished his studies in Paris. he was resting in his native air of Azpeitia. he found himself perforce involved in the overall spiritual renewal of the townspeople. The reform of, charitable works in the area could not but form a part of this general program of renewal. F~r Ignatius. there was a self-evident connection between the two. o On the one hand (and this was to be true of him later in Rome)~ Ignatius did not want to see the poor obliged to beg: all must ’simply be helped according to their need. On the other hand he positively ,encouraged-that all alms from whatever source, whether civic authorities,~’the clergy or the laity, be given to the official almoners (see MI Fontes Docum. 88: De Azpeitiaepaupe- ribus sublevandis: 1535-1542: MI Epp L 161-165, addre~s.ed tO the townspeople of Azpeitia). To avoid abuses, then. the poor ought not to have to seek alms or beg. Rather, the almoners should receive alms to be distributed to the poor. not in their own names, but "for the love of God" (MI Epp Xll, 656: lnsfruction of November, 1554). ~’ In reflecting on the m, eamng of this text. there is another facet that is important for understanding the spirituality of the Exercises. It consists in.the fact that for Ignatius himself the significance of aims had gradually taken on differing forms and purposes over the years. The "pilgrim" who in 1523 had wandered about the alleyways of Venice was a solitary mendicant who lived exclusively from alms. But the "companion" who in ! 537 lodged with some of his friends in a Venetian hospice for the poor. and who wished "to preach in poverty." also sought alms for the sake of being able "to help the poor." Heno longer sought alms only for himself, but also in order to help others. From 1540 on. Ignatius the "founder" gradually came to establish two coexisting but radically different regimens of community poverty for the na- scent Society of Jesus. without ever confusing them either in. theory (a relatively easy matter) or in practice (always a more delicate affair). In terms of. this twofold approach to ~community poverty, the "formed fathers." those whose training and incorporation into the Society were complete, would continue to live only from alms. while the colleges for the training of scholastics were tO have stable and~secure incomes in order to respond better to what the Church desired of them. Only in cases of extreme necessity wouM the seeking of alms become the last resort for the colleges, and then all the companions withoul exception would be "ready to beg from door to door" to meet the need. This is still our rule today. Material and Spiritual Poverty Once the "Roman" and "German" colleges had been started in 1550, Ignatius did all in his power to Search out suffi(ient and stable sources ofalms~ what we might call in the parlance of today’s economy, "to establish founda- 1~04 / Review f~r Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1984
¯ tions." However he was able to find nobody willing to give money liberally: neither princes, nor civic authorities, nor bishops. Even in those days, it seems, money was being squandered on wars--often in the name of religion. In fact Ignatius once wrgte: "After spending so much on material arms to support religionin Germany, it wouldnot be too great a burden if the emperor spared something for spiritual arms which could more effectively gain what is intended" (14 Sept., 1555, to Francis Borgia: MI Epp IX, 614). Considerable sums were being sought and here one sees a further devel- opment in the Ignatian concept of poverty, for these funds were being sought no longer for the sake of those who were economically poor, but for the formation of future priests who were called to help the spiritually poor. The Ignatius who dreamed in 1522 of living off alms alone, like the Egyptian hermit, Onophrius, thirty years later came to discover "God in all things," even in "Egypt"--his expression for the "business dealings" connected with almsgiving that were so necessary to meet the Church’s needs. In his spiritual pilgrimage, Ignatius learned to take se.,riously the admoni- tion of the Lord: "He who does not gather with me, scatters" (Lk 1 !:23). For him, alms meant "gathering" with the Lord on behalf of his brothers, the poor. It is no wonder, then, that the Spiritual Exercises should include Rules for the Distribution of Alms. through which their whole, rich spiritual doctrine is applied to the very practical and relevant necessity to help the impoverished and suffering through almsgiving and indeed through the giving of one’s very self. The Spiritual Exercises and Aims for the Poor ~ The mere presence of this text On the. distribution of alms in the book of the Spiritual Exercises witnesses to the fact that the Exercises are indeed geared to "the saJvation of souls," but this spirituality faces up to poverty .of whatever sort. Thus material poverty is addressed in these Rules for the Distribution of Alms. [337-344], as is spiritual poverty, for instance in Some Notes Concerning Scruples [345-351]. The contents of the rules on almsgiving also clarifies for us the motivation that led the Society of Jesus from its earliest days to become involved in helping the poor. Already during,the bitter winter of 1538-39, Rome’s sole Jesuit house sheltered 400 poor people, Ignatius himself, although utterly absorbed in the government of the young Society, and while still continuing to give the Exer- cises, .also did all he could for the poor and oppressed of Rome. In other words, if its version of the Good News is not proclaimed and expressed in a practical way for the poor, the message of the Spiritual Exercises will rightly be seen as futile and lacking in authenticity. There is yet another document which bears out this characteristic of his spirituality, namely Ignatius’ letter to the Patriarch. of Ethiopia. Against the backdrop of Ethiopian asceticism with its .innumerable and excessive penitential practices, Ignatius instructed the Jesuits to work toward lessening the popular Preferential Love for the Poor / 805 esteem for these excessive corporal penances in order to draw more attention to the need of working for the poor. In a nation where social concern was so minimal, Ignatius wanted to found hospitals,.to provide help for the poor by the exhortation to almsgiving both privately and in public, to ransom prisoners, to educate the abandoned, and to help young men and unwanted girls to se.ttle down in marriage. "Thus," he wrote, "the Ethiopians will seein a palpable way that there are better works than their own fasts and suchlike" (MI Epp VIII, 680-690, April, 1555). Such distortions have often been a problem, and not just in the Eastern churches. Aims "for the Love of God" Finally, the pertinence of these rules to the text of the Spiritual Exercises is explained by the simple formula which sums up the only basis for almsgiving that is acceptable to the spirituality of the Exercises: "for the love of God." Jesuits, and all who seek or give alms, should do so "for the love of God." Alms are a way of giving concrete expression to the beatitude ~vhich Was so lovingly addressed to the poor. As they appear in the text, then, these norms guide one’s process of discernment for the practice of this concrete e~pression of the love of God. ’ ~ Recent commentaries on the Exercises generally judge severely any retreat centered exclusively on a prayer experience that is turned in on the person of the exercitant in some narcissistic fashion.. The exp,ression solus cum solo is not meant ,to isolate a person with a solitary God. Rather it is intended to express the appropriate relationship that ought to prevail between a "self" who has received everything from others, who is also called to be for. others, and a God who reveals himself precisely as "God with us~" Despite the frequent use of the first person in the text ofthe Exercises-- which always points to personal responsibility and involvement~the com- mentaries stress the profoundly communitarian character of the Exercises, character which is clearly in evidence right from the Principle and Foundation. Any person’s authentic search for God necessarily entails that person’s insertion into the human community. Conversely, any person’s total commitment to hu .manity could only be the result of that person’s discovery of the love of God. The First Rule for the Distribution of Alms Love "from Above .... After these reflections on the historical and spiritual contexts of the Riales for the Distribution of Aims, let us now examine the first of these rules: If I distribute alms to my relatives or friends or persons to whom I am attached, there are four things that must be considered: Some of these were mentioned in treating the Choice of a Way of Life. The first is that the love that moves me and causes me to give the alms must be "from above," that is, from the love of God our Lord. Hence I should be conscious within myself that Gbd is the motive of the greater or less love that I bear towa~:d these persons, and that God is manifestly the cause of my loving them more [338]. 80B / Review for ~Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1984"
This rule immediately situates any gift of alms within agape, the love that, in Ignatius’ terms, comes ’"from above." In no way, then, should this text be seen as intending to provide merely a psychological preparation for, or .a religious exhortation to, charitable acts. It is not a pep talk for generous giving, nora way of spiritualizing the fundamental human instinct for solidarity. We should also avoid interpreting this rule in a way that merel3i invites to "purity of intention," Taking up anew an Augustinian inspiration which had previously appeared in the First Rule for Making a Good Choice of a Way of Life [184], this norm for distributing alms, while it does not in any way exclude philia (see the reference to "affection for relatives and friends"), does urge that phil[a be caught up and transformed by agape, "the love that,., must descend "from above" [184]. ~ . The expression "from above" also recalls the fourth point from the Con- templation to Attain the Lov.e of God [237]. God, the infinite ~treasury of all good, is in his trinitarian mystery both Gift and Giver of Gifts (see [237]). If, then, the giving of alms is to be divine--and therefore true and authentic--it must find its rationale within the dynamic of this mutual exchange of gifts, this loving movement of the gifts which "descend from above" [237]. There are a number of examples illustrative of this principle in Ignatian literature, Even in the most complicated of business affairs Ignatius kept his vision, of the lov~e ’’from above" alive. Thus, for example, he exchanged some ten letters, with a certain Bernardino’ Taro from Naples who had offered to sell his house in a complex deal involving some suspicious price fluctuations. A charitable work was involved, the payment was difficult, the Society sought a discount, and the benefactor became irritated. In all the correspondence, though, even while dealing with the complicated finances involved, Ignatius kept the whole transaction within the horizon of the loving movement that comes "from above," as when he wrote: "Let us pray that the Divine Goodness may grant us ’all the grace to be sensitive to his most holy will" (May 17, 1556, MI Epp X1, p, 411). It was not just by chance, then~ that Ignatius wrote on September 16, 1553 tO the, royal treasurer of Aragon, who had generously acted to convey mes- sages between the Jesuits of Spain and of Rome: "May God our Lord, whose love should be the foundation and norm of all love, repay you by increasing his love in your soul to just such an extent .... For as there is nothing good witho, ut this love, so no!hing is lacking where it is present" (MI Epp V, pp. 488-489). The norm, then, for the appropriate distribution of alms is not, per se, our human solidarity, certainly it is not just philanthropy, but the agap~ of God himself, which takes flesh, in our human capacity to give and to forgive. The effort expended in undergoing the Spiritual Exercises so as "to rid oneself of all inordinate attachments" [1], is aimed precisely a,! allowing the divine t;gapP to take possession of our capacity to love. Thus t,he Rules for the Preferential Love for the Poor / 1107
Distribution of Alms have no other purpose than to put into practical effect what the Apostle John says in his First Letter: the man who does not love his brother most surely cannot be said to love God; and no one truly loves his brother unless it be with the love of God who first loved us (see l Jn 4:19-21). In this Ignatian concepiion, then, the principal criterion by which to judge one’s preferential love for the poor is decidedly on the basis of .whether that love truly comes "from above," and does not rest on the simple fact that one is giving aid to one’s poor brother. In other words, thee value of such a charitable act is to be judged in the measure in which me_re philanthropy has been taken up and transformed by divine agape: Service of the poor, to be sure! But before all else, service ,in my name," if it is to be true and authentic. Love "from Above"." for the Poor This first of the Rules for the Distribution of Alms, then, bringsphilia and agape.face to face with each other. "To give to those to whom one is attached by relationship or friendship" is not. automatically "ordered towards the love~ of God that comes from above"~except insofar as such a gift would actually reflect a preferential loye for the poor even in being given to oneYs own. We can find the interplay betweenphilia and agap~ that is evoked by this first rule applied in a realistically practical way in a letter from Ignatius to the Archdeacon of Barcelona, Jaime Cassador (February 12, 1536): "I mean, it. would be better to give to the poor when our relatives are not as poor as those, who are not relatives. But, other things being equal, I have more obligations to my relatives thar~’:to others Who are not relatives" (MI Epp I, pp. 93-99). In other words, attachment even to relatives and friends must be caught up into the divine agape: the poor are to be preferred even above relatives unless these are themselves poor. . ’
Love ’from Above"." for All the Poor The collection of Ignatian texts we have cited with r6gard to the first of the Rules for the Distribution of Alms raises a delicate question. The preferential love. for the materially poor is quite clearly a manifestation, an "epiphany" of the love that comes "from above," going as it does beyond philanthropy or the love (phil¢a) tha,~t is exercised towards one’s relatives and friends. The well-ordered practice of this~ divine love (agape) clearly makes possible many social initiatives in the service of the economically po0~r. The fact that this love is not to be directed exclusively to the economically poor and socially marginalized springs from the Ignatian conviction th.at, in the last analysis, almsgiving is not meant to enable persons merely to become economically rich, but to enable persons to become rich in God’s eyes~ to use the expression of St. Luke. Our free response to the love of God makes us deeply sympathetic toward the hopes of poor people under every form and at every level of genuinely human choice, but not in the pursuit of any and every messianic drehm, nor of any and every political or social option. Review.for Religious, NOv,-Dec., 1984
If in the text of the Spiritual ExerHses the use of the word "poor" is quite rare~ it is only at the end of the doc~aments on Election and in the Rules for the Distribuiion,,of"Alms that the term "poor" appears in its strictly social and economic sense (see [344] as an.application of [189]: Directions for the Amendment and Reformation of One’s Way of Living in His State of Life). There.is no doubt at all that, after the example of the Gospel, the primary concern of the Spiritual Exercises is the conversion of hearts to the love that is "from bove ;~’w~thout such a conversion, all social activity, even the most generous, would already be found lacking, for its aim would not be "the human person taken as a whole." Why was there already urged insistently in the Old Testament the obligation to help the poor? It was not to make the poor economically rich, but because a person without money--in this sense "poor"--is not a "complete person" in the image of the love of God. A social revolution undertaken without agap~ means, and cannot but rlaean, death and hatred. As is well known, the Old Testament prophets;and finally’John the Baptist, expri~ssed themselves on social and economic matters in radical, even literally violent fashion. On this point, compared to the invec- tives of the prophetS, Christ’s message seems like a comedown. And yet his "new Commandment," which should, according to Ignatius [338], be the root s’ourceoof the human love that finds its expression in almsgiving, possesses a r~adicality and an unprecedented newness that are quite capable of tra~nsfoi’ming humanity. In other words, Ignatius affirms in the Exercises that the human search for God is not authentic if it does not express itself in a loving commitment to the world of the poor: but. conversely, there is no perfect commitment to the cause of humanity, and concretely to the cause of the poor, unless it’ be the fruit of one’s personal discovery of the love of God that comes "from above."
Love "from Above"." Opposed to All Poverty The cri/icisms offered in regard to theologies of social justice and of libera- tion do not call into question the urgency of the political, social and economic concerns that inspire these theologies. But the whole of God’s revelation to the world cannot ~ever be restricted to a merely political, gocial and economic liberation, nor even to the gen’eral idea of freedom as such. Thes+ theologies do righily present one aspect of theology taken iri its entirety. In practice, theology ought to demand that the Church ’strive to reform the whole wbrld under every aspect according to the spirit of Christ. But the Church’s option for the poor:should not be intended in a~way that would jeopardize the offer of salvation to all persons, the offer of that liberation which is the gratuitous gift of God proffered to all humanity. In struggling for liberation and justice, the Christian is called, not to curse those who have possessions, but to encourage theha also toward conversion to Christ. The Exercises ought never be limited to a single apostolic objective, To speak~ for purposes of illustration, of the time of Ignatius,’ the Exercises were Preferential Love for the Poor / 809
never .focused exclusively upon the struggle against emerging Protesiantism alone, n6r upon the evangelization of the European masses alone, nor upon the refor~n of a corrupt ’clergy alone, nor upon missionary efforts overseas alone. In the same way in our own day, the Exercises should not be used only to arouse zeal for the social betterment of the oppressed, nor only for the better- ment of peoples who live in subhuman conditions. The Exercises are meant to stir each person who enters upon them to a radical gift of self, and it is going to be through this radical gift of oneself that the Lord is going to be perceived as calling that person "by name." This is the overall vision that Ignatius had. Like the Lord, he too had an evident preference for the poor, but he saw the poor as "persons" rather than as just ’,the poor." We shall find in him no trace of any kind of paternalistic pity--itself a subtle but real form of domination. And without this kind of respectful regard for persons, one has no right to approach the poor.
The Second Rule I will only make a few brief comments on the Other rules contained in this passage from .the Spiritual Exercises. The second rule to be observed in regard to the distribution of alms [339]:draws ~its inspiration from the second rule for . making a good election [185]. Here again, it is proposed that one abstract from one’s :own individuality, .that one c6nsider oneself as an unknown, a person who is met for the first time, but who is esteemed, and for whom there is the desire for all perfection in the exercise of his or her office or state of life. In fact, all the rules to be observed for a suitable distribution of alms contain this same positive and rich outlook on all other persons, on our neighbors. The perfection that we ought to desire for others’ as well as our- selves in distributing alms and in the exercise of our preferential love for the poor consists really:Sin wanting us and them to become other Christs. While one can makelife hell forthe neighbor, one can also be a source of living hope as well.! Ignatius’ love for poverty was really and wholly a love for the person of the poor Christ (see [ 167]). Ignatius longed to be poor himself because Christ was poor. He longed to be poor as Christ was poor. In the same way, then, he proposes that Jesus must be the one who inspires us in the way that we go about distributing aims and serving the poor. To put it another way, we need to enter into Jesus’ own way of exercising his preferential 10ve for the poor. Here the distinction between poverty and riches in the Spiritual Exercises becomes important: Spiritual poverty in the Exercises readily takes on the form of gratuity as opposed to greed. The gratuity urged by Ignatius for Jesuit ministries, for :instance, contrasts, and is intended’ to contrast, with even the ¯ appearance of"business" or of the "marketplace’~in our approach to ministries, to ecclesiastical~offices and benefices, to the distribution of alms themselves. Powerful or rich persofls who always have others at their beck and call do 8"10 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1984 not expect.anyLhing in return beyond a calculated, response based on quidpro quo. TheLord in the Gospel, however, is portrayed as being poor. His:service is always freely given, without a hint of such calculating expectation. To remove the ministry ofalmsgiving, then, from every suspicion of interestedness, to decline gifts ’which automatically elicit gifts in return, to prefer to give .freely to those who count.for little in the world of vested interests--this is to be poor with and for the Lord who was poor. ~Gratuity, then, is a sign expressi~,e ~f the potential for radical change in human societythat could be created~--but only by the love that~is "fromabove." In the Old Testament, the paschal mystery of the Exodus had already given evidence of our human incapacity to chang.e society through our own resour- ces alone, of the impossibility of ever really convening Pharaoh, of ever becoming satisfied with any mere social teaching~that is aimed at bettering the lot of human beings. Only God, through his gratuitous gifts, can create a new humanity, a humanity "without poor people" (Ac 4:34), a society where the "poor~’ of the ExoduS will live the "new commandment" of God’s free self-giving. The Third and Fourth Rules The third [340] and fourth [341] rules for distributing alms present yet another characteristic of the Lord who is poor. If a person were to consider himself or herself in the light of eternity, the realization would soon dawn that, of all the riches he~ld: nothing really belongs to the~person, that the person is forever receiving, in order then to be able to give, and, in keeping with-the Judgment of the Trinitarian God, ultimately to give oneself t’o others with and through his or her gifts. This ’,eternal Judgment" is actually the Lord of the Cross who died stripped of all, in the utter poverty not just the poverty of one who dies bereft of all possessions, but the poverty of one who dies~as a complete failure. , , , Here, then, is another Characteristic of the divine agapP:’ a way of giving to another that ultimately comes even to the giving of one’s life. It is at this point in the Spiritual Exercises that Ignatius increasingly uses the words "humble," "humility; .... humiliation." It is impossible to love divinely in a possessive or domineering way. A preferential love for the poor couM be ideological, patti, san, selective, paternafistic. But as a passage in the Treatise on the .Election (1541) by Pedro Ortiz~explains, Ignatian "humility" is the divine way~ of loving. And the divine way of loving, revealed in Christ Jesus,,(onsiSts inthe humble offering of oneself for others that they may live. It is in this more profound sense that the rules for distributing alms urge a person to "imitate as closely as he can our great High Priest, model and guide, Christ~our Lord" [344]. Our preferential love .for the poor, if authentic, will move .through inevitable humiliations toward a love that refuses to be either condescending or domi- neering, that refuses to imp.ose itself by power or violence. The desire of humble love, of "humility" in the lgnatian sense, is,~then, the prayer toincar- nate the Paschal Mystery in a way that will arrive at this kind of radical Preferential Love for the Poor ] 811 poverty with Christ poor, whether this relates just to desire--the readiness to give oneself as the Lord wants, or to the realization of desire the actual giving of o~eself to those specific poor persons to whom the Lord sends one.
The Remaining Rules The rest of the rules proposed by Ignatius for distributing alms explain still more clearly the practice of almsgiving which, in the terms of St. John Chrys- 9stom. was to be the human e?~pression of God’s compassion. Ignatius encourages the kind of generous and unstinting distribution of resources that would inevitably require a simplification in the lifestyle of the almsgiver [344]. In this way there is no room in the asceticism proposed by the Rules for the Distribution of Aims for the kind of spiritualizing that would permit an abstract definition of personal spiritual poverty. That person is not poor who shuns the thought of death. Nor is the person poor who ensures his or her own security by storing up provisions for the future. It is rather the person who opts for insecurity through gratuitous giving, who offers out of his or her own necessity personal goods to others, and who giyes, himself or herself in them. "To be poor," then, means not just giving what is superfluous, but the ceaseless calling into ’question, both at the personal and at the community level, one’s habits in’ the matter of food~ dres~s~: living quarters, en!ertainment-- not just for the sake of thrift,’ but in order to be able to, give to others--to the poor. Conclusion In a letter to Father Lorenzo of M6dena (May 16. 1556) Ignatius wrote: "You must understand that our Society, in its ~ractice of a umversal charity towards all nations and classes of men. does not approve cultivating particular affection for one people or for any.individual person.~except in the measure that well-ordered love.requires" (MI Epp XL pp. 408-409). " Guided by such well-ordered love--the love which looks to "the spiritual" works which are more important’~ (Constitutions, [650]), because the goal is the whole human pers, on-~we are to dedicate ourselves to thecorporal works of mercy, among which commitment to the poor takes pride of place. And so in a ~single movement of love. Ignatius,~is both attached a.nd detached. He lives a humble love which, as we have translated it here. is the love that comes "from above." The Exercises. a school of Christian freedom, in leading beyond "philan- thropy," gives to the preferential love for the poor for all the poor_--its truly Christian dimension. It is seen as our free response to that love, for the poor which God revealed in the poor Christ. who is himself rich in the Spirit To Divest or Not to Divest: Moral Investments and Immoral Purposes
Michael H. Crosby, O F.M. Cap.
Of this present article, Father Crosby writes: "A growing number of Catholic and Protestant groups are deciding to divest from their shares in companies involved in the nuclear armaments ch~iin. The process [utilized by] the Midwest Capuchin Franciscans serves as a case study." This experience can certainly serve as occasion for reflection on the difficult and complex task of bringing spiritual conviction to bear on actual life situations. Father Crosby, author of Spirituality of the Beatitudes, is Project Coordinator of the National Catholic Coalition for Responsible Investment. He is also Corporate Responsibility Agent for the Midwest Capuchin Province. Father Crosby may be addressed at Beatitude Program; 10i6 North Ninth Street; Milwaukee, WI 53233.
Durin _the last two weeks of April and the first weeks of May, more corporate shareholder meetings are held than at any other time of the yeai’. High on the list of concerns by church-related groups of shareholders is .the issue of nuclear weapons production. This year, as in the past, the church groups" concerns were coordinated through the New York based Interfaith Center on Corporate Responsibility (ICCR), the action arm of Protestant church,Catholic diocesan, and religious order investors concerned about the social impact 0f’business corporations and the application of social criteria to their own investments. For this spring’s annual meetings, eight companies involved in different stages ’of the fiuclear weapons chain received shareholder resolutions from groups affiliated with ICCR. Some resolutions were subsequently disallowed by th’e Securities. and Exchange Commission, but several were to be debated on the floor of the annual meetings. For last year’s meeting of AT&T, at least sixty-five groups filed a resolu- tion requesting the company not to renew its contract with the U.S. Govern- 812 To Divest or Not to Divest / 813 ment to manage the Sandia National Laboratories which carries out research and.development on nuclear weapons systems. Yet this year only forty groups filed witli AT&T calling for the company to establish criteria for military contracts and to terminate its nuclear weapons contracts. Similarly, for .the 1983 annual meeting of Geheral Electric, over forty groups, asked GE to consult with experts about and to support the nuclear freeze by declining to accept or to renew contracts involv!ng the development or production of nuclear’weapons~ Yet this year only thirty-one groups filed with GE asking the company to develop criteria for acceptance of military contracts. Why has there bee~ such a decline in the number of fliers in just one year? Has the U.S. Catholic Bishops statemeht The Challenge of Peace: God’s Promise and Our Response fallen on ’deaf ears? Is it due to a lack of resolve and follow-through? Or is it becausethe new SEC rules make it more difficult to return to companies on an issue when the previou~ year’s voting has been small? According to Ursuline Sister Valerie Heinonen, ICCR’s Military Work Group Coordinator, it is hone of the above. It is, she believes, "primarily because the Roman Catholic agencies in particular carried out divestment statements or were working on divestment positions and were in the process of implementing them." My Midwest Capuchin Franciscan Provinceis one of those groups that filed with ’AT&T and GE (along with Tenneco, Dupont and Rockwell Interna- tional) last year but did notdo so this year because of our newly-inaugurated divestment posture. In rearhing this decision, we joined such Protestant denominations as the United’ Presbytbrians and th6 United Church 6f Christ as well as many Catholic dioceses and ’orders, including the Salvatorian Sisters of Milwaukee and th~ Franciscan Sisters of Philadelphia. As early as April, 1982 the Adrian (MI) Dominican Sisters’ general congregation declared: The c~ngregation will take a public stand for peace-making by di’.vestin~ itself, within ¯ one year. of stock currently held in the top one hundreff~diffense contractors. The portfolio managers will be instructed by the general council not to invest in these companies unless some stock is requested by the Portfoli6 AdvisofyBoard in anticipa- tion of filing a shareholder resolution. A few years ago, as Corporate Responsibility Agent for my Province, I was against divestment; yetl was concerned about the issue. I recall being part of a discussion group that struggled to define the many complex issues that must be considered in dealing with divestment: How can we balance the "peace statements" of our bishops and congregations with nuclear holdings? How do we distinguish between’.direct and indirect involvement via our stocks? Should we have stock in an), company that is part of a system that many believe is doing so much harm to so many? If we:are to do "good" via our ministries, to what degree can we do so because of "evil" returns’ from questionable corporations? Should we distinguish between nuclear and con- ventional arms? Is capitalism morally evil? Or is it inorally neutral, but with some practices that are evil? Why pick on the nuclear armaments companies? 814 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1984
How do we deal with the balance of terror? How does the Nuremberg princi- ple of .culpability apply that all citizens are responsible, for their govern- ment’s decisions, and will be held liable by humanity? Divestment has no impact on companies, except for a one-hour press c0nference~, so why not stay in and fight? Have we exhausted alternatives? If we do divest,.should it be total or should we keep a few shares to "keep the pressure on?" While no papal or episcopal statements tn the Catholic Church have called for divestment in companies involved ih the nuclear armaments chain, there are many pronouncements that touch the issue. In Pacem ~in Terris, John XXIII said, "the arms race should cease." Paul Vlsaid at the UN, "let the weapons fall from .your a os, and, in Populorum Progressio, "every exhausting armaments race becomes an intolerable scandal." John Paul II said at Hir0shima. in 1981, "let us promise our fellow h~man beings that we will work untiringly for disarmament and the banishing of all nuclear wea- pons." In March, 1984, a top Vatican spokesperson warned an international conference on European disarmamgnt that a poli~y of nuclear deterrence (the backbone of the U.S. bishops justificatio, n of the U.S..nuclear arsenal) leads to mistrust and escalation of Lthe arms race. Meanwhi!e, in their pastoral leiter, the U.S. bishops called upon Catholics at every level of defense industries... [to] use th~ moral principles of this letter to form their consciences~. . .°. Those who m conscience decide that they should no longer be associated with defense activities should find support in the Catholic commumty. Those who remain in these industries or earn a profit from the weapons industry should find in the Church guidance and support for the ongoing evaluation of their work. From my reading 9f the bishops’ statement, "ongoing evaluation" of involvement in the production of such weapons ultimately should lead to disassociation from-the companies. But what about those dioceses, religious orders and lay investors tha.t are "making a profit from the weapons industry" via their stocks and bonds? What about our "ongoing evaluation" leading to possible disassociation? Stich statements nudged me to begin rethinking my position about possible divestment. The issue, it seems, is not whether churches, dioceses, or congregations support or. don’t support unilateral disarmameht on the part of the United States. Divestment has little or nothing to do with disarmament. More and more the question is: Should we be involved in producing more weapons, especially since each side. has enough weapons to kill the other scores of times over?..How can more.weapons be produced when the arms race has been condemned. So on this issue we’re not talking about disarmamenti just about not building more. We~’re talking about the three additional bombs built each day, and the ,ever-more sophisticated delivery systems being created. I was beginning to ask questions like these when the provincial council of my Midwest Capuchin Provinc.e ~asked its Justice and Peace Committee, of which 1 am a member, to prepare a position paper on the subject of. our holdings in nuclear armaments manufacturers so that it could determine how To Divest or Not to Divest / ~115
to deal with the provincial portfolio. Some might wonder why the followers of the Poor Man of Assisi should even have a portfolio. Their concern is shared by many of us, yet we find ourselves m a predicament. The Province has almost three hundred men. Because of decisions in the past, it now owns and operates fiv~ retreat houses which need ~provincial maintenance. It owns and operates the largest minor seminary in the United States. While it has many men in white, middle-class parishes, a large number also serve in Black, Hispanic and Native American areas, including the Cheyenne and Crow reservatiohs in Montana. From three of its inner-city locations in Wisconsin and Michigan, it runs meal programs, including Detroit’s famous "Capuchin Soup Kitchen." Besides having preachers and hospital chaplains and campus ministers, our members serve in Central America, the Pacific, Australia and the Near East. The dividends from the portfolio, along with salaries and donations, constitute the arinual provin- cial income budget. Since the province is highly involved in work among the poor and for social justice (on.ly one hundred or so members actually draw salaries), the portfolio’s dividends are currently needed to meet normal operating expenses. All annual revenues beyond the budget are allocated to the poor or for social justice causes--unless some extraordinary expense’needs to be,met, such as helping to repair a leaking roof in one of our inner city parishes in Milwaukee (which, .by historical happenstance, is incorporated in the name of the pro- vince rather than of the diocese). Two members of.the Justice and Peace Commission developed a position paper on divestment for the provincial council: Francis Dombrowski, who was trained as a moral theologian; l, the second author, have background in Franciscan spirituality and corporate responsibility. We were to investigate the ethical issues and our Franciscan charism to,determine what we might recomm(nd to the provincial council. It was decided that, rather than leave the decision to the council, (which earlier had divested from Upjohn.because of its manufacture of an abortifacient), ~his time the province’s membership at large would be asked to become involved in making the decision. The paper was divided into four major sections: I) The facts behind th~ dilemma presented by the province’s shareholdings; 2) Basic principles to be used to determine continued participation in the. manufacture of nuclear-re- lated weapons; 3) An application of the Franciscan charism to the signs of our times; and 4) A proposal for action by the province. The Facts The first section outlined the situation of. the. arms race, our participation in it via our stocks and bonds~ plus the fact that the companies at issue also did much good: , Our province has invested over a quarter of a million tlollars in some of these compan- ies with government contracts for nuclear weaponry. Thus we°’~re receiving income ~116 / Review.[br Religious, Nov.-Dec:, 1984
precisely because these weapons are being built at a profit to the company and to us as~ shareholders.. Iris true that these companies’make many products and items that promote good for others; For instance, G,~neral Electric is a company in which our Province has 210 .. shares (worth $19,924.00 as of December 31, 1982). We also.have $~0,000 in bonds in General Electric Credit Corporation. GE makes a body scanner which hospitals have found invaluable in saving lives; yet GE is one of the seven companies that actually makes components for the hydrogen bomb and is also involved in building the MX missile system. In 1981 GE received $3 billion in military contracts from .the United States government, accounting for I I% of its sales. This, means, in actual fact, that our province is cooperating in the production of nuclear weapons by investing money in the companies that build them. ~ The paper went on to explaiwthat holding shares does not make stock- holders proximate cooperators nor principal agents in the actioi~’s of the companies. Yet it made it clear that "we are remote cooperators in’a very.real way as owners who receive dividends from our investments and interest on ou~ bonds to sustain our way of life. Because we are shareholders and partial owners, we have s6me responsibility to make surethe companies in which we invest are not involved inactivities that counter our Franciscan vision of life." The province has adapted the steps outlined in Mt 19 (go and talk, on the word of two or three; take itto the court)in trying to get companies to change "activities that counter our way of.life,:’ especially through its membership in ICCR. Since 1976 it either voted its proxies, filed resolutions, or s~oken at, annual meetings of companies involved in nuclear armaments. It bought ten shares of Rockwell International to dialogue with the company which, along with Allied (Bendix), AT&T, GE, Dupont, Monsanto, Pentax and Union Carbide (at that time), actually produced those components which would " make the nuclear weapons operational. 1 was one of three or four on a negotiating team which has,engaged in ongoing dialogue with Dupont.about its involvement. So, as a province, we had been trying to make our concerns known to the corporations. Having reviewed the way we had tried to bring the Gospel. of Peace to the "~houses" of these corporations (see Mt 10:12-15); we now had to ask ourselves: "Since these companies give no indication of change in policy and ciSntinue to accept defensb contracts that will further build up our nuclear arsefials, the question israised: What is the next step in dealing with these companies: more dialogue -- or divestment? Basic Principles 2) The second section of our position paper developed principles to be used in determining our continued participation in the manufacture of nuclear weapons~ It distinguished nuclear weapons from conventional weapons, and singled out "top" defense contractors because of the difficulty in determining the degree of involvement. Can a company like Exxon or Mobil, which provides gas for military trucks, be put in the same category as General To Divest or Not to Divest
Dynamics, which makes airplanes and nuclear submarines that can deliver nuclear bombs? The principles included a lengthy treatment of just-war defense and the. -attitude of non-violence. The next area taken up dealt with deterrence. The paper shared why its ~position differed from that of the bishops by not accepting deterrence as a viable rationale. In this difference~,with the bishops’ ,approach, the. paper reiterated the position of the leadership of the Conference of Major Superiors of Men, The paper noted: There is also a moral question as to whether or not we can threaten to use nuclear weapons against a country to keep it under control. It is morally wrong to use such weapons even against a limited target because the effects of radiation would be deadly , for many beyond the target. There is no proportion between any good achieved and the untold destruction in the aftermath. If it is immoral to use these weapons, it is also immoral to in’tend to use them as a threat. The mere verbal threat to use them against ~ another nation with the secret intent not to actually use them is unrealistic. The threat is effective only if the intention to use them is real. The position the paper took seems to differ little from the way the Vatican thought seems to have been evolving, especially given its recent, March statement at the European disarmament conference. The final part of the "Principles" section considered principles for cooperation and "non-cooperation in evil. The two traditional points were made quite clear:
One who by his/her approval, vote~ consent, together with others causes harm knowingly is guilty of i,njustice~and is obliged to make restitution in proportion to the efficacy of his/her consent. Cooperation means helping or assisting another in the performance of an~ injustice. Whoever takes an active part in an unjust action is guilty of the injustice if his/her efficacious cooperation is formal, that is, intended and deliberate. Material cooperation means not really wanting the injustice, but helping in it or contributing to it without a sufficient reason. Ordinarily, materia, I cooperation is morally wrong. According to traditional Catholic teaching, however, material cooperation is per- mitted if (and only if) two conditions are fulfilled: . a. The manner of one’s cooperation is not a morally evil’act in itself, but only some participation or contribution to the evil or injustice done by another. b. The reason for one’s cooperation is sufficiently important and proportionate to the ~:vil involved. By the time I r~ad the r~aterial presented by Francis Dombrowski, especially the principles related to (non)cgoperation, I had begun to believe that it would b,e difficu!t, if not impossible, for us t6 justify crntinued holdings in ,n~uclear armaments companies. This growing conviction was reinforced when I realized our portfolio could be diversified without any serious financial loss. We had. no "sufficient reason" to continue material cooperation. When I was definitely leaning this way, it was my research into the Franciscan charism that finally made me convinced that we could no longer hold stock in such companies. 81B / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1984
Application The third section of the paper noted that the times when Francis lived in Assisi vis~-vis wars and preparation for war were similar to our own era. According to Arnoldo Fortini, a biographer of Francis.and former mayor of° Assisi, war was "a condition of life for every city?: A militaristic way ’of thinking and acting became normative of the way opposing groups settled their differencesl Groups armed themselves to threaten their enemies, and were ready to use those arms to destroy their enemies in order to preserve their way of life, Fortini notes of the Christians of that era that they were so controlled by such an attitude that ?they could~not even imagine a faith that was not sustained by military skill." Within such an environment, Francis began to imagine a f~ith that did not need to be buttressed through armaments. It would be a way that society would p~erceive as totally alien to its way of operating and dealing with opposition. The paper noted: In the face of the militarism of his fellow citizens, Francis realized they were not about to change their ways: So he and his followers had to "divest" themselves of those ways. Thus the friars were not to acquire property, lest they take up arms to protect it. For their part, the laity ~fellow citizens as well) would bring the Franciscan charism to beai upon their lives and society through non-cooperation. They would not be able to bear any ii~thal weapons if they were to be faiihful to Frdncis’ vision of life in that militaristic" milieu .... it seems quite clear that his society shrouded in faith and religion the manufacture, use and deployment of lethal~ weapons. Francis’ "No" must be applied to our day’as well. If Francis said no, and if Jesus said "No" to Peter who wanted to use a weapon of violence for self-protection, our response too can only be "no more of this" (Lk 22:51). What other response can we make, not as citizens of Assisi, but of the United Stfites, but to separate ourselves from this way of settling disputes and dealing with our enemies? We have been born as citizens of~the United States; we have unknowingly accumulated shares in companies manufacturing nuclear weapons. But we can choose now to respond to these realities with the,charism of Francis. ~ Proposal for Action 4) The final part of the paper presented a "Proposal for Action ’by the Province" which built on the previous three sections. After a summary of the main issues, the paper concluded that a nuclear war of defense cannot be morally justified because it,,does not discriminate between combatants and non-combatants, and’ damage inflicted would be greater~than the good to be obtained. It noted that the Gospel of Peace and nonviolence, combine~d with the Franciscan call for peacemaking in a way that refused the’~bearing of arms, called us to a stance of nonviolence and nbncooperation. Next, the’~,paper countered ’~the present position justifying deterrence on the grounds that it lacked solid moral underpinnings, as well as the evident fact that the possession of weapons did not help ,negotiations, but had instead increased the arms race. Th~ next point called for a freeze of further production of~veapons.. ThissuEport for a nuclear freeze was followed by noting that a threat of"first To Divest or NOt to Divest ] 819 strike" is incompatible with the just-war theory and a nonviolent position and "has been directly condemned in the U.S. bishops’ pastoral on war and peace." Finally, the paper again presented the dilemma of having stock in nuclear armaments companies and reached the conclusion: Since these nuclear weapons and their systems are being produced by corporations in which we have investments and since we, as a province, are making money on the production of these weapons, we feel it is an unjustified form of material cooperation to continue our investments. The good products these same companies manufacture and sell in no way can compensate for the incalculable destruction these weapons can inflict and forthe tremendous fear, mistrust and intrigue that the possession of such weapons causes between nations and peoples, not to mention the misuse of natural resources. technology and money that could be used for jobs and for the poor and hungry of the World. Given the paper’s rationale, the provincial council recommended to the. province’s membership a "clear decision of divestment from corporations that have major nuclear weapons contracts from the government." A criteria to determine "major" was fixed at $10 million. . Furthermore, the,council recommended that there should be total divest- ment rather than to keep a few token shares to continue to pressure the companies, as groups like the Adrian Dominicans have decided to do. Whether there should be total divestment or’whether a few token shares should be held to continue to pressure companies can certainly be debated. Sr. Valerie Heinonen believes those divesting should h~ld on to some shares~,or else "we’re losing a forum. I don’t see how we can reach corporate manage- ment if.we don’t have at least some stock." When the position paper was presented to the province along with the recommendations of the Council. a large percentage (77%) of the membership responded, two-hundred and ten in all. Three choices had been offered: 1) we should divest for the reasons indicated in the paper; 2) we should not divest but continue our present corporate responsibility efforts; and 3) we should not divest and not continue our corporate responsibility efforts. One-hundred fifty-four (73.33%) voted for divestment, fo.rty-nine (23.33%) said there should be continued corporate responsibility efforts and a small number, seven (3~.33%), said we should do neither. ¯ The fact that over 96% of the respondents felt Jomething had to be done indicated, a deep concern about .this issue ...... Given the evolution of thinkin~g about this issue by many of us in the province, plus the growing number of groups th.a,t are beginning to divest, it is clear that this is an issue which won’t be going away.. In many ~vays, our Franciscan charism might have helped make our corporate decision as one, sided as it turned out to be. Y~t. whether other groups decided to divest or not to divest demands a ~erious investigation, given their charism and/or mission staterfients. All will have to face the dilemma squarely; it is a matter of si .mply bringing our faith to bear on the modern world. General Government: Its Leadership Role Today
Gerald A. Arbuckle, S.M.
Father Arbuckle’s last article was "Planning the Novitiate Process: Reflections of an Anthro- pologist" (July/August, 1984). His duties in the general administration of his congregation keep him on extended journeys, but he may be addressed at his generalate headquarters: Padri Maristi; Via Alessandro Poerio, 63; 00152 Roma, Italy.
any general administrations of religious congregations in the turbulent times of the 1960s and 1970s must surely have hoped that the decade of the 1980s would be marked by the tranquillity, security and growth that seemed so obviously to characterize their histories prior to Vatican 1I. But these hopes will never be realized. Religious life, like the Cht~rch itself, was challenged in Vatican II to serve the needs of people in a world that would continue to be in rapid, even turbulent, technological,’econoniic, political and cultural change. The niore religious seek to live up tO their vocation, the more in fact will they be drawn to share the hope~, anxieties and frustrations of people caught up in a world of change,~ with all the consequent stresses and strains of adjustment that this involvement brings. A further reason why the status quo of the pre-Vatican II era will n’ot be reinstated is the fact that many religious congregations ale discovering that their very future is in doubt. In view of the oft-heard prediction that "a reason.able expectation would seem to be that most religious communities the Church today~ will eventually become extinct,"2 religious in increasing numbers are askingthemselves questions ~uch as: Will the apostolate to which I dedicated my life survive when so few professed are entering my congregation? Will my province survive? Who will look after me when I am too old to work? Will my congregation itself survive? 820 General Government Toda.v / 1~21
Viewing these realities and questions from the "center," many of those involved in thework of general administration often find themselves at a loss to know what to do. On the one hand, these administrators would agree with the management expert, Peter Drucker, that all organizations (including religious local com- munities, provinces and congregations) will "become slack, easygoing, diffuse" unless challenged, and that: in turbulent tir~es the enterprise has to be kept lean and muscular, capable of taking strain but capable also of moving fast and availing itself of opportunity. This is particu- larly important if such times follow long years of comparative calm, ease and , predictability.~ Administrative: personnel may also have come to accept the harsh reflection that: when survival depends on change, human institutions often tend perversely towards suicide, in times of social upheaval, clinging to yesterday’s images providessolace,a ’But, for religious congregations to su~ive and grow, more than solace is necessary. "It will take l~rave and visionary change, not just solace." On the other hand, the same general administrators may feel thoroughly’ inadequate to do the type of brave and visionary "challenging for ch~ange"that~ is necessary. They feel that successive general chapters since Vatican II have so weakened their administrative authority that they have little or no effective authortty and power .to challenge the congregat~ion .or even prrvinces "tO become lean and muscular." In fact, some may even fear to do anything at all, lest tha_t result in a still further whittling away of whatever administrative authority is left them by general ch~ipters. Little wonder, therefore, if such administrations are experiencing frustra- tion, adr~inistrative identity crises, a sense of helplessness. They may even"feel somewhat .marginalized, unwanted, Within the veu congregation they have been elected to serve. Some administrations accept without question a mere figurehead role, feeling that any constructive effrrts’at challenging will achieve nothing at all. Others may initiate a spree of feverish activity, but if they lack dearly worked out goals and strategies based on sound information, then such activity is without value and only serves to intensify a feeling of frustration in all i:oncerned. ~ Unfortunately, a major reason~for the feeling of helplessness and frustration is the failure of’many persc, ns to understand that the obvious exercise of administrative authority or bureaucratic direction i~ not the only form of leadership that is opeh to administrators. In fact, while varying degrees of bureaucrati~ authority are essential in organizations, nonetheless such author- ity will be ineffective if at key points in the administration prophetic leadership is laeking~ No matter how little administratix~e authority general governments have, they can and they must exercise prophetic leadership within their.con- gregations. Paradoxically the lack of bureaucratic or administrative authority can even be an advantage. General administrations should be able to give ~129 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1984
mgre time to the demands of future planning, to the design of carefully planned visitations of provinces, if they do not have to be involved in the day-to-day turmoil of dealing with special-interest groups and "congregational power politics.". . In this paper, I will set out some ways in which, general administrations can exercise this crucial prophetic leadership. By way of background, I ~will also summarize relevant insights of management experts into the difficulties and challenges that confront administrations of secular organizations and businesses in the 1980s. Religious administrators can learn much from such writers--not the least being that secular administrators have to :face some major issues which are very similar to those which confront the genei~al admin- istrations of religious congregations. Secular organization~ themselves cannot survive and grow without a type of "prophetic" leadership! Models of Contemporary General Administrations Three model~ of general administrations can be distinguished on the basis of a continuum where centralization and decentralization of administrative authority are the two poles of reference. The Maximum DecentraliZi~tion Model The central administration of congregations organized in this fashion have onl); afigurehead role. The superior general and councilors merely symbolize the internationality ot~ tl~e congregation. Whatever administrative powers are left to them are of no real significance at all. The Maximum Centralization Model’ Organized with a minimum of decentralization, all important matters in these congregations relat.ing to policies and appointments of key administrators (for example, provincials, formation personnel) are controlled by°the central administration: Delegation of authority to lower levels i~ minimal, only in matters .of little importance. ~ This model may characterize newly founded congregaiions, or congrega- tions which are small in membership and/or have a single, clearly defined apostolic activity, such as missionary activity. The In-betwedn Model: Mininial Centralization with Maximal Decentralization The choice of major administrators and personnel (fdr example provin- cials, formation, personnel) belongs to the~provinces. The role of the general administration in such appoin~tments is of no r~eal significance. However gen- eral administration does retain important supervisory powers, the significance ¯ of Which may.develop only in time. For example, the,superior general in such congregations may have ov~erall direction in matters relating to initial formation, without the legislation spell- General Government Today / 823
ing out precisely what this is to mean in practice. The general council may have authority to approve or reject provincial chaptbr~de~zisions according to guidelines set by the general chapter’decrees. It may have the power to control levels of expenditure within provinces. It may h~ix;e thai power,to stop a hou~;i~ being Opened or closed. The~h~ in ~hich a general administration might use these powers could at times effectively influence policy within provinces. SpecifiE instances of general administration, of course, may not fit precisely . into one or other of these models. But they will tend to approximate one rather than another. The type of frustration and malaise 1 described in the opening paragraphs will be found more particularly in the first and third models. These are the models which are the special concern of this article.
Leadership Challenges in rSeculal" Organizations Today In a recent article, Ronald Lippitt stated that, for most leaders and follow- ers in the 1980s, three assumptions must be eradicated.: The first assumption whichmust disappear is that success depends on a vertical model of leadership, acc6rding to which decisions are to be made at the top, and people are to obey without contributing to the decision-making. The second assumption to be removed is the belief that "doing it by yourself" is a sign of strength. The spirit of’ rugged individualism must give way to the spirit of ihterde~pendence’and collegiality at all levels of an organization. The third assumption which~has no’place in a "lean and muscular"~organi- zation is the belief that "competition is a necessary motivation for achieve- ment." This assumption,’ claimsLippit~ "blocks seeking help, sharing resources, and pooling’ complementary abilities--all requirements for survival, growth and development in the decades ahead."5 Sociologist Amitai Etzioni, in his recent analysis of the future of American so~iety,.says very much the same thing: The attribtites we Americans need most for the next generation is an enhanced com- mitment to othei:s and to shared concerns., l say "enhanced" because the commitment has not vanished but waned, and because a larger,measure is required~if.Americans are to do with less government and yet sustain themselves as a community. "rl3e commit- ment required.., is for both ego and otl~er to attend to each other and to their shared world. 1 hence refer to it as ~mutuality.TM Again, he states that American society has become caught up with exces- sive individualism: We were affluent and had a sense that we could do anything. This attitude was fed by the pop-psychology idea of self-actualization--that everyone’s first obligation was personal fulfillment.7 Taking these insights into account, .we can conclude that for survival and growth, leadership must have the ability to inspire in staffs an.effective will- 1~94 / R. eview for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1984
ingness to share ideas, skills, in a spirit of interdependence and .collegiality. Goal setting, the commitment to evaluate performance in light of these goals, will take place effectively because managements and.their staffs feel an atmo- sphere of mutuality or interdependence. No command from above will necessarily effect goal-setting, collegiality or a ~spirit of interdependence. This point is stressed by R. K. Greenleaf: "The very essence of leadership, going out ahead .to show the way, derives from more than usual openness to inspiration."8 He asks the question: "why would anybody accept the leadership of another except that the other sees more clearly where it is best to go?" Significantly he comments: "Perhaps this is the current problem: too many who presume .to lead do not see more clearly and, in. defense of their inadequacy, they all the more strongly argue that the ,system’ must be preserved--a fatal error in this day of candor.", So the one who aspires to leadership must have the knowledge necessary "to see more clearly." But still moi’e-is required than knowledge. There is needed the spark of drive, of initiative, the call to follow: "A.leader ventures to say: ’I will go; come with me!’’9,, ~., The leadership exemplified here is not the monarchical or hierarchical type--types closed to opinions and information of.others--but the type we call charismatic or prophetic. The prophet is a future-oriented person. He has an-acute.understanding of new needs and new opportunities, He opposes the. tendency in all ,human organizations ~t0 treat established institutions or methods of Ol~eration, at a given point in history, as though they were definitive.~0 Leadership of the prophetic type can see beyond the present problems, even temporarY s.uccesses, and can inspire others with a vision for change and with the courage to become involved in. realizing the vision in practice. The leader, says: "’I will go; follow me!’ while knowing that the path is uncertain, even dangerous." i i Leaders of this type are rare, but the harsh reality is that unless organiza- tions of all kinds can find them and place them at various key levels so that their talents can be used, the organizations and their administrations will not survive. The organizations will die, for they will cease to b6 relevant. These leaders will, inter alia, help establish the values explained by Lippitt and others as essential for the survival and growth of organizations in the 1980s and beyond. It is not necessary for those in official control of organizations to have to a high degree all the qualities depicted by Greenleaf, but what is the sine qua non of success is the ability to spot people who do have the necessary creative and ~innovative skiils~ and then place these people in the right positions in which they can effect!vely inspire change. This is What Drucker means when he writes that "in turbulent times, my organization.. ’. needs to control the assignment of its resources. It needs to think through Where !the results are likely to be. It needs to know the performing and productive people." General Government Today
But, to utilize such people to their full potential, there needs to be on the part of those in charge a firm discipline. Potential change-agents can easily be pushed aside because people are uncomfortable with their prophetic and innovative voices. There is also the danger that change-agents will dissipate their strengths and abilities over too wide an area. But the use of firm discipline will not be~ popular, for it will demand a "systematic withdrawal of resources--money, but above all, people--from yesterday’s efforts,"12 that is, withdrawal from projects that are no longer relevant and/or productive, and the systematic encouragement Of change- agents, who can guarantee the survival and growth of the organization. Patience and courage are key virtues in leadership. In recent years some researchers into how effective leadership emerges in organizations have explicitly turned to cultural anthropology for insights into the nature, purpose and necessity of culture. This has produced some very challenging studies and conclusions. The leader who ignores basic:human needs for meaning, for symbols, for clearly articulated values and goals, for identity, as these are expressed in culture, will fail to achieve a following---even in business. o Hence, A. Pettigrew, reflecting on the interrelationship between leadership and culture, believes that the process of ghaping culture is the first task of management: "The [leader] not only creates the rational and tangible aspects of organizations, such as structure and technology, but also is the creator of symbols, ,ideologies, language, beliefs, rituals, and myths."13 J. MacGregor Burns distinguishes two types of leadership. There is first what he calls "transactional leadership." This type of leadership is concerned with the day-to-day smooth running of the organization. No organization can do with6ut this type.. But no organization can survive for long if there is also lacking what Burns calls "transforming leadership:" This kind of leadership is a response to the fact that all people have need of a sense of purpose, of meaning, for a vision that helps to raise them in,their work above the daily grind. Inspired by this leadership people are moved to become more active themselves, more creative in their own work.14 T. E. Deal and A.. A. Kennedy in their 1982 publication, Corporate Cul- tures: The Rites and Rituals of Corporate Life, assert that every business has a culture which has a major effect on the success of the business. In what they call "strong cultures" everyone knows the goals of the corporation, and every- one is working for them.~s People know clearly what is expected of them. This makes them feel i~ strong sense of belonging and of being valued. In conse- quence, according to Deal’s and Kennedy’s research, people are more likely to work harder. In companies that have strong cultures, managers "take the lead in supporting and shaping the culture," They give considerable time and energy to ,thinking about the values, heroes, and rituals of the culture," for their primary task is to manage "value conflicts that arise in the ebb and flow of daily events." 16 Such companies have bright futures. They have the resilience 1~96 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec,, 1984 to adapt to changing circumstances.~ When difficulties arise they can "reach deeply into their shared values and beliefs for the truth and courage to see them through."~7 In 1982 also, T.J. Peters and R. H. Waterman produced their best-selling book, In Search of Excellence: Lessons from America’s Best-Run Compan- ies. ~8 This study also draws heavily on the insights of cultural anthropologists. The authors list the three qualities that make for excellence in the compan- ies they researched: bias for action, closeness to the customer, and high pro- ductivity through people. By "bias for action" they mean the ability of the companies.to move very quickly in changing policy and action, "and, more important, to be continuously innovative both in making the product.and providing services.’’~9 Their findings on the qualities of the leadership present in the most suc- cessful companies are interesting. Common to all leaders is what the authors call the "hands-on, value-driven style." Such leaders have the ability to articu- late and transmit to others the essential values of their companies. In this they effectively create a strong corporate culture:. "Clarifying the value system and breathing life into it are the greatest contributions a leader can make."~° In order to transmit values the leaders must be mobile, constantly in touch with the grassroots of the company. In order to keep the leadership team active and unhindered by bureaucratic pressures at the tenter, the leadership at the top is kept surprisingly small, lean. The leaders the authors studied had lofty visions which could evoke excitement and enthusiasm for thousands of employees. But they were also people committed to practical detail: "In this role, the leader is a bug. for detail~ and directly instills values through deeds rather than words; no oppor- tunity is too small. So it is at once attention to ideas and attention to detail.TM The leaders of the Successful companies did not depend on a charismatic personality for success. Rather, they made themselves into effective leaders through hard work, sustained perso.nal commitment to the values they believed in, and a certain stubbornness in their efforts to build up a strong corporate culture based on these values.22 By "high productivity through people," the authors mean "the ability top companies have of treating employees with dignity and expecting them to contribute in innovative ways on a day-to-day basis.’’23 For the ’researchers this quality appeared critical. New ideas and contented customers would result only when all in the organization--not just the people at the top--were motivated by the right, values.24 In the top quality firms, in consequence, those who innovate are treated as heroes, "even though those employees are occasionally a little bit at odds with the corporate bureaucracy,"2~ The authors refer to successful cdmpanies as having "simultaneous loose-tight properties." By this they mean: that at the same time there is .very firm central direction and maximum decentralization (in fact, some of the firms are radically decentralized). General Government Today / 1127
Firm central direction is achieved by the "hands-on, value-driven" ap- proach. ’The leadership sees its task as one of stressing values crucial to the firm’s culture, for example, closeness to the customer, innovation, quality. The more these values are emphasized the more certain it is that they will be realized in practice. Values which are clearly articulated and emphasized them- selves act as the control mechanism.26 Within the clear framework of these values, individuals throughout all levels of the company feel encourage.d to innovate. Leadership and Authority in Periods of Cultural Change All the above authors stress the role of leadership if "weak cultures" are to become "strong cultures." However, no author sufficiently clarifies the rela- tionship between leadership and bureaucratic authority. For example, what role, if any, has authority in cultural change? ~ John R. Sheets. S.J., provides the precision necessary for this key question to be answered. He sees a common denominator in all expressi0.ns of leader- ship. It is an ability "to draw others beyond the point where they presently find themselves to a point of greater realization of their common aspirations. It is a power to draw others toward a center of closer unity."27 He sees the role of the leader very much as Greenleaf has described it or as MacGregor Burns views transforming leadership: "While he stands within the group, he has at the same time a certain transcendence, being ahead of the group, as one who has already realized the goal to a large’extent, and who now acts as a focal point drawing others to the realization of the same goal."28 But, unlike these authors, Sheets pinpoints three fundamental qualities of leadership~ ethos, pneuma and logos. Ethos is that quality o~f leadership that is concerned with values. The leader has interiorized within himself a .set of values, and the living out of these values in his own life draws others to follow and seek the same interiorization. Pneuma refers to the power conveyed by the leader and the power that is aroused in the group. It is characterized by inspiration, enthusiasm, energy. Logos is that quality of leadership related to judgment. It is described in various ways: reason, balance, discretion~ prudence, intelligence, knowledge. Where there is logos the leader has the power of judgment how to give a "constant and consistent shape to the aspirations of the group."~9 As Sheets says, genuine l~adership involves all three of these qualities. Within any one person, the qualities are to be found in varying degrees, "very oftenowith one of the characteristics assuming a particular prominence to the point where one might be designated according to one of these, as a moral or ethical leader, a charismatic leader, an intellectual leader.’’3° A genuine leader will build on the particular aspect in which he is strong and call on others to complement his efforts with other qualities in which he is deficient. True leadership then aims to evoke teamwork. "Leadership," as described here, differs from "authority." Whereas leader- ~121~ / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1984
ship aims to motivate people to interiorize new values and attitudes freely, authority commands people,to act in certain ways. Rather than aiming to attract people to respond freely, authority imposes an obligation on people to act. In periods of cultural change, when people undergo deep value and atti- tudinal alterations, authority is to be used very infrequently, and then only with caution and considerable sensitivity. In-depth and lasting change can occur in and through leadership, but such change is rarely the result of author- ity commanding action. Support at key points, however, may have to come from authority. For example,~the actual placement of a person withleadership or change-agent qualities within a group may require the official use of author- ity. So also would the removal of an ineffective leader be an ffct of authority. In strong business cultures, authority is used very sparingly, but with effectiveness and according to definite criteria. Thus, for example, the selec- tion and appointment of key national, regional and local managers is gener- .ally the prerogative of central administration. Such people are chosen because they have the leadership qualities described. Without people of leadership gifts at key levels of management, the future growth and even survival of the business would be in danger. In brief, therefore, leadership aims to motivate people freely tO change by accepting new values, new attitudes. The new values and attitudes, together with the conseqt~ent alteration in behavior patterns, effect cultural changes. Leadership also aims to develop teamwork, to involve the whole group in ¯pr°blem-s°lving’ George Foster concludes his fine analysis of why develop- ment projects in.. the Third World succeed or fail, With a description of the qualities needed in ¯a community change-agent: The ethic of helping people change involves restraint and caution in missionary zeal. It means that developmental personnel should be careful not to plan for people, but to work with them in searching for realistic answers to their problems .... It means learnirig to be humble, to be willing to lear.n .... It means a genuine .... desire to help in a realistic way based on full understanding of the nature of culture and culture change .... a~ Foster’s research findings, and his concluding description of the qualities ~’equired in a community change-agent; confirm the.universal validity of the clarifications provided by Sheets and the other authors above. "Strong, and "Weak, Cultures in Religious Life A religious congregation is not a business organization. The fundamental aim of a religious congregation is not monetary profit to satisfy investors, nor is it to supply the material needs of customers. Neither can a religious congregation, unlike a business enterprise, fully gauge its success or failure by whether or not its "products" are being "sold." Nor ought we to consider a religious congregation to be definable only in terms of a social grouping--one, for example, designed to serve the human- welfare needs of its members. General Government Today / 829
A religious congregation has meaning only in relationship to the kingdom of God. Its members consecrate themselves to God in the Church to offer ¯.. to the world visible proof of the unfathomable mystery of Christ, inasmuch as in themselves they really present "Christ in contemplation on the mountain, or proclaiming the kingdom of God to multitudes, or healing the sick and the maimed and converting sinners to the good life, or blessing children and doing good to all men, always in obedience to the will of the Father who sent him" (LG 46).32 Effective consecration demands of religious that they keep on discerning how best to serve the Church with "boldness of initiatives" in accordance with the particular and unique charism of their congregation, being prepared to drop this or that form of apostolate which is no longer responsive to the real pastoral needs of people.33 This does not mean that religious cannot, and must not, learn from all kinds of social organizations---even from business enterprises--about how to improve their efforts to give "to the world proof of the unfathomable mystery of Christ." With St. Paul, we religious believe that "we are only the earthen- ware jars that hold this treasure [our Christian faith].34 Our faith is incarnated in and through people, groups, customs, cultures. On the sociological level at least, our religious congregations, like the Church itself, do show "organizational traits which in many respects resemble those of secular organizations.TM The way our religious congregations or communities are organized may well either hinder or facilitate our efforts to give "the world proof of .the unfathomable mystery of Christ." Discernment, after all, does not consist just in zealous and constant prayer. It also consists in being open to whatever way the Holy Spirit may speak to us--including the. way that ordinary folk live and organize their lives. We should not be startled to learn that the Holy Spirit has something to teach us from what happens in the. mundane actions of the marketplace. Perhaps the Lord is. also telling us to be open to. contemporary research in business methods when he said: ,For the children of this world are more astute in dealing with their kind than are thechildren of light."~6 In businesses which, have strong cultures, goals, objectives, values, are clearly .articulated and interiorized by all concerned. People are accountable for their actions because they know what is expected of them, and they are motivated so to act. There is constant contact with customers, making it possible to see how best to respond to their needs. Business leaders are value-oriented. They value service, not just to the customer, but also to their employees with whom they are in frequent contact. Written communications are acceptable, but personal .presence to staff.at key levels by leaders is far more emphasized. Finally, innovators are ’vigorously encouraged, despite the risks involved, for innovation that is a response to customer needs is seen as ultimately the guarantee of survival and growth: If we look at those religious congregations that are actually moving into a 1~30 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1984 stage of revitalization, we see that they are developing strong cultures. Mutatis mutandis, these congregations have many of the marks that we have seen characterize strong cultures. There is the rediscovery of key religious-life and congregational values, together with their interiorization and their expression in innovative apostolic action.37 Apostolic innovators are valued and en- couraged as congregational "culture heroes." Leaders have articulated their values, including the values that particularly relate to the charism of the founder. In variou~ ways, and with risks taken in faith, they have communi- cated these insights and values to the others, drawing them also to do the same. They have done this not by multiplying the ~number of documents and letters of exhortation, but by going directly~ to key°groups and personnel in .the congregation, and drawing them by their presence to accept the same values and convictions.38 Through~: cooperative teamwork, these leaders have encouraged a new sense of spiritual purpose to develop in the members of the congregation. A heightened, sense of morale emerges, because clarified and interiorized values and goals give a renewed sense of meaning and direction~to members~ lives. Those congregations that are not revitalizing have weak cultures. There is confusion about values, uncertainty about goals and objectives. Those who ought to be the leaders because they hold official positions in thecongregation are lacking in the know-how and/or the spiritual courage to give leadership. Many of their religious, mainly because leadership is lacking, cannot agree on what values should be retained and acted on. This leads to more and more ¯ frustration. Often the attitude of these religious to authority is ambivalent, On the one hand, there is a cynical or angry rejection of authority in the congrega- tion because it is seen as irrelevant and powerless. On the other hand, there is a hankering ~ifter authority to give direction--but when officials do attempt to use authority they are quickly rejected. There is a failure to recognize the fact that change cannot come through the bare use. of authority, but only through leadership. Since few religious have been trained in the exercise of leadership, it is difficult for members to. understand the distinction between authority and leadership. Potential change-agents or. innovators in the congregation are frequently marginalized, Sometimes this marginalization takes place because those in authority consider them "disloyal" or "troublemakers," for they Question the status q.uo.39 General administrators may maintain a schedule of visitations in the pro- vinces, but’ unless the visitations are done with goals based on real needs of the congregation, then the visits only intensify feelings of frustration among members. The exhortations of the general administrators,~and their follow-up letters to the visited provinces, come across as irrelevant, out of touch with real issues, and thus reinforce the view that general administrations have no longer any role of importance in religious congregations. Religious congregations with weak cultures thus described have reached General Government Today
what is now called the "breakdownstage." If the situation is left unchecked, these congregations will die--not because the Holy Spirit has failed, nor because the charisms of the congregations have become irrelevant, but because key people in the congregations have not "read the signs of the times" and acted accordingly.~° "Hands, On, Value-Driven" Leadership For several centuries prior to Vatican I1, general administrations often obtained their identity and role-definition from the authority they could exer- cise: the power, to appoint key people, such as provincials and formation staffs; the power to visit and check on whether or not age-old and universally accepted congregational customs were being maintained. The more adminis- trative positions became institutionalized, the more the faithgospel vision of the founding persons became obscured, together with their innovative ability to discern and react to often unattended pastoral needs of the peop!e of their times. General administrations became far more comfortable with their authority roles than with the challenges of leadership. Theologically, the emphasis was often on the need for the changing world to adapt to the unchanging Church. In similar vein, the world had also to adapt to the unchanging cultures ’of religious eongregations~ The stress by administrators, far from encouraging departures from what was done in the past; was to insist on conformity to the tried ways of the congregational culture-heroes of former times.41 With the coming of Vatican II, two interconnected emphases in particular undermined the clarity of this role-definition, and thus the traditional security o~f general administrations. The first was a renewed stress on the mission of the Church to enter and influence a world in rapid change. The second was the move to decentralize the government of religious life. The Church recognized once more that it had a mission to a world in change. Yesterday’s methods were not necessarily adequate for new pastoral needs.42 The Church is called to be Christ to the world. Since religious are "to be more radical Christians, in the sense of trying to live the life and holiness of the Church in all its radicalness~’’"3 they must seek to excel in cohtfibuting to the pastoral and apostolic innovation that was needed. Now the task of general governments is determined primarily by the mission which religious life and each eongregatiori has within the Church, and not by the authority they may have because the constitutions say so. The role of a general administration is to call the entire corporate body to the realization of its two-fold aim: union with Christ and service to the neighbor according to the particular faithgospel vision of the founding person. The decentralization of religious-life government left many general admin- istrations at a loss to know what to do in administration.On the one hand, the theology of Vatican II insisted that religious should be pastorally innovative and open to change. On the other hand, general administrations had no 839 / Review for Religious, ~lov.-Dec., 1984 experience of how to stimulate and lead such innovation. Especially adminis- trations belonging tO the first and third models above particularly felt con- fused and anxious since, without authority, they could not see what they should do to facilitate this revitalization. Many provinces also seemed quite willing to ignore their general adminis- trations, seeing them merely as innocuous and vague symbols of the interna- tionality of the community. In quite recent years, however, an awareness seems to be growing in some provinces that decentralization has not produced the miraculous renewal or revival that it was expected to evoke. There is a vague, ill-defined turning toward "the center." But unless central governments act with genuine leadership, the opportunity thus given them will be lost. To transform a weak business culture into a strong one there must bea radical change in values, with a consequent and effective commitment to action. And if a religious congregation is to move from a weak to a strong culture, there must likewise be a radical reconversLon to a new set of values, or a return to the original values of the founder. Founders of religious congregations laad the faith and courage to enter on a journey. They attracted others to join them in showing "the Church and the world a quality of life that calls them back to the design of God in Christ Jesus."~ The outcome of the journe~ was never certain. Each religious and each congregation which accepts this new challenge of reconversion begins, as it were. another spiritual journey. This will involve, like the first journey, "an anguished and sometimes perilous exploration,"45 an adventure in faith, hope and love. Similarly, general administrations which summon their congregations to a second journey, to a process of refounding, must expect periods of darkness, misunderstanding, even rejection. Like their founders before them, they will need far more than human expertise or ingenuity to maintain the dynamism and creativity of their leadership. A feeling of identity and security in their leadership will come, not from any authority they may still have nor from any authority newly obtained from their general chapters, but from union with Christ in his life, death and resurrection. In order to utilize resources to the best possible advantage, I believe that these general administrations must concentrate their leadership efforts on four categories or groupings of persons within their congregations: -on themselves as leaders; -on the congregation as a whole; -on groups tha.t hold, or potentially hold, leadership positions; -on all who are involved in the preparation of the general chapter. 1 will no~w take each.category in,turn. Leadership Directed at Themselves "The Church is an evangblizer; ’but she begins by being evangelized her- self." So wrote Paul VI. "She is the community of believers, the community of General Government Today hope lived and communicated, the community of brotherly love; and she needs to listen unceasingly to what she must believe, to her reasons for hoping, to the new commandment of love .... [The Church] is evangelized by constant conversion and renewal, in order to evangelize the world with credibility.’’~6 These words apply with equal force and validity to general administrations, for these are called to evangelize their own congregations. They can do so only by first evangelizing themselves. General administrators themselves form a group which mirrors the congregation as a whole in that they come from different cultural backgrounds, have different prejudices, both cultural and personal, which interfere with communication, have different formative and educational training, hold different theological orientations. If these adminis- trators are to be welded into a leadership team in which each is encouraged by the rest to use his leadership qualities, one of ethos, another of pneuma, another of logos, then they must face the cold reality that they themselves will have to undergo a culture change. They will have to move from being a "weak dultural group" of the congregation, with each being an individualist, to become a "strong cultural group" in which each person is in fact a ,team member. Each member will have to become increasingly and personally ope~, " not just. to changes in knowledge, information, or the intellectual rationale for action and practice, but to new attitudes, values, skills, the .removal of preju- dices, and the development of mature relationships within the team itself,47 The courage and the honesty to be open as individuals to such radical changes is needed, so that a genuine administration community for evangelizing emerges, one that is credible to the congregation. This will come only if administrators are prepared to commit themselves to deep prayer and asceticism: Only in prayerful discernment will the team members be~able to discover what the Holy Spirit is asking of them and how they can help to disentangle the pure charism of the founder from the accretions of time. Faced with the demands of the contemporary Church and world, they will experience the same sense of shock as the founder did in his day. It is true that there must be serious commitment to study and to scientific methods of obtaining factual informa- tion relating to the works of the congregation and the needs of the apostolate. But such information will be of little value, will be merely "a noisy gong or a clanging bell,"48 if the uses to which it is put are not discerned in an atmo- sphere of brotherly love and prayer. In brief, if general administrators expect to enable their entire congregation to move from weak to strong religious-life cultures, they must themselves first, individually and as a group, undergo the same cultural transformation. The top priority for each administration, there(ore, is to set aside definite periods of the year in which administrators can all be present for planning, for praying together, for sharing personal and corporate faith experiences, for discerning how the Holy Spirit wishes to use them in the service of the congregation. Nothing should interfere with this priority. At times a skilled facilitator may be an invaluable adjunct in helping team members to become 834 ] Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1984 yet more vitally involved in their own and their team’s religious-life cultural change. ~, Leadq’ship Directed to the Congregation as a Whole Superiors general and their administrations, when confronted by the stark reality ofa weak congregational culture, are tempted to react with a strongly worded pastoral letter (or even a series of them) about the need for the members to undergo conversion. Normally, this temptation must be vigor- ously~ resisted. Historically, such letters seem to have little or no effect.49 Generally th6 letters are ignored, or if read, they may evoke yet further cynicism, even anger, directed toward central government. In successful business operations in which the "hands-on, value-driven" style of leadership is used, ’leaders avoid frequent and lengthy communications from the center to subordinates. Theyl prefer to improve communication by personalizing the process on a one-to-one basis or on a one-to-group basis. However, a general administration team, after lengthy and prayerful dis’- cernment, may conclude that a prophetic communication in letter form to the whole congregation is necessary, even though there are good grounds to a~ssume the message will be rejected, even by the vast majority of the congrega- tion. Out of great love for the Church and for the congregation, the adminis, trati0n may feel the need to speak out loudly and clearly, "to uproot and to pull down, to destroy and to overthrow, to build and to plant."50 The decision to write such a prophetic challenge should not be. taken lightly: If it is done, then, as far as possible, it should be followed up with personal contact by means of general administrators in touch with key groups in the congregation. Explanations of the letter can be given, and reactions received, in a discerning atmosphere. Leadership Directed to Key Groups ,qt is at the level of key groups within the congregation that the central government’s efforts at "hands-on, value-~lriven" and "loose-tight" leadership should be concentrated. In most congregations the following groups would be important to concentrate on: .-p~ovincial councils -formation staffs -provincial chapters -other interest groups ,of various kinds, such as justice and peace commit- tees or spirituality and mission seminars (some of the groups may be of an inter-provincial or international nature). It may, be necessary, particularly in the early stages, to spend considerable time with provincial councils. The aim should be to create a discernment atmosphere similar to the one needed at the general administration level, in which~provincial¢council goals are established, and objectives and strategies worked out to .realize these goals. Considerable prudence and patience are General Government Today required since provincial councils may well consider that the initiation of change is primarily the function of authority, not leadership. Or, despite information to the contrary, the councils may even deny that there are prob- lems confronting their provinces. And they may consider the discernment process simply a waste of time, "something that only general administrations have time for!", Where these _views exist, general administrators may find the challenge to act as catalysts in culture change extremely demanding. George Foster’s advice quoted above needs to be recalled: leadership to be effective requires a "full understanding of the nature of culture and culture change." Those of us who take for granted the computer age, and assume cultural changes can occur with the same speed that characterizes computerized travel arrangements and purchasing, will find it very hard to appreciate the fact that radical cultural change is always a very slow process. General administrators, when faced with negative responses from provincial councils, may be tempted, like all change-agents when confronted by rejection or lack of interest, to find escape routes. They may be tempted to return to the generalate in order to "write a report" for the benefit of.the particular provincial council that is hesitant or refuses to respond. This process of writing the report will console the administrator, encouraging the belief that "something is hap- pening." But it is very unlikely that anything at a!! is happening if the adminis- trator still refuses to implement a "hands-on~ leadership approach by being present to the difficult provincial council--with the report in hand if necessary. Prior to working with the provincial council, the general administrator may well need to visit various people or groups in the. province in order to assess the level of cultural weakness or strength of the membership at large. But g~neral administrators should avoid doing what provincials or local super- iors should do.. namely, the pastoral, personal interviews of members. The more general administrators become involved on the personal level, the less time they will have to concentrate on leadership at the level of key groups. The general administration’s concern should be primarily for the welfare of the congregation as a whole. Normally, whatever is undertaken by general administrators must have this overall aim in mind. I believe the failure of general administrations to be clear about their primary aim has resulted in the administrators suffering from overwork, stress, even burnout. Again. the advice of George Foster makes sense: "The ethic of helping p~ople change involves.restraint and caution in missionary zeal." Formation staffs in the post-Vatican Church are under particular pressure to work out goals and methods for initial formation. The general administra- tor responsible for formation must be prepared to spend considerable time with formation personnel, encouraging them and working with them to clarify what should be done in light of definite criteria. It might also be necessary to work with provincial councils, of several 836/ Review for Religious, No’v.:Dec., 1984 provinces in an effort to develop something like an interprovincial or interna- tional training center where the best formation staff available can be concen- trated. It is increasingly impossible for congreg~.tions with declining numbers of religious and student candidates to have many formation houses. At the same time, the quality of initial formation will be a major influence on the future health of any congregation. If a reasonable development of the forma- tion program is to take place, the general administrator will.~need to exercise considerable patience, all the while being careful never to give up on the "hands-on, value-driven" approach. The closure of a formation house which has existed for a very long time, for:example, can be a traumatic experience for members of a province. The general administrator may well have to be available for a protracted period to enable their passage through this. difficult time. As regards provincial chapters, it is important for the general administra- tion to be involved, not because it wants to use whatever authority it might still have to insist on changes in legislation, but because chapters, if rightly prepared, provide an entire province with the chance to participate in a com- munal discernment process. The general administration’s task will be to encourage provincial councils to adopt the discernment process both by way of preparation and during the actual chapter.S~ If some provinces have uged only parliamentary debating and 16bbying systems, it will not be° easy to convince them’ of the advantages of communal discernment processes.52 General administrations have the chance also of bringing to the provinces at such times an overview of religious life in general and of the state of,their own congregation in particular, which provinces are m danger of forgetting their discernment processes. General administratoi’s, when presefit at chapters, can help to counter narrow nationalistic or parochial attitudes whiizh can so easily develop in provinces to the detriment of their work of evangelization. Meetings of religious from particular interest groups often attract many of thoseoinvolved in apostolic reflection and innovation. These religious can encourage one another at such meetings, and stimulate the prophetic people among them to new forms of apostolic action. At times, the general administration itself can sponsor regional or interna- tional gatherings of concerned religious to reflect on subjects of fundamental importance for cultural change of the congregation, for example, the charism of the congregation, and its history and relevance for the work of evangeliza- tion, the relationship between the congregation’s charism and the Church’s call for more involvement in justice and peace issues. There is every chance that from these gatherings will emerge individuals with the type of leadership necessary for the survival and growth of the congregation. Leadership in Preparing the General Chapter The general chapter of a congregation is meant to ~:enew and protect the spiritual patrimony of the institute. It should be ~ moment of grace, of the General Government Todqy ] 837
action of the H01y Spirit in a congregation provided there is adequate prepa- ration, an atmosphere of communal prayerful discernment during the chapter itself, and a planned follow-up after the chapter.53 The task of the general chapter is to challenge the congregation to face the future. For this purpose the goals of the institute must be evaluated (and if necessary, reformulated) in ligh! of changing pastoral needs, of the theology of mission, of the charism of the congregation and its human and spiritual resources. The means to realize these goals must be evaluated and, if necessary, changed. ~For example, the chapter must decide whether or not a congregation of the first or third models described above can realize its apostolic and religious life goals if the central government has little or no authority to complement its leadership role. For the sake of the overall good of the congre- gation, should central government have an important role in the choice of provincials and formation staffs--that is, in the appointment of key change- agents in the congregation? Remember, of course, that in successful business operations the leadership rarely uses authority. But it does use authority to appoint key staff throughout the organization, after considerable consultation of those who know the candidates. But a more fundamental question must be answered by the general chap- ter. What form of government and what kind of authority should it have if t.he congregation is to realize its primary purpose of service to the People of God? No general chapter can face such questions, nor do what it is supposed to do~ without thorough preparation. Too often general chapters are considered the work only of the capitulants, not of the congregation as a whole. When this happens, the general chapter will have little or no practical impact on the religious-life cultural change of the institute. There is’ little sense in having a chapter if the whole congregation does not own it from beginning to end, that is, from the time of preparation through to and including the implementation stage. The general administration has a most crucial role to play in stimulating the whole congregation to become involved in preparing for the chapter t~hrough prayer, study, reflection, and dialog.54 This will be a demanding and time-consuming task, especially if the failure of previous general chapters has left people feeling cynical, apathetic, even angry about being invited to be involved in preparatory work. For this reason, it may be necessary for the general administration to initiate the planning of the chapter many months, even a year or two, before the chapter is due to ~begin. The follow-through after the chapter has ended is as important as the preparation, though this stage is likely to be overlooked for two reasons. Capitulants may feel the enthusiasm of the chapter experience itself will be enough to guarantee an automatic post-chapter follow-through by the con- gregation as a whole. But enthusiasm alone at a chapter will ensure, nothing. Secondly, an entirely new general administration may be elected at the chapter. It may not immediately have the skills or the coherence for teamwork 838 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1984 even to see that the follow-through stage must be planned and implemented immediately after the chapter. Hence, as a service to the whole congregation, the outgoing administration, drawing on its own experience, could,suggest to the chapter itself or to the new administration several alternative plans for the post-chapter follow-through. , The purpose of religious government is "the building of a united commun- ity in Christ in which God is sought and loved before all things, and the mission of Christ is generously accomplished."55 With this purpose in mind~ the general chapter must elect the superior general and ~the assistants~ The election is a dramatic moment in the cultural-change process of a general congregation, the process in which the institute is trying to deepen its religious- life values. The outgoing general administration cannot, and must not, seek to influence capitulants to vote for certain people. But, if its evangelizing presence has had an.impact over its years of government, then the capitulants will be aware:of what they should expect to find in members chosen for the new administration~ The primary question for the voters should be: Who ,has the leadership qualities necessary to be of service to the whole congregatio, n?°A .person may be able to speak many languages, but if he or she lacks leadership qualities, then voters should automatically consider other candidates. Since general administrators are to be at the service of the whole congregation, the folio.wing question should not even be considered: Will he or she better represent my province?
Summary By way of summary, what particular points should general administra- tions be sensitive to if they are to exercise effective leadership? Firstly, culture change is a complex, slow and often painful process, requiring new values, attitudes and behavior patterns. Since revitalization of a religious congregation involves a cultural change, one in which the institute moves from a weak to a strong culture, the process will be slow and painful. The pain will be salvific if individuals and communities approach change in a prayerfully discerning way. Secondly, general administrations are called to lead their congregations to revitalization. They do this by articulating and communicating the values which form the foundation of the religious-life culture change of the congrega- tion. This means that in implementing the "hands-on, value-driven" and ’~loose-tight" principles of leadership, general administrators must .resist the temptation to solve problems for people~ Their overriding task is to communi- cate the values in light of which the congregations’ members themselves decide ¯ freely what to do. Thirdly, in order to communicate values and to guarantee that they tak+ deeper and deeper roots within the congregation,general administrators must be in as frequent personal contact with provincial administrations and key General Government Today / 839 groups in the provinces as is possible. They cannot lead by remaining in the generalate. Strong administrative discipline is required to prevent central governments from assuming administrative responsibilities that would hinder or prevent general administrators from being in the field. Planned follow-up visits are required by general administrators to provincial councils and other key groups at various stages after important planning sessions have been held. This would help the development of an accountability process. The more successful, over time, that the communication of values is, the less frequent will the visits have to be. Fourthly, implicit in all that has been said is the assumption that the primary concern of the general administrators is the corporate well-being of the congregation. General administrators should not normally take over the personal, pastoral visitations of each religious by the provincials. The more they become personally involved in this type of ministry, themselves, the less time and energy they have for their primary task. Fifthly, general administrators should constantly be on the lookout for potential or actual innovators, prophetic figures, congregational "heroes," who, ~f rightly placed, would have the ability to summon others to reconversion. Conclusion Many general administrations today are confused about how to lead their congregations through the processes of revitalization. It is true that "leader- ship styles of the past will no longer be functional or useful.’’56" But the challenges that general administrations face today are not unique to them. Survival and growth are not automatic for secular organizations and busi- nesses either. General administrations of .religious congregations, especially those which need revitalization or reconversion, can learn much from the style and methods of the leaders of successful businesses and other secular organizations¯ ~ General administrators are to lead, not by taking more and more respon- sibilities from the provinces, nor by trying to coerce people into reconversion through the use of some form of authority, but by clarifying, articulating and transmitting the congregation’s values and goals to all members. Their task is to build strong religious-life cultures, in which congregational "heroes," inno- vators, refounders, prophets, are valued people. The stress is on working with, not for members of the congregation. The basic and primary skill required of general administrators as leaders is the ability to work with others, first and most of all with each other, so that teamwork emerges, and then with key groups and personnel in the provincesP7 They will be evangelizer~ to their own congregation to the degree that they, as a team and as individuals, are open to evangelization themselves. They must strive to be specialists in their own congregation "in the sense of expe- riencing God more vividly in the following of Christ and making that expe- rience the basis" for the evangelization of their fellow religiousP8 I]40 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1984
General administrators need insights from research into leadership, skills and expertise. But we need to be reminded that, as Paul VI notes, while "techniques of evangelization are good, [nonetheless] even the most advanced ones could not replace the gen.tle action of the Spirit. The most perfect prepa- ration of the evangelizer has no effect without the Holy Spirit. Without the Holy Spirit the m.ost convincing dialectic has no power over the heart of man. Without him the most highly developed schemas resting on a truly sociglogi- cal or psychological basis are quic, kly seen to be quite valueless."59
NOTES
~See The Church in the Modern World, I. 2See Raymond L. Fitz, S.M. and Lawrence J. Cada. S.M., ~The Recovery of Religious Life" in REVIEW FoR RELIGIOUS, Vol. 34, No. 5, 1975, p. 706. 3Managing in Turbulent Times (London: Pan, 1980), p. 43. 4E. Ward, "Christian Missions--Survival: in What Forms" in International Bulletin of Mission- ary Research. 1982, p. 8. 5Ronald Lippitt, "The Changing Leader-Follower Relationships of the 1980s" in The Journal of Applied Behavioral Science, Vol. 18, No. 3, 1982, p. 397. 6Amitai Etzioni, An Immodest Agenda: Rebuilding America Before the21st Century (N.Y.: McGraw-Hill, 1983), p. 26f. 7Amitai Etzioni, "U.S. Needs a ’Moral and Social Recovery’" in U.S. News & Worm Report, 9 Jan. 1984, p. 591- SRobert K. Greenleaf, Servant ~Leadership: A Journey into the Nature "of Legitimate Power and Greatness (N.Y.I Paulist Press, 1977). p. 15. 91bid. ~0See Roger Aubert (Ed). Prophets in the Church (N.Y.: Paulist Press, 1968), p. 2. ~Robert K. Greenleaf, op. cit., p. 15. ~2Peter Drucker. op. cit., p. 43. ~3Cited by Thomas~ J. Peters and Robert H. Waterman Jr: In S~arch of Excellence: Lessons from America’s,Best-Run Companies (N.Y.: Harper & Row, 1982), p. 104. ~4See James MacGregor Burns, Leadership (N.Y.: Harper & Row, 1978)., ~5(Reading. Mass.: Addison-Wesley, 1.9~2), p. 15f. ~Ibid. p. 141. ~71bid, p. 196. A Similar cultural approach to management analysis is to be found in Richard Tanner Pascale and Anthony G. Athos. The Art of Japanese Management (l:ondon: Allen Lane. 1982). ~sOp. cit. ~gThomas J. Peters, "Well-Run Companies: The Secret of Success" in U.S. News & Worm Report, 10 Oct. 1983, p. 74. -’0Thomas J. Peters and Robert H. Waterman. Jr. op. cit., p. 291. e :qbid. p. 287. ~-’See op, cit., p. 288. -’3Thomas J. Peiers. "Well-Run Companies: The Secret of Success," p. 74. 24See Thomas J. Peters and Robert,H, Waterman, Jr.. op. cit., p. 310. ¯ ~-5Thomas J. Peters, "Well-Run Companies: The Secret of Success," p. 75. -’6See T.homas J. Peters and Robert H. Waterman, Jr.. op. cit.. p. 318. 27"A Discussion on Leadership and Autfiority" in Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits (St. Louis: American Assistancy Seminar on Jesuit Spirituality; 1972), Vol. IV. No. 2~, p. 55. ~Slbid, p. 56. -’91bid. p. 58. -~01bid. 3~ Traditional Cultures: And the Impact of Technological Change (N.Y2 ~Harper. 1962), p. 269. This text is further explained by Gerald A. Arbuckle in The Role of Change-Agents in Devel- General Government Today / 1141
opment (Sydney: Action for World Development, 1972). a2Mutuae Relationes (Rome: S.C. for Religious and for Secular Institutes & S.C. for Bishops. !978): par. 10. ~lbid. par. 12 -~2 Co 4:7. 3~Mady A. Thung, The Precarious Organization." Sociological ~cplorations of the Church’s Mission and Structur~ (The Hague: Mouton, 1976), p. I. For relevant sociological analyses of Church structures and management, see: Alvin J. Lindgren and Norman Shawchuck, Manage- ment for Your Church: How to Realize ),our Church’s Potential Through a Systems Approach (Nashville: Abingdon, 1977); Lyle E. Schaller, Effective Church Planning (Nashville: Abifigdon, 1979); Peter E Rudge, Ministry and Management." The Stud), of Ecclesiastical Administrations (London: Tavistock. 1968). -~6Lk 16:18. 37See Lawrence Cada, ’S.M., Raymond Fit~., S.M., Gertrude Foley. S.C.. Thomas Giardino, S.M., and Carol Lichetenberg, S.N.D. de N. Shaping the Coming Age of Religious life (N.Y.: Seabury Pr~ess, 1979), p. 60. ~SFor helpful historical insights ~ee Raymond Hostie, S.J., The Life and Death of Religious Orders: A Psycho-Sociological Approach (Washington: Cara, 1983), pp. 276-281. 39See J. P. Donero, F.S.C. and T. D. Frary, New Responses in Religious Life (N.Y.: Alba House, 1979), pp. 20-22. 4°See Raymond L. Fitz, S.M. and Lawrence J. Cada. S.M., "The Recovery of Rdligious Life." 4~For relevant comments see Thomas More Page, C.F.X., "Managing and Planning Change in Religious Institutes" in REvIEw I:OR REI:~G~OUS, Vol. 31, No. 3, 1972, pp. 386-401. 42The most challenging restatement of this emphasis is to be found in the Apostolic Exhortation of Paul VI, ten years after Vatican II, Evangelii Nuntiandi, 1975, nn. 18, 20, 63. 43Leonardo Boff,,O.F.M~:, God’s Witnesses in the Heart of the WorM(Chicago: Claret Center for Resources in Sl~irituality, 1981). p. 226. ’~F. J. Moloney, S.D.B., Disciples and Prophets: A Bibfical Model for the Religious Life (London: Darton, Longman and Todd, 1980), p. 169. 45Quoted by Paul V. Robb, S.J.. in "Conversion as a Human Experience" in St.udies in the Spirituality of Jesuits (St, Louis: American Assistancy Seminar on Jesuit Spirituality, 1982), p. 4. ~Op. cir., par. 15. ~TSee for helpful comments.’John Adair, Effective Leadership: A Modern Guide to Developing Leadership Skills (London: Pan Books, 1983). pp. 159-186. ~Sl Co 13:1’: 49See Raymond Hostie, S.J., op. cit., p. 277. 5°Jr I:10. ~ For an explanation of the lg.natian method of deliberation, see John C. Futrell, S.J., "Commu- nal Discernment: Reflections on Experience" in Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits (St. Louis: American Assistancy Seminar on Jesuit Spirituality, 1972). ~2Two studies by W. Biddle and L. oBiddle will be helpful to leaders in cultural change: 7~te Community Development Process: The Rediscovdry of LoCal Initiative (N.Y.: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1965) and Encouraging Community Development: A Training Guide for Local Workers (N.Y.: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1968). See also T. R. Batten The Non-Directive Approach: In Group and Community Work (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1967). 5~See F~se~mial ~Elements in the Church’s Teaching on Religious Ltfe as Applied to Institutes Dedicated to Works of:the Apostolate by Sacred Congregatio9 for Religious and Secular Institutes, 31 May 1983 (Boston: St. Paul Editions. 1983), par. 51. ~See Conleth Overman, C.P., "Models for Chapter" in CA RA Forumfor Religious, VoL 4, No. 3, 1983, p. 9ft. , S5Essential Elements in the "Church ’s Teaching on Religious Life as Applied to Institutes De~li- cated to Wo’rks of the’A~ost~late, op. cir., par. 52. 56Raymond L. Fitz, S.M. and Lawrence J. Cada, S.M.. "The Recovery of Religious Life," op. cit., p. 718. ~TSee T. R. Batten, The Human Factor in Community Work (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1965), p. 181. SgLeonardo Boll, O.F.M., op cit., p. 226. S~E\,angelii Nuntiandi, par, 75. Marginality and Religious Life: Belonging to a Group Called to Risk
Patrick Sean Moffett, C. E C.
Brother Moffett is a member of the lona College Division of Pastoral Counseling. He may be addressed at Iona College; New Rochelle, NY 10801.
When the lawyer pressed Jesus for an answer to the question "Who is my neighbor?" he responded with a story and another question: "Who in your opinion was neighbor to the man who fell among robbers?" The story con- tained the answer to both questions. Isn’t this so characteristic of a teacher? Knowing there is little impression without expression, J~sus provides a con- crete example and challenges the lawyer to discover the answer and make it his own, to learn what it means to be neighbor to another human being. Aposto~lic Spirituality What does it mean to be a brother or sister in a Church that has called us once again to renewal? 1 suggest that we have been asked to reconsider the paradoxes of Chris- ti~nity: of being in the world but not of the world; 6f being ourselves and being Christ; of being bonded to each other and available to those:who need us; of being at the center and at the outposts of the Church. The question has many forms, and each form can be approached from many perspectives. I offer a psychologist’s perspective on an aspect of the issue that most engages my attention: what it means "to be longto" ~.nd "ti) identify with" not only Christ but also our fellow humans, our ChurCh and our specific congregations in a time of change. Vatican 1I called religious to appropriate renewal involving two simultane- ous processes: "a, continuous return to’the sources of all Christian life and to the original inspiration behind a givep community and an adjustment of the 842 Marginalio, and Religious Life / 843 community to the changed conditions of the times." (Perfectae Caritatis, 2). The discernmentto accompany these processes involved what the Sacred Congrega.tiot~° for Religious ~nd for Secular Institutes has called the four great loyalties: -fidelity to humanity and to our times -fidelity to Christ and the Gospel -fidelity to ,the Church and ’its mission in the world -fidelity to religious life and to the charism of one’s own institute (Religious and Human Promotion, 13, March 1980).
.Ego-extension Th~se loyalties describe our belongingness and indicate some aspects of our identity that we share with all of our fellow tiumans, others that we share with all Christians, still others that we share with all Roman Catholics, and finally some that we share with the brothers and sisters of religious congrega- tions. As the size of,the reference group bec~m’es smaller the bonds become more numerous’and more cohesive. " For one who identifies himself or herself as a religious, these loyalties are aspects of one’s "extended sense of self." Gordon Allport; the psychologist credited for reintroducing the study of the’person to the field of Am(rican psychology, hag provided a phenomenology of the self. He descril~es ’ego-ex- tension asa significant aspect of the identity of the mature adult: As ~ve grow older we ide.ntify with groups, neighborhoods, and nations as well as possessions, cloth.es, homes. They become haatters 9f importance to’us in a sense that other people’s families, nations, or possessions are not: Later in life the process of extension may go to great lengths to the development of loyalties and of~interests focused on abstractions and on moral;and religious values. Indeed, a mark of maturi.ty , seems to be the range and extent of one’s feeling of self-involvement in abstract ideals. (Allport, 1955). , In The Life Cycle Completed, Erik Erikson provided a description of identification that goes far beyond what has too often been, treated as the task of adolescence. In 1982 at the age of 80, Erikson reaffirmed tiis position that identification is a lifelong developmental movement from "1" to "we.~ .- ¯.. we are again reminded of~the lifelong power of the first mutual recognition of the newborn and the primal (maternal) other and its eventual transfer to the ultimate other who will "lift up His countenance upon you and give you peace." From here we could once more follow the stages of development and study the way in which in given languages :the fatherhoods and motherhoods, the ~isterhoods ahd brotherho~ls of the "we" come to share a joined identity experienced as most real.. But here also it is necessary to amend the very concept of a reality, which, as I complained a.t the begin- ning, is all too, often seen as an ~’outer world" to be adjusted to (Erikson, 1982). Erikson’s stud~, is particularly ’rele~,ant to religiou~ sisterhood and brotherhood. As to the we, Freud went so far to assert that "there is no doubt that,the tiewhich I]44 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1984
united each individual with Christ is also the cause of the tie which unites them with one another. (1921), but.., he did so in a discourse on what he c~lled artificia~l groups such as churches or armies. The fact is. however, that all identifications amounting to brotherhoods and sisterhoods depend on a joint identification with charismatic figures, from parents to founders to gods (Erikson, 1982). The concept of identifying with Christ is, for the psychologist, a depth phenomenon involving the most central structures of the self. These inner-per- sonal regions of our life space are affected by outside definitions to the extent that each of us internalizes the definitions. 1 stri~ve to put on Christ as I understand him, and to be loyal to my fellow humans, to my church, to my congregation as 1 understand them. What happens though, when the defini- tions change, when the media afford me a new look at the global village, when the Church tells me that 1 have a role to play in the building of the kingdom that is ve~:y different from the one I thought I had, when my religious congre- gation readjusts in ways that alter how 1 work, how I pray, and how.l live? Marginal Status/Marginal Per~bns In recent Vatican statements religious congregations of women and of men have been assigned the role of .being a vanguard in the process of pre-evangeli- zation and evangelization. As such, we have been encouraged to live at the boundaries of the established Church, to attend to the needs of the poor and of the marginal, to manifest clearly in our work and in our lifestyle "an option for the poor." In effect, religious are being encouraged to internalize these options and°identify ourselves with those to whom we minister. Living at the boundaries of society and of the Church, we may experience in ourselves in a way that is both challenging and threatening the anxiety characteristic of the " marginal person. The term "marginal person" is one that the German-American theorist and leader in the field of social psychology, Kurt Lewin, borrowed from ~ociological descriptions of immigrants to present a psychological theory of adolescence~ [The marginal person is] one ffho ~tands on the boundary of two groups. He does not belong to either of them, or at least he is not certain about his belongingness.., the characteristic symptoms of behavior of the marginal person are emotional instability and sensitivity. They tend to unbalanced behavior, to either boisterbusness or shyness, exhil6iting too much tension, and a frequent shift between extremes of contradictory behavior (Lewin. 1951).
In his application of this image Lewin describes phenomena quite familiar to those of us who have worked with adolescents: To some extent behavior symptomatic for the marginal man can be found in the adolescent. He too is oversensitive, easily shifted from one extreme to the Other, and particularly sensitive to the shortcomings of his younger fellows. Indeed, his position is sociologically the same as that of the marginal man; he does not wish to belong any longer to a group which is, after all, less privilege~t than the group of adults: bu(at the same time he knows that he is not fully accepted by the adults. The similarities between Marginality and Religious Life
the position of the members of the underprivileged minority and the adolescent, and between their behavior seem to me so great that one might characterize the behavior of the marginal members of the minority as that of permanent adolescence ( Lewin, 1953). The concept of a ’~permanent adolescence" might be applied in a most ~xtreme ,for~ to a psychopathology that has become quite popular in our day, r~:placing the hysterias of previous generations as the main focu~s of many members of the psychotherapeutic community. The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders III lists the following diagnostic criteria for the borderline personality disorder."
(I) ihapulsivity or unpredictability: (2) a pattern of unstable and intense interpersonal relationships; (3) inappropriate., intense anger or lack of control of a~ger; (4) identity disturbance ’manifested by uncertainty about several issues relating to identity, such as self-image,gender identity, long-term goals or career choice, friendship, values and loyalties; (5) affective instability: marked shifts from normal mood to depression, irritability, or arlxiety; (6) intolerance of being alone: (7) physically self-damaging acts: (8) chronic feelings of emptiness or boredom (DSM III, 301.83).
To qualify for membership in this group, at least five of the eight criteria must be aspects of one’s current and long-term functioning. In addition one must usually be over the age of eighteen. While many adolescents will demon- strate many ~aspects of the disorder, they are rarely consistent enough to meet the critei-ia. ’ Nbt all persons who are "marginal" with respect to their social status need be "marginal persons" in the psychological sense. The marginal person expe- riences himself or herself as ungrounded, as not really belonging. Those with marginal .status--poor people, minorities, the handicapped; the sick, the illi- terate, those unable to work; those in prison, those who are removed from the mainstream of the dominant social group, etc.--may experience themselves as well-grounded, as solidly belonging to reference groups that have very positive ¯ meani.ng in their own lives. They therefore do not qualify°as "marginal persons." Identification with Christ The Church is encouraging religious to maintain" marginal status among those with marginal status in our society and in our Church. We are asked to take a special portion of a meal that is offered to all the Church. There are many different situations in which the human face can be seen today deeply marked by tears, sorrow, frustration and despair. The phenomenon on marital break- down is wid.cspread. The young people of many cities feel rejected because there is no work for them. Racial minorities struggle for recognition and respect. Industry is split by resentments and bitter conflicL Whole peoples and communities live with daily violence, terrorism and ruthless suppression. in recognizing the presence of the suffering Christ in these situations, the Church is called upon first of all to be with these people, to share with them their pain and then to work for a resolution of conflicts, a reconciliation of peoples (Archbishop Derek Worlock of Liverpool to the World Synod of Bishops: Origins, Vol. 13: No. 21)’. 846 / Review for Religious, Nov,-Dec., 1984
Christ assumed marginal status: "Foxes have holes and birds have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lie down and rest" (Lk 9:58): Sorhe of his relatives were marginal: "When you went out to John in the desert, What did you expect to see?... A man dressed up in fancy clothes?" (Lk 7:24). He urged his followers t6 assume marginal status: ~I am sending you like la.mbs amoiig wolves. ’Don’t take a purse, or a beggar’s bag, or shoes..." (Lk 10:3). He was also brutually realistic about the conseqtiences of such identification: "No slave is ~reater than his master. If they persecuted me they will pers.ecuie you too..." (Jn 15:20). A Jewish psychotherapist friend of mine once suggested t.hat any Christian who would care to know the consequences of identifying with Christ ought to r(ad the Kazantzakis novel, The Greek Passion. The hero-victim of the story has been commissioned by his village to portray the role of Christ in a’passion play. What iiappens to him in the process makes excellent Lenten reading! While Christ himself, had, and offered to his fbllowers marginal s~tatus, he was not a marginal person. He knew who he was, he spoke with authority, he chose to accept his destiny. He knew he was beloved 9f the Father and experiencbd acceptance in his special social group: i l~now mine; mine know me. And he knew what he was calling his followers to: "I have. given you an example" (Jn 13:!5). "Love one another as 1 have loved you" (Jn 15:.12)., In identifying with Christ we also tak~ on m~rginai status. We avoid becoming marginal persons by working at that level of ego-extension ,,that moves us from "!" to "we." In working at being brother or sister to Christ and to o.thers, in the building of community both within the congregation and at our apostolic sites, in striving with others in the Church to establish the "kingdom," we generate the belongingness that counteracts the alienation~of marginality. ,~
Propriate Striving ~ Belonging and identification call forth another aspect of the self that Gordon Allport labels "propriate striving." 1 do that which is appropriate for me, that which fits the emerging image of who 1 am and who ! am becoming: As 1 identify with groups and causes, ! initiate behaviors that arb consistent with the goals of the group, which advance the cause. Propriate striving thus has an integrative function with respect to the unification. of the personality. As one who puts on Christ, 1 seek to act as he directs--: "If you love me, keep - my commandments." As a member of the Church, I assume some respgnsibil- ity for her mission. As a member of a religious congregation, 1 seek~ to be brother or sister in the spirit and charism of our group and of our founder. Psychologists, who themselves must bear some responsibility for the dis- tortions of self-actualization evident in the narcissism Of the so-called ~’me- generation:" suggest that forms of commitment,’self-sacrifice ahd lives-lived- for-others are appropriate expressions of self-actualization in the mature adult. Identification with Christ and with his people is a process that can be Marginalit.v and Religious l~ife /847 psychically healthy as well as salvific. Perhaps some day we will come ,to dis~cgver that those of marginal status--the poor, the meek, those who suffer persecution for justice, the peacemakers--truly are blessed on this earth. I suspect that this discovery will be related toan appreciation of a lifestyle which frees individuals to live in the graced moment of now. 1 anticipate that we will grow in an appreciation of the simple yet iarofound interaction-rituals by which people give meaning to their daily lives. Through actions of attending to our daily needs and those of others, we "make belief" (in ourselves, our gro.ups, our causes, and our God) a reality for ourselves and for now. ¯ Certainly the Eucharist is a most salient expression of belongingness, identification, and belief. It is both a symbol and a form of"propriate striving" by Which individuals establish a connectedness which allows them to sustain marginal status without becoming marginal persons.
Stress Studies bf stress suggest that one does not survive on the edge for long. Even those who are very creative in accommodating themselves to the tensi6n of marginality have occasional forays of seemingly counterwoductive aggres- sion, regression’, and withdrawal. The more adjusted these individuals usually are, the more saiient their deviant moments may appear to themselves and to others. Knowing the pressures of life at the boundary, we may become more tolerant of those who withdraw or regress for a time. The tolerance will begin, as it usually does in a "wounded he.~ler," with the realization of my own need for moments away from the pressures of the moment. Could this be a time of incubation--that personal space which ultimately will give rise to new insight aiad energy and enlightenment and grace--or is the individual simply scared, tired, frustrated, or lazy? There is a tension in not knowing for sure, a tension that may enhance the frustration of marginality, yet one that cannot be elimi- nated. It is for the religious the one persistent "maybe." It is uncertain ground of hope. It is quite possible that religious who choose "marginalstatus" will at times experience themselves as marginal persons, and as such be subjeCt to the pressures exigeot upon the marginal person. Reflection on the behavior of adolescents in our care will provide hints on how behaviors in our own communities may be seen as adaptive or maladaptative aggression, regression, withdrawal, and thus pave the way to accommodation-with-respect to our own feelings of marginality. I believe that for good and for ill these responses are already evident among us, and perhaps have been throughout the history of religious life. Even eras ofgreat stability and security in religious life might be seen as the responses to the experience of marginality. Are not some of the ghettos of our cities the safest places for those with marginal status? 848 / R’eview for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1984
The Call to Risk Today we hear a Church which calls us to risk, to move to the boundaries of the Church and of society. It is here at these boundaries that there exist the greatest opportunities for a creative response to the poor of ourday. Here also is the greatest danger. Religious often find themselves in a position to experience at close range the eventsthat affect the’ people whom they serve. The prophetic nature of religious life requires that religious embody the Church in her desire to give herself completely to the radical demands of the beatitudes. They are often to be found at the outposts of the mission, and they ta.ke the greatest of risks for their health and for their very lives (Religious and Human Promotion, 4, a.). When the boundaries are perceived as frontiers our vision is brightened with renewed faith and trust. We are all marginal with respect to the worlds of the unknown. We all live somehow at the frontier of tomorrow. Some, how- ever, position themselves to attend to that which has been. Their goal is restoration of a "sound moral order." Others face the uncertain future, a receptive field for their fantasies or visions, drbams or plans, desires or hopes. Their goal is a new world order. While we may find ourselves looking in either direction dt any. given time our real task and our joy is to be present to the moment at hand, to open our hearts fully t6 an incarnate Christ present and appealing to us ih all who draw near us or see us, or hear us--in all who through their poverty, love, and loyalty teach us what it means to be neighbor and, for ~us in a special way, what it means to be sister and to bE brother in, with, and to Christ.
REFERENCES
Allport, Gordon, Becoming. London: Yale University Press. 1955. American Psychological Association. Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders I11, 1980. Erikson, Erik, The life Cycle Completed. London: W. W. Norton & Co., 1982. Hall, G. Stanley, Jesus the Christ in the Light of Psychology, New York: D. Appleton Co., 1917. Kazantzakis. Nikos, The Greek Passion. New York: Simon and Schuster, 1953. Lcwin, Kurt, FieM Theory in Social &’ience. London: Harper; 1964. Angela Merici and the Ursuline Mission: A Second Look
Teresa Leddchowska, 0 S."U.
,Sister Teresa is ihe author of Angela Merici:atid the Company of St. Ursul6 (Rome: Ancora, 1968), a principal source for Sister Mary Ann Fatula, O.P.. in her article "Angela Merici and the Ursuline Mission" (January] February. 1984, pp. 1!3-123), In her covering letter, Sister Teresa wro!e of her appreciation for Siste~r. Mary Ann’s article, but felt that some precisions should be made regarding her own ideas. She writes in ~the.hgpe~that "a sincere dialogue would be enriching:" The author ma~ be addresse~t: St. Teresa Eed6chowska. O.S.U,: ul. Bohater6w Stalin~radu 9:31-038 Krakow, Poland.
The interest whic"h the great figure of Saint Angela Merici continues to awake ~n various parts of the world is a source of deep joy for me. I welcomed therefore Sister Mary Ann Fatula’s article "Angela Merici and the Ursuline Mission" in Review for Religious (January/February, 1984, pp. 113-123), finfling there evidence of the bonding which the veneration for the Foundress of the Ursulines effectuates between you in America and those of us in Europe who are al~;o devoted to her. ,~ For myself, in veading~these pages I felt very close to you. 1 love America, which I have visited several-times and where I was always received with kindness and cordiality. It is this love and gratitude 1 bear which gives me hope that you will allow me to bring some further precision to an article that contains some excellent observations, but which, in several points, differs considerably from my own understanding 9f the Ursuline mission and charism. In recent y.ears, my ideas on the subject of our m~ssion and.charism have grown at once more mature,and more synthetic. I should mention in passing that recent research in Rome ha~ made it~appear that Angela did not have an active participation in the apostolate to the incurables--a fact which in no way alters my own vision of the spiritual profile of the Madre. 849 1~50 / Review for Religious. Nov.-Dec., 1984~.
1 do hope that the sincere dialogue 1 intend in these pages, offered in a climate of affection~and openness, will profit the reader, and perhaps deepen our understanding of the Ursulines’ religious identity. In studies such as this it is important to distinguish between historical facts and their interpretation, in particular, their theological interpretation. These are distinct domains, They pertain to different sciences, and have to be studied with different methods.
Historical Facts Saint Angela’s Connection with Religious Life We have to search for the origins of Saint AngelaTs work in the lay Christian movements of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. To my knowl- edge, no document shows Angela in any close contact with religious families of women. She herself was not a religious, but a Franciscan tertiary. She founded a "company," a term often used to designate one of the then numerous confraternities. The document which records Angela’s election as superior calls her company a "societas seu confraternitas." Finally, the structures of her primitive Company were very characteristic of confraternities. These were generally headed by lay governors, men and women, and were devoted to helping different categories of people in need. "What is really new and rather strange in Angela’s new "Company of Virgins of Saint Ursula" is the fact that its members--not the lay governors but the young maidens governed by them--were consecrated persons. The acts of foundation of the "Company" in 1535 reveal that Angela, who had herself emerged from among the laity of Brescia, had introduced into her Company, four years before her death, this novel element of consecration." something totally unknown to the confraternities of that time. It is this inno- vation which was to bring the Company closer to t~eligious life in. the future. These facts allow us to draw the following conclusion: The’ line of Angela’s personal development goes rather from within the laity to the embrace of at least one essential .element of religious life, than from one, more restricted form of religious life to another, more open kind of structure. Ne.ither in her writings nor in other contemporary evidence do we find indications which would permit us .to see Angela as introducing some new pattern of religious life, some more open form of religious life. She created a new type bf con, fra- tefnity, characterized by a membership composed of consecrated persons. This is the "new form of life" mentioned by Angela’s friend Co~.zano, and cited in Sister Mary Ann’s article on page 117. It is to be observed that Cozzano wrote those words when he encountered opposition to the practice of consecrated maidens living in the world, living outside of, a religious order, This opposition also explains the climate of his polemic. But this opposition burst on the scene only after Angela’s’ death. It is impossible, then, to see Angela as an innovator of religious life..This Angela Merici and the Ursuline Mission /851
does not militate against another important fact that, as Sister, Mary Ann wrote, Angela did’make a great c6ntribution "to the historical emergence of modern’ apostolic communities of women." But there is no evidence, either in her writings or in contemporary documents, to show that Angela was at all conscious of this influence, or that.she had foreseen the future. Structures of Governance for the New Company In her Rule~ Chapter XII, Angela wrote: For !’he government of the Company there shall be elected four of the most capable among the virgins, together with not less than four matrons who are widows, prudent and of honorable life, and four men of experience and tried virtue. The virgins should act as teachers and guides in the ways of spiritual life, the matrons as mothers careful for the welfare of their daughters .... while the four men should act on their behalf as helpers and fathers in the current n~eds of the Company. The virgins are then mistresses and guides in the spiritual life. Nevertheless it is not they~ but the widow-matrons who govern. In the Prologue of her Testament Angela addresses only them, and their role appears clearly in her writings, as well as in the documents of the primitive Company,~ Secondo Libro Generale. These texts have a~ crucial, importance for our interest here. They show clearly that the Company founded by Angela was governed by lay people, and that in this structure t.he first Ursulines--the "Virgins of Saint ¯ Ursula,’--were merely subordinates toward whom the educational and forma- tional action of their lay superiors was directed. The~e structures, established by Saint Angela, were from their very nature transitory. They inevitably called for an evolution. In the first place, they were bound to the mind-set of the sixteenth century and could be effective only within the context. Furthermore, it is hard to believe that the widows and lay governors could continue to "educate and govern" these consecrated maidens once they a~quired a certain degree of maturity and experience. In point of fact, these structures of St. Angela did not last. St. Charles Borromeo reformed Angela’s Rule forty years after her death, and transferred authority in the Company from the widows to the maidens themselves.’ Ifa virgin has the necessary qualities to be elected as Mother of the Company, She has to be preferred because, as opposed to the widow, she is a daughter of the Company ¯ and ~has been nourished with its milk. In a~ probability the virtues indispensable for a ’mother will shine more brigh!ly in one who has always lived in their practice [The Reformed Rule. Brescia, 1582). This change introdhced by Saint Charles is indeed essential. It would, th_.en, be impossible for us today to return to the actual structures established by Saint Angela. On the contrary, what is possible and what must be done is to,return to her spirit.
The,Evolution of the Company There is not a word in Angela’s Rule or in her other writings which would 852 / Review.for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1984 reveal her vision regarding the inevitable evolu.tion of .the.~new Company. Ignatius Loyola foresaw even in detail what he intended his Company to become. The only remark Angela made on that subject is to be found in the last legacy of her Testament: "If, with change of times ahd circumstances, it becomes necessary to, make fresh rules, or to alter anything, then do it with prudence after taking good advice." In fact, then, we do not know if the foundress had any such vision of the future. We do not know what were her specific intentions which, according to Perfectae Caritatis, are an essential element of the identity, of all religious families. We do not. know what mission Angela entrusted to her Institute: her Rule does not mention any specific form of the apos’tolate.
St. Angela’s Spirit If Angela did not leave specific directions concerning the evolution of her Institute, or identify it.s mission~ she did transmit to her daughters her own spirit and charism through her writings and her example. These two sources, w.hat she wa~ and what she wrote, are so ricti that Ursulines could draw from them until the end of time. Angela’s spMt is one of charity and Christian love, a spirit of joy that is filled with apostolic zeal. But hers also is a spirit of evangelical radicalism, a spirit of prayer, of renunciation and penance: She put.great emphasis on the three evangelical counsels of chastity, poverty and obedience as seen from a very exigent perspective. If one is to avoid the risk of falsif.4ing or deforming An~ela’s spirit, one has to envisage all these elements: St. A ngela’s Charism Angela’s charism unites contemplation with apostolic zeal. This charism, however,: !s so rich that from the earliest days her daughters began to interpret it in different ways. At the beginning, the great majority of them were impressed by the way Angela lived her consecration without retiring from the world, and they wanted,to follow, her example. They formed that branch of the Ursuline family Which was to evolve into what we would now call a secular institute. The maidens had no determinate apostolate. Their special mission consisted in witnessing by their example to Christ’s love for each human being. They had no communal life in the sense that it is practiced in convents. And they were free, as Angela was, to dedicate themselves to different ways of serving the Chu. rch and their brothers and sisters, each one according to hercapacity and jndivii:lu.al vocation. However. also from the beginning there was a growing number of Ursu’ lines who were fascinated b~, a particular aspect of Angela’s charism, one which, with time, began to play a progressively greater role in her own life: Angela was he~:self a born educator, ahd this brought her to found this strange "Company of Saint Ursula’--without prejudic~ to its spiritual dimensions--:" to become an educational institute. The writingS of theMadre, so rich in Angela Merici and the Ursuline Mission sPiritual doctrine, could also, from .a different perspective, provide an excel- lent, brief manual of pedagogics. A significant part of Angela’s daughters, in fact, did interpret the charism of their Mother in that manner. They began to open orphanages, residences, and.schools, These,.in turn, brought the Ursulines themselves to~adopt a communal lifestyle. With time, and under pressure of circumstances and events, these virgins gave birth tb another branch which, after iis .monastic transformation, was to become the most numerous in the great Ursuline family.
Conclusion These are the incontestable l~acts. On the basis of these facts ix’ is clear that Angela’s charism simply cannot be untlerstood in any one way. It has always been possible to interpret the Ursuline.~harism in several ways, and in fact this is happening even today in the different branches of the Merician family. In consequence of these facts, the different kinds of Ursuline apostolic activity should not be seen as a lack of fidelity to Angela’s charism. It would be an oversimplification to see them that way; betraying at the same time an ignorance of the basic pluralism th.ht ig inherent in the Ursuline Institute.~
Theological Reflections Ursuline Identity ’ ’ Up to this point we have been moving in the realm of historical fact. In the face of the pluralism we have discovered, though, another problem arises spontarieously: What about Ursuline identity? Who ar~ Ursulines?’What is their specific mission? Now we are no longer in tl~e area of history but of theology, for ~this is a theological problem. If in history we must base ourselves on documents, in theology we must base ou’rselves on pr~inciples. Our conclusions, furthermore, will di~pend on the principles.we employ. There is a tendency today, in the case of religious communities, to use sociological methods, and thus to draw our conclusions on the basis of purely human argumerita[ion. But a religious family is not a simple sociological grouping, and the laws which govern its’life are specifically different, laws and principles. Indeed. it is God himself who ~ntervenes directly in,the develo.p- mental history of the vocation of a fourider, as indeed of ea(h religious. Thus, whai we aredealing with here is a divine-human reality. This is why, after familiarizing ourselves with the historical data, we should then reflect on the problem of our religiou,~ ider~ti.tY explicitly in the light of principles drawn from Scripture and from~the directives of the hierarchy to whom God has entrusted the task of governing us: "Who hears you, hears me" (Lk 10:16), and "Feed my sheep" (Jn 21:17). ". ~The decree Perfectae Caritatis of Vatican II, to which Sister Mary Ann makes reference in her article, provides us with the principles that should serve 1154/. Review for’Religious, Nov.-Dec. 1984 as the foundation for our understanding of religious life. Of course these are general principles, and thus in some way valid for.each religious institute. According to. Perfectae Carit.atis, one characteristic feat.ure of a religious institute, besides the profession of the three evangelical counsels, is the com- munal character both of such institutes and of their missions: "It is.for the good of the Church that institutes have their .own proper characters and functions" (n. 2). "Function" here means "mission," though in die time of Vatican II this term was not yet so current in the context of religious life. This citation from Vatican II asserts that a religious congregation is not simply a group of individuals, each member of which freely chooses his or her own field of activity according to each one’s personal ,vocation. Rather a religious congregation is a body, a community-team engaged in realizing the same task/mission in the service of.the Chu,r.ch. Research in the las.t few years has discovered anew the efficacy of such concentrated activity, revealing again the tremendous contribution of religious communities in various areas of human life through the ages. Obviously, each member must work in a different way--according to each one’s capacity and creativity, and according to the, needs of the particular community of which he or she is a member. In human society, different is the labor of the bricklayer, of the engineer and of the locksmith. But they are, all of them in their several ways, working at the same undertaking.,Different, too: are the talents and charisms God gives to the individual members of a religious institute. Nevertheless the members are to engage themselves, each ,in his or her own way, in the realization of the same mission. A religious who wants to live and work according to personal vie~vs, with on!y casual participation in the common effort of the congregation, would effectively exclude himself br herself from the community. Such a person_would soon lose the sense of vocation, and run the risk as well of drawing others along the same way by his or her example. The dissolution of the community would then be the sad result of such an attitude. The same text of Perfectae Caritatis insists off the fact that religious com- munities are in the service of the Church and: that the Church needs workers in all fields of apostolic activity. This is why all congregations should not do the same work. why it is essential that each find its own specific function in service to the Church. This sp,’ecific function or "mission," then, is an essential element of religious life. one on which depends the identity of. each religious family. Each member, by his or her vocation, is invited to join the common effort of that .community, and.to consider its mission to be his or her own. But how is one to find the identity and the specific mission of, a congrega-~ tion? This is a question of vital importance, one which the same passage of Perfectae Caritatis helps to resolve: Therefore the spirit and aims of each founder ~hould be faithfully accepted and ’ retained, as indeed should each institute’s sound traditions, for all of these constitute the p,atrimony of an institute. A ngela Merici and the Ursuline Mission
These are the general principles. But general principles alone do not respond to our urgent question: What is the identity of our own Ursuline religious family? ,.~ -We have already seen that we know nothing about Angela’s specific intentions concerning the structures and mission of her institute. Her charism can be, and in fact was, interpreted in a variety of ways by the numerous branches of the Ursuline family. , -On the other hand, we do know very well the spirit of our Foundress. In fact. to be faithful to our identity we have only to accept this spirit in all its dimensions and to live acco.rding to its directions. -A further element remains, as also indicated by our passage from Vatican II. According to Perfectae Caritatis. religious families must also maihtain the sound traditions which, together with Saint Angela’s spirit, constitute the "heritage" of our institute. As we have seen. the "Ursuline tradition" is not the same for each branch of this broad religious family. In my study In Search of the Charism of the Institute (Rome. 1976), 1 have tried to explain the implications of this situation more fully. The overall conclusion is that each branch of Saint Angela’s family has to study its own traditions in order to discover its own identity withifi the Merician heritage. At this place a further remark is of great importance: The individual member, anxious to understand her own identity, has also to return to the grace of her personal.vocation from God. Each member was called, not to be - "Saint Angela’s daughter in general,:’ but she was called to be a member of this specific Ursuline branch. She was called to make her personal adaptation to that branch’s mission and to its sound traditions. To find her own identity, she must remember that she has engaged herself in the enterprise of Ursuline life. and in that moment of decision, it was also clear that God did not call her into this concrete community in order to destroy everything which existed before. so as to build from its ruins her own vision of religious life, .governed only by her own fancy. Rather. God called her to collaborate as far as she was able in realizing the communal mission of that specific branch. This answer, however, should be quite diffe.rently nuanced when applied. not to an individual, but to.an entire branch or community of the Ursuline family. Vatican I1 and more recent documents from the Holy See are quite clear on that point: They ihsist that religious.families have the duty of realizing their particular mission in a creative and dynamic manner. They must remain 6pen to the future, able to adapt to actual needs while respecting the sound traditions of the past. and. which is obvious, they must be prudent, under- standing fully the limits of their possibilities. In the light of what has been said, it seems that Sister Mary Ann’s problem with the "fourth vow"--which after all was practiced only in one of the French congregations, the Paris one need have no great importance for the whole Ursuline tradition. Sister Mary Ann was right when she asserted that the 856/ Review for’Religious, Nov.-Dec., /984
ursuline tradition has always emphasized education rather than instruction. And education is indeed a very broad concept. There is a further problem indicated by Sister Mary Ann which, it seems to m% sets forth a painful tension in our family today. However, I cannot agree with her conclusion when she writes: The choice before a cotnmunity is not just whether or not to continue to take a fourth vow of instruction. It is rather the Choice of whether or not to say what one is living and to live what one is saying (p. 122). This is not a choice at all. To build a religious community on ambiguity is to poison it at its very roots. ~’ One might’ ask, though~ why such an alternative’need have arisen inthe first place. The "missiori" of an institiate,’ after all, is far from being a rigid formula. The "mission" of an institute is simply what Goal expects from that’ institute in the reality of its present situation, and ihei’efore within the limita- tions of its present, real possibilities. ! simpiyodo not understand why a community would:have to choose a mere repetition of its past. In fact, the Church h’erself warns against just sfich an attitude, recofnmending instead that institiates respond to new conditions of life, endeavoring to maintain an ongoing renewal (Perf~ctae Caritatis, n. 2); If any one form of our educational apostolate should become impossible to maintain:’ or should no longer resp6nd to actual needs, ihe congregatiofi~’ has the duty to reflect in common for the purpose of searching out those modifica- tions which have to be introduced for the sake of/he 9postolate. The-field of education is so extensive that it ought always to be pOssible to. find new approaches. ¯ ~ In Poland we had ekperience of tt~is necessity in recent’times. Wh~in our schools were closed under the Nazi occupation, the PoliSh Ursulines, in dra~ matic circumstances and at the risk of their lives, found other ways of continu- ing their educational apostolate. The recently revised Constitutions of the Ursulines of the Roman Union (the branch"to which 1 belong) have fouiad a way to formulate our mission which rbmoves all ambiguity, even as it opens up broad vistas for the future: "Education ,cent’ered on evangelization is the specific.form of our mission." The Constitutions go On tO enumerate in order of priority specific areas for oureducational apostolate. In the first place comes cat6chesis and training of catechists. Secondly they mention preevangelization, helping people’to accept the ~Word of God, Schools’ come only in third place. Finally, the Constitution~ also proVide a long list of possible situations in which our educationa/apostolate might develop. All in all, it would seem tobe rather difficult to find a field today whi~re an Ursuline couldnot function as an ed ucat or~ "" In consequence, there really is no reason for discouragement. Rather, as Sister Mary Ann suggests, we’ ought firmly believe that Angela Merici and the Ursufine Mission
the choice to trust in .joyful confidence the Spirit who leads into the future is to choose fidelity to the very heart of the heritage which Angela Merici has bequeathed not only to her Company of Saint Ursula. but also to countless other consecrated women whose apostolic life in the Church has been made possible by her innovation and inspiration (p~ 123). Our obedience to the Holy Spirit, however, like that of Saint Angela herself, has to be firmly anchored in the total context of such obedience. You should obey first the commandments of God, secondly Holy Mother the Church, for Truth Himself has said. "He that hears you hears Me," thirdly your bishop and pastor, fourthly the governors of the Company and finally all categories of legitimate superiors (see Rule IX). Th~ same Holy Spirit "whose counsels and inspirations are constantly to be heard in our hearts" also directs the Church and its pastors and superiors, and he cannot be in contradiction with himself. We have, then, to accept ,his word in its fullness, whatever be the authentic source from which it arises. 16 Writing above of Saint Angela’s spirit, we insisted on the danger of a unilateralism which would risk falsifying the authentic notion of Angela’s charism. But I would not want to end my article on sonegatiVe a remark. Rather, at the end of this dialogue with you, I would very much hope and pray for all my American friends that your love for Saint Angela will never die out, that you will always retain your enthusiasm, your joyful dynamism and your confidence, and that you will grow eve’r deeper in your knowledge oUthe Merician heritage.
Editor’s Note: ’Sister Mary Ann Fatula had an ~pportunity to preview this response to her earlier article. In ,expressing her own appreciation for Sister Teresa’s article, Sister Mary Ann writes that the several ideas with which Sister Teresa disagrees are not conclusions which in fact Sister Mary Ann was suggesting. She trusts that a ~areful reading of both artiCles will make this evident. Waiting for the "Good Stuff"
Alois O’Toole, C.F.X.
Brother 0~Ioole teaches Freshman Religion in the Xaverian Brothers’ St. John’s High School: S.hrbwsbi~ry, MA 01545. He has also had experience in other schools here and in Kenya, where he served as novice~master.’
Our tit!e~ stems from an occasion when D.J., my ten-year-old grandnephew, took me to see a reissue of Walt Disney’s Fantasia: I had been a fanatic about this film. since its original appearance in 1940. Indeed, I had taken my niece, D.J.’s mother, to see it when she was a little girl! When the film played in Boston a few years ago, she bought two tickets for her son to take me to it. He had also seen it before with his mother, and was quite excited about the prospect. The lights had gone down, and Deems Taylor had just begun his delightful introduction of the soundtfack when D.J. excused himself saying: "Gonna get some more popcorn!~and headed for the foyer. He was gone forso long that I became concerned -- however reluctant 1 was to admit to any lack of confi- dence in his ability to take care of himself. When he finally returned and casually sat down, 1 could not but whisper: "What in the world too~k you so long?" "Oh, nothing," he said, ~I was just waiting for thee good stuff." He had missed the entire treatment of Bach’s Tocata and Fugue, that visual/auditory masterpiece which achieves such delicate beauty in its unique interplay between sound and color. He missed some of Tchaikovsky’s ele- gantly droll and whimsical ]the Nutcracker Suite Which was but’ prelude to Duka’s The Sorcerer’s Apprentice because it has Mickey Mouse in the leading role--his idea of the good stuff. Somehow the commonality of his outlook struck me forcefully, and I became distracted during the remainder of the film by the thoug,ht of how often we miss so much of the gloriousness of the present because weare waiting 858 Waiting for the "Good Stuff"/859 for’the "good stuff." We pass up many small chances of doing a little good while hoping for the big opportunity to do a lot of good; we heedlessly walk on the buttercups looking for a bed of tulips; we ignore the genuine i-caching out in a sincere offer of friendship by those close to us While"waiting for the meaningless" wave of the hand from an artificial glamor-pe~on passing by. We confine our interests and endeavors to a very narrow and limited concept of what has value, and concentrate our efforts on goals we uncritically accept as good because others have said they are, even though they actually contra- dict our professional aims in life. I have thought often since that, in an effort to portray Christ from yet another viewpoint, this may be a helpful way to think and talk.about his life’s endeavors, for surely he came to show us what truly has value. His public life was a constant tension of contradicting and counteracting prevailing notions of what was good. Even apart from his continuing and bitter battle with .the Pharisees, Sadducees and religious leaders, he frequently had to try to correct the values of his relatives and neighbors, ~nd friends like Nicodemus and Martha. But for us, perhaps his most meaningful lessons on what is good came in his interaction with his disciples. ,~ ° The ’0nly thing that mattered in the life of Christ was the will of his Father. All else that he did and taught flowed from his adhesion to that. The letters to the Hebrews emphasizes strongly that the words of Psalm 40 were the theme of his life: "Wherefore, on coming into the world, Jesus said: ’Sacrifice or oblation you did not desire, but a body you have prepared for me; Holocausts and sin offering you took no delight in. Then 1 said, As is written of me in the book; I have come to do your will, O God’ "(Heb 10:6, 7). Significantly the first recorded words of Jesus were: "Did you not know 1 must .be about my Father’s business?" (Lk 2:49). Over and over he insisted that he did only the things his Father had told him to do (Jn 5:19;’5:30; 6:38), he said only the things he was told to say (Jn 7:16; 8:26), Before going to his passion he gloried that he had finished the work the Father had given him (Jn 1.7:4), and he proclaimed that he went forth because "the world must know that I love the Father and do as the Father has commanded me" (Jn 14:31:). His last words--as the first--referred to what the Father~,wanted of him: "Now it is finished" (Jn 19:30). Repeatedly Jesus tried to bring his followers to accept this ideal also. When the "seventy-two" came back from their first mission gloating in their ability to work miracles and cast out devils, he told them that success was not important but pleasing the Father was (Lk 10:17, 18, 20). When it was implied to him that Mary and his own family deserved special treatment he affirmed that not their blood relationship to him but only their obedience to the Father would merit them a reward (Mt 12:47-50). He insisted that his mother’s glory was not in bearing and suckling him but in her receiving and loving the word of God (Lk 11:27, 28). The lesson came hard to his followers. Their ideas of what was the "good 1~60 / Re(,iew.[br Religiousl Nov.-Dec., 1984 stuff" were ideas common to all of us: possessions, popularity, security, achievements, power, glory. Before they would follow him they were inter- ested in what kind of house he could provide them. He told them not only .would they have no home (Jn 1:39) but they would have tO give up everything, having not even a second cloak or a belt or sandals or money (Mr 10:9, 10). They had to give up all concern for material things and for the morrow, and live in trust of God. What was in it for them after that? Nothing in this life but persecution and martyrdom (Mt 10:16-23). James and John were particularly interested in wielding power, consoli- dating their position, providing for their own glory. They wanted to burn down the Samaritan town that would not receive them (Lk 9:51-56); they asked to be closest to Christ in his glory (Mk I 1:35-37). Peter too revealed what he held to be the "good stuff7 when he scolded Christ for uttering nonsense about being put to death (Mk 8:32, 33), when. he wanted to en- shrine himself and James and John with Christ and Moses and Elijah on Tabor (Mk 9:5), and when he cut off the ear of the servant Malchus (Jn 18:10, I1). Indeed all the apostles showed they were uncomprehending.of Christ’s message in such.,things as their concern about public opinion when they "approached him and said ’Do you not realize that the Pharisees were scandalized when they heard your pronouncements’ "(Mr 15:12): They were insensitive too, to Christ’s love for children when they tried to shoo away the children’s mothers who were presenting them to him (Jn 6~i5). Not only" were they uncomprehending of Christ’s prediction of his passion, but they turned from this in order to discuss who of them was most important (Lk 9:43-46). John tells us that the people wanted to make Jesus king after the multi- plication of the loaves and fishes (Jn 6:15). This gives special significance to Matthew’s use of the word insisted in writing: "While dismissing the crowds, Jesus insisted that,, the disciples get into the boat and precede him to the other s~de" (Mr 14:22, 23). Again the "good stuff," as they had envisaged it, was denied them. Even after Christ had delivered himself up to his enemies, willingly endured ignominy and death at their hands, and then fulfilled his promise of resurrection, the message did not get through. When he joined the two disci- ples on the road to Emmaus that Easter evening, and invited them to talk about, how they understood what he had done and why they were leaving the others, they revealed their disillusionment. They did not question the purpose of his death or the fact of his resurrection, but only his failure to do what they had determined he should: "We were hoping that he was the one who would set Israel free" (Lk 24:i3-18). The ascension scene seems to me one of the most poignant in the gos- pels. Despite Christ’s efforts to "pull it all together" for his chosen ones, to Waiting for the "Good Stuf[~’] 861
show them that his obedience to his Father’s will achieved the victory of redemption and resurrection, the last thing they said to him on earth was a pitiful indication of the tenacity with which they rejected all that he had said, and clung to their own.set of values: "Lord are you going to restore the rule of Israel now?" (Ac 1:6). Still waiting for the ~.good stuff’!! The disciples’ ideas of what was good and desirable were those held by so many of their countrymen. They were chosen to receive a special message, to be an advance guard of all those called to rejoice in the Good News that what was generally accepted as "good stuff" was not good but an illusion, a form of slav.ery, of darkness. They were offered an unburdening, a freedom from the bonds imposed by the standards of their society. But they could not even understand the invitation. It is easy to see ourselves in all this. Despite years.of posing as disciples, despite cumulatively months and months of making retreats, despite reading shelves and shelves of spiritual books, attending innumerable conferences, convocations and institutes, listening to endless talks and sermons and dis- cussions, our ideas of the "good stuff" are often more those of the world than of ChriSt. But at least it cannot be said that we do not understand the invitation. We understand it well. We have seen what can be achieved by those who accept it. We hold them as heroes and heroines; we envy them, we read about them with delight; we enjoy their company and their friendship. We also know what the Holy Spirit did for the apostles. Arid we know that until we want eagerly and pray earnestly that he come to us in his fullness, until we open ourselves to his love and let ourselves be charged with his zeal, we will wallow~in mediocrity. We~realize with John that "If we say "We tiave fellowship with him’ while continuing to walk in darkness, .we are liars andwe’do not act in truthY (l Jn i:6). We acknowledge with.John that "lf anyone loves the world, the Father’s love has no place in him, for nothing that the world .affords comes from the Father. Carnal allurements, entice- ments for the eye, the .life’of empty show--all these are from the world. And the world with its seduction is passing away but the man who does God’s will endures forever" (1 Jn 2:.15-17). Only our surrender to the Spirit will do. for us what it did for the apostles and all the saints: it will let us live. our lives not waiting for some fantasied Mickey Mouse adventure, some vague’happiness or nebulous success, but fully and intensely in a present that is glorified by its complete dedication to the love of the Lord alone. The Benedictine Prayer of Beauty
Matthia~ Neuman, 0 S. B.
Father Neuman has contributed to these pages before. His :popular "The Contemporary Spiritu, ality of the Monastic Lectio" is still available as a reprint~ And the issue of January/February, !983, carried his ";Am I Growing Spirituall.i,? Elements for a Theology of Growth.~ Father Neuman continues to reside in and teach theology at St. Meinrad Archabbey; St. Meinrad, IN 47577. ’
yin to capture the full reality of Christian prayer is like grasping a translucent lake mist on a cool September morning. From’a distance the mist seems solid, enveloping everything, ,its shape clear, and etched against the surroundings.. The mist’s clarity invites you with 6onfidence. But the nearer one draws, the ;more the mist fades into the surrounding countryside; you reach for the hard edge and it disappears. The phenomenon,of’ prayer; that elusive meeting of the twin mysteries of God and the human heart, cannot be otherwise: From a distance it appears quite substantial, but its depth remains, hidden, mysterious and ineffable. The mist from afar tbuches trees, rocks, lake and houses~in different ways; it displays myriad forms and moods. So does Christian prayer. But as the mist ultimately returns to the brooding depthof the lake, so all forms of Christian prayer rece~de into.a mysterious God whose creativi.ty knows no limits. The root of true prayer echoes the haunting cry of the Psalmist: "Deep calls to deep in the roar of water’; (Ps. 41, 7). ’~ This article describes a form of prayer, one of those distinct moments when the divine mystery toucfies human beings with a seemingly definite form and feel. Theologians like Urban Holmes, Friedrich Heiler and ,loseph .lung- mann analyze the diverse ways that prayer may be examined as a human process, an activity to be studied and parsed.~ In our modern critical era the phenomenon of prayer is continuously dissected by such disciplines as com- parative religions, the philosophy of religion and the psychology and sociol- ogy of religion. Their research has indeed strengthened the traditional 862 The Benedictine Prayer of BeauO, /863
Christian understandings of prayer with insights and theories that offer impor- tant clarifications into how we raise our hearts and minds to God.2 In this a~ticle I shall utilize the above disciplines as well as an historical perspective to identify and develop a special type of prayer which arose within the Benedictine. monastic tradition. For lack of an accepted terminology I have called it The Prayer of Beauty. No other phrase seems to capture all the particulars of this practice. Like any definite form’of pra3)er it defies absolute categorization, yet the evidences of its presence seem clear-cut in the long view of .historical perspective. An articulated theory of this prayer has frequently been lacking in the reflected ttioughts of Christians who prayed in this way, yet their concrete expressions leave little doubt about its presence and richness in relating them to the Mystery of God. Those familiar with the traditions of Benedictine spirituality will recognize that this Prayer-of Beaiaty bears close tibs to the practice of lectio divina.3 Yet I am convinced that the Prayer of Beauty forms a unique and sep.arate way of praying; hopefully this article will establish that conviction. This style of prayer developed slowly through the centuries and not always in logical fashion. The many experiences of numerous unknown monks and nuns showed that its method worked in joining them lovingly to,that Divine Mystery they sought and worshiped. ~The Prayer of Beauty became and remains most assuredly an integral element of the Benedictine ethos of Chris- tian monastic life. It needs open acknowledgment as a partoof the Benedictine charism :of religious life in the Church. From this point of origin may its fruitfulness continue to spread to many others ,in the Christian world and beyond. In the following pages I hope to provide a clear formulation of this Prayer of Beauty so that it may be more deliberat.ely recaptured, assimilated and developed. These are tasks which fall to a theology .of prayer and such is the primary intent of this article. However, it is also my fond hope that readers wile begin to appreciate and practice’this form of prayer in their own Christian living For a primary goal of all Christian theology is moment of relationship between the Mystery of God and the human heart.
Preliminary Description Before going into the particulars of historical ~rigin and development, a beginning ttescription of this prayer will serve to guide our reflections, The Benedictine Prayer of Beauty is a way of praying which begins with a positive appreciation .of sorhe natural/human or artistic beauty and then moves from that limited beauty into an appreciation of God as the Absolute and Infinite Beauty. Our investigation will examine the various aspects of this description through I~oth historical and modern critical lenses. As mentioned above the philosophy of religion has been particularly help- ful in distinguishing forms of prayer. For example, a structural analysis of human communication can identify various kinds of prayer according to the 864 / Review for Religious, ":Nov.-Dec., 1984
components involved in the specific act of communicating. Since prayer may be broadly defined as a communication between a human person or persons and God. the basic structural elements will be threefold: I) a particular view of the human person: 2) a particular view of God, and 3) a specific form of communication. The .different contents of these three elements will create divergent styles and forms of prayer. Indeed a change in just one of these elements ever so subtly effects adjustments in the remaining two. As the image of God might change from a severe overlord into a loving parent, one is forced into a reevaluation of self as a loved child (instead of punishable slave) and a reevaluation of communication as trusting response (instead of fearful anxiety). Every act of prayer in fact contains within it implicit assumption~ of who God and the human person are, and what is the best way that communication occurs between them. Moreover. psychologists of religion have noted that prayer attains a definite style and becomes powerfully effective when there qs a harmony between the three structural factors. An integrated spirituality pushes toward an interlocking consonance between who God is. who the person is, and how we communicate.4 The Prayer of Beauty we are considering contains interlocking meanings for the three structural elements. Its view of the human person acknowledges and stresses the abilities of imagination, sensitivity and intuition particularly as these unite in an act of appreciating something beautiful. This prayer flows out of a psychology that gives high priority to those aspects of t_~he human psyche involved in an affective and creative assessment of life. This prayer has a vision of God as Absolute and Infinite Beauty, a mysterious beauty which underlies and may blossom up through all limited and passing forms of beauty.S Lastly, the,Prayer of Beauty sees the act of communication between God and human beings happening directly within an.experience of appreciat- ing the beautiful. The contents of this communication urge an appreciative frame of mind and all that it implies for human we.ll-being. In sum, this prayer affirms that natural and human beauty possess an innate capacity and direc- tion toward transcendence; they are points at which God may become present in human awareness.6 My contention is that this Pra~,er of Beauty was recognized, practiced and developed within that Christian monastic tradition of Western Europe called "Benedictine." It arose out of several factors which contributed to the forma- tion of Benedictinism itself. Thus it has been and remains a natural form of Benedictine prayer. From ~hat source in the communities of Benedictine men and women it spread and influenced the larger Christian heritage in the West. To know, love and teach this form of praying remains a true portion of the ministry of prayer for the Benedictine charism. One might note that similar traditions of a Prayer of Beauty have long bi:en pres.ent in other great religions of the world, just as forms of Christian meditatign find comparable practice in Hinduism and Buddhism. Let one example suffice, a quote from the sixteenth-century Hindu mystic, Dadu: The Benedictine Prayer of Beauty/ 86"5
When I look upon the beauty of this Universe I cannot help,.asking: ’How, O Lord, did you c~me to create it’? What sudden wave of joy coursing through your being com- pelled its own manifestation’? Wa~ it really due to a desire for self-expression, or s,mply on the impulse of em~iion? Or was it perhaps just your fancy to revel in the play of form’? Is this play then so delightful to you’? Or is it that you would see your inborn delight thus take shape? Oh. how can these questions be answered in words: only those who will understand. That is why your universe, this creation of yours, has charmed me ~so--your waters and your breezes, and this earth which holds them. with its ranges of mountains, its great oceans, its snowcapped poles, its blazing sun. because, through all the three regions of earth, sky and heavens, amidst all their multifarious life. it is your ministration, your beauty, that keeps me enthralled. Who can know you. O invisible. unapproachable, unfathomable’? Dadu has no desire to know’, he is satisfied to remain e.nraptured with all this beauty of yours, and to rejoice in it with you.7 This Prayer of Beauty is an enriching and valuable kind of prayer which needs recapturing in our modern Western Christiaia culture so often burdened by residues of past dogm.atisms,and overly severe asceticisms. At the same time we recognize that the presuppositions of this prayer will always provoke opposition from some individuals. A few people will instinct_i.ve, ly fear ~ts positive 9ssessment and use of the emotions and imaginauon: they-are,indi- viduals who have not been able to,positively interiorize those human abilities in their living of faith. Those who see the Christian faith as almost ex, clusively a dogmatic or moralistic religion will have.no time for the "appreciation" which this prayer so highly values. And, thoseowhose image of God continu- ally reflects a judgmental severity will struggle ,with God’s My.stery as Infinite Bea,uty. Such hostilities and oppositions wil! always be present, but they can- not nega,te the benefits that this Christian prayer has effected in many Christ tian lives. Neither should they hold, usoback from recapturing those riches and letting them become a part of Christian p~rayer in the world today. Let us then pro’ceed to a surv~ey of the historical steps leading to the origin of the Benedictine Prayer of Beauty and then develop some theological and spiritual reflec~tions on its,practice in Christian lives today. The Historical Challenge The contention made above that this prayer arose out of the Benedictine monastic tradition may appear odd to thos~ familiar with the Rule of Bene- dict. For that Rule seems to offer little Support for any connection between prayer,and beauty. In. fact, not a single reference or allusion to anything like the description of the Prayer of B~,auty given earlier can. be found in that foundational, document of the Benedictines. St. Benedict’s few references on personal prayer basically appropriate the somber, .moralistic traditions0of Egyptian desert monastictsm. That desert asceticism.in both its eremitical and cenobitic forms embraced a style of praying characterized~by strict penance and a sharp body-soul opposition. Prayer was a means of penance; it aihaed almost solely at purificat, ion of life.. Prayer sought to .control the emotions, seeing value only in those relating to moral conversio,n, like "spiritual"joy or the sorrow of tears.8 o 1~66 / Review for Religious, Nov.:Dec.. 1984
Even the more theological monasticism of Evagrius Pontus and its West- ern dissemination in the Institutes and Conferences of John Cassian retain a predominant severity.ahd harshness. The Nro-Platonic psychology assimi- lated by ~Evagrius pi.a, ces prioritY on intellectual and volitional faculties. Imag- ination and the emotions, as well,as, the appreciation which is their natural function, receive little positive evaluation ~from either Evagrius or Cassian. This view of the human person dominated and shaped both attitudes and practices of prayer: Prayer for Evagrius is contemplative and the habitual state of a’perfect soul. The true, wise and spiritual soul, the man of prayer seeks con~lant union with God, talking with him as a father, having removed all passionate thoughts. To attain perfect prayer the ascqt!~ has to work fot~ a..progressive control, blotting out all thoughts, preoccupations. t.endencies, inclinations, memories .... ,,9 The Rule of Benedict carries on this prayel tradition of Egyptian desert monagticism. References to personal prayer in the Rule are fe~Sbut they convey the feel and intention that prayer always seeks conversion and carries a weight of obligation, (Chap. 49. "The Observanc~ of Lent"). Fear, reverence. compun~:tion and conversion remain the lenses through which prayer is examined in Benedict’s spiritual teaching.~0 Even the mohastery’s communal prayer, while-a prayer of praise, is drawn in terms of an obligation. This community prayer is named Opus DeL prayer as work. Similarly the emotions shown in prayer are the sad~emotions, the prayer of tears, to atone for one’s offenses: "Eve.ryday.with tears and sighs’confess ybur past sins to God in prayer and change from these evil ways in the future" (RB 4, 57-58). If one is hard-pressed to identit~y any practice of the Prayer of Beauty in theo RB, how may such an assertion of Benedictine origin be, maintained? Quite simply by recognizing that the charism of Benedictinism encompasses miach more ~than the written Rule of Benedict. Fortunately the last two decades have produced serious theological efforts towards precisely identify- ing the "charism" of a religous community. In practically all instances of any long-lived community the core of its charism includes elements, beyond the foundingdocuments: these include the religious personality of it~ founder, the lived application of the first documents, the influence’of other religious and societal factors assimiiffted by the living community, or the evolving history, of the community tradition)~ Several 6f these dimensions became essenti~il ele- ments of that religious charism called "Benedictine:" ,To begin, we shruld note that the fundamental shaping of the Benedictine monastic way .of life falls within the approximate span of the three hundred yearsbetween 550-850 A.D. In this time period a group of extremely divei’se monastic movements in Western Europe would evolve a somewhat common Way of life and evehtually call themselves the followers of St. Benedict. West- ern Europe at the beginning, of the~ sixth century included a wide variety of monastic institutibns: small farm-’monasteries, semi-eremitical laura, educa- tional monasteries, ~ontemplative houses, and communities devot~ed to liturgi- The Benedictine Prayer of Beauty
cal praise. Within these, houses lay an equally diverse spread of cultural traditions: Romari. Egyptian. Celtic. Gallic. Jural and Merovingian. No single rule held a monopoly, butmany were observed partially or in mixed form. Into this diversity of traditions the Rule of Benedict entered l and over several hundred years eventually achieved a preeminence. The way of life called "Benedictine" thus drew its fundamental elements not only from the Rule but also from the traditions of already existing monastic groups which adopted the Rule, and more particularly from the actual experiences derived from living in the confluence of the two preceding factors (the "lived history"). Only later, toward+ the end of a three hundred year period of experimentation and molding, would monasteries in Western Europe begin to identify themselves as Benedictine. It would not be an exaggeration to say that between 800 and 820 the monastic way of life. the ordo monasticus, became officially, at least within the Empire (CarolingianJ. the ordo sancti Benedicti. anci" that the monks felt for the first time an esprit de corps, together with a persuasion, shared by all. that they had in St. Benedict a common father and prdtector)-’ If the prayer traditions,of the Egyptian desert and the Rule of Benedict do not provide the vision that created the Prayer of Beauty, then we must turn to other cgmpgnents in this mixed tradition of Benedictine origins. And we shall find that .vision as our gaze turns from the bleak, forbidding deserts of the East to the soft green hills in the Western Celtic lands, o The Celtic Heritage The true origins of the Prayer of Beauty in the Benedictine monastic tradition trace theiroroots~to a complex qf attitudes and practices which were assimilated from Celtic Christian monasticism. The Celtic m~ssionary monks and nuns of the fifth to eighth centuries remain among the most complex yet alluring religious figures of early mrdieval EurolSe. So many of their customs emerge from and recede into the shadowy realms of history. The Christian life .they inspired seems to have borrowed a great deal straight from their pre-- Christian cultures, yet they were the firmest followers of Jesus ChriSt. Strongly committed to an ascetical faith, they still developed a monastic style uniqtiely their own. In the sixth and seventh centuries these Celtic monks and nuns embarked on a massive missionary thrust toward the continent of Europe in order to bring the vacillating Germanic tribes firmly uhder the banner of Christ. These missionaries both founded their own monastic houses as well as merged into already existing monasteries. In this extensive amalgamation they imparted attitudes and practices, into European Christianity in general and in particular into that emerging monasticism which becomes .historical Benedictinism.13 While the Irish monastics influenced many areas of church life like the form of sacramental reconciliation, our investigation will focus only on those aspectg which contributed to the Prayer of Beauty. Five elements in particular 868 / Review for Religious. Nov.-Dec. 1984 may be identified which depart radically from the monastic vision of the Egyptian desert." ~ The first Celtic quality which’diverges from desert asceticism is a vibrant love of nature. While the physical environment of Celtic lands could at times be harsh, the fields, forests, rivers and seas possessed a natural beauty that evoke a loving’and appreciative response. A lush green countryside was ever part 6f the Irish ethos: it imaged for the monk and nun a constant reminder Of God. One monastic poem sings: Delightful I think it is to be in the bosom of an isle On the crest of a rock That I may look there on the manifold Face of the Sea That I may see its heavy waves Over the glittering ocean As they chant a melody to their Father Of [heir eternal course,~4 The feeling in these lines moves from delight in nature (rock, sea. waves) to a perception of God and eternity; it demonstrates the heari and soul of the Prayer’ of Beauty. This Celtic love of land. trees, "birds and sky contrasts sharply with the harshness of’ Egyptian desert imagery: in the latter tradition nature pfinishes and purifies and so must be used for ascetical cleansing. Environment always affects the mood and climate of prayer, and to the Celt the beauty of nature sang richly of God’s love. care and gentleness. A close connection between prayer and poeto, forms the second unique Celtic quality. I! is but a slight step from an appreciation of natural beauty to the appreciation of human art. These monks and fiuns voice~l their prayers in poetic form. Their hymns and Ioricae (rhymed litanies) sangof an experience of God captured in the art of creating poetry. God be praised who ne’er forgets me In my an so’ high and cold And still sheds upon my verses All the magic of red gold ~ Raise you? voice in praise. O people! Praise the Lord God everywhere. Since the little birds must praise him They who have no soul but air.~ Some scholars believe these Christians monastics merely incorp0rated,the earlier traditions of the Druidic bards. As the wandering bards composed poetic songs in praise of famous heroes and clan honor, the Celtic monks sang poetic praises to their Lord God and Christ.~7 Deep within the poetry and singing lay a basically positive appreciation of human art and beauty; almost by second nature they became actions of haonastic prayer, Third, the Celtic monks possessed a deep love of learning, not as a de- tached, rational process but a learning that included and integra~ted all human abilities. Their holistic education valued highly an imaginative expression. A The Benedictine Prayer o.f Beauty marvelous manuscript tradition (e.g. The Book of Kells) witnesses this appre- ciation of ideaS and.words blended smoothly with a rich affection for image, design and color. Behind this view of education we can glimpse an anthropol- ogy of the human, pers6n as essentially imaginative and artistic. Celtic cultural traditions emerged from different sources than the Mediterranean Latin tradi- tions of society and human nature. The Celts preserved a more fluid and imaginative approach to life. These monk- and nun,scholars will bequeath to continental monasteries a gift for creative insight that complements well the fundamental abstraction of Roman thought.18 A fourth unique Celtic characteristic shows a monastic tradition in which open. and affective friendships between men and women were positively appreciated and enjoyed. The practice of having a "soul friend" who could share one’s inner struggles for faith so often became a deep human and religious sha~ring between monastic men and women.~9 The affection and love expressed between tliese’~companions of the spiritual way sharpened their sensitivities toward Communication’through non-verbal, emotional and highly poetic fo~rms. Examples of this monastic love, poetry@ossess all the delicacy of any Renaissance or Romantic song: Nb pleasure That deed I did, tormenting him, "lbrmenting what I treasure. Joyfully But that God had come between .us then Had I granted what he begged of me. Not unwise Is the way that he is taking now. Enduring pai,n and ga, ining Paradise. Great fol~ly Where oncel showed such gentleness To s~t Cuirithir against me! I_iadan, I~ Th, ey say that I loved Cuirithir, Nor would I. if I could, deny. ;l’he while I bless -,:That I was in his company And was lreating him wilh tenderness.-~° With such a background of previous characieristics no wonder that a fifth cohtribution of Celtic mo’nasticism should be a confessiofi of God as the Beautiful Creator and. Gentle Guide of our lives. As these monks and nuns lived and preached the Gospel of J~su~. their vision of God’s Myst&ry alway’s included the i~age of a Creator delicately touching his creation with b~:~tshes of beauty. This’belief in the Father of Jesus as Su’preme Beauty balances the divine Deus of Rorrian patristic theology, the Almighty One who resides above His ordered Creation. The Celtic muse felt no hesitation in saying: Who is God, I]70 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Deck, 1984
And where is G.od, Of whom is God, And where his dwelling? Is he ever-living, Is he beautiful, Was his son Fostered by nSany? Are his daughters Dear and beauti~ful To the men of the world? This poem, written to describe the Christian God l~y contrast with other gods, places beauty as a preeminent divine quality which overflows into crea, tion and humanity. It is a vision of divinity much closer to the Syriac Pseudo- Dionysius than to the strongly moral God of the Latin patristic tradition.22 In summary, the great humber of Celtic missionary monks and nuns carried and implanted this spirituality into the mainstream Of monastic living in Western Europe. Their view of the diviiae-human relationship pictured in imaginative, affective and artistic ways would graft radically new elements into continental monastic spirituality. The Prayer of Beai]ty would’~blossom full-blown from these new seeds planted in the ascetical vision of desert monasticism.23 The Benedictine Synthesis The Carolingian Age (ca. 750-850 A.D.) witnessed the decisive emergence of that monastic style classically identified as Benedictine. This vision of monastic life assimilated and transformed many.different sources of Christian asceticism into a style of living quite different from the simple outline of the Rule of Benedict. Benedictine monastic culture was the result of centuries of lived experience that melded Roman, Celtic and Germanic influences and reacted creatively to an entirely new epoch in,~Church and society. Dom David Knowles accurately describes this "historical Benedictinism"." A type of monastery became normal which united a number of characteristics which in St. Benedict’s lifetime were only to be found in separation:~while drawing the main outlines of its government and spiritual:life from the Rule, it had the complexity and intellectual color of a Vivarium or a Bobbio,and the highly ela.b.o~te liturgical life of a Basilican monastery34
T,,his type of monastery, classically exemplified in the famous "Plan ~of St: Gall, and legislated under the reform of Benedict of Amane, crystalhzed into historical°Benedictinism.2s Indeed, the monastic vision,, and social dynamics Of Benedictine rfiona~steries over the past twelve hundre~d y,ear~s haye consistently. approximated the larger, complex communities of the Carolingian epoch. rather than the qommunal farm monasticism, reflected in .the’Rule itself. Per- haps it could not be otherwise Since the early medieval monks viewed them- selves a~ living an open charism of Gospel rife, one which welcomed other aspects of life to illuminate and spread the Gospel of Jesus Christ. The Benedictine Prayer of Beauty/~=871
Within these Carolingian Benedictine houses of~men and women an,elabo- rate sy..stem of community prayer evolved. The’monasteries became official prayrr.centers for the whole of early medieval society. Spiritual writers often tend to focus almost entirely on this lengthy and lavish explosion of choral prayer, the lausperennis.26 But these monks and nuns also nourished a vibrant tradition of personal .prayer, .a tradition, containing both the penitential laments of the desert tradition as well a~ the affective enjoyment of the Celtic ethos. Their private spiritual practices’nurtured a religious climate that valued the imaginative and affective side of human expression. More particularly a person~s relation to-God’s infinite’ Mystery included a sensitive appreciation and expression of the beautiful io one’s life. Though the Celtic monks and nuns will eventually.disappear as a separate group in Christian history, their religious geniu.s will live on as a permanent quality of Benedictine spirituality.27 The life in these Benedictine hotises gave much evidence of using the appreciation of beauty as a means of experiencing God as Absolute Beauty. The poetry remained and flourished. Walafrid Strabo, Rhabanus Maurus, the tragic Gottschalk, Lupus of Ferrieres--all.loved tO express their thoughts, feelings, hopes and vision of God through the poetic form.28 In one gem of a poem Walafrid captures the. dynamic, of nature’s beauty, human friendship and affective desire stimulating God’s presence in human life. When the moon’s splendor shines in naked heaven, Stand thou and gaze beneath the open sky. See how that radiance from her lamp is riven. And in one splendor foldeth gloriously Two that have loved, and now divided far. - Bound by love’s bond, in heart together are.
What though thy lover’s eyes in yam desire thee. Seek for love’s face. and find that face denied? Let that light be between us for a token. Take this poor verse that love and faith inscribe. ~,ove~are thou true? and fast love’s ~hain about thee? Then for all time. O love, God give thee joy!29 This monastic age created an explosion°rf hymnody reflected in the com- mon choral prayers, .a poetry in song. The appreciation of poetic beauty left its mark on the Divine Office. Attbntion was given to perform the Opus Dei as an experience of beautiful praisi:. More and more monastic buildings reflected a consuming desire for an artistically beautiful architecture, an abundance of finely crafted ecclesia!o.furnishings and ornaments, as well a.soa geographical location of natural beauty,s° Carolingian and Ottoman monastic churches reflect a sensitivity that unites function with beauty. In his manual on church construction Walafrid argues: "If God did not want to draw men toward himself by means bf beauty, why did he give the stars their splendor, the flowers their fragrance?TM Finally, this ethos of aesthetic appreciation will broaden to contemiSlate the beautiful in the common elements and happen- 879 / Review for Religious, Nov,-Dec:. 1984
ings .of daily life. P.oems describing the plants in the monastery garden, com- "ments,in the margin of a manuscript reflecting the hopes for the future or the current political climate, expressions of daily companionship--all the~e are appreciated as touches of beauty in human life, touches of God that caress the hea rt .... ~ o~The Carolingian Benedictines shaped this manner, of appreciation iri~o a way of personal prayer that became distinctive in the Western Christian tradi- tion, a Prayer of Beauty. Su.ccessive centuries of Benedictine monasteries and convents would nurture their spirituality from this rich tradition. °The appreci- ation of.natural, human and artistic beauty as a beginning step of Christian prayer shines through: such diverse figures~ as the nun, Hrotsvith of Gander- slieim (ca. 932-1000), who composed marvelous comic dramas about Chris- tian life modeled after the classical plays of Terence, to JOhn of Fecamp (ca. 990-1078) who develop~ a theory of contemplative prayer that senses God’s sweetness and beauty through wonder and tenderness: When my soul longs for the divine vision, and As far as it is able sings of its glory... All is ’peace and quiet. The heart is aflame With love, the soul joyful, the memory Strong, the understantling full of light: And my whole spi’rit, burning with the Desire of beholding thy beauty, is borne Away by the love of the unseen realities.3-’.. In many different areas of appreciation these Be, nedictine mon~.stics prized all forms of beauty and found there a pathqeading toward God’s Mystery, God as the All-Beautiful. It has often been noted by historians of culture and art that these practices~ of appreciation occur almost spontaneously for several centuries. There is a r~markable lack of any theorizing about this form of prayer or even the relationship of aesthetic appreciatiian to ChriStian prayer.33 Only with the eleventh and twelfth centuries does there begin an effort to articulate a theology of aesthetic appreciation, a theology which grounds the Prayer of Beauty solidly within_ the parameters of Christian,spirituality. One of the clearest¯ of these sPiritual theologiags is Suger, the famous abbot of St. Denys in Paris. He not only recapitulates ~hi~ longstanding Benedictine heri- tage of beauty and prayer, but seeks to push it to new heights.. As abbot of a ¢0yal abbey and one which sets a standard, his teaching on, prayer desires tb influence~ all believers t,o enter into an aesthetic expe~ience of faith and prayer. He ..~aptures the heart of this tinique movement by describing his own meciitation~on-"tbe great jeweled cross in the abbey cfi~zh qf~ St. Denys: When~out of my delight in the beauty of the house of G0d--the Iovel.iness of,the. many-colgred stones has called me away from e:xternal care, and worthy meditation has induced me to reflect, transferring that which is mate~Zial to tl~at which is.immaterial on the diversity of the sacred virtues: then it seems to me:that I see myself dwellifig,as it were, in somb strange region of the universe which neither eXists~e~ntirely in the slime of ~ earth nor entirely in the purity of heaven; and that, by the grace of God, I can be " The Benedictine Prayer of BeauO, /’873
4 ¯ transported from this inferior to the higher florid’ in an anagogical manner) Suger’s meditation (prayer) centers ott an appreciation of the artistic beauty of the cross. ’ Through the ~harmony and radiance of this beauty he experiences abandonment of the cares and concerns that usually clog ,his mind. This created beauty and its attendant attit:ude’of appreciation prepa.res the’ way for a glimpse of God’s beauty, a religious experience given in grace. The appreciation of.beauty therefore begins a process which intuitively moves from the exterior object to an interior appreciation of the self’s beauty and thence to the threshold of God’s Infinite Beauty. In this passage Suger articu- lates a theology to support the Benedictine Prayer of Beauty. This teaching found ample corroboration in artistic theories of the early twelfth century. The artists themselves knew that the creation of beautyooccurs through the action of God’s-Spirit in one’s heart, mind and hands: ¯.. you have approached the House of God with confidence and have adored it with so much beaut~,: you have embellished the ceiling~ or" walls with varied works in differeft colors and have. ~n some measure, shown to beholders’the paradise Of God. You have given them cause to praise the Creator in the creature and proclaim him wonderul in his works.35 In the centuries following this synthesis of theology and practice, Benedic- tine men and women have always seemed to keep alive the practice of .the Prayer of Beauty even if the theory is frequently forgotten. Their car~ to s(lect a ~etting of natural beauty for the monastery, an attentiveness to ar3istic crafts to enhance their house and church, a sensitivity~to liturgical celebration, to music and song reveal an aest.hetic sensitivity that slips so often into prayer, a Prayer. of Beauty. This experience has been continuously preserved and passed on as an essential element of the Benedictine charism and a rare jewel in the treasury of Western Christian spirituality." A Contemporary Practice of the Prayer of Beauty A!though the foundational experience of the Prayer of Beauty was solidly laid centuries ago, both practice and theology need rediscovery in our current age. Any cultural foundation, no matter how, sturdy, accumulates debrii; and attracts undergrowth; trauma and change may obscure the vision of entire generatio.ns..Having laid bare those origihal foundations, we may now turn to the second major goal of this article and develop a practtce of ".he Prayer of Beauty for Christians today. My fond hope is that all Christians may learn to use’this form.0f prayer to enrich their manifold relationship with the Mystery of God. Some critical observations from modern theology and the human sciences will help to clarify various aspects of this form of prayer. Th~ cultural mentality of the twentieth century places great value on the quality of subjectivity and the particular intentionality of the personal subject in any human activity. To practice the Prayer of Beauty in such a culture deman=ds a more exact inquiry into the meaning of"appreciation." Psycholo- gists often refer to contrasting styles of.human consciousness such as analyti- 1~74 / Review for Religious, Nov.~-Dec., 1984 cal reflection vs. integrative reflection; philosophers speak of cognitive or volitional or aesthetic states of mind.~ To carefully examine the appreciative style within those who pray a Prayer of Beauty reveals a° quality of awareness which is neither abstract nor utilitarian, neither judgmental nor possessive; the appreciative state of.mind simply delights, pauses and drinks in the loveliness of a moment, event or person. The Jewish theologian, Abraham Heschel, movingly describes an approach to the world and God that reveres and senses wonder. It does not seek for control .or pursue success. Reverence and wonder lead more surely to Mystery, to God.36 .This insight serves tO sharpen the grasp of what is involved in this Prayer of Beauty. A part of, its practice demands a discipline that induces a person to. relax the analytical abilities and calm the push for action; to enter into a flexible, joyful state of awareness and living becomes an integral step in the Prayer of Beauty. One very traditional method of relaxing and becoming appreciative is to allow the physical rhythms ~ind harmonies of nature to touch our awareness, to infiltrate our minds and eventually rework our learned societal reactions into more natural living movements. Walking leisurely in the woods, watching the waves of the sea or being enthralled with the antics of birds’ and chip- munks can induce an incredibly calming effect. Enjoyment, calmness "and leisure--all contribute to that appreciating mood. that subjective side of the Prayer of Beauty. ~ The experiential tradition of this prayer asserts that th~ appreciation ~f natural or artistic beauty leads into the appreciation of God as Beauty. As with, all forms of Christian prayer this can never imply a manipulation of God; believers do not force God’s ~presence by means of prayer. The’point of spirituality made here simply asserts that God’s Mystery does occur often in the sensitive appreciation of natural and artistic beauty. Spiritual writers, affirm not a theo.logical necessity, but rather the accumulated wisdom of monastic practice. While any appreciationof beauty may harbor a transcen- dent experience, the Mystery ,of the Christian God as the All-Beautiful happens only as grace. Still the Catholic vision affirms grace most often building on nature in God’s plan. The Prayer of Beauty stands .as a true, Christian prayer, confessing the traditional wisdom of a way that has led to God, yet always preserving a sovereign freedom to that Mysterious.God. The above comments move ,us to a rephrasing of the three essential ele- ments in a structural analysis of prayer. The Prayer of Beauty envisages the human person as an affective and imaginative being. Human~ beings do not live by analysis alone, nor do they live simply to roll up their sleeves and dig in: there are also moments in which the highest humanity is achieved by simple delight and enjoyment (as true for vowed religious as for anyone). To take time and leisure to feel ourselves consciously as,affective and appreciative, persons becomes a preparation for prayer... The Prayer of Beauty sees the Mystery of God as a fanciful and playful Creator, indeed a Beautiful God. St. Thomas Aquinas suggested the.beauty of The Benedictine Prayer of’Beauty / ~175
God ’as the very cause of creation. "Being in love with his own beauty, God wanted to multiply itas far as possible, so he gave a likeness of it to creatures. His motive in creation, therefore, was to make beautiful things.’’37 This "beau- tiful" quality of God balances those of goodness (morality, judgment) and truth (revelation, doctrine). Finally, the Prayer of Beauty involves a commumcation between God and the human person which results not in insight or moral motive but in a deeper appreciation, a richer enjoyment of the realities of faith. Another way of considering the content of communication would be to ask: how does the Prayer of Beauty affect the one who prays? What kinds of fundamental transformations go on when people enjoy a beautiful sunset and slip into a feeling of God’s grandeur, or delight in a well-phrased line of p6etry and then sense an echo of God in the human joy? The change is not in intellectual concepts, or m the immediate alteratiofi of motives and actions. but more in the quality of the affective life. The individual senses a deeper harmony with God’s Mystery or with other believers. One feels a linkage being formed without bei_ng ~ble to explain it. only to rejoice in it. After listening to a complex theblogian give a moving testimony of faith, a friend of mine remarked: "I couldn’t follow any of his arguments, but 1 knew in my heart he was fight." The P~iyer of Beauty evokes a similar appreciation of faith. This prayer deepens one’s basic sensitivity by enriching the affective tex- ture of consciousness. Following this prayer a person often feels much more alive: open ~nd receptive to depth and meaning. In Heschel’s thinking we come away from a moment of wonder with a renewed ability to see transcen- dence in all things. The Prayer of Beauty changes us by increasing a capability .for sympathy and compassion. One leaves this prayer with a greater openness to value the life of another and a willingness to give sympathy. The Prayer of Beauty often restores a balance in life. The natural rhythms of trees, animals, music or painting help to recover the goodness of self and a harmony with our life-worlds. The Prayer of Beauty also helps to sooth an angry or. depressed heart. ~ And lastly, this prayer with its love of line, color, sound and tbUch restores an appreciation of t.he positive sensuousness of.life (again, monks and nuns need that,-Z-often more than anyone else). God’s Creation is good; such is a basic teni~t of Catholic Christian faith. Creation acts as a pathway of sanctifi- cation~ but believers must allow it and invite it to do so. The Prayer of Beauty restores the power of sensual creation to begin the proces~ of ~:aising us to God’s Mystery in Absolute Beauty.38 In sum, then, the Prayer of Beauty may lead into a richer awareness of our life si.tuations, a greater intuitive sense of God, an interior courage to accept our obligations, or an~appreciation of the simple, sensual world around us as a rumor of God, a grace. The early Benedictines found many ways to immeise themselves in the appreciation of beauty: riature, poetry, music, manuscript ,painting, liturgy,, 876 / Review for "Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1984
architecture~, even the conversations of friends. Should not all these be e~lually open to modern Christians?~9 Once the dynamics of this prayer are grasped and trusted, may we not turn to any form Of beauty and discover a delight which leads to God? The crucial test of .this prayer remains always in the presence of Beautiful Mystery evoked, its gentle appreciation and the affective changes produced in humari lives. ,The Benedictine tradition offers its collec- .live tesumony of experience that true prayer does happen in such moments. The challenge for us is:to discover Grace p(esent in similar moments today.
Conclusion " -~ 1 hope readers no~ understand, more Clearly how the Benedictine Prayer of Beauty takbs its place as a preciofis part of the heritage of Christian spirituality. Many individuals to.day in this anxious and competitive world would do well to d~vote more attention to its practi~e. Benedictine’s and other religiou~ might well focus on making this style of praying a ~art of their ministry of prayer. Every Christian believer should consider to what extent he or she appreciates God as the Absolute Beauty fotlnd~thr.ough our apprecia- tion Of natural and artistic beauty. Then each of~us might realize the words of Pablo Picasso on.viewing a work of firt: "Something holy,~that’s it’ .. ~i0u ought to.be able to s~y that a painting is as it is, with its capacity .to move us, because it :is as t~hough it were touched by God."~° ..... The September mist has risen from the lake’s clear surface. We have explored 6ne edge 0~" it. It settles back into the ~eep mystery of the lake.
NOTES
~ Friedrich Heiier; Prayer: A Study in the History and Psychology of Religion (Oxford U. Press, 1958); Urban T. Holmes, A History of Christian Spirituality (Seabury Press~ 1981); Joseph A. Jungmann;, Christian Prayer through the Ages (Paulist Press, 1978). -’The study of pra3;er.has fascinated many contemporary social scientists. The analytic tools they bring proVide increased clarity into ’the complexity of the act 6f pr-,iying. Still one: must be careful to keep these investigations ~vithin limits; they must not b~ allowed to dissoive the MyStery, even if they Seem tempted to. See Aylward Shorter, Prayer in the Religious,~Traditions of Africa (Oxford U. Press,,1975),,pp. 1-25. , .. ’ ~ln my article, "’The Conle, mporarY Spiritualitylof the Monastic Lectio," REviEw f.0r RE~.~GIOtJS 36 (1977), 97-110, I made some allusions to the significance of appreciating beauty as a step within the prayer of leetiO. ~For a technical diScussion of the structural elements in acts of communication, see.Erving Goffman, Interaction Ritual (Doubleday Anchor, 1967). Also Thomas M. Steinfatt, Human Communication: An~ lnterl?ersonal Introduction ( Bobbs-Merrill,,197.7). , SThe Christian doctrine of God is more complex than many people realize. The BeaUty of God has long been a legitimate theme within the Christian theological tradition, even if not often r~cognized in our day. See Armand A. Maurer~ C.S.B., About Beaut’),." A Thomist[c Int,erpreta- lion (Houston: Center for Thomistic Stu’dies, 1983), pp. 105-125. The Benedictine Prayer Qf Beauty [ 877