Reinhard Körner, OCD / Birkenwerder
At the time I am writing this article (in October 1994), 180 bishops and the same number of invited representatives from 1700 orders and religious communities are congregating in Rome for an entire month on the theme of "the life consecrated to God and its mission in the Church and in the world" – that is, about religious life and its current significance. Since the announcement of this synod three years ago, much has been said in monasteries and religious houses about what we, religious Christians, see as the meaning of our way of life and our role in the Church and in the world. Perhaps never before has there been such a lively exchange of opinions about these questions among sisters and brothers in convents – but mainly also between different orders – worldwide. When around 500 general superiors gathered in November 1993 at a conference to discuss the stance of their communities regarding the preparatory document (the so-called "lineamenta") of the Vatican synodal secretariat, they quickly reached consensus on one point: the image that the synodal secretariat in Rome has of the current situation of the orders does not correspond to reality at all; indeed, even on the question of what constitutes the uniqueness of the religious vocation, responses in Rome – and perhaps also from many Christians, including priests and bishops – differ in many respects from how at least many religious and their own superiors attempt to respond to it. And they were united on this point as well: "The renewal of religious life," which the Second Vatican Council called for thirty years ago and to which it appealed, has not yet reached – as could be read in the Lineamenta from Rome – "a definite conclusion"; renewal is still ahead of us. The process of transformation currently taking place throughout the Church, indeed throughout all humanity, has affected religious communities to the extent that it can – as the stance of the unity of the religious superiors of Germany indicates – only be sincerely stated: Religious life has been "subjected since Vatican II to an enormous internal and external upheaval… which, with great openness to the guidance of the Spirit, after many periods of seeking, requires open horizons of questions and visions. Today, it is no longer clear what religious life is, and it wants to be experienced as a question."
- Thus, we, religious Christians, are currently looking toward Rome with tension and, of course, with a good dose of sober skepticism, waiting to see whether and what impulses will emerge from the bishops gathered in Rome. In my small contribution, I do not want to anticipate these impulses. I would like to present a few thoughts that, according to my conviction and many of my brothers and sisters in Carmel, address the essential conditions that are necessary for us to remain open to the renewal to which the Spirit of God leads us; fundamental conditions that may, suitably adapted, be useful for the renewal of Christian life in general, regardless of the "state" of life.
1. Learning the "art of dying"
An evident phenomenon of religious life today is undoubtedly the declining and further disappearing number of members. Over the past 30 years, there has been a decline of 40% worldwide, even including a relatively strong increase in Third World countries; 70% of all religious are over 60 years old, with female communities having even more than 80%; at least in Europe and North America, the number of religious vocations has shrunk... Some communities are affected more by this statistic, others less – generally regardless of whether they are "contemplative" or "active" orders.
It is no sign of unbelieving pessimism, if we realistically conclude that the number of members will continue to decline in almost all religious communities – especially in our Western European countries – in the coming years. Some orders, also in our country (note: written by a German), will become extinct. A look into the history of the Church teaches that this is not just a phenomenon of our time; of the more than 50 "begging orders" that emerged between 1210 and 1260, only the Franciscans, Dominicans, Carmelites, Augustinians, and Servites remain in today's Church. Orders come into being and disappear...
Earlier generations of our sisters and brothers spoke of "ars moriendi", the "art of dying." Many of us religious are remembering this today once more. It is, of course, a word that, when few or no novices are being welcomed, when branch houses are being discontinued, and the usual structure of the monastery has to be reshaped for a smaller number, only with difficulty passes over our lips...
Gratitude for what has been, bidding farewell to what is no more, openness to what comes (or does not) – is the art of life, due to dying and living. We are prompted to learn this again today; we, religious Christians, are not the only ones called to this. Today's "crisis of the order" is just one element of a broader crisis in the Church, and that is just one element of the crisis of the human family. Christians, including "monks," will always exist – yet the forms of their lives, their social structures, and their activities will change.
2. Processing spiritual "old burdens"
The reasons for the decline in members and the lack of vocations are diverse. They do not solely lie in the area of guilt and must be seen in the context of the development of the entire Church and society. Proportionally, the share of religious among Catholic Christians in some areas has rarely been higher than the current state of about 1 per 1000. Nevertheless, transformative and crisis situations challenge us to ask about the mistakes and deficiencies of the past and about renewal in the present and future. I think I am not painting a rosy picture when I say that in the years following the Second Vatican Council, many reflections took place regarding this in the orders – partly indicating a path for the entire Church. In a conversation on the occasion of the episcopal synod on religious life, an abbess of a Benedictine monastery in Dinklage confesses: "In the last generations, we have lived in women's religious communities" – this certainly applies just as much to men's orders – "in many ways very narrowly. This was also related to the cultural factors of the time. This does not apply universally – there were magnificent examples of breadth and openness even in the years before the council. In the founding history of the 19th century, there are remarkable examples of faith, spirit of adventure, initiative, and imagination. Nevertheless, on the whole, there was indeed a lot of human and religious distress. The understanding of obedience was usually such that many women remained trapped in dependence and could not mature. They were not given space, nor were they encouraged to form their own opinions and judgments. I think we should all find better and more suitable forms of religious coexistence…” (Correspondence Herder 10/1994)
However, it is not only the understanding of obedience that requires daring processing and critical reflection back to the Gospel. "Old burdens," which we have to cope with, include the entire realm of "spiritual life," into whose practice and understanding many erroneous interpretations crept over the centuries – not only among monks and nuns but as well among clergy in relation to the faithful. Perhaps we find them to be more severe in monastic communities.
After the council, almost all orders revised their constitutions (rules, concretized for the respective time) in regard to such erroneous interpretations and tried to newly capture the original spirit of their founder. Meanwhile, we realize that we cannot consider this work completed at all... There is much wisdom in the humor with which an ancient father responded to the question from his superior regarding what should be written on his memorial card after his death: "Write: He tried to live according to the Gospel – as far as the constitutions allowed."
3. Seeking meaning, not purpose
Religious people are – and have been – a "minority" in the Church and in society. Thus, the way of life from the outset has always prompted the question: Why do you live like this – and what is actually your task? Those communities active in spiritual care and charity could refer in earlier times to their fields of work, in which they wanted to serve God and people "integrally." In almost all of these areas, there are now also non-religious individuals working. "Does a person have to enter a religious order to care for the sick, to work in a school, in spiritual care?…" they ask today. Sisters and brothers who live in the cloistered form of contemplative and monastic monasteries and cannot demonstrate any visible activity externally have had and still have a hard time justifying their existence in the face of such questions. It is understandable when we religious then seek a purpose – even if not economically, yet still a spiritually accountable one – to justify to our life context (and to ourselves!) what we live. As a result, we find a purpose-oriented religiosity, which manifests itself in statements like: "Us? We pray for you; we are the contemplative Mary in the Church, you are the active Martha; we bear the injustices of the world; we represent you before God; we make God's love present in the world…" Bishops and priests, yes, also many official texts from liturgy or church law support this purposive thinking when they speak, for example, about "narrower" following of Christ or about "complete surrender" to God in the state of celibacy and would like to consider the religious life especially as a "sign of God's presence in the world." – More and more sisters and brothers today realize that something completely does not agree with such an understanding of the order: it either leads to pharisaism (which one rarely notices oneself, but others do!), or it leads to religious performance and perfection pressure, which the soul suffers from…; and it is some quiet injustice to Christians who in their often unprotected life situations in family and profession still want to lead a contemplative life, praying, meditating, interceding for the plight of others, and would like to live in complete surrender to God – either with a spouse or without one…
Religious life has primarily meaning, not purpose – a meaning that a person does not give to their life, but rather discovers and finds. And usually, one who can simply and soberly say: I live in a religious order (and precisely in this specific order!), because I believe that – personally! – in this form of life I can still most seriously collaborate with God and his kingdom… If God then makes this life fruitful for others or even a "sign" – just as the life of any individual can be made fruitful and turned into a sign – it will remain His "merit."
Experience has taught us again and again that women and men who came with lofty ideals for God and for humanity into the novitiate often took a different path shortly afterward; generally, only those remain who – mostly after deep crises – simply and straightforwardly know: Here, in this imperfect community, there is likely the best place for me to mature humanly – nothing more; and thank God he brought me to this place.
The true value of prayer, intercession, representation, contemplation… unveils itself in this sense of religious life, not in giving meaning, not in some perhaps pious purpose. Today, we religious are called to greatness, to penetrate to this "small" meaning and to admit it simply and decisively – even if others in the Church attribute great significance to our form of life.
4. Understanding "vocation" anew
Religious life is – classically expressed – a matter of vocation, not giving meaning or arguments. This holds true for the course of this path as well as for its beginning. What is "vocation"? The extended concept can be summarized as follows: God has a fixed plan with me for a very specific life path; it is my task to recognize and implement this plan – "God's will"; if I do not recognize it and do not realize it, I have missed his will. What is correct in this is that God has given me certain gifts and abilities that make me suitable for certain paths, while I am not suited for others. It is also true that it is Christ who "draws" people – mostly through other people – to himself (cf. John 12:32) and calls them to follow him (cf. the history of vocations in the four Gospels). What is incorrect, however, is the presumption that God has for me only a single path or that the call to follow Jesus is already in itself a call to celibacy or the state of religious life. – There is only one vocation: to live in communion with Christ, a vocation to be a Christian; and there are many paths to realize this vocation – according to personal charisms. What path of being a Christian I take – I am allowed to decide for myself. God allows freedom in this – and waits for my imagination, my co-responsibility for the plight and needs of the time, my commitment to a specific task in his kingdom, my decision… Because this aspect has been forgotten, many young people awaited a certain "sign from God" and remained undecided, interpreting something else as a "sign from God," which later turned out to be fiction, and many found themselves in doubts during times of "failure" and crisis as to whether perhaps they had not recognized their vocation correctly at the beginning of the journey… – "A person is led along the path they have chosen," says an old Jewish wisdom.
If we want to have decisive, aware religious individuals in the Church in the future, engaged people with backbone, it depends on whether we learn today to speak of Christ, who has called us friends, not servants (cf. John 15:15).
"Abraham, go out from your land, from your kinfolk and from your father's house to the land that I will show you..." (Gen 12:1 and following)
From: Körner, R., OCD: Ordensleben heute,
Karmel-impulse, 5, I/1995, 16–21, translated by Dr. Vojtěch Pola.
