Archbishop Migliore on Human Rights

Archbishop Migliore on Human Rights

"We Must Not Lose Sight of Those Who Live With Little Hope"

NEW YORK, OCT. 29, 2008 (Zenit.org).- Here is the message Archbishop Celestino Migliore, permanent observer of the Holy See to the United Nations, delivered Tuesday before the Third Committee of the 63rd session of the U.N. General Assembly on the promotion and protection of human rights.

* * *

Mr Chairman,

The upcoming 60th anniversary of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights calls us, especially within this Third Committee, to continue the work of the framers of this Declaration to find means for improving the effective enjoyment of human rights and fundamental freedoms for all peoples.

Over the past sixty years, notable progress has been achieved in a number of areas. Yet, still today, individuals are unable to exercise even some of their most basic rights. At the center of these rights is the fundamental right to life, from the moment of conception to natural death. It continues to be violated under various pretexts and in all corners of the globe. Last year this Committee, for the first time, called for a moratorium on the use of the death penalty. This resolution marks a welcome step towards a fuller respect of the right to life, however, it is only the beginning of the necessary efforts which must be undertaken to create a society in which life is respected at all stages of development.

It is incumbent upon States to protect the lives of their citizens, however, greater renewal at all levels is needed to form a society in which the recognition of human dignity and human rights are at the core rather than a consequence of our policy decisions.

In this era of greater economic interconnectedness, effort must be made to ensure consistent focus on a human-centered approach to development. Around the world, millions of children lack access to the very ways and means which will assist them in shaping a better future for themselves and their community. The lack of access to basic healthcare, education, food, water and development prevents people from exercising their fundamental human rights.

The current global economic collapse highlights and will surely exacerbate the plight of the so-called “bottom billion”, a figure which due to the present aggravating conjuncture is on a constant rise. These persons will have their right to food impinged by the global food crisis. With the governmental spending focused upon fixing the financial meltdown, social sectors such as education and healthcare will be further downsized and underfinanced. While the economic crisis is presenting a number of challenges for the entire global community, as we begin to create measures to fix the economic collapse, we must not lose sight of those who live with little hope for a decent future. To this end, the report of the independent expert on human rights and extreme poverty rightly recognizes that in addressing the plight of the bottom billion, the realization of human rights and the elimination of extreme poverty are mutually reinforcing endeavors.

Finally, Mr Chairman, we take this opportunity to welcome the entry into force of the Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities inasmuch as it will enhance the dignity and rights of disabled people. It is my delegation’s hope that as States accede to this instrument, the fundamental right to life which stands at the heart of this Convention be respected and promoted for all people with disabilities at every stage of life. It is only then that this Convention can serve not only to promote greater respect for persons with disabilities but more importantly, to foster greater respect for all people regardless of their physical or mental ability.

Thank you Mr Chairman.

Zenit: Synod Presents 55 Propositions to Pope

Normally the propositions are not made public, but Benedict XVI has asked the secretariat of the synod to publish a provisional, non-official Italian translation.

From De Unione Ecclesiarum: St. Basil the Economist

Final Message of Word of God Synod

Final Message of Word of God Synod

"Let Us Approach the Table of the Word of God"

VATICAN CITY, OCT. 24, 2008 (Zenit.org).- Here is the concluding message of the 12th Ordinary General Assembly of the Synod of Bishops, which was approved today at the 21st general congregation.

The theme of the assembly was "The Word of God in the Life and Mission of the Church."

* * *

Brothers and sisters,

"May God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ grant peace, love and faith to all the brothers. May grace be with all who love our Lord Jesus Christ, in life imperishable". With this intense and passionate greeting, Saint Paul concluded his letter to the Christians of Ephesus (6:23-24). With these same words we, the Synod Fathers, gathered in Rome for the XII Ordinary General Assembly of the Synod of Bishops, under the guidance of the Holy Father Benedict XVI, open our message addressed to the vast horizon of all those who, in the various regions of the world, follow Christ as disciples, and continue to love him with an imperishable love.

We will again propose to them the voice and the light of the word of God, repeating the ancient call: "the word is very near to you, it is in your mouth and in your heart for you to put into practice" (Dt 30:14). And God himself will say to each one: "Son of man, take to heart everything I say to you, listen carefully" (Ezk 3:10). We are about to propose a spiritual journey consisting of four phases and that will carry us from all eternity and the infinite nature of God to our homes and the streets of our cities.

I. THE VOICE OF THE WORD: THE REVELATION

1. "Then the Lord spoke to you from the heart of the fire; you heard the sound of words but saw no shape; there was only a voice!" (Dt 4:12). It is Moses who speaks, evoking the experience lived by Israel in the bitter solitude of the Sinai desert. The Lord presented himself not as an image or an effigy or a statue similar to a golden calf, but with "a voice of words". It is a voice which entered the scene at the very beginning of creation, when it tore through the silence of nothingness: "In the beginning...God said, 'Let there be light,' and there was light...In the beginning was the Word: the Word was with God and the Word was God...Through him all things came into being, not one thing came into being except through him" (Gn 1:1.3; Jn 1:1.3).

Creation is not born of a battle of divinities, as taught by ancient Mesopotamian myths, but of a word which defeats nothingness and creates being. The Psalmist sings: "By the word of the Lord the heavens were made, by the breath of his mouth all their array...for, the moment he spoke, it was so, no sooner had he commanded, than there it stood" (Ps 33:6.9). And Saint Paul will repeat: God "brings the dead to life and calls into existence what does not yet exist" (Rm 4:17). Thus, a first "cosmic" revelation is found which makes creation similar to an immense page opened up before all of humanity, in which a message from the Creator can be read : "The heavens declare the glory of God, the vault of heaven proclaims his handiwork, day unto day makes known his message; night unto night hands on the knowledge. There is no speech or language where their voice is not heard. Their message goes out into all the earth" (Ps 19:2-5).

2. The divine word is, however, also at the origin of human history. Man and woman, whom God created "in the image of himself" (Gn 1:27), and who bear within themselves the divine imprint, can enter into dialogue with their Creator or can wander far from him and reject him away by sinning. The word of God, then, saves and judges, penetrating the woven fabric of history with its tales and events: "I have indeed seen the misery of my people in Egypt. I have heard them crying ... I am well aware of their sufferings. And I have come down to rescue them from the clutches of the Egyptians and bring them up out of that country, to a country rich and broad" (Ex 3:7-8). The divine is therefore present in human events which, through the action of the Lord of history, are inserted in the greater plan of salvation for "everyone to be saved and reach full knowledge of the truth" (1 Tm 2:4).

3. Consequently, the effective, creative and salvific divine word is source of being and of history, of creation and redemption. The Lord encounters humanity declaring: "I, the Lord, have spoken and done this" (Ezk 37:14). The voice of God then passes into the written word, the Graphé or the Graphaí, the Sacred Scriptures, as it is said in the New Testament. Moses had already descended from the mount of Sinai, "with the two tablets of the commandments in his hands, tablets inscribed on both sides, inscribed on the front and on the back. The tablets were the work of God, and the writing on them was God's writing" (Ex 32:15-16). Moses himself obliged Israel to preserve and rewrite these "tablets of the commandments": "On these stones you must write all the words of this Law very plainly" (Dt 27:8).

The Sacred Scriptures "bear witness" to the divine word in written form. They memorialize the creative and saving event of revelation by way of canonical, historical and literary means. Therefore, the word of God precedes and goes beyond the Bible which itself is "inspired by God" and contains the efficacious divine word (cf. 2 Tm 3:16). This is why our faith is not only centered on a book, but on a history of salvation and, as we will see, on a person, Jesus Christ, the Word of God made flesh, man and history. Precisely because the capacity of the divine word embraces and extends beyond the Scripture, the constant presence of the Holy Spirit that "will lead you to the complete truth" (Jn 16:13) is necessary for those who read the Bible. This is the great Tradition: the effective presence of the "Spirit of truth" in the Church, guardian of Sacred Scripture, which are authentically interpreted by the Church's Magisterium. This Tradition enables the Church to understand, interpret, communicate and bear witness to the word of God. Saint Paul himself, proclaiming the first Christian creed, will recognize the need to "transmit" what he "had received" from Tradition (1 Cor
15:3-5).

II. THE FACE OF THE WORD: JESUS CHRIST

4. In the original Greek, there are only three fundamental words: Lógos sarx eghéneto, "the Word was made flesh". And yet, this is the summit not only of that poetic and theological jewel which is the prologue to John's Gospel (Jn 1:14), but it is the actual heart of the Christian faith. The eternal and divine Word enters into space and time and takes on a human face and identity, so much so that it is possible to approach him directly asking, as did the group of Greeks present in Jerusalem: "We should like to see Jesus" (Jn 12:20-21). Words without a face are not perfect, they do not fully complete the encounter, as Job recalled, reaching the end of his dramatic itinerary of searching: "Before, I knew you only by hearsay but now"... I have "seen you with my own eyes" (Jb 42:5).

Christ is "the Word [that] was with God and the Word was God" (Jn 1:1). "He is the image of the unseen God, the first-born of all creation" (Col 1:15); but he is also Jesus of Nazareth who walks the roads of a marginal province of the Roman Empire, who speaks the local language, who reveals the traits of a people, the Jews, and its culture. Therefore the real Jesus Christ is fragile and mortal flesh; he is history and humanity, but he is also glory, divinity, mystery: he who revealed God to us, the God no one has ever seen (cf. Jn 1:18). The Son of God continues to be so even in the dead body placed in the sepulcher and the resurrection is the living and clear proof to this fact.

5. Christian tradition has often placed the Divine Word made flesh on a parallel with the same word made book. This is what emerges already in the creed when one professes that the Son of God "was incarnate by the Holy Spirit of the Virgin Mary, and was made man", but also a profession of faith in the same "Holy Spirit, who spoke through the Prophets". The Second Vatican Council gathers this ancient tradition according to which "the body of the Son is the Scripture transmitted to us" - as Saint Ambrose affirms (In Lucam VI, 33) - and clearly declares: "For the words of God, expressed in human language, have been made like human discourse, just as the Word of the eternal Father, when he took to himself the flesh of human weakness, was in every way made like men" (DV 13).

Indeed, the Bible is also "flesh", "letter"; it expresses itself in particular languages, in literary and historical forms, in concepts tied to an ancient culture, it preserves the memories of events, often tragic; its pages not infrequently are marked by blood and violence, within it resounds the laughter of humanity and the flowing tears, as well as the cry of the distressed and the joy of those in love. For this, its "bodily" dimension requires an historical and literary analysis, which occurs through various methods and approaches offered by Biblical exegesis. Every reader of Sacred Scripture, even the most simple, must have a proportionate knowledge of the sacred text, recalling that the word is enveloped in concrete words, which is shaped and adapted to make it heard and understood by all of humanity.

This is a necessary commitment. If it is excluded, one could fall into fundamentalism which in practice denies the Incarnation of the divine Word in history, does not recognize that this word expresses itself in the Bible according to a human language, that must be decoded, studied and understood. Such an attitude ignores that divine inspiration did not erase the historical identities and personalities of its human authors. The Bible, however, is also the eternal and divine Word and for this reason requires another understanding, given by the Holy Spirit who unveils the transcendent dimension of the divine word, present in human words.

6. Here, thus, lies the necessity of the "living Tradition of all the Church" (DV 12) and of the faith to understand Sacred Scripture in a full and unified way. Should one focus only on the "letter", the Bible is only a solemn document of the past, a noble, ethical and cultural witness. If, however, the Incarnation is excluded, it could fall into a fundamentalist equivocation or a vague spiritualism or pop-psychology. Exegetical knowledge must, therefore, weave itself indissolubly with spiritual and theological tradition so that the divine and human unity of Jesus Christ and Scripture is not broken.

In this rediscovered harmony, the face of Christ will shine in its fullness and will help us to discover another unity, that profound and intimate unity of Sacred Scriptures. There are, indeed, 73 books, but they form only one "Canon", in one dialogue between God and humanity, in one plan of salvation. "At many moments in the past and by many means, God spoke to our ancestors through the prophets; but in our time, the final days, he has spoken to us in the person of his Son" (Hb 1:1-2). Christ thus retrospectively sheds his light on the entire development of salvation history and reveals its coherence, meaning, and direction.

He is the seal, "the Alpha and the Omega" (Rev 1:8) of a dialogue between God and his creatures distributed over time and attested to in the Bible. It is in the light of this final seal that the words of Moses and the prophets acquire their "full sense". Jesus himself had indicated this on that spring afternoon, while he made his way from Jerusalem to the town of Emmaus, dialoguing with Cleopas and his friend, explaining "to them the passages in the Scriptures that were about himself" (Lk 24:27).

That the divine Word has put on a face is at the center of Revelation. That is precisely why the ultimate finality of biblical knowledge is "not the result of an ethical choice or a lofty idea, but the encounter with an event, a person, which gives life a new horizon and a decisive direction" (Deus caritas est, 1).

III. THE HOUSE OF THE WORD: THE CHURCH

Just as divine wisdom in the Old Testament made her house in the cities of men and women, supporting it with seven pillars (cf. Pr 9:1), thus also the word of God made its house in the New Testament. The Church has as her model the mother community of Jerusalem. The Church is founded on Peter and the apostles and today, through the bishops in communion with the Successor of Peter, continues to keep, announce and interpret the word of God (cf. LG 13). In the Acts of the Apostles (2:42), Luke traces its architecture based on four ideal pillars which today are still witnessed to by the different forms of ecclesial communities: "These remained faithful to the teaching of the apostles, to the brotherhood, to the breaking of bread and to the prayers".

7. Here, first of all, is the apostolic didaché, that is to say the preaching of the word of God. The Apostle Paul, in fact, warns us that "faith comes from hearing, and what is heard comes through the word of Christ" (Rm 10:17). The voice of the herald comes from the Church, which proposes kérygma, that is to say, the primary and fundamental announcement that Jesus himself had proclaimed at the beginning of his public ministry: "The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is close at hand. Repent and believe the gospel" (Mk 1:15). The apostles, proclaiming the death and resurrection of Christ, announce the unveiling of the kingdom of God, that is to say, the decisive divine intervention in the history of man: "Only in him is there salvation; for of all the names in the world given to men, this is the only one by which we can be saved" (Ac 4:12). The Christian bears witness to this hope "with courtesy and respect and with a clear conscience", ready, however, to be involved and, perhaps, to be overwhelmed by the storms of refusal and persecution, knowing that "it is better to suffer doing right then for doing wrong" (1 P 3:16-17).

The catechesis, then, resounds in the Church: this is destined to deepen in the Christian "the understanding of the mystery of Christ in the light of God's word, so that the whole of a person's humanity is impregnated by that word" in Christianity (John Paul II, Catechesi tradendae, 20). But the high point of preaching is in the homily which, for many Christians, is still today the central moment of encounter with the word of God. In this act, the minister should be transformed into a prophet as well. He, in fact, with a clear, incisive and substantial language must not only proclaim with authority "God's wonderful works in the history of salvation" (SC 35) - offered first by a clear and vivid reading of the biblical text proposed in the liturgy - but he must also act upon it in the times and moments lived by the hearers and make the question of conversion and vital commitment blossom in their hearts: "What are we to do, brothers?" (Ac 2:37).

Preaching, catechesis and the homily therefore presuppose a reading and understanding, an explaining and interpreting, an involvement of the mind and of the heart. Thus in preaching a dual movement is achieved. With the first, one goes back to the roots of the sacred texts, the events, the first words of the history of salvation, to understand them in their meaning and in their message. With the second movement, one returns to the present, to the today lived by those who hear and read, always with Christ in mind, who is the guiding light destined to unite the Scriptures. This is what Jesus himself did - as has already been said - in his journey to Jerusalem in Emmaus with two of his disciples. This is what the deacon Phillip would do on the way from Jerusalem to Gaza, when he spoke this emblematic dialogue with the Ethiopian official: "Do you understand what you are reading? ... How could I, unless I have someone to guide me?" (Ac 8:30-31). And the finality will be the full encounter with Christ in the sacrament. This is how the second pillar that supports the Church, the house of the divine word, presents itself.

8. It is the breaking of the bread. The scene at Emmaus (cf. Lk 24:13-35) is once again exemplary, and reproduces what happens every day in our churches: the homily by Jesus about Moses and the prophets gives way to the breaking of the Eucharistic Bread at the table. This is the moment of God's personal dialogue with His people. It is the act of the new covenant sealed in the blood of Christ (cf. Lk 22:20). It is the supreme work of the Word who offers himself as food in his immolated body, it is the source and summit of the life and mission of the Church. The Gospel account of the Last Supper, the memorial of Christ's sacrifice, when proclaimed in the eucharistic celebration, through the invocation of the Holy Spirit, becomes event and sacrament. This is why the Second Vatican Council, in a very intense passage, declared: "The Church has always venerated the divine Scriptures just as she venerates the body of the Lord, since, especially in the sacred liturgy, she unceasingly receives and offers to the faithful the bread of life from the table both of God's word and of Christ's body" (DV 21). Therefore, "the liturgy of the word and the eucharistic liturgy, are so closely connected with each other that they form but one single act of worship" (SC 56), and this must be brought back to the center of Christian life.

9. The third pillar of the spiritual building of the Church, the house of the word, is made up of prayers, woven from - as recalled by Saint Paul - "psalms and hymns and inspired songs" (Col 3: 16). A privileged place is naturally taken by the Liturgy of the Hours, the prayer of the Church par excellence, destined to give rhythm to the days and times of the Christian year, offering, above all with the Psalmody, the daily spiritual food of the faithful. Alongside this and the community celebrations of the word, tradition has introduced the practice of Lectio divina, the prayerful reading in the Holy Spirit that is able to open to the faithful the treasure of the word of God, and also to create the encounter with Christ, the living divine Word.

This begins with the reading (lectio) of the text, which provokes the question of true knowledge of its real content: what does the biblical text say in itself? Then follows meditation (meditatio) where the question is: what does the Biblical text say to us? In this manner, one arrives at prayer (oratio), which presupposes this other question: what do we say to the Lord in answer to his word? And one ends with contemplation (contemplatio) during which we assume, as God's gift, the same gaze in judging reality and ask ourselves: what conversion of the mind, the heart and life does the Lord ask of us?

Before the prayerful reader of the word of God rises ideally the figure of Mary, the Mother of the Lord, who "treasured all these things and pondered them in her heart" (Lk 2:19; cf. 2:51), that is - as the original Greek says - finding the profound knot that unites apparently distinct events, acts and things in the great divine plan. The attitude of Mary, the sister of Martha can also be proposed to the faithful, when they read the Bible, because she sits at the feet of the Lord listening to his word, not allowing external concerns to absorb her soul completely, allowing even the free time for "the better part" which must not be taken away (cf. Lk 10:38-42).

10. Finally, we reach the last pillar that supports the Church, the house of the word: the koinonía, brotherly love, another name for the agápe, that is to say, Christian love. As Jesus mentioned, to become his brothers and his sisters one must be like "those who hear the word of God and put it into practice" (Lk 8:21). Authentic hearing is obeying and acting. It means making justice and love blossom in life. It is offering, in life and in society, a witness like the call of the prophets, which continuously united the word of God and life, faith and rectitude, worship and social commitment. This is what Jesus stated many times, beginning with the famous warning in the Sermon on the Mount: "It is not anyone who says to me, 'Lord, Lord', who will enter the kingdom of Heaven, but the person who does the will of my Father in heaven" (Mt 7:21). This phrase seems to echo the divine word proposed by Isaiah: "this people approaches me only in words, honors me only with lip-service, while their hearts are far from me" (29:13). These warnings also concern the churches when they are not faithful to the obedient hearing of the word of God.

Therefore this must already be visible and legible on the face and in the hands of the faithful, as suggested by Saint Gregory the Great who saw in Saint Benedict, and in other great men of God, witnesses of communion with God and with the sisters and brothers, the word of God come to life. The just and faithful man not only "explains" the Scriptures, but also "unfolds" them before all as a living and practiced reality. This is why viva lectio, vita bonorum, the life of the good is a living lecture/lesson of the word of God. Saint John Chrysostom had already observed that the apostles came down from the mount in Galilee, where they had met the risen Lord, without any written stone tablets as Moses had: their lives would become the living gospel, from that moment on.

In the house of the word we also encounter brothers and sisters from other Churches and ecclesial communities who, even with the still existing separations, find themselves with us in the veneration and love for the word of God, the principle and source of a first and real unity, even if not a full unity. This bond must always be reinforced through the common biblical translations, the spreading of the sacred text, ecumenical biblical prayer, exegetical dialogue, the study and the comparison between the various interpretations of the Holy Scriptures, the exchange of values inherent in the various spiritual traditions and the announcement and the common witness of the word of God in a secularized world.

IV. THE ROADS OF THE WORD: THE MISSION

"For the Law will go forth from Zion and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem" (Is 2:3). The embodied Word of God "issues from" his house, the temple, and walks along the roads of the world to encounter the great pilgrimage that the people of earth have taken up in search of truth, justice and peace. In fact, even in the modern secularized city, in its squares and in its streets - where disbelief and indifference seem to reign, where evil seems to prevail over good, creating the impression of a victory of Babylon over Jerusalem - one can find a hidden yearning, a germinating hope, a quiver of expectation. As can be read in the book of the prophet Amos, "The days are coming, declares the Lord God, when I shall send a famine on the country: not hunger for food, not thirst for water, but famine for hearing the word of the Lord" (8:11). The evangelizing mission of the Church wants to answer this hunger.

Even the risen Christ makes an appeal to the hesitant apostles, to go forth from their protected horizon: "Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations…and teach them to observe the commands I gave you" (Mt 28:19-20). The Bible is fraught with appeals "not to be silent", to "speak out", to "proclaim the word at the right and at the wrong time", to be the sentinels that tear away the silence of indifference. The roads that open before us are not only the ones upon which Saint Paul and the first evangelizers traveled but are also the ones of all the missionaries who, after them, go towards the people in faraway lands.

11. Communication now casts a network that envelops the entire globe and the call of Christ gains a new meaning: "What I say to you in the dark, tell in the daylight, what you hear in whispers, proclaim from the housetops" (Mt 10:27). Of course, the sacred word must have its primary transparency and diffusion through the printed text, with translations made according to the multiplicity of languages on our planet. But the voice of the divine word must echo even through the radio, the information highway of the internet, the channels of "on line" virtual circulation, CDs, DVDs, podcasts, etc. It must appear on all television and movie screens, in the press, and in cultural and social events.

This new communication, in relationship to the traditional one, has created its own specific and expressive grammar and, therefore, makes it necessary not only to be technically prepared, but also culturally prepared for this task. In an age dominated by images put forward, in particular, by hegemonic means of communication such as television, the privileged model of Christ is still meaningful and evocative today. He would turn to the sign, the story, the example, the daily experience, the parable: "He told them many things in parables ... indeed, he would never speak to them except in parables" (Mt 13:3.34). In proclaiming the kingdom of God, Jesus never spoke over the heads of the people with a vague, abstract or ethereal language. Rather, he would conquer them by starting there where their feet were placed, in order to lead them, through daily events, to the revelation of the kingdom of heaven. Thus, the scene evoked by John becomes significant: "Some wanted to arrest him, but no one actually laid a hand on him. The guards went back to the chief priests and Pharisees who said to them, 'Why haven't you brought him?' The guards replied, 'No one has ever spoken like this man'"(7:44-46).

12. Christ proceeds along the streets of our cities and stops at the doorstep of our homes: "Look, I am standing at the door, knocking. If one of you hears me calling and opens the door, I will come in to share a meal at that person's side" (Rev 3:20). The family, enclosed between the domestic walls with its joys and sufferings, is a fundamental space where the word of God is to be allowed to enter. The Bible is full of small and great family stories, and the Psalmist depicts with liveliness the serene picture of a father sitting at the table, surrounded by his wife, like a fruitful vine, and by his children, "shoots of an olive tree" (Ps 128). In the same way, Christianity itself, from its origins, celebrated the liturgy in the daily home life, just as Israel entrusted the Passover celebration to the family (cf. Ex 12:21-27). The spreading of the word of God is passed on through the generations so that parents become "the first preachers of the faith" (LG 11). Once more the Psalmist recalled that: "What we have heard and know, what our ancestors have told us, we shall not conceal from their descendants, but will tell to a generation still to come: the praises of the Lord, his power, the wonderful deeds he has done ... They should be sure to tell their own children" (Ps 78:3-4.6).

Therefore, every home should have its own Bible and safeguard it in a visible and dignified way, to read it and to pray with it, while, at the same time, the family should propose forms and models of a prayerful, catechetical and didactic education on how to use the Scriptures, so that "young men and women, old people and children together" (Ps 148:12) may hear, understand, glorify and live the word of God. In particular, the new generations, children and youth, should be the ones receiving an appropriate and specific pedagogy that leads them to experience the fascination of the figure of Christ, opening the door of their mind and their heart, as well as through the encounter with and authentic witness of adults, the positive influence of friends and the great company of the ecclesial community.

13. Jesus, in his parable of the sower, reminds us that there are arid lands, full of rocks, choked by thorns (cf. Mt 13:3-7). He who goes forth into the streets of the world also discovers the slums where suffering and poverty, humiliation and oppression, marginalization and misery, physical and psychological ills and loneliness can be found. Often the stones on the road are bloody because of wars and violence; in the palaces of power, corruption meets injustice. The voices of the persecuted rise on behalf of faithfulness to their conscience and fidelity to their faith.

There is the one who is swept away by the crises of life, or whose soul is devoid of any meaning that would give sense and value to life itself. Like "phantoms who go their way, mere vapor their pursuits" (Ps 39:7), many feel the silence of God, his apparent absence and indifference, hanging over them: "How long, Lord, will you forget me? For ever? How long will you turn away your face from me?" (Ps 13:1). And, in the end, there arises for everyone, the mystery of death.

This immense sigh of suffering that rises from the earth to heaven is continuously represented by the Bible, which proposes an historical and incarnated faith. It is enough to think only of the pages marked by violence and oppression, of the harsh and continuous cry of Job, of the vehement pleas of the Psalms, of the subtle internal crisis that passes through the soul of Qoheleth, of the vigorous prophetic denunciations against social injustice. Without extenuating circumstances, then, is the sentence of the radical sin that appears in all its devastating force, from the beginning of humanity in a fundamental text of the Genesis (chapter 3). In fact, the "mystery of iniquity" is present and acts in history, but it is revealed by the word of God that assures the victory of good over evil, in Christ.

But above all in the Scriptures, the figure of Christ, who begins his public ministry with a proclamation of hope for the last persons of the earth, dominates: "The spirit of the Lord is upon me, for he has anointed me to bring the good news to the afflicted. He has sent me to proclaim liberty to captives, sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim a year of favour from the Lord" (Lk 4:18-19). He repeatedly places his hands on ill and diseased flesh. His words proclaim justice, instill courage to the disheartened and offer forgiveness to sinners. Finally, he himself approaches the lowest level, "he emptied himself" of his glory , "taking the form of a slave, becoming as human beings are; and being in every way like a human being, he was humbler yet, even to accepting death, death on a cross" (Phil 2:7-8).

In this way he feels the fear of death ("‛Father', he said, ‛if you are willing, take this cup away from me'"), He experiences loneliness because of the abandonment and betrayal by friends, he penetrates the darkness of the cruelest physical pain through his crucifixion and even the darkness of the Father's silence ("My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?") (Mk 15:34) and reaches the last abyss of any man, that of death ("he gave a loud cry and breathed his last"). To him, the definition that Isaiah gave to the servant of the Lord truly can be applied: "the lowest of men, a man of sorrows" (53:3).

Even so, he also in that extreme moment, does not cease being the Son of God: in his solidarity of love and with the sacrifice of himself, He sows a seed of divinity in the limit and frailty of humanity, in other words, a principle of freedom and salvation. With his offering of himself to us he pours out redemption on pain and death, assumed and lived by him, and also opens to us the dawn of resurrection. Therefore the Christian has the mission to announce this divine word of hope, by sharing with the poor and the suffering, through the witness of his faith in the kingdom of truth and life, of holiness and grace, of justice, of love and peace, through the loving closeness that neither judges nor condemns, but that sustains, illuminates, comforts and forgives, following the words of Christ: "Come to me, all you who labour and are overburdened, and I will give you rest" (Mt 11:28).

14. Along the roads of the world, the divine word generates for us Christians an equally intense encounter with the Jewish people, who are intimately bound through the common recognition and love for the Scripture of the Old Testament and because from Israel "so far as physical descent is concerned, came Christ" (Rm 9:5). Every page of the Jewish Scriptures enlighten the mystery of God and of man. They are treasures of reflection and morality, an outline of the long itinerary of the history of salvation to its integral fulfillment, and illustrate with vigor the incarnation of the divine word in human events. They allow us to fully understand the figure of Christ, who declared "Do not imagine that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets. I have come not to abolish but to fulfill them" (Mt 5:17).

These are a way of dialogue with the chosen people, "who were adopted as children, the glory was theirs and the covenants; to them were given the Law and the worship of God and the promises" (Rm 9:4), and they allow us to enrich our interpretation of the Sacred Scriptures with the fruitful resources of the Hebrew exegetical tradition.

"Blessed be my people Egypt, Assyria my creation, and Israel my heritage" (Is 19:25). The Lord, then, spreads the protective mantle of his blessing all over the peoples of the earth: "he wants everyone to be saved and reach full knowledge of the truth" (1 Tm 2:4). We, also as Christians are invited, along the roads of the world - without falling into a syncretism that confuses and humiliates our own spiritual identity, to enter into dialogue with respect towards men and women of the other religions, who faithfully hear and practice the directives of their sacred books, starting with Islam, which welcomes many biblical figures, symbols and themes in its tradition, and which offers the witness of sincere faith in the One, compassionate and merciful God, the Creator of all beings and Judge of humanity.
The Christian also finds common harmony with the great religious traditions of the Orient that teach us, in their Scriptures, respect for life, contemplation, silence, simplicity, renunciation, as occurs in Buddhism. Or, like in Hinduism, they exalt the sense of the sacred, sacrifice, pilgrimage, fasting, and sacred symbols. Or, as in Confucianism, they teach wisdom and family and social values. Even to the traditional religions with their spiritual values expressed in the rites and oral cultures, we would like to pay our cordial attention and engage in a respectful dialogue with them. Also to those who do not believe in God but who endeavour to "do what is right, to love goodness and to walk humbly" (Mi 6:8), we must work with them for a more just and peaceful world, and offer in dialogue our genuine witness to the Word of God that can reveal to them new and higher horizons of truth and love.

15. In his Letter to the Artists (1999), John Paul II recalled that "Sacred Scripture has thus become a sort of ‛immense vocabulary' (Paul Claudel) and ‛iconographic atlas' (Marc Chagall), from which both Christian culture and art have drawn" (No. 5). Goethe was convinced that the Gospel was the "mother tongue of Europe". The Bible, as it is commonly said, is "the great code" of universal culture: artists ideally dipped their paintbrush in that alphabet coloured by stories, symbols, and figures which are the biblical pages. Musicians composed their harmonies around the sacred texts, especially the Psalms. For centuries authors went back to those old stories that became existential parables; poets asked themselves about the mystery of the spirit, infinity, evil, love, death and life, frequently collecting poetical quivers that enlivened the biblical pages. Thinkers, men of learning and society itself frequently used the spiritual and ethical concepts (for example the Decalogue) of the word of God as a reference, even if merely in contrast. Even when the figure or the idea present in the Scriptures was deformed, it was recognized as being an essential and constitutive element of our civilization.
Because of this, the Bible - which teaches us also the via pulchritudinis, that is to say, the path of beauty to understand and reach God (as Ps 47:7 invites us: "learn the music, let it sound for God!") - is necessary not only for the believer, but for all to rediscover the authentic meanings of various cultural expressions and above all to find our historical, civil, human and spiritual identity once again. This is the origin of our greatness and through it we can present ourselves with our noble heritage to other civilizations and cultures, without any inferiority complex. The Bible should, therefore, be known and studied by all, under this extraordinary profile of beauty and human and cultural fruitfulness.

Nevertheless, the word of God - using a meaningful Pauline image – "cannot be chained up" (2 Tm 2:9) to a culture; on the contrary, it aspires to cross borders and the Apostle himself was an exceptional craftsman of inculturation of the biblical message into new cultural references. This is what the Church is called upon to perform even today through a delicate but necessary process, which received a strong impulse from the Magisterium of Pope Benedict XVI. She should make the word of God penetrate into the many cultures and express it according to their languages, their concepts, their symbols and their religious traditions. But she should always be able to maintain the genuine substance of its contents, watching over and controlling the risks of degeneration.

Therefore the Church must make the values that the word of God offers to all cultures shine, so they may be purified and fruitful. As John Paul II said to the Bishops of Kenya during his trip to Africa in 1980, "inculturation will truly be a reflection of the Incarnation of the Word, when a culture, transformed and regenerated by the gospel, brings forth from its own living tradition original expressions of Christian life, celebration and thought".

CONCLUSION

"Then I heard the voice I had heard from heaven speaking to me again. ‛Go', it said, ‛and take that open scroll from the hand of the angel standing on sea and land'. I went to the angel and asked him to give me the small scroll, and he said, ‛Take it and eat it; it will turn your stomach sour, but it will taste as sweet as honey'. So I took it out of the angel's hand, and I ate it and it tasted sweet as honey, but when I had eaten it my stomach turned sour" (Rev 10:8-11).

Brothers and sisters of the whole world, let us receive this invitation; let us approach the table of the word of God, so as to be nourished and live "not on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of God" (Dt 8:3; Mt 4:4). Sacred Scripture - as affirmed by a great figure of the Christian culture – "has provided passages of consolation and of warning for all conditions" (B. Pascal, Pensées, no. 532 ed. Brunschvicg).

The word of God, in fact, is "sweeter than honey, that drips from the comb" (Ps 19:10), "Your word is a lamp for my feet, a light on my path" (Ps 119:105), but is also: "like fire, says the Lord, like a hammer shattering a rock" (Jer 23:29). It is like the rain that irrigates the earth, fertilizes it and makes it spring forth, and in doing this he makes the aridity of our spiritual deserts flourish (cf. Is 55:10-11). But it is also: "something alive and active: it cuts more incisively than any two-edged sword: it can seek out the place where soul is divided from spirit, or joints from marrow; it can pass judgment on secret emotions and thoughts" (Heb 4:12).

Our gaze is turned lovingly towards all those engaged in study, catechists and the other servants of the word of God to express our most intense and cordial gratitude for their precious and important ministry. We also address our persecuted brothers and sisters or those who are put to death because of the word of God and because of the witness they render to the Lord Jesus (cf. Rev 6:9): as witnesses and martyrs they tell us of "the power of the word" (Rm 1:16), origin of their faith, of their hope and of their love for God and for men.
Let us now remain silent, to hear the word of God with effectiveness and let us maintain this silence after hearing, so that it may continue to dwell in us, to live in us, and to speak to us. Let it resonate at the beginning of our day so that God has the first word and let it echo in us in the evening so that God has the last word.
Dear brothers and sisters, "All those who are with me send their greetings. Greetings to those who love us in the faith. Grace be with you all!" (Tt 3:15).

[Original text: Italian]

Zenit: Archbishop Migliore on Rule of Law

Archbishop Migliore on Rule of Law

"Insufficient by Itself to Defend the Dignity of the Human Person"

NEW YORK, OCT. 21, 2008 (Zenit.org).- Here is the address delivered Oct. 14 by Archbishop Celestino Migliore, permanent observer of the Holy See to the United Nations, at the 63rd U.N. General Assembly.

* * *

Mr. Chairman,

At the outset, I would like to thank the Secretary-General for his comprehensive inventory of rule of law initiatives being undertaken at the United Nations. Clearly, the rule of law has grown in importance as a vital pillar for greater international development.

At its core, the rule of law is the mechanism by which the international organizations and national governments are called to provide effective recognition of the dignity of all persons regardless of their social, economic, or political status.

In the present cultural context, in which law is often perceived as respect for formal procedures and not in more substantive terms, the rule of law could become insufficient by itself to defend the dignity of the human person. The rights of persons are not simply a set of legal norms but represent, above all, fundamental values. Such values must be fostered by society, otherwise they risk disappearing even from legislative texts. The dignity of persons must be safeguarded in culture, in the public mentality and in the conduct of society, as a precondition and in order to be protected by law.

Although the rule of law is not in itself sufficient, it remains nevertheless an indispensable instrument for the protection of human dignity. The notion of the rule of law is implied as a demand of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR) and assigns to States the task of allowing and facilitating the realization of those transcendent ends to which people are destined. In this regard, the UDHR, which is currently in its sixtieth year, is a reference point that calls all nations to organize the relationship of persons and society with the State based on the fundamental human rights.

The rule of law is a vital component for assisting States in their responsibility to protect. While this responsibility entails the States' primary and legal obligation to protect their populations from genocide, war crimes, ethnic cleansing and crimes against humanity, it also provides for the international community to intervene when a State is unable or unwilling to exercise this fundamental responsibility. This capacity to intervene should not be seen, however, only in the form of actions taken by the Security Council or use of force. It is also the cooperation of the international community to help States with the necessary capacity and legal expertise in the field of protection. The building up of national legal structures will help States to avert atrocities by establishing mechanisms that promote justice and peace, ensure accountability and recourse under the law, provide for the foundation of a stable economy and protect the dignity of every person.

Too often the concept of the rule of law is applied solely to political or legal matters in the context of post-conflict settings. The current economic crisis, however, shows that a strong rule of law could be very helpful in the promotion of fair and stable economic development. The interconnected nature of the global market has increased the need for debate on and implementation of the rule of law, so as to establish a more just global economic system. In the developing world, the rule of law can provide social and economic growth while in the developed world, through just regulations, it can ensure greater economic stability and fairness.

Through the work of the Rule of Law Coordination and Resource Group and the Rule of Law Unit, the United Nations has been given the responsibility for assisting States needing technical and logistical expertise. We look forward to their capacities being enhanced in this respect. In addition, this very Committee offers a platform for setting normative frameworks, means for arbitration of legal disputes and mechanisms of accountability.

One area in which the United Nations serves as a forum for enhancing the rule of law is in the making of international treaties and conventions. Indeed, it has been the ability of the United Nations to bring people together and give greater attention to international norms. Hence, it is of great importance that when implementing and enforcing these norms, the United Nations' agencies and monitoring bodies respect the intent and desire of States. A treaty body system which moves away from the original intent of the parties and expands its mandates beyond the power given by States, risks undermining its own credibility and legitimacy and can discourage States from joining conventions.

The United Nations will be appreciated in its own right whenever the rule of law is translated from discussions of norms and values into tangible results for those who seek justice.

Thank you, Mr. Chairman.

Zenit: Benedict XVI's Address to Synod

Benedict XVI's Address to Synod

"Dualism Between Exegesis and Theology Must Be Overcome"

VATICAN CITY, OCT. 19, 2008 (Zenit.org).- Here is the intervention Benedict XVI gave Tuesday during the 14th general congregation of the world Synod of Bishops, which is under way in the Vatican through Oct. 26. The theme of the assembly is on "The Word of God in the Life and Mission of the Church."

* * *

Dear Brothers and Sisters, the work for my book on Jesus offers ample occasion to see all the good that can come from modern exegesis, but also to recognize the problems and risks in it. Dei Verbum 12 offers two methodological indications for suitable exegetic work. In the first place, it confirms the need to use the historical-critical method, briefly describing the essential elements. This need is the consequence of the Christian principle formulated in Jn 1:14 "Verbum caro factum est." The historical fact is a constitutive dimension of Christian faith. The history of salvation is not a myth, but a true story and therefore to be studied with the same methods as serious historical research.
However, this history has another dimension, that of divine action. Because of this, "Dei Verbum" mentions a second methodological level necessary for the correct interpretation of the words, which are at the same time human words and divine Word.

The Council says, following a fundamental rule for any interpretation of a literary text, that Scripture must be interpreted in the same spirit in which it was written and thereby indicates three fundamental methodological elements to bear in mind the divine dimension, the pneumatology of the Bible: one must, that is 1) interpret the text bearing in mind the unity of the entire Scripture; today this is called canonical exegesis; at the time of the Council this term had not been created, but the Council says the same thing: one must bear in mind the unity of all of Scripture; 2) one must then bear in mind the living tradition of the whole Church, and finally 3) observe the analogy of faith. Only where the two methodological levels, the historical-critical and the theological one, are observed, can one speak about theological exegesis -- of an exegesis suitable for this Book. While the first level today's academic exegesis works on a very high level and truly gives us help, the same cannot be said about the other level. Often this second level, the level constituted of the three theological elements indicated by Dei Verbum seems to be almost absent. And this has rather serious consequences.

The first consequence of the absence of this second methodological level is that the Bible becomes a book only about the past. Moral consequences can be drawn from it, one can learn about history, but the Book only speaks about the past and its exegesis is no longer truly theological, becoming historiography, the history of literature. This is the first consequence: the Bible remains in the past, speaks only of the past. There is also a second even more serious consequence: where the hermeneutics of faith, indicated by Dei Verbum, disappear, another type of hermeneutics appears of necessity, a secularized, positivistic hermeneutics, whose fundamental key is the certitude that the Divine does not appear in human history. According to this hermeneutic, when there seems to be a divine element, one must explain where it came from and bring it to the human element completely.

Because of this, interpretations that deny the historicity of divine elements emerge. Today, the so-called mainstream of exegesis in Germany denies, for example, that the Lord instituted the Holy Eucharist and says that Jesus' corpse stayed in the tomb. The Resurrection would not be an historical event, but a theological vision. This occurs because the hermeneutic of faith is missing: therefore a profane philosophical hermeneutic is stated, which denies the possibility of entering and of the real presence of the Divine in history. The consequence of the absence of the second methodological level is that a deep chasm was created between scientific exegesis and lectio divina. This, at times, gives rise to a form of perplexity even in the preparation of homilies. Where exegesis is not theology, Scripture cannot be the soul of theology and, vice versa, when theology is not essentially the interpretation of the Scripture in the Church, this theology has no foundation anymore.

Therefore for the life and the mission of the Church, for the future of faith, this dualism between exegesis and theology must be overcome. Biblical theology and systematic theology are two dimensions of the one reality, what we call Theology. Due to this, I would hope that in one of the propositions the need to bear in mind the two methodological levels indicated in Dei Verbum 12 be mentioned, where the need to develop an exegesis not only on the historical level, but also on the theological level is needed. Therefore, widening the formation of future exegetes in this sense is necessary, to truly open the treasures of the Scripture to today's world and to all of us.

[Translation by the secretariat of the Synod of Bishops]

© Copyright 2008 - Libreria Editrice Vaticana

2 from Magister

"Interpretations are proposed that deny the real presence of God in history..."

The complete transcript of the popes address to the synod of bishops on "The Word of God in the life and mission of the Church," on the morning of Tuesday, October 14, 2008

The Synod Wants Better Homilies. With the Pope as the Model

The synod fathers are proposing a "manual" to elevate the quality of preaching. But the living example is Benedict XVI. Here is the unscripted meditation with which he opened the working sessions, while stock markets were collapsing around the world

Volcanoes may be original womb of life

Sister Butler at Symposium on Consecrated Life


"Apostolic Religious Life: A Public, Ecclesial Vocation"



NORTH EASTON, Massachusetts, OCT. 14, 2008 (Zenit.org).- Here is the address Sister Sara Butler, a member of the Missionary Servants of the Most Blessed Trinity and a professor of dogmatic theology at St. Joseph's Seminary in New York, gave at the Stonehill College symposium on "Apostolic Religious Life Since Vatican II ... Reclaiming the Treasure: Bishops, Theologians, and Religious in Conversation."

The Diocese of Fall River hosted the Sept. 27 event.

* * *

Religious life belongs unquestionably to the life and holiness of the Church, although it is a "charismatic" rather than a "structural" element; one could even say it is an essential expression of that holiness. It is a gift by which God the Father through the Holy Spirit animates and refreshes the Church with an outpouring of grace that calls forth communities distinguished by their courageous faith, steadfast hope, and passionate love for Jesus Christ and the world he came to save. Consecrated religious have a place in the heart of the Church because, by leaving all to follow Christ, they announce with their whole lives that God has made us for himself and our hearts are restless until they rest in him.

We who accept the vocation to religious life make profession of the poverty, chastity, and obedience of Jesus Christ "freely, willingly, and purely for the love of God." In fact, our freedom must be assured; our vows are invalid if we have been subject to any alien pressure. We ask to be admitted to public vows in response to a deep personal experience of being loved and chosen, and in the light of a strong attraction to the charism of a particular institute. This impulse to "sell everything" to buy the field in which we have found the "treasure" (Matthew 13:44) is from the Holy Spirit. If our request is accepted, we commit ourselves to observe the evangelical counsels, to live in community, and to carry out a particular mission in the name of the Church -- according to the charism and constitution of our institute. Because our witness arises from a free personal gift of self, lived according to a way of holiness approved by the Church, it possesses moral authority -- the kind of authority, in fact, that is indispensable for transmitting the faith and accomplishing the Church's mission.

We are here to reflect on our vocation. Most of us are aware that all is not well, that something has been lost and must be reclaimed. What is this "treasure" that needs to be reclaimed? The problem is not only that so few are joining our ranks. It is that the current polarization and division in the Church at large is found among us as well. It exists in the uneasy and even fractured relationships among our apostolic institutes, within many of our institutes, and -- for many -- in the relationships of religious with the diocesan clergy, the bishops, and the Holy See. The reality of this polarization is more than regrettable; it is a cause of scandal, a counter-sign. Our way of life was born from the ardent desire to reproduce the apostolic ideal in which "the company of those who believed was of one heart and one soul,...had everything in common, [and] devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of the bread and the prayers" (Acts 4:35; 2:42).

New communities of apostolic men and women religious seem able to offer this witness. They are attracting vocations, and for this we can all rejoice. Some traditional institutes that made few changes or made them very gradually, and some of the younger institutes that had fewer changes to make, are likewise still welcoming new members. But many communities that were flourishing before the Council are now floundering and dying, despite the evident good will and generosity of most individual religious. We experience a decline in numbers and a rise in median age but also a malaise, an uncertainty about the future. Many are stymied by indecision. They may soldier on, hoping and praying for new members, but they are unable, or perhaps simply afraid to evaluate how their own choices and attitudes affect their situation. Some long to "reclaim the treasure," but meet with inertia or resistance from other members of their institutes and cannot get enough traction to initiate a change of direction. Others are convinced that apostolic religious life as we have known it not only will die, but that it deserves to die. They anticipate a future on the margins of the "institutional Church." Some are "sojourners," already so far out on the "margins" that they expect to leave Jesus Christ and his Church behind for the sake of a new, universal spirituality.

Are apostolic women and men religious doomed to remain divided into factions -- liberals and conservatives, women and men, ordained and non-ordained, Leadership Conference of Women Religious and Conference of Major Superiors of Women Religious? Is this the best we can do? Is this pleasing to God?

I will focus on the theological dimensions of the present dilemma. First I will review three challenges all congregations of apostolic religious had to meet in view of the Council's call for "appropriate renewal." Next I will consider a fourth, unexpected challenge that emerged after the Council, namely, a crisis of faith with respect to the origin, structure, and authority of the Church that has affected the relations between apostolic religious and the hierarchy -- the "institutional Church." I will suggest that our "different ecclesiologies" are a major source of our malaise. Finally, I will venture some thoughts as to the nature of the "treasure" we have lost and identify a fifth challenge that remains to be fully met and that offers us the prospect of reclaiming that "treasure."

Three Challenges Presented by the Council

The Second Vatican Council challenged us to clarify the nature of our vocation as religious in light of the "universal call to holiness" addressed to all the baptized; to adapt our manner of living, praying, working and governing ourselves to meet the apostolic needs of our day; and to expand our apostolic concerns in view of the Church's teaching on social justice. How have these three challenges affected our self-understanding as apostolic religious, our community life, and our ability to bear corporate witness?

1. The Universal Call to Holiness and the Special Vocation of Apostolic Religious

The Council's teaching on the universal call to holiness held an indirect challenge for apostolic religious. If all fully initiated Christians are called, by reason of their Baptism, to imitate Jesus, poor, chaste, and obedient, and to strive for the perfection of charity according to their state of life, what is special about religious life? Some apostolic religious, troubled by this, imagined that the emphasis on the universal call to holiness diminished the value of their own vocation. They asked: If perfection can be attained in other ways of life, why make the sacrifices called for by the vows? Many others embraced the new emphasis. They gladly announced their solidarity with the laity and renounced any vestiges of privilege, deliberately distancing themselves from whatever might signify "elitism" or imply the "superiority" of the religious vocation. In their desire to repudiate "elitism," however, some abandoned not only the privileges they now disdained but also some of the ascetical disciplines and devotional practices that gave public witness to their quest for holiness of life. The effort to avoid "elitism," in fact, led some women and men religious to make adaptations that have obscured their identity as publicly consecrated, ecclesial persons, and sometimes scandalized the laity.

So what is distinctive about the religious life? The Council teaches that the difference lies in the special call religious receive -- a gift of the Holy Spirit -- and in the response by which we commit ourselves to the pursuit of Christian holiness under a new "title." We are called to give a more radical expression to our baptismal vocation and to follow Christ "more closely" by means of our vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. As Pope John Paul II pointed out in Vita consecrata,

[A]ll those reborn in Christ are called to live out, with the strength which is the Spirit's gift, the chastity appropriate to their state of life, obedience to God and to the Church, and a reasonable detachment from material possessions: for all are called to holiness, which consists in the perfection of love. But Baptism in itself does not include the call to celibacy or virginity, the renunciation of possessions or obedience to a superior, in the form proper to the evangelical counsels.

The religious life, undertaken by means of the vows, presupposes "a particular gift of God not given to everyone . . . a specific gift of the Holy Spirit." We have received this vocation to strive for holiness by means that are "over and above" what is required of all the baptized.

Much attention has been given to the meaning and "witness value" of the vows since the Council. In an effort to "accentuate the positive and eliminate the negative," some have proposed that the vows actually commit us only to the practice of the virtues, e.g., that poverty means "living simply," chastity means "loving generously," and obedience means "listening for indications of God's will." But one cannot vow to do what is already required! The vows are promises made to God "concerning some good that is possible and better." What is this "good"? It is the good of a covenant relationship by which we freely and publicly bind ourselves to the following of "the Lord Jesus, who, virginal and poor (cf. Matthew 8:20; Luke 9:58), redeemed and sanctified [us] by obedience unto death on the cross (cf. Philippians 2:8)."

While it is true that the "perfection" of the vow lies in the practice of the virtues, the vows themselves commit us to very specific obligations that, taken together, give distinctive shape to our way of life. By chastity we oblige ourselves to perfect continence in celibacy; by poverty, to be dependent upon our religious institutes and to observe their laws about the use and disposition of goods; and by obedience, to submit our wills to our lawful superiors when they command in keeping with the constitutions. We freely choose to do this out of a desire to return love for love by making a total gift of self. We make a serious, public commitment, on the order of marriage, and the Church, by accepting our vows, consecrates us -- sets us apart -- as public witnesses to the transcendent value of belonging wholly to the Lord and seeking first the coming of his kingdom.

In relation to our distinctive vocation, then, let us examine our consciences. Have we accepted one of the new "theologies" of religious life that empties the vows of their specific objects and obligations? Have we used our desire for "solidarity" with the laity to excuse ourselves from the asceticism that our life requires if we are to build up the Church by the prophetic witness of holiness? Have we become so "laid back," "relaxed," and immersed in the world shaped by TV and consumerism that we no longer constitute a sign for others, that is, that we are indistinguishable from generous lay persons whose good works are motivated by faith?

2. Adaptation for the Apostolate and the "Monastic" Ideal

Perfectae caritatis directed that the "manner of living, praying and working" of men and women religious should be suitably adapted not only to the modern physical and psychological circumstances of the members but also, as required by the nature of each institute, to the necessities of the apostolate, the demands of culture, and social and economic circumstances. This has been a tall order.

The challenge to make adaptations required by our contemporary situation in ministry led us to consider critically the differences between an "apostolic" as compared to a "monastic" lifestyle. There were immediate and direct implications for religious whose identity as "semi-cloistered" prevented them from everyday interactions with the laity, but the choices we made in this regard have ultimately affected almost all of us. During the years of experimentation, we evaluated practices and patterns that were once assumed to characterize religious life (e.g., a set schedule or horarium, daily liturgical prayer and spiritual exercises in common, a distinctive habit, a local superior in every community). Some of us have abandoned these or made them optional, on the grounds that these elements were vestiges of a "monastic" lifestyle no longer required of or appropriate to apostolic religious. The increasing professionalization and "parochialization" of the ministries has, in fact, seemed to require much more flexibility with respect to certain of them (like the horarium, daily Mass in common, and the religious habit). But it is high time to assess the impact these adaptations have had on our own lives, on the witness we hope to give, and on our ability to attract new recruits. If an institute has abandoned practices the Holy See identifies as "essential" to religious life, for example, one must ask whether it should plan to reclaim that element, or whether it may now belong to some other category of consecrated life.

One such "element" is the obligation of common life. This continues to be the subject of vigorous debate. Some favor re-defining "common life" in such a way that it may be understood to include religious who live alone for the sake of their ministry but come together regularly in small groups for mutual support; others want to insist that it entails actually living together under one roof on a daily basis and under the direction of a local superior. These debates are greatly complicated by the realities of ministry placement (e.g., the difficulties involved in arranging a corporate contract, finding ministries in the same locale, and securing housing). Some may urge that the institute's apostolic goals should take priority over common life, which they regard as a "monastic" value. It is not clear how this tension should be resolved, and the resolution will differ from one institute to another, but these debates should not proceed without reference to the Holy See's determination that common life belongs to the definition of religious life, including apostolic religious life -- by contrast, for example, with secular institutes.

Common life is prescribed not simply for reasons of convenience and economy, nor even for mutual support in ministry, but because it manifests our communion in Christ. By our consecration, we share the same traditions, spirituality, apostolic purpose, resources, and constitutions. Our sisterly or brotherly communion announces that persons who love God are able to love and sustain each other, accept one another's gifts and limitations, share joys and sorrows -- despite differences in age, race, language, nationality, culture, temperament, and ministerial competence. Because the asceticism of community life demands love, forgiveness, patience, and mutual self-giving, it contributes to growth in holiness. Vowed life, in fact, has serious practical consequences chiefly for those who live together. In an age of exaggerated individualism, community life is truly a prophetic sign. By living together, even at great cost, religious are able to bear striking witness to the Trinitarian mystery of self-emptying love.

As regards our adaptation for the sake of mission, let us ask: Have we -- out of necessity or by our own choice -- abandoned elements that are, in fact, essential to religious life? Does our common residence function only as a "hotel"? Are we content to make "common life" optional, as a matter of practical necessity, or do we actively seek ways to live together? Are we willing to give it greater priority for the sake of attracting vocations? Given the "professionalization" of non-ordained ministries, is it possible to reclaim common life even if we want to do so? What factors within and outside of our control now militate against it? What might our bishops, vicars for religious, and pastors do to enable and support common life for apostolic religious?

3. Commitment to Social Justice and the Direct Proclamation of the Gospel

A third challenge faced by most apostolic religious during the immediate post-conciliar era came from the Council's emphasis on social justice. We took up the task of adaptation and renewal during the era of the civil rights movement, the War on Poverty, the Vietnam War, the "second wave" of the feminist movement, the Equal Rights Amendment, and "liberation theology." Apostolic religious who read Gaudium et spes and the 1971 Synod of Bishops' document, "Justice in the World," took very much to heart the assertion that "action on behalf of justice and participation in the transformation of the world fully appear...as a constitutive dimension of the preaching of the Gospel."

Apostolic religious have taken up this challenge with enthusiasm, eager to correct what was for some a rather exclusive preoccupation with the Church's internal life and health, to the neglect of the justice issues of the times, such as racism. Our commitment to justice, peace, and the integrity of creation continues to have high priority in many apostolic institutes. When we discuss our priorities in mission we should not feel forced to make a choice between the commitment to social justice or the direct proclamation of the Gospel with the intention to convert individuals to Christ and bring them to sacramental life in the Catholic Church. These objectives belong together. Evangelization, in the broad sense given it by Paul VI, is not limited to the conversion of individuals to Christ; it must also touch and transform cultures.

Having said this, however, Pope Paul insisted, "There is no true evangelization if the name, the teaching, the life, the promises, the kingdom and the mystery of Jesus of Nazareth, the Son of God are not proclaimed." More recently, Pope John Paul II called for a "new evangelization" of nominal Christians, those among the baptized who live far from Christ and his Gospel. We have, in last spring's report from the Pew Forum, evidence that many Catholics in the U.S. no longer have a sense of living faith. Several studies of young adults and reports from Catholic colleges confirm our suspicion that we may lose another generation to the faith.

How shall we respond? Which of our founders entrusted to us the task of educating the Church's children and youth? Have we stopped worrying about their eternal salvation? The proclamation of the kingdom must include handing on the Gospel message by word and example, in accord with the charism of our own founders. It involves introducing young people to Jesus Christ, calling for conversion of heart, and leading them to full participation in the Church's life. It is puzzling and even a cause for embarrassment that two of our national leadership conferences, LCWR and CMSM, focus so resolutely on the world's agenda and global issues and give so little attention to the urgent needs of the Church. Why do they seem to care more about the future of Earth than the future of the Church? If it is not a matter of "either-or" but of "both-and," what accounts for their selective emphasis? My guess is that the answer is related to the influence, direct or indirect, of the fourth, unexpected challenge, namely, contemporary theological proposals about the nature of the Church.

A Fourth, Unexpected Challenge: Competing "Ecclesiologies"

The fourth challenge has been the advent of unprecedented theological pluralism and public dissent within the Catholic Church. The period of adaptation and renewal coincided with a time of trial for the whole Church in which many religious mourned the departure of friends and colleagues, debated optional celibacy, protested against Humanae Vitae, engaged in a succession of liturgical "experiments," and endured endless meetings. Some undertook civil disobedience on behalf of civil rights and in opposition to the Vietnam War, and applied the lessons learned to internal congregational and ecclesial issues, spurred on by the logic of liberation theology. Many women religious, caught up in the feminist movement, claimed the right to self-determination as regards the future of their own institutes; became advocates for lay ministry, and took the lead in the movement for women's ordination. In 1983, when the revised Code of Canon Law was promulgated and the Holy See proclaimed that the period of "experimentation" had come to an end, many women and men religious had little or no interest in dialoguing with the bishops on how they measured up to the Essential Elements in the Church's Teaching on Religious Life, a document prepared by the Holy See as an assessment tool.

It was more than a matter of poor timing or self-assertion, however, for critical theological questions were part of the mix -- questions concerning method and content, doctrine and morality, historical consciousness and the development of doctrine. I referred earlier to a crisis of faith with respect to the origin, nature, and authority of the Church, and thus of the relation of religious life to the hierarchy, "the institutional Church." Some apostolic religious have approached these questions as "justice issues," in line with this assertion from the 1971 Synod of Bishops: "While the Church is bound to give witness to justice, she recognizes that anyone who ventures to speak to people about justice must first be just in their eyes; hence, we must undertake an examination of the modes of action, of the possessions, and of the lifestyle found within the church itself.""

It was easy to move from protesting injustices in the social order to protesting what were alleged to be injustices in the Church: mandatory celibacy for the clergy, Pope Paul's decision (against the majority opinion) in Humanae vitae; the formal disciplinary measures taken against theologians, like Hans Küng, Leonardo Boff, Charles Curran, and the priests and religious who signed the "abortion" ad in The New York Times; and disciplinary measures against various men and women religious involved in politics. By 1975, the reservation of priestly ordination to men was added to the list of "justice issues," and since that time many Catholics continue to claim, on this account, that women are unfairly barred from "full participation" in the Church. The list of alleged "injustices" grew, and public protests continue to be forthcoming. Today, for example, the issues include claiming certain "rights" for divorced and remarried Catholics and persons with homosexual inclinations. The revelations of clerical sexual abuse and the painfully inadequate response of their bishops and major superiors served to confirm the suspicions of conservatives and liberals alike that the hierarchy cannot be trusted to have the good of the people at heart.

Many apostolic religious, perhaps in response to these decisions and the bitter disappointments of the recent scandals, claim the "prophetic vocation" to denounce injustices in the Church. Some call for "structural change" in the Church. At first this was a way of insisting that women and married men ought to be eligible for ordination to the priesthood; ordination was seen as the route to "full participation." Many today, however, no longer seek priestly ordination because they now envision the "reform" of the Church as its transformation into a "discipleship of equals" which has no place for the ministerial priesthood and apostolic hierarchy.

Some leading feminist theologians publicly promote one or another version of this agenda, and their opinions have influenced the thinking and attitudes of many women religious. Some religious priests also lodge complaints against the hierarchy and even reject the Church's teaching, reiterated at Vatican II, that the ministerial priesthood differs in kind (essentially) and not only in degree from the common priesthood of the faithful. Dissent on whether there is an "essential difference" between the ordained and the non-ordained touches on the sacramental structure and divine constitution of the Church. This inevitably raises the question of authority in the Church. Who has the right to teach and to make decisions in and for the Church -- only the clergy? Should not everyone have a say in what touches everyone? Should not all members have a say about Church teaching and participate directly in decision-making? Have the bishops and the pope simply arrogated to themselves an authority or power over the rest of the baptized that Jesus never intended?

Apostolic religious -- theologians, publishers, social activists, major superiors -- have been entertaining these critical questions, some as protagonists for change and others as protagonists for "fidelity to the magisterium." These disputes have inevitably had an impact on the way we responded to the three challenges mentioned earlier, and have divided us from one another. Even those who want to stand fast in the "radical middle" inevitably feel the influence of these currents of thought.

Polarization: Hierarchically-Structured Church vs. "Discipleship of Equals"

One hears apostolic religious explain their differences by saying, "We have "different ecclesiologies," and they are correct. They usually claim one of two positions. On the one hand, there are the "conservatives" who accept the Church's hierarchical structure, teaching authority, and jurisdiction; they are eager to collaborate with the bishops, gain their approval, and be publicly associated with them. On the other hand, there are the "liberals" (or perhaps, the "radicals") who distinguish between the Church as "the People of God" (which they profess to love) and the "institutional church" (from which they feel alienated). They are wary of distinctions based on sex or status or power, and they long for the day when all "dualistic hierarchies" are brought down and replaced by a "discipleship of equals."

Apostolic religious in the second group are at odds in various degrees with the "institutional Church," that is, with the clergy, and especially the bishops, including the Bishop of Rome. Some of them ("radicals") reject hierarchical authority outright because they think it represents the triumph of patriarchy ("father-rule") and is "contrary to the message of Jesus and antithetical to the reign of God." Others ("liberals") do not reject the hierarchy as such, but only certain of its doctrinal and disciplinary judgments or what they regard as its abusive manner of exercising authority. In either case, apostolic religious in this group claim to owe allegiance to the "People of God," but envision this "People" as an unstructured community of believers, devoid of hierarchical authority. This "model of the Church" is incompatible with Catholic doctrine.

Although radical feminism provides the ideological foundation for this critique, there are male as well as female religious who publicly espouse and promote these anti-hierarchical options. There are others who do not promote the critique directly but do so indirectly by turning a deaf ear to the magisterium's teaching on religious life, moral questions, and matters of doctrine and liturgy. Some who embrace a "prophetic call" to inaugurate the "reform of church structures" assume the role of the "loyal opposition" vis-à-vis the hierarchy. Religious priests in clerical institutes, because they are ordained, have the capacity to develop "alternative" or "parallel" ways of "being church." Some of them exercise considerable influence through their parishes, their preaching and teaching ministries, their retreat and sabbatical programs, and their sponsorship of seminaries, universities, journals, and publishing houses.

By contrast and often in deliberate response to these developments, other women and men religious have firmly and publicly claimed their ecclesial identity, as traditionally understood. They stand as witnesses against their liberal sisters and brothers in religion. The public perception of apostolic religious is that we are divided, as institutes and within many of our institutes, by our "ecclesiologies," our relationship with the hierarchy. We are categorized as "true believers" or "rebels," "restorationist" or "renewed."

I hasten to acknowledge that many apostolic religious remain aloof from this dispute. They are the "silent majority" -- men and women religious who do not want to return to pre-Vatican II patterns but are not ideologically committed to the "radical" program of Church "reform," in spite of some disillusionments and setbacks. They are deeply immersed in their ministry and feel no responsibility for the state of religious life as a whole. At best, they may be troubled by the dearth of new vocations in their own institutes or worried about losing their "job" and having to find a new one. They might pick up a book about religious life on retreat and set it down as offering disturbing or alien advice, but they probably do not mention this for fear of seeming out of step. If a sister or brother is giving the homily at Mass instead of a priest, they may ask why, but they accept someone else's assurance that under some circumstances this is permitted. They may wonder why the community now prays from an alternative Breviary with non-scriptural readings and an alternative doxology, but they assume someone more learned than they knows the explanation. In fact, they probably try to avoid calling each other's judgment into question in order to steer clear of controversy. Perhaps only those in leadership, vocation recruitment, or formation are paying close attention to the consequences that follow from the "radical" or "anti-hierarchical ecclesiology."

The "Discipleship of Equals" Ecclesiology: Some Consequences

What are the consequences, for apostolic religious, of adopting the "discipleship of equals" ecclesiology? First, with respect to our understanding of the vows as a distinctive element in religious life, it must be said forthrightly that those who reject the God-given authority of the hierarchy, for whatever theological reason, simply cut the ground out from under the vocation to "religious life" as the Church understands and regulates it. An anti-hierarchical ecclesiology provides absolutely no justification for professing public vows, in particular, for making a vow of obedience. At most, we could promise each other that we will seek God's will, cooperate in carrying out the institute's mission, and take responsibility for participating in community affairs. We have no reason to promise obedience to God unless we believe that the person who exercises authority does so in his name. If we accept the authority of the hierarchy we do have reason to do this because we understand that the authority the religious superior exercises "proceeds from the Spirit of the Lord" through the hierarchy, that is, because the Bishop or the Holy See "has granted canonical erection to the institute and authentically approved its specific mission." We accept the authority of the hierarchy -- its teaching authority and jurisdiction -- because we believe that Jesus Christ entrusted his ministry to them. This is part of our faith in the Church as the unique mediator of salvation. This is what justifies our decision to imitate the saving obedience of Jesus by surrendering our wills to another whom we confidently believe mediates God's will to us.

With respect to adaptation for the needs of apostolic ministry, we might expect proponents of the "discipleship of equals" to advocate common life as a way of modeling the transformation of the Church they hope to bring about. In practice, however, it seems that the community they envision is based more on a doctrine of equal rights than on a response of self-emptying love. There is no need for a superior with personal authority in their model; it is sufficient to have a facilitator who will insure that everyone has the opportunity to participate and that nothing be imposed that is not supported by the consensus of the group. Dialoguing with the goal of reaching such a consensus is more likely to lead to independent living, communities chosen on the basis of compatibility, or simply "hotel living" than to the witness of common life envisioned by our founders. Apart from the desire to follow Christ even to the Cross, community members with diverse "mindsets" and even diverse "belief systems" will not be motivated to transcend their own interests in self-emptying love.

As regards the "social justice" agenda, we have seen that it leads some to assume a "prophetic" vocation to eradicate alleged injustices in the Church. They justify this by appealing to moments in the history of the Church when apostolic religious brought about the doctrinal and moral reform of the hierarchy. They are on a collision course with the magisterium, however, if they regard the ministerial office instituted by Christ as itself "unjust"; or if they caution us against collaborating in the pastoral care of the faithful lest we shore up the "unjust" clerical system; or if they offer theological and pastoral "alternatives" to Catholics who dissent on matters of faith, morals, or discipline. Can advocates of Church "reform" who defy or ignore the magisterium be trusted to exercise an authentic "prophetic" ministry? Should those who invite apostolic religious to "leave the Church" in order to serve God's cause more faithfully be given a platform in assemblies and institutions sponsored by religious orders? Why should we expect women and men religious who hold these views to be interested in the "new evangelization"?

Some Questions

Apostolic religious did not expect to become caught up in this kind of controversy, but it has become unavoidable. Ideas have consequences, and the anti-hierarchical option -- which is really "congregationalism," a Reformation option -- continues to be tolerated and seems to enjoy the approval and support of some women and men religious who serve in congregational leadership and in the leadership of two of our national conferences, LCWR and CMSM. Do not these leaders unwittingly perpetuate the divisions within their (and our) institutes? Are member institutes, or individuals within them, free to question the directions they have taken? Is a not-so-subtle attitude of resentment against the "institutional church" being perpetuated and passed on to new generations by the very bodies that are charged with coordinating our relationships with the Holy See? Are our institutes well served by these conferences? Is the Holy See well served? Is it time, perhaps, for a formal "visitation"?

Perhaps the crisis of "followership" is just as problematic as the crisis of leadership. How can those religious institutes that once flourished and now flounder proceed with the necessary renewal if there exist among their numbers men and women religious who have freely adopted a "different ecclesiology" based on the feminist critique, some other anti-hierarchical ideology, or the "new cosmology"? How can a superior deal with what are really irreconcilable differences among community members, not only in their "ecclesiologies" but in their commitment to the Catholic faith as a whole? Once the issues have been framed in terms of power and rights, leaders may feel helpless, for in the absence of a voluntary self-surrender -- the free gift of self each of us made at our profession -- what recourse do they have? What responsibility do they have, however, to the congregation as a whole and to its future?

What about the hierarchy? Have our bishops turned these issues over to vicars for religious who themselves favor the "prophetic" witness aimed at reforming the hierarchy? Bishops may fear that confronting leaders of women and men religious will "only make things worse." But can it actually get worse? Have they no interest in the spiritual well-being of religious who find themselves exiles in their own institutes? Have our bishops washed their hands of us? Are they content to extend the annual collection for the support of retired religious and move on to other matters? We do not expect or want our bishops to tell us what to do, but they need to be part of the solution, especially for religious institutes of diocesan right.

The "Treasure" and a Fifth Challenge

What "treasure" do women and men living the apostolic religious life want to reclaim? What has been lost and what do we long for? Let me offer some reflections as a starting point for today's symposium.

Naming the "Treasure"

What is the "treasure"? In the first place, the treasure is our covenant relationship with Jesus Christ who has chosen us and whom we have chosen in return; no one can take this treasure from us. In the great winnowing of the past forty years, each of us has found some way to live our consecration in intimate communion with him -- whatever distress we might experience in trying to live it out in our religious institutes or in the Church. We would not be here today if we had not. With St. Paul, we know that we bear this treasure -- "the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ" -- in earthen vessels "to show that the transcendent power belongs to God and not to us" (2 Cor 4:6-7).

But we cannot have Christ without the Church! We cannot claim to belong entirely to Christ and at the same time repudiate the covenant community which he established, which he loves, for which he sacrificed his life (Eph 5:25). Pope Paul VI said as much in the Apostolic Letter Evangelii nuntiandi, in response to certain anti-hierarchical strains in liberation theology. He refers with sorrow to well-intentioned but misguided Catholics who claim "to love Christ but without the Church, to listen to Christ but not the Church, to belong to Christ but outside the Church." This dichotomy is absurd, he says, as anyone knows who recalls the Lord's saying, "Anyone who rejects you rejects me" (Lk 10:16)

In response to the dichotomy often proposed today, I would add: Nor can we claim to love "the People of God" and at the same time reject the "institutional church," those consecrated and sent by Christ to teach, sanctify, and govern that people. This dichotomy, too, depends on a distortion of Catholic doctrine and the application of a norm extrinsic to our faith, a secular conception of "equal rights" that has no inkling of the desire for self-sacrifice that love alone inspires. The Church cannot be reduced to a sociological entity and then reinvented according to our intuition about what best expresses "equality." The Church is a gift from God in Christ, an internally-differentiated priestly community. It cannot be our "prophetic" vocation as apostolic religious to repudiate the ministerial priesthood and the hierarchical structure of the Church! This does not mean there is no place for "fraternal correction," for we may indeed call one another to a more faithful living out of the Gospel. We may lament the failures of our brothers in the hierarchy, who like us are "earthen vessels," but we cannot reject the Church as a hierarchically-structured community that mediates Christ's salvation. We must expect the Church's pastors, in turn, to call us to fulfill our vocation -- our public, ecclesial vocation, in fact, the "prophetic" vocation entrusted to us by our founders.

The Fifth Challenge: Spiritual Renewal according to the Founding Charism

There was one more challenge the Council put to apostolic religious, namely, the challenge to spiritual renewal according to the Gospel, the legacy or charism of the founder(s), and the authentic traditions of each institute. We may have taken this up years ago, but perhaps the only way to reclaim the treasure now is to return to that task with fresh vigor and determination. If we want to regain the moral authority once enjoyed by apostolic religious, if we long for that "full participation" in the Church's life which is identical with holiness, the perfection of charity, let us "start afresh from Christ" and from the charism of our founders, free of "politically correct" considerations. Why did our founders request canonical status? What is the ideal that attracted us to this institute? How faithfully are we expressing it? What is it our institute continues to offer the Church today?

Let us study, along with our founding stories and documents, the many exhortations addressed to apostolic religious by the Holy See -- from Perfectae caritatis to the most recent instruction on Authority and Obedience. Let us really study them, and use them for individual and communal self-examination. Are we still willing? Do we still desire to profess the poverty, chastity, and obedience of Jesus Christ "freely, willingly, and purely for the love of God"? Shall we help each other to do this?

The "treasure" many of us would like to reclaim, perhaps, is the possibility of living the religious life fully, in peace, according to the charism of our communities, in communion with the hierarchy and collaboration with the laity, that is, according to the ecclesiology of communion, "one in heart and soul" with the Church. Beyond that, the "treasure" might be the confidence that our consecration makes a difference; that we belong to Christ and to his Church in and through the mediation of our religious institute, and that our charism and mission are valued by others in the Church -- laity and hierarchy -- as a gift of the Holy Spirit. We would like to get beyond the stress of being suspicious and being under suspicion, and enter into a realm where we are recognized as a resource, where we are needed and wanted, where we can make a corporate impact through ministerial service that is coordinated with or supplements diocesan plans.

Those of us who choose to remain, and who embrace the obligation to live the religious life as the Holy See defines it, long for the rebirth of relationships in which our place in the Church is clear and unambiguous, and in which we can ask of one another the witness of holiness according to the nature, purpose, and spirit of our institutes. We desire to develop apostolic initiatives that will allow us to live and work together so that our efforts will build up the Church, give striking witness to her mission, and attract vocations so that our charism will continue to be a gift to the Church. Let us keep our eyes on the "treasure." Let us renew our willingness to "sell everything" to possess it.