Caryll Houselander
1901 - 1954

A Prayer for Our Time

British author so stunning with spiritual insight Caryll Houselander is best known for her book "The Reed of God", a meditation on Mary the mother of Jesus. The title is metaphor for Mary's willingness to allow God to work Divine Will in and through her being.

 

Less well known in the United States other works are rooted in her experience of the horrors of the London Blitz during World War II. Our monastic library (no longer with us to my great dismay) held some of these gems. Among them I found her little book "The Comforting of Christ". In just the title we are invited to consider such a strange notion; the idea that we human beings can comfort the suffering Christ. Think about that one.

 

At the end of this precious book Houselander placed a lengthy prayer entitled " A Meditation on the Mass of Reparation". Beautiful in its poetic phrasing the prayer never fails to open my heart. Over  and over again I have been drawn to the section that speaks of the moment when the priest adds a drop of water to the chalice of wine. I share this section here because while its content was born in the mist of Britain's darkest hour its appropriateness in our time is so poignant. After reading of the horrors reported in the New York Times on a daily basis, I am present at Mass with this prayer before me.

 

"Receive the tears of the world, in the drop of water in the Chalice; receive the tears of the old mothers who weep in the ruins of their homes, rifled nests of the little birds that were once their sons; receive the tears of frightened children, of homesick children. Receive the privileged tears of those who can weep for contrition; receive the tears that are not shed, that are hard as salt-water frozen in hearts that can weep no more; that ache in the throats of those who have no more tears to shed. Receive, O God, from my hands, who am not worthy to breathe the air He breathes, the tears of Christ in the Chalice of our salvation, the tears of the Infant in Bethlehem, the tears of the little foreign Child in Egypt, the tears shed over Jerusalem, the tears shed over Lazarus...O God, we offer Thee the tears of Christ in the tears of the world: "We offer Thee the Chalice of Salvation, humbly begging Thy mercy that it may ascend to Thee for our salvation and for that of the whole world."  

Receiving Eucharist at the Carmel of the Incarnation

Approaching the Table of the Lord

 

We recently received a reminder from our prioress to plan for our annual personal long retreat by the end of this calendar year. We have been much distracted for most of this year and such plans put aside. As I considered possibilities for a retreat of ten days outside the monastery I realized how much daily Eucharist meant to me and how I would be missing that privilege at all the locations which I considered.

These considerations brought me to meditation about my experience of Eucharist and how it has been affected by our experience in this monastery. I feel the warm Divine Embrace most keenly at the table of God’s love. And I have been feeling it even more keenly here at Carmel where both the architecture of the chapel and the choreography of liturgy seem designed to concentrate attention at the heart of the Eucharistic celebration.

The chapel, formerly very dark and hard at the edges, was recently reconfigured within the existing wall and roof structure to assume it the shape of an eye on the horizontal axis of the space. The current design places the entrance to the space at the middle of the curving bottom. The Eucharist is reserved in a silver cube-like tabernacle atop a wooden pillar opposite the entrance as if on the curve of the eye’s upper lid.

The shape is echoed most dramatically by an eye-shaped flying dropped ceiling. This pure white eye above contains a dome illuminated by indirect lighting and most dramatically by an ocular skylight at its apex. This opening to the sky brings a variety of lighting effects into the space as the sun travels across the sky through each day and each season. This ocular mandala illuminates the altar below, the entire eye-shape being mirrored in the tile pattern of the lustrous chapel floor.

The altar of Eucharist directly beneath the dome is perfectly round; a thick beige marble slab resting upon a matching platform of hardwood supported by four stout rectangular legs cross braced near the floor. Simple pewter candle stands seem anchored to holy ground in guard at the altar. Regardless of the location the viewer in any seat in the chapel seems to be directly facing the altar. The presider’s chair is the first seat of the first row of an in-the-round arrangement. He proclaims the Word from an ambo placed between the entrance and the altar.

 

When one makes a visit to the chapel during the day lighting is minimal. The beautiful setting behind the tabernacle immediately draws the eye and attention to the reserved Sacrament.  But when we gather for Mass the lighting is magnified, promoting a natural shift of eye and body toward the center of attention, the altar of the sacred banquet. In my own case, I am blessed to be assigned to a seat only twelve feet away from the altar at an angle which allows for a clear view of the vessels, the hands of the priest, the elements he consecrates and the expression on his face as he does so.

This arrangement alone fosters a unique intimacy in the experience of Eucharist. The priest so easily becomes Jesus himself beckoning, sharing, gifting; his movements imploring us to enter his life. The moment of remembering, the anamnesis of the Mass seems in this setting to be a progressive flowing into the Paschal Mystery. The flow of this shared moment of intimacy is extended by the manner in which all who celebrate here may partake of the Body and Blood of Christ made present on the altar by the very act of our remembering.

It has become the practice of this community to receive the Bread of Eucharist from the hands of the priest by approaching in two lines beginning from the rear of the chapel. Afterward each communicant is free to return to

their place for post-communion meditation or to proceed around the altar and face the chalices of the Wine of Eucharist waiting there. The altar is approached with evident but simple reverence, each person picking up a chalice and slowly savoring the Precious Blood of Jesus, cleansing the rim with a purificator and returning it to the corporal for the next communicant.

Some remark that this way of receiving Communion at Mass takes too much time. Some exacting liturgist may say it does not conform to the prescribed norms. Certainly it would not be practical in the parish setting. But here, where there are rarely more than 40 people present, it serves to provide time for a few contemplative moments at the heart of the Mass.

 

This manner of approaching the altar has provided for me a very sacred moment of intimacy; a very physical way of participating in Jesus’ last supper which we call into memory and into the present moment at every Eucharist. I come to the altar as if it is the table on which Jesus himself prepared this last gift, blessed it and invited all to partake of it; the bread and wine transformed by his power and by the community gathered together to listen to His Word. The altar table has been so carefully prepared; linens laundered white and crisply pressed, bearing a glowing chalice of precious metal containing rich wine. How many tables have I prepared with all the best in my own home? I remember the loving care I poured into banquet occasions so that they would be gift to the guest. In knowing that desire within myself I feel that same desire in the gift of Jesus’ table. My thirsty heart is watered by the sight of the lavish banquet prepared for me at this altar bathed in the light of God’s loving gaze. A heart thus watered blossoms into gratitude as I step to the altar and see all that awaits me there, all of it seeming to glow in the light that bathes what is received and those who receive it. I stand in the place where He stood; where He issued the invitation; where He made a place for me at His table. I raise the cup and drink at the banquet table of God’s love eager again to be transformed into what has been received. I am drawn into the anamnesis of the Mass, the act of remembering, in such a way that what is being remembered becomes present in our space, in our time. 

 

 

Redemptoristine Contemplative Insight

New Book Published by Redemptorists

Congregation of the Most Holy

Redeemer

(from the back cover)

Redemptorists have a common language. There are words, however, make us sometimes ask: "I wonder how that is understood in our history and tradition?" The Lexicon focuses on key words and concepts...in Redemptorist history, tradition and spirituality...It is not meant to be just an academic addition to the bookshelf. 'Reflection Questions' at the end of each entry are designed to stimulate internal contemplation and external discussion...A resource for ongoing formation.

This book has been along time in coming. Rather than being a dictionary of key words and concepts , it is a far more informative and useful collection of brief essays on key people, topics, and spiritual concepts in the Redemptorist tradition. As example, these topics fall under the letter 'r': recollection, reconciliation, Redeemer Jesus Christ, Redemptorist family, Redemptoristines, restrusturing, resurrection, review of life, revivalism.

One of the editors and author of many of the Lexicon's entries is Father Dennis Billy. Over htree years ago he asked me to write the entry for the key concept of Redemptoristine spirituality "viva memoria" or living memory. The inspiration for this insight into the mystical life was received by our foundress Ven. Maria Celeste Croastarosa. Her insights and her Rule of Life preceeded that of St. Alphonsus Liguori. Since they were friends during the ciritical days of the founding of our Order and less than two years later the beginning of his congregation, they influenced each other. Each saw the need to live so much in the virutes of Jesus Christ that one is transformed into a "viva memoria" a living memory of Jesus the Redeemer. Maria Celeste's way was through solitude, silence, and contemplation and that of Alphonsus through pastoral and ministerial devotion to the poor and most abandoned.

The following is the full text the of the entry "VIVA MEMORIA" , p.289

               The words “viva memoria”, commonly translated as “living memory” or “living memorial”, are both the core and general theme of the charism or spiritual mission of the Redemptoristine Nuns (Order of the Most Holy Redeemer). These words are product of the mystical inspirations of the Venerable Maria Celeste Crostarosa. When Maria Celeste (1696-1755) and St. Alphonsus Liguori (1696-1787) met in 1730 each was at a critical point in life and spiritual development. Alphonsus became a supporter of Maria Celeste and, in turn, her mystical inspirations influenced his effort to found the Redemptorist Congregation. Key elements of her inspired Rule were adapted and appear in various versions of the Redemptorist Rule.

                The words “living memory” first appeared in the rule for contemplative religious life revealed to Maria Celeste. Following her reception of the Eucharist on April 25, 1725, she ‘heard’ these words in her mystical prayer: “…I have been pleased to choose this Institute to be a living memory and image of the works of salvation and love accomplished by my Only-Begotten Son during the thirty-three years he lived as man in this world.” The dynamic concept of “living memory” is a variation on the theme of imitation of Christ as a means of attaining holiness of life and union with God. However, “living memory” moves beyond imitation into personal transformation in Christ. It is a constant and dynamic process by which one is changed interiorly, gradually stripped of the false self, so as to reveal the Christ dwelling within. In accord with the intention of God the Father, this is the Jesus in whose life we were intended to participate by virtue of his Incarnation as a human being. Gradual revelation of the dynamic life of Jesus within the soul makes present in our world and time the person and works of Jesus Christ. According to Maria Celeste, the constant and dynamic personal spiritual process of transformation is accomplished by the power of the Holy Spirit in an environment born of virtue and availability to God in times of silence and solitude.

             Maria Celeste Crostarosa, like St. Alphonsus Liguori, was born in Naples. At the time of these revelations, she was living in Scala, a hill town outside the city, among a community of contemplative nuns following the rule of the Order of the Visitation but not officially attached to them. Maria Celeste’s spiritual director and co-founder of the monastery, Bishop Tommaso Falcoia, was also an advisor to Alphonsus.  In 1730, Bishop Falcoia, uncertain about the reliability and soundness of Maria Celeste’s inspiration for a new institute, requested that Alphonsus visit the monastery, investigate the situation and present his recommendations. After interviewing Maria Celeste and all the sisters who were considering adoption of the rule she proposed, Alphonsus concluded that Maria Celeste’s project was divinely inspired. In further discussions with the nuns he persuaded them to accept the new rule. On the Feast of Pentecost in May 13, 1731 the community began living contemplative monastic life as the Order of the Most Holy Savior (eventually changed to Holy Redeemer). However, the exact text of the rule they would follow remained in dispute.    

              For almost two years the friendship between Maria Celeste and Alphonsus developed. He shared with her his inspiration to found a congregation of priests to serve the poor and most abandoned. His vacillation in the matter seems to have come to an end only when Maria Celeste reported her mystical vision of him as a founder. Alphonsus gathered a few confreres around him and the Congregation of the Most Holy Savior came into being in the guest house of the Scala monastery on November 9, 1732.

             During this period controversy about the exact points of the rule for the new Order was escalating. The principle conflict arose between Maria Celeste and Bishop Falcoia; she favored the original rule as inspired while he proposed changes according to his own views. Alphonsus, wedged between two strong personalities, each of whom called for his allegiance, began to support the Bishop and soundly scolded Celeste. The situation, further complicated by factions within the community of nuns, came to a head in May, 1733 when the Bishop presented an ultimatum to Marie Celeste. She agreed to accept the altered rule and to live by it within community, but she could not agree to accept the Bishop as her spiritual director for life. She was expelled from the monastery, eventually creating a new foundation in the city of Foggia in 1738.

For Maria Celeste, the realization of the living memory of Christ in each nun would be accomplished through development of nine virtues (later increased to twelve by Bishop Falcoia who added faith, hope and love of God): union of hearts and mutual charity, poverty, purity, obedience, humility and meekness of heart, mortification, recollection and silence, prayer, self-denial and love of the cross.

                Studies of the various early (18^th century) versions of the Rule for the Redemptorist Congregation indicate that key elements, especially personal pursuit of the twelve virtues as the means of spiritual transformation were directly influenced by the original rule received by Maria Celeste. By this participation in the life of Jesus, the individual becomes a living memory of the Savior, the active presence of Christ in the world. From an early rule formulation: “…All those called to this Institute are to esteem highly and rejoice in such a calling and are to strive as much as possible to make themselves living copies of that divine model, becoming like the life of the Savior…(Complesso, 1732) The first sentence of a later formulation of the Rule, “The purpose of the new and least Institute…is none other than to imitate, as much as possible with divine grace, this divine Master and model…” (Compendio of Bovino, 1745). Primitive Rule of the Redemptorists begins, “The purpose of the Institute is that of the closest imitation of the most holy life of our Savior Jesus Christ and of his most adorable virtues.” (Text of Conza, 1747) This is the first text of the Rule approved by the Congregation as a whole.  All of these documents express two ends or purposes for the Congregation: to live as Jesus Christ and to be in missionary service of the poor and most abandoned.  

            Other evidence indicates the extent to which the inspiration of living memory influenced early Redemptorist spirituality. In 1741, Alphonsus wrote that Gioacchino Gaudello, the first to die in the Congregation, “…manifested to all the life of Jesus Christ.”  When Vito Curzio, the first brother in the Congregation died in 1745, Redemptorist Giovanni Mazzini eulogized him saying he had “achieved his objective to become a living copy of Jesus Christ.”   

            

             Nonetheless, as Alphonsus earnestly labored to obtain approval in Rome for the Rule of his congregation,  texts clearly began to depart from early versions which retained so much of the flavor of the Rule of Maria Celeste as revised by Bishop Falcoia. In order to receive official approbation of the Rule concessions were made in terms of emphasis and format and primary influences were obscured.

             Today, interpretation of “living memory” is appropriating theological understandings of the Eucharist memoria or memorial of the Mass. In the words of consecration (the institution narrative or anamnesis) not only is the Body and Blood of Jesus made present under the appearance of bread and wine, Jesus Christ and all of the Paschal Mystery are also made present and active among us. We are not merely remembering Jesus’ life and death or imitating the last supper with his disciples. Those events are rendered as living and actively working in their redemptive power for the world in our time. By our presence and expression of faith we too become gifts transformed. The level of participation penetrates even more deeply if the community offers itself along with the gifts of bread and wine, uniting itself with the words of the Eucharistic Prayer III, “Father we bring you these gifts. We ask you to make them holy by the power of your Spirit, that they may become the body and blood of your Son, our Lord Jesus Christ.”

            The theologian, Johannes Metz (1928 - ) wrote that consecrated religious fulfill an important role in the Church. “…They press for the uncompromising nature of the Gospel and of the imitation of Christ. In this sense they are the institutionalized form of a dangerous memory within the Church.” Proclamation of the memory can be dangerous as it may be threatening to the status quo in any institution and to the norms of the surrounding culture. The living memory spoken of here is the dangerous living reminder of God’s redemptive love, of the desire of God to be incarnated in every human being, of a divine reality open for participation by all humanity.

             For Redemptoristine and Redemptorist religious in our time, transformation into the life of Jesus Christ remains primary. The chief means to this end continues to be the ascetical practice of living the virtues of Jesus, living his life, death and Resurrection, the entire Paschal mystery within the community. In this shared charism, community life, human relationship at every level, is the locus of those who would become “viva memoria,” living memories of the generous love of the Redeemer. The invitation of God, to participate in divine life and divine love in such a way as to become a living memory of Jesus Christ is the missionary message of  everyone who promotes the Redemptorist/Redemptoristine charism.

For Reflection

1. To what extent is the imitation of Christ a conscious part of your spiritual practice?
2. How might the ideal of becoming a living memory of Christ be manifest in your own life?
3. How can the connection between living memory and the Eucharist made here enhance understanding of both the Liturgy and practice of the virtues?
4. How has your appreciation of the Redemptorist charism and mission been expanded?

Bibliography

Constitutions and Statutes – Congregation of the Most Holy Redeemer. Rome: General Curia         C.Ss.R., 1982.

Constitutions and Statutes – Order of the Most Holy Redeemer. Rome:1985.

Founding Texts of Redemptorists Early Rules and Allied Documents, edited by Carl Hoegerl.        Rome: Collegio Sant’Alfonso, 1986.

Lage, Emilio. “Suor Maria Celeste Crostarosa e la Congregazione del SS. Redentore,” in La          Spiritualita di Maria Celeste Crostarosa, edited by Sabatino Majorano, 120-131. Materdomini, Italy: Editrice San Gerardo, 1997.

Metz, Johannes. Followers of Christ – Perspectives on the Religious Life. Translated by Thomas    Linton.  Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 1978.

Oppitz, Joseph. The Mystic Who Remembered – The Life and Message of Maria Celeste     Crostarosa, O.Ss.R. Esopus, NY: Redemptoristine Nuns of New York, 2003.

Pleva, Hildegard Magdalen. “A Charism Illumined: Eucharistic Anamnesis and ‘Viva       Memoria’.” Review for Religious 63.1 (2004): 40-52.

Raponi, Santino. The Charism of the Redemptorists in the Church – A Commentary on the             Constitutions. Rome: The Center for Redemptorist Spirituality, 2003.

                                                                        Sr. Hildegard Magdalen Pleva, O.Ss.R. 12/08



Holy Eucharist

Jesus is Made Present

by Our Remembering

Fifth Article of a Series

Stay with us, Lord! (Luke 24:29) With these words, the disciples on the road to Emmaus invited the mysterious Wayfarer to stay with them, as the sun was setting on that first day of the week when the incredible had occurred. According to his promise, Christ had risen; but they did not yet know this. Nevertheless, the words spoken by the Wayfarer along the road made their hearts burn within them. So they said to him, “Stay with us”. Seated around the supper table, they recognized him in the “breaking of bread” – and suddenly he vanished. There remained in front of them the broken bread. There echoed in their hearts the gentle sound of his words.

                        From the Urbi et Orbi Message of John Paul II, 2005

The previous article of this series marking the inauguration of the New Roman Missal offered an account of the Emmaus story. Here the words of Pope John Paul give a reprise of that vignette. With the travelers John Paul says, “Stay with us, Lord”, because Jesus has been recognized “in the breaking of the bread”.

We come to Mass with a burning, a yearning right on the surface or buried deep within, a yearning to meet God, to experience God in an Emmaus-like moment. This is the place, the event, that which is deeper than the words.

During the Mass we remember the life, the passion, death and resurrection of Jesus, the Paschal Mystery. We remember in such a way that what we remember is made present in the gathered community. This kind of remembering is as old as the Hebrews. It is the kind of remembering engaged in at every Passover Seder when the saving acts of God in the Exodus of the Jewish slaves from Egypt is so remembered as to become a felt presence at the Passover table. And notice that this is done at a shared meal. This productive sort of remembering is called ANAMNESIS – your new word for today. In the days before the Nicene Creed to be Christians meant to be faithful to Jesus’ command to celebrate memorial. “Do this in Memory of me.” Luke 33:24-25. For their memorial they joined scripture and readings to the blessing of God for creation and redemption. “However named it has always been part of the church’s grasp of memorial that the mystery remembered becomes a living reality in the lives of those who celebrated it liturgically. For the early writers this was implied in the very idea of symbolic or sacramental representation.” (David N. Power, The Eucharistic Mystery: Revitalizing the Tradition, NY: Crossroad:1994, 488-49).

Celebrations of the Eucharist in which we share today are the occasions in which we call to mind the person and events of our salvation – Jesus Christ and his Paschal Mystery – in such a way that “we” render them living and active in our own time. The “we”, plural pronoun, is operative here. The priest, although in persona Christi, is not acting alone. The gathered community is not merely present or participating by observation. The community gathered for the memorial meal is integral to anamnesis, to recalling and thereby making actively present the person and saving action of the Redeemer. The Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy (Sacrosanctum Concilium) of the Second Vatican Council declared that God’s people gathered for Eucharist “offer the immaculate victim through the hands of the priest but also together with him”. (48)

The Eucharistic prayer emphasizes this integral function by repeated use of the pronoun “we”. We thank you for counting us worthy to stand in your presence and serve you (EPII). We offer you in thanksgiving this holy and living sacrifice (EPIII). We, your people and your ministers, recall his passion, his resurrection from the dead and his ascension into glory (EPI). Indeed, the level of participation penetrates more deeply if the community offers itself along with the gifts of bread and wine and unites itself with the words of Eucharistic Prayer III, “Father we bring you these gifts. We ask you to make them holy by the power of your Spirit, that they may become the body and the blood of your Son, our Lord Jesus Christ. By this collective effort and offering and in light of the concept of Eucharistic anamnesis Jesus becomes uniquely present in the consecrated bread and wine but also actively present in our time and within and among those gathered. And this answers the question; in what way is Jesus Christ made actively present at each Eucharistic celebration? At least in part, Jesus the Redeeming Christ, is made present within those who are united with Him in this memorial.  Each of the four principal Eucharistic prayers includes a prayer of epiclesis invoking the power of the Holy Spirit as the agent of consecration; “let your Spirit come upon these gifts to make them holy”. (EP II) Whether we speak of “gifts” in the translation we will no longer us, or “offerings” as the new Roman Missal translation renders it, we acknowledge that it is by the power of the Holy Spirit that the gifts/offerings are transformed. To the extent that we present ourselves, all that we are – good, bad and indifferent – as gifts/offerings available for transformation by the power of the Holy Spirit, we are asking to be made holy and transformed into the mystery that we celebrate, the mystery of the sacrament of remembrance which is making Jesus present in us and among us.

Incredible, isn’t it. But St. Athanasius said in the 4^th century, “God became man that man might become God.” This is the incredible mystery of the Incarnation which qualifies us to stand in the presence of God and serve God. This is what the lofty words, the unusual vocabulary, the smells and bells, the vestments, gestures, posture, art and stained glass windows, speaking and singing are intended to communicate. Jesus asked us to break the bread as he did in memory of his life, death and resurrection and assured us that he would be there in the bread and the wine, in and among us in the pews and within us working our transformation into other Christs.

The last piece in this series will speak about the implication of the final words of dismissal at Mass. In the new Roman Missal there are three options for this line: “Go forth, the Mass is ended.” “Go and announce the Gospel of the Lord.” Go in peace, glorifying the Lord by your life.” And what could all of that mean?

(For a fuller treatment concerning Eucharistic Anamnesis just type the word 'anamnesis' in the search box to the right.)

The Prodigal Son by Edward John Poynter.

Be Perfect
as Your Heavenly Father
is Perfect: Eucharistic Anamnesis
Informing the Redemptoristine Charism


Reading for Saturday, March 26, 2011
Micah 7:14-15, 18-20
Psalm 103: 1-2, 3-4, 9-10, 11-12
Luke 15: 1-3, 11-32

It has been said that Jesus is the revelation of the Father. So we ask, “And what does he reveal?” Today’s readings give ample evidence of a particular divine skill set. The Father does not persist in anger. The Father delights in clemency. The Father is compassionate, kind and faithful. But the penultimate skill highlighted by the prophet Micah, spoken of in Psalm 103 and illustrated in the Gospel of Luke by Jesus the storyteller – in all of these the overarching skill is that of forgivness. I am not good at this. Anger and resentment cling to me like a wet sheet. I can’t seem to extricate myself from the tangle and all the while I get chilled to the bone, and frozen in my heart. So I am particularly chastened by the last words of Jesus’ affecting parable, “My son, you are with me always, and everything I have is yours. But we had to celebrate and rejoice! This brother of yours was dead, and has come back to life. He was lost and is found.” If this is how I am to become, if this is what it means to “be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect”, I tend to think that I don’t stand a chance.

St. Alphonsus would remind us that we can best conform ourselves to this model of divine forgiveness by means of meditative prayer, participation in the Eucharist and the effort to persevere. Today I would like to focus on the Eucharist which ‘cultivates’ us, loosening the soil of our ingrained habits and thinking, making it possible for grace to flow in and, like a great tsunami, dislodge our default responses of anger and resentment.

How does this happen? The Eucharistic Prayer itself informs and sheds light on the mystical nature of what it is to be a “living memory” of Jesus as expressed by Maria Celeste. And at the same time  it transforms us into that very person whom we remember during the Consecration of the Mass. It is in considering what the memorial of the Mass is – what Eucharistic anamnesis is – that we can shed light on the Eucharist reality.

At the consecration of the Mass not only is the Body and Blood of Jesus made present under the appearance of bread and wine but Jesus and all of the Paschal Mystery are also made present and active among us in this very moment. We are not merely remembering Jesus’ life and sacrifice on the cross. Those events are rendered as living and actively working their redemptive power for the world at this time.

So often during her post-communion meditations Jesus revealed himself to Maria Celeste She wrote:

“One morning after Holy Communion I heard in the very center of my Soul these words of the Credo pronounced: ‘One in being with the Father, through whom all things were made’ -so that filled to overflowing with Divine Gifts, it seemed to me that the Divine Essence was in me...my Lord Jesus Christ…gave me His Divine Heart…in place of my own…I seemed to enter into a new life of love, a life in God.

This passage speaks of a transformation that is not merely an imitative overlay but a participation in the substance, the very essence of Jesus. And it is not static participation just for one moment. It propels her “into a new life of love, a life in God”. In this human participation Jesus, his Paschal Mystery, his work of redemption is made present and active in our time. Gradually these mystical experiences revealed to Maria Celeste the necessity of remembering always, of living a life of remembering, a life of one-ness with Jesus Christ so as to become Christ.

Just as the anamnetic character of the Eucharistic meal was buried over time by layers of theological argumentation concerning the consecratory elements of the Mass, Celeste’s concept of “living memory” suffered from obscurity for over two hundred years. In the 20th century each became the object of a kind of archaeological dig, treasures to be unearthed in the tectonic shifts powered by the Second Vatican Council. We can now appreciate hoe the anamnetic character of the Eucharistic banquet is deeply rooted in ancient Hebrew liturgical tradition. To say that the last supper was merely a commemoration of the Passover event would have been meaningless to the Jewish mind. Jewish scholars tell us that to commemorate and remember is in the Jewish tradition never a mere remembering but always implies a look toward the future and a making present again in real time.

In our Eucharist we call to mind the person and events of our salvation in such a way that we render them living and active in our time. The “we” plural pronoun is operative here. In the various Eucharistic Prayers appear these words:

"We thank you for counting us worthy to stand in your presence and serve you."

"We offer you in thanksgiving this holy and living sacrifice."

"Father, we bring you these gifts. We ask you to make them holy so that they may become the body and blood of your son, our Lord Jesus Christ."

By this collective effort and offering Jesus becomes uniquely present in the consecrated bread and wine but also actively, powerfully present in our time with and among us. In each Eucharistic Prayer the epiclesis invokes the power of the Holy Spirit, the agent of consecration. “Let your Spirit come upon these gifts and make them holy.” We ask that the elements be transformed. But if we place our own selves on the table of the altar we can ask that we too may be may become holy and be transformed into the mystery that we celebrate, the mystery of the sacrament of remembrance. It is in this offering, in this remembering that we become what is being remembered. In this is our one hope for transformation. This is the way of our transformation into the “living memory” of Jesus who reveals the Father and issues the invitation to “be perfect as your heaven Father is perfect. This is the transformative union that makes it possible for us to forgive as we have been forgiven.

Solemnity of the Body and Blood of Christ

"Panis Angelicus"

        Bread of Heaven

Cannot help but continue to refer to this feast as Corpus Christi, the body of Christ. However, the Church guides us to call it the Solemnity of the Body and Blood of Christ because it is a more correct describer of the Eucharist, the gift of his very self - body and blood in the form of bread and wine - given by Jesus to this disciples and to us at his last supper.

My very frist apprehension of this mystery took place at a pre-Vatican II Holy Thursday Mass during the procession taking the Eucharist from the main altar of the church to the Altar of Repose. There it remained for the whole day surrounded by a wall of candles, banks of lilies and golden light, available for reverent adoration by the faithful who would come into the church throughout the day. I was only seven or eight years old. Yet God spoke of His mysterious presence and His love for me in a most intimate way that day. What gift!

With the years I have learned and taken into my heart the essential incorporation of People of God, the assembled congregation actively participating in and necessary in the Eucharist prayers, in the consecration of common bread and wine so that it becomes in the hands of the priest the very Body and Blood of Jesus Christ. So vital is this corporate aspect that priests are no longer encouraged to say 'private' masses. Jesus' inauguration of the Eucharist was not a private affair but rather a communal event. "Do this in memory of me," means the blessing, the memorial, the sharing, and all of it in community. We take part in the transformation. We also can be said to offer ourselves as gifts to be transformed into the "Body and Blood of Christ." The Redemptoristine charism is expressed as dedication to becoming the "Viva Memoria", the "Living Memory" of Jesus Christ.

A few years ago I had a beautiful dream in which I was assisting at the altar as server during a Mass in our monastery. As the priest placed a host into my hand it miraculously multiplied so that I could not contain the overflow of hosts in my two hands. This event seemed a symbol of the utterly gratuitous love of God and the generosity of Jesus in this gift to us.

May the Eucharist and it abiding presence with us in every tabernacle be the force that will unify us as Catholics and, in turn, unify all who hold sacred the name of Jesus Christ.

'Little Christmas' Reflection at Midday Prayer

The Cost of our Redemption

by Sister Paula Schmidt, OSsR - Prioress

“God so loved the world that he gave us his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.” John 3:17.

Jesus loved the Father, and the world so much that he gave us his very self, on Calvary, and in the Eucharist.

Recently I was sitting in the chapel, reflecting on the presence of Jesus in the Tabernacle. Yes, You are there Lord, but you are not limited or contained there, as I am, or any of us here are. We are here and nowhere else, even though our minds might be ranging around the world. The Jesus we adore is present here, and in our whole world, and in the whole universe. And in the Mystery of God.

And how is Jesus present? As love. As the Incarnation of God’s love. As God’s love in human form. This is the One who fills our chapel, and fills each of our hearts and lives.

I don’t know about you but I find that I can become so unaware of that mystery in which we live, unaware of the love that embraces and permeates us. That fact doesn’t seem to change things on God’s part. I don’t believe that Jesus asks us to understand, or comprehend his love. He does hope that we will believe and receive his love.

Jesus was on a Mission during his earthly life. And he is on a Mission still. Jesus set no bounds to what he would be willing to do during his earthly life to live and be God’s love among us. Now Jesus calls all his followers, each of us here, and everyone throughout the world, to live God’s love and be God’s love.

Each Eucharist we celebrate, each Communion we receive, links us with God’s love, and the mission of Jesus today. As individuals we may be very small, very frail, but we are invited into a community of people, and a universe networked in Love, God’s love made ours in Jesus.

Looking around us today we see a world that doesn’t seem to be a world infused with Love, founded on Love, created by Love. Yet our Christian faith, the Christian Story which we believe, assures us that a God of Love is in our midst.

We see a world filled with violence, greed, lust for power, selfishness. The world of Jesus’ time wasn’t much different. In the Incarnation God’s love was made so vulnerable to human indifference and callousness. All the evil in the world of Jesus did its best to destroy him. Ultimately it crucified him. But Jesus’ death wasn’t the end of the story. The Resurrection that followed is The Good News. Death is not the last word for any of us anymore.

Each of us here, as believers in Jesus, and even more as vowed religious, share the work of Jesus to transform our world through Love. We won’t be asked to literally die in the process, as Jesus was, but learning to love as God loves, as Jesus loves, will involve dying. Dying to selfishness, to prejudices, to convenience, to preferences, etc. etc. all in the service of promoting fuller life for all others, and ultimately for ourselves.

God has need of us. The work of Jesus has need of us. We each have a special place in the plan of God. Each 25th of the month, as we celebrate the mystery of the Incarnation, we are reminded of why we are here, and what we are called to do, by the God who came among us and pitched his tent among us, that we might all one day enter fully into the mystery of Love that God is.

In the words of William Blake: “And we are put on earth a little space that we might learn to bear the beams of love.” To bear the beams ourselves, and be bearers of those beams to others, if we let God use us.

A Charism Illumined: Eucharistic Anamnesis Informing 'Viva Memoria'

“You have called me to relive in myself
the Mystery of Jesus…and to be a living memorial of it…”
Constitutions and Statutes Order of the Most Holy Redeemer #87 Formula of Profession

by Sister Hildegard Magdalen Pleva, OSsR

Introduction

The Second Vatican Council (1962-65) energized a life-giving impulse which coursed through the Church. One of the most generative of its instructions directed congregations and orders of religious to reach back into their history, to be guided by scholarly investigation of early texts and archival material and by this effort to reappropriate the original inspirations of their founders. There was great reason to hope that by retrieving its natal charism a community would renew itself. There was even greater hope that the still burning embers of the Spirit’s work could be fanned into flame and the light of its fire would illumine the path ahead in new times and new circumstances.

The Order of the Most Holy Redeemer pursued this directive in company with Redemptorist brothers whose invaluable efforts brought its founder, the Venerable Maria Celeste Crostarosa (1696-1755), into the light. With all of the revealed vivacity of her spirit and mystical experience came rediscovery of the institute’s charism, the life force to be reappropriated by her sisters, the call to be a living memory of the Paschal Mystery of Jesus.

During ten years of association with the Order and two years within the community, conversations with friends, lay associates, religious of other congregations, and visitors to our monastery I have often attempted to explain the subtle nuances of our charism, namely that the heart of the Redemptoristine charism is the call to be a “living memory” of Christ. (Crostarosa, Dialogues, Oppitz Trans. #104, p. 54) Invariably a disclaimer would follow; “But that does not mean mere imitation. It goes beyond that.” And the effort to expand on the “beyond” has always fallen woefully short of communicating the meaning of “living memory.” From this sense of inadequacy was born a search for a way of defining “living memory” that would be appropriately substantial yet comprehensible.

The Eucharistic Connection

With time and within the misty atmosphere of mental conjecture, “living memory” began to merge with the words of Jesus repeated in the Eucharistic Rite, “Do this in memory of me.” Suddenly the overlap was not merely a coincidence of vocabulary. The search drew me toward a concept of Eucharistic theology explored in graduate school. That first appreciation of the principle of Eucharistic anamnesis seemed like a bright star exploding before my eyes, initially blinding in its brightness but then illuminating the entire field of vision. It was explained that at the consecration of the Mass not only is the Body and Blood of Jesus made present under the appearance of bread and wine but that Jesus Christ and all of the Paschal Mystery is also made present and active among us in this present time. We are not merely remembering Jesus’ life and sacrifice on the cross. Those events are rendered as living and actively working in their redemptive power for the world at this moment. That pattern of explanation and disclaimer emerged from the past and coupled with the “living memory” question of the present. Futhermore, it suggested that the concept of anamnesis itself could provide clarification for that of “living memory”.

By connecting “living Memory” with the anamnesis of the Mass, a Eucharistic context for the search began to take shape. The form and features of this context emerged from careful reading of the Dialogues and Autobiography of Maria Celeste in which her post-communion meditation experiences provide a rich vein of evidence.

One morning after Holy Communion I heard in the very center of my
Soul these words of the Credo pronounced: “Consubstantialem Patri perquem
omnia facta sunt,” [One in being with the Father, through whom all things were
made.]so that filled to over flowing with Divine Gifts, it seemed to me that the
Divine Essence was in me…My Lord Jesus Christ…gave me His Divine Heart
which he enclosed in my breast in place of my own…I seemed to enter into a
new life of Love, a life in God.
Autobiography, Capitolo 18 Critical Ed.; p. 43, 1940 English.

This morning…my whole soul was transformed into your very substance.
Dialogues, Oppitz trans. #30, p. 23

Since your soul is the figure of My substance, what really are you within your
spirit, in your very being, if not a living image, a living copy of me… #47, p. 31

After I received Holy Communion…I saw You within me and myself changed
into you…I felt that just one word was being spoken to me, namely, “Substance
of the Father”…This transformation, O Lord of my heart, of my being into Yours, You deigned to make so many times! #125, p. 61

This morning I went to Holy Communion and You transformed me into yourself
so that I entered into the humanity of Your Divine Word and began to sacrifice
myself to the Father for all men. #147, p. 67

You do this precisely by the spirit of observance in terms of your Rule, which
was given by Me so that you might be a viva memoria (a dynamic memory)
of My Life… #104, p. 54

These passages speak of a transformation that is not merely an imitative overlay but a participation in the substance, the very essence of Jesus in which He, in turn, is consubstantial with the Father. Nor is it a static participation but a highly animated one that propels Maria Celeste “into a new life of Love, a life in God”. By such human participation and animation Jesus, His Paschal Mystery, his work of redemption is made present and active in our time. For Maria Celeste the Incarnation of Jesus was the opening of new territory in the relationship between God and humanity, a territory into which she entered with abandon. By partaking of the Eucharist, the essential act of remembering Jesus, she became substantially one with him, not merely an imitation of him. Gradually these mystical experiences revealed to her the necessity of remembering always, of living a life of remembering, a life of ‘oneness’ with Jesus Christ.

Eucharistic Anamnesis

The phenomena of Eucharistic anamnesis and “living memory” each reflect the other. Yet their depth, their power to inform sacramental and spiritual appreciation was lost over time. While the anamnetic character of the Eucharistic meal was buried under weighty, mountainous layers of theological argumentation, “living memory” suffered from the loss to obscurity of Maria Celeste’s mystical experience for over two hundred years. In the 20th century each became the object of a kind of archaeological dig, a treasure to be unearthed in tectonic shifts powered by the Second Vatican Council.

The crucial feature of both anamnesis and “living memory” is the ability to render past events and the person of Jesus present and active in our time. However, offering this explanation and pointing to the connection is not enough. One must ask, “Where does this astounding concept of anamnesis come from?” The answers will more fully illuminate the Redemptoristine charism, and the Cathechism of the Roman Catholic Church gives inquirers a start.

The Eucharist is the memorial of Christ’s Passover, the making present
and the sacramental offering of his unique sacrifice… In all of the Eucharist
Prayers we find after the words of institution a prayer called the anamnesis or memorial. [“Do this in memory of me.”]

In the sense of Sacred Scripture the memorial is not merely a recollection of past events but the proclamation of the mighty works wrought by God for men…they become in a certain way present and real. This is how Israel understands its liberation from Egypt: every time Passover is celebrated, the Exodus events are made present to the memory of believers so that they may conform their lives to them…When the Church celebrates the Eucharist she commemorates Christ’s Passover, and it is made present…As often as the sacrifice of the Cross...is celebrated on the altar, the work of redemption is
carried out. (#1362-1364)

Rooted in Jewish Liturgical Practice

The memorial or anamnetic character of the Eucharistic banquet is not a conceptualization newly minted by post-Vatican II sacramental theology. Rather, it is a theological concept found in the oldest Eucharistic prayers which reflect how the practices of the early Church were deeply rooted in ancient Hebrew liturgical tradition. “The primitive eucharist was a commemoration. Not a commemoration of the last supper, but a commemoration of Christ, and of his saving mysteries. The idea…of a ‘mere’ commemoration (muda commemoratio) would have been meaningless to the Jewish mind.” (Lash, p.44) In 1969, Rabbi Marc Tannenbaum, then director of national inter-religious affairs for the American Jewish Committee and observer at the Second Vatican Council, wrote: “To commemorate and to remember is in the Jewish tradition never a mere memory but always implies a look toward the future and a making present again.” (Breaking Bread, p. 148) The Jewish Passover Seder is the penultimate expression of the Hebrew commemorative meal making present in the real time the mystery of the Passover of the Lord God.

Based upon the work of scholars in Eucharistic theology, among them Louis Bouyer, Louis Ligier, Joachim Jeremias, Jean-Paul Audet and Dom Gregory Dix, an even greater understanding of the origins of the earliest Eucharistic prayers or anaphoras is emerging. The most ancient anaphoras conform in structure to the Jewish prayers said at a fellowship meal, most especially the birkat-ha-mazon, which it was typically anamnetic in character and featured three movements: blessing, thanksgiving and supplication. (Audet in Kline, p. 410) Beyond appreciating the stylistic resemblance of early Eucharistic prayers, it was Dom Gregory Dix who had the insight to consider the sitz-im-Leben, that is, the institutional setting in actual Hebraic practice, which gave specific meaning to these liturgical meal prayers. (Kline, p. 413) Dom Gregory’s insights answered a most basic question: what did Jesus, as a Jew of his time, have in mind; what did he mean when he said, “Do this in memory of me”? “The command of Jesus did not refer to the repetition of a sacral fellowship meal. This could be presumed as fundamental to Jewish religious practice. In other words, Jesus did not have to institute a meal, because the meal was already there. What Jesus did was to invest this meal with a new anamnetic character.” (Kline, p. 414) For the Hebrew of Jesus’ time the Passover meal was not merely “a subjective, human psychological act of returning to the past, but an objective reality” undertaken to make the Passover of the Lord perpetually present before God. (Bouyer, p. 103) “By the power of the Lord of history, those events are in a sense made present in the liturgy, so that the worshippers are living them again in their own lives. A Jewish ritual memorial, therefore, is no mere thinking of the past; it is a memorial filled with the reality of that which it commemorates.” (Moloney, p. 265) This was the anamnetic character of the meal. When Jesus said, “Do this in memory of me” he invested the meal with a new anamnetic object, that is, the Paschal mystery, which is the saving acts of his own life, death and resurrection.

The Implications of Anamnesis for Our Practice

Celebrations of the Eucharist in which we share today are the occasions in which we call to mind the person and events of our salvation – Jesus Christ and his Paschal Mystery – in such a way that “we” render them living and active in our own time. The “we”, plural pronoun, is operative here. The priest, although in persona Christi, is not acting alone. The gathered community is not merely present or participating by observation. The community gathered for the memorial meal is integral to anamnesis, to recalling and thereby making actively present the person and saving action of the Redeemer. The Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy (Sacrosanctum Concilium) of the Second Vatican Council declared that God’s people gathered for Eucharist “offer the immaculate victim through the hands of the priest but also together with him”. (48) The Eucharistic prayer emphasizes this integral function by repeated use of the pronoun “we”. We thank you for counting us worthy to stand in your presence and serve you (EPII). We offer you in thanksgiving this holy and living sacrifice (EPIII). We, your people and your ministers, recall his passion, his resurrection from the dead and his ascension into glory (EPI). Indeed, the level of participation penetrates more deeply if the community offers itself along with the gifts of bread and wine and unites itself with the words of Eucharistic Prayer III, “Father we bring you these gifts. We ask you to make them holy by the power of your Spirit, that they may become the body and the blood of your Son, our Lord Jesus Christ. By this collective effort and offering and in light of the concept of Eucharistc anamnesis Jesus becomes uniquely present in the consecrated bread and wine but also actively present in our time and within and among those gathered. And this answers the question; in what way is Jesus Christ made actively present at each Eucharistic celebration? At least in part, Jesus the Redeeming Christ, is made present within those who are united with Him in this memorial. In remembering, we become what is remembered. Just as the anamnetic character of our Eucharist is rooted in an ancient religious ritual, appreciation of the effect of anamnesis is imbedded in our history. Saint Fulgentius of Ruspe, bishop (467-533CE), speaking of the obligation of the faithful to fulfill the words of the Savior at the Last Supper wrote, “Thus they drink the Lord’s cup by preserving the holy bond of love; without it, even if a man should deliver his body to be burned, he gains nothing. But the gift of love enables us to become in reality what we celebrate as mystery in the sacrifice.” (Liturgy of the Hours, p. 379)

Alexander Schmemann, the late Russian Orthodox scholar of liturgy, wrote about the power of anamnetic memory in his work The Eucharist – Sacrament of the Kingdom. His words are so eloquently reminiscent of the Constitutions of the Order of the Most Holy Redeemer that they must be quoted at length.

…in Christ…memory comes to reign and is restored as a lifecreating power, and, in remembering, man partakes not of the experience of the fall… but of the overcoming of this fall through “life everlasting.” For Christ himself is the incarnation and the gift to mankind of God’s memory in all its fullness…


The essence of our faith and the new life granted in it consists in Christ’s memory, realized in us through our memory of Christ. From the very first day of Christianity, to believe in Christ meant to remember him and keep him always in mind. … From the very beginning the faith of Christians was memory and remembrance, but memory restored to its life creating essence – for… this new memory is a joyous recognition of the one who was resurrected, who lives and therefore is present and abides… Faith eternally knows that the one who is remembered lives… The remembrance of Christ is the entry into his love, making us brothers and neighbors, “brethren” in his ministry. His life and presence in us and “among” us is certified only by our love for each other and for all who God has sent into, has included in our life, and this means above all in the remembrance of each other and in the commemoration of each other in Christ. Therefore, in bringing his sacrifice to the altar, we create the memory of each other, we identify each other as living in Christ and being united with each other in him. (Schmemann, p.128-30)

The Constitution and Statutes of the Order of the Most Holy Redeemer in its section on the Liturgy asserts again and again this understanding of Eucharistic meal as the agent of “living memory”.
The Church continues to make present this Memorial of the Passover of the Lord, a living bond of love between Christians and a pledge of future glory. (#37) …Our liturgical celebrations must give witness at one and same time to the holiness of the Lord and to His loving presence among us. (#40) …This silent contemplation, maintained in faith and love in the depth of the soul, allows us a personal experience of God and also permits us to enter fully into the plan of Redemption. (#42) …We allow Christ to relive His Mystery in us by contemplating Him in the whole of His life.

Participation in the Memorial by the Power of the Holy Spirit

The scope of this paper does not permit lengthy discussion concerning the history of
debate regarding consecratory elements of the Liturgy of the Eucharist. While the Church in the
west has long held to the words of institution, “this is my body…this is my blood” of the narrative of Jesus’ last supper narrative, as the consecratory formula, the Church of the east has always pronounced the epiclesis, the prayer of the invocation of the Holy Spirit, as the essential moment of consecration. Again it is Alexander Schmemann who calls the debate back to order. “Despite hundreds of treatises written in response to this question, neither academic theological nor liturgical studies has given, alas, a satisfactory answer…We cannot ‘break through’ to the genuine meaning, embedded in the very experience of the Church, of the eucharist as the sacrament of remembrance.” (Schmemann, p.192-3)

Although today Roman Catholic teaching declares the entire Eucharistic Prayer as consecratory, the very existence of the old debate serves as a reminder to renew our attentiveness to the work of the Spirit. This attentiveness is particularly essential to appreciating the implications of belief in the anamnetic character of the Eucharistic memorial. Each of the four principal Eucharistic prayers includes an epiclesis invoking the power of the Holy Spirit as the agent of consecration; “let your Spirit come upon these gifts to make them holy”. (EP II) By these words we acknowledge that it is by the power of the Holy Spirit that the gifts are transformed. In these words we ask that we too may become holy and transformed into the mystery that we celebrate, the mystery of the sacrament of remembrance.

For Redemptoristines the vocabulary of anamnesis: memory, remember, remembrance, recall, memorial, should be like music to the ears. The charism to be a “living memory” of Jesus was revealed to our foundress during post-communion meditations in which she experienced the transformative power of the Eucharist accomplished through the work of the Spirit. Her daughters are to be transformed into the “living memory” by participation in the Eucharistic banquet, which was from the beginning an exercise of memory. By our act of remembering we participate in the transformation of the Eucharistic elements into the Body and Blood of Jesus and, in turn, we are transformed into the very life which we remember. In addition, the Jesus of Maria Celeste’s mystical experiences also asked, “You shall take on a memory of My life in each hour [of the day] …I shall be the lamp of all your activities and you shall eat the living food of eternal life which was contained in the works of My life while I was a pilgrim on earth. This is the spirit of the Institute: the viva memoria and My imitation just as I lived among you.” (Dialogues,#104-105, p. 54-55). Elsewhere this level of attentive remembering is referred to as the fixed gaze. To the degree that the daughters of Celeste are recollected to this fixed gaze, their very lives take on an anamnetic character; their lives become capable of rendering the Paschal Mystery present and active in real time.

In this way our very lives become the “living Memory” of Jesus. Our acts of memory, in so far as they are facilitated by the Holy Spirit, render us not only spiritual people (pneumatikos) but also bearers of the Spirit (pneumatophoros), living epiclesis. (Bianchi, p.162) By our lives we call down the power of the Holy Spirit into every corner of the world and the troubled psyche of humanity.

The original question concerned the deeper meaning of a charism, which is an invitation to be a “living memory” of Jesus Christ, to make the person of Jesus present in our world in a manner that goes beyond any imitation. Our Eucharistic liturgies are “pregnant with reality”, a reality called for in the anamnesis, the appeal of Jesus in his last supper to “Do this in memory of me.” (The Study of Liturgy, p.14) Jesus, the incarnation of the memory of God, is asking us to become, in turn, the incarnation of his memory in our world. The words of Maria Celeste express self-affirmation and encourage her community today:

Now that your sacred Humanity, united to the Word of God,
has been glorified…It gives me such a risen life in God that it transforms
me into the eternal life of God, as I await the dawning of that new day,
which will make me blessed for all eternity.
Florilegium, p. 95, Crostarosa, Exercise of Love for Every Day

If we have it in our power to make present and active the saving work of Jesus by our remembering, the quality of that remembering, our awareness of and presence to it, becomes so much more vital. Appropriation of the anamnesis as metaphor for “living memory” raises the volume and imperative of the call to be contemplatives. For Redemptoristines, for all contemplatives, or those who would live their active lives in a more contemplative fashion, the concept of Eucharistic anamnesis suggests an ordering of ones’ life in a way conducive to remembering, to being recollected to the person, life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Almost fifty years ago Thomas Merton declared, “In the night of our technological barbarism, monks must be as trees which exist silently in the dark and by their vital presence purify the air.” (Merton, p .124) Just as the trees of the forest breathe transforming life into the world, our conscious and active “living memory” is co-creator with the divine breath of the Spirit of the saving presence of Jesus in our time. Appreciation of the anamnetic power of our “living memory” is impetus for the life and work of contemplation.

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