Winter 1987, Vol. 39, pp. 331-348.

Daniel A. Helminiak:
      Catholicism's Spiritual Limbo: A Shift in "Incarnational" Spirituality

Historical differences in understanding and relating to Jesus as the Incarnate Word lead to significant tensions for contemporary Christians whose spirituality remains suspended in 'limbo.'

Daniel A. Helminiak, O.M.I., professor of theology at the Oblate School of Theology, San Antonio, Texas is completing work on a second doctorate at the University of Texas at Austin. His recent book, Spiritual Development, was published by Loyola University Press in 1987.

ROMAN Catholicism of the 1980s is suspended in a state of transition. We are living in a spiritual limbo. There is no consensus about what "Catholic" piety means today, and forces push in both directions: Go forward! Go backward! Respond to the signs of the times! Maintain traditional practices! Differences of opinion sometimes even become belligerent, and the Church seems to be splitting down the middle.

When the priest faced the altar and prayed in Latin, mass had more of an awe of mystery and seemed more like a sacrifice offered up to a Sovereign God. Now, with the priest facing the people and with other ministers exercising their role in the ceremony, mass seems more like a social event, a banquet of God's family. Lent used to be a time of self-denial, a time for imposing penances on oneself and for practicing self-discipline. Now, one makes a commitment to contribute to the poor or to develop a talent or to volunteer some service. Retreats used to be silent affairs, dedicated to personal prayer, reading, and reflection. More recently they have included discussions, prayer groups, evening socials, lots of free time, and even political strategy-planning sessions.

How should it be? Which approach is right? What is "Catholic?" Should little girls and boys dress in special clothes and have a special liturgy at First Holy Communion, or should they receive First Communion at a private home liturgy or with their families at a regular Sunday mass? Should seminarians and religious be trained in rural isolation, forbidden to read newspapers, watch TV, see movies, or have family and emotional attachments? Or should they be trained in urban centers, be involved in active ministries, and have a social life with friends outside the religious community? Should nuns wear habits and priests Roman collars to set them off from others and mark them publicly as dedicated to God? Or should they dress like other citizens of the world and be different only because of their religious commitment and apostolic works?

Certainly, no easy answers to these questions are available. But attention to history can at least clarify the nature of the present malaise. Accordingly, this essay is a study in contrasts. For a telling case in point, it focuses on the seventeenth century Sisters of the Incarnate Word -- founded in December, 1639, in Avignon, France, by Jeanne Chezard de Matel (1596-1670) -- and highlights the differences in a former and a present understanding of "incamational spirituality." For if "incamational" spirituality is a major concern today, the meaning of "incarnation" has changed. And since the themes in this study are the same ones entangled in the spiritual limbo in current Roman Catholicism, it is relevant to the whole Catholic community. My hope is that it will help Catholics to understand where they have come from, what they are called to, and what is at stake in the tensions in contemporary Catholicism.


An overview of the contrast between seventeenth and late-twentieth century understandings will set the stage for a more detailed exploration. In the seventeenth century the concern was the Incarnate Word; today the concern is the Incarnation. The emphasis then was on God present among us; the emphasis today is on the human Jesus Christ. The seventeenth century response to the mystery of the Incarnate Word was adoration; the appropriate activity was servitude. The result was a certain demeaning of self in the face of the exaltation of God. The twentieth century response to the Incarnation is the optimistic embrace of our common human condition; the appropriate activity is self-assertiveness, self-development, and service in this world.

Although these contrasts are drawn in stark form, the identification of the basic values in each position is accurate. It is ironic that focus on one and the same Christian mystery can have such opposite effects. On one hand, it results in deemphasizing the importance of this world and exalting the otherworldly. On the other, it results in legitimating concern for this world and its fulfillment and deemphasizing the other-worldly.


To appreciate this irony better, consider first the so-called French School of Spirituality, which presents the best-known synthesis of christology and spirituality. The school colored Roman Catholic spirituality in the age of Jeanne de Matel and highly influenced her and the centuries that followed, until the midtwentieth century.

Cardinal Pierre de Berulle (1575-1629) was the founder of "the French School." His devotion was so focused on Christ as Godbecome-human that Pope Urban VIII called him Apostolus Verbi Incarnati, The Apostle of the Incarnate Word.(1) Berulle wanted to emphasize Christ both in his greatness and in his abasement.(2) Berulle's contribution here was significant. It represents an advance over previous approaches, for Berulle reverenced Jesus not just in his humanity but in his entirety, in the mystery of the Incarnation, in the unity of humanity and divinity. Still, Berulle's notion of humanity was not lofty. The Word's acceptance of humanity represented an abasement, a self-surrender, a renunciation of self, a humiliati.)n, a servitude -- all terms used by Berulle himself. Here the main thrust of the spirituality of the French School is already foreshadowed.

The theology behind his spirituality was elaborate and profound. According to traditional theology, Christ's humanity has no existence of its own but is real only as assumed by the Word. That which actualizes the humanity of Christ is none other than the existence of the Eternal Word itself. Only if this is so can it be said that the Word truly became human and that Christ's humanity is tn;ly the humanity of the Word. The Humanity of Christ is nothing apart from the Divine Word.

From this theological fact Berulle drew an astonishing conclusion: in Christ the humanity is in a state of subservience to the divinity. Of course there is a logical fallacy in this position. In order to conceive subservience of Christ's humanity in the Word, one must imagine that the humanity already somehow exists by itself apart from the Word -- the very point that the theological fact explicitly denies. Moreover, there is also a theological error in this position. Christ's humanity is not predicated of the divine nature, divinity, and so should not be conceived as subservient to Christ's divinity. As the Council of Ephesus taught, Christ's humanity is predicated of a particular subject, a specific individual, Eternal-Word -- a particular hypostasis or "person" (to use the term canonized at Chalcedon). In technical terms, the union in Christ is hypostatic, not monophysite. The union results when a particular divine Subject, Eternally-Begotten, becomes human; it does not result because humanity and divinity somehow fuse. In any case, Benzlle maintained that Christ's humanity is "essentially in a state of servitude and remains in this state permanently and perpertually... by reason of its very nature and condition."(3)

To Berulle the implication for Christian living was obvious: in imitation of the subservience in Christ, the Christian must take on an attitude of servitude to Christ. The Christian is to become completely empty of self. For according to Berulle, the human is "the most vile and useless creature of all, indeed, as dust, mud, and a mass of corruption."(4) One can overcome this sinful state only by total surrender of self, heroic self-renunciation. Berulle uses the term "annihilation." One must hold on to nothing of self.

Berulle elaborates on the meaning of annihilation, the proper relation to Christ, by use of two terms: abnegation and adherence. Abnegation implies that one has no self left. One gives up all authority over self, all moral decision-making. Like the bread of the consecrated host, one is wholly lost in Christ. Adherence implies that one reproduce in oneself the mysteries that is, the states or dispositions -- of Christ during his life on earth. Berulle's teaching about adherence to the "states" of Christ constitutes the profound and elaborate practical core of his spirituality. But, the important point to be noted here is that the fundamental disposition to be imitated is servitude.

In fact, however, Berulle had worked out this spirituality before he elaborated its christological basis. His position was really more sociological than theological. Berulle was a product of his own age. Highly influenced by sixteenth and seventeenth century deference to monarchs, well aware of the honor due to kings and princes, Berulle projected the same attitudes onto spirituality. He held that the most fundamental of all virtues was religion, that is, proper reverence for God. In brief, religion requires two attitudes: a very low esteem of all creatures, especially of oneself, and a very high idea of God.

The spirit and letter of this spirituality is obvious in the text of Berulle's "Vow of Servitude":

With this desire, I make to thee, O Jesus my Lord, and to thy deified humanity, a humanity truly thine in its deification, and truly mine in its humiliation, in its sorrows, in its sufferings: to thee and to it I make an oblation and entire gift absolute and irrevocable, of all that I am through thee in being, by nature and in the order of grace .... I leave myself then wholly to thee, O Jesus, and to thy sacred humanity, in the most humble and binding condition which I know, the condition and relation of servitude; which I acknowledge to be due to thy humanity as much on account of the greatness of the state to which it is raised through the hypostatic union, as on account of the excess of voluntary abasement to which it became reduced and humbled for my salvation and glory, in its life, its cross, and in its death .... To this end and this homage I set and place my soul, my state, and my life, both now and for ever in a state of subjection and in relations of dependence and servitude in regard to thee and to thy humanity thus deified and thus humiliated together.(5)


Another example of the teaching of the French School is the writings of Jean Jacques Olier (1608-1657), a disciple of Cardinal Berulle. In 1642 Olier founded the Society of St. Sulpice, dedicated to the education of zealous priests. This religious association was responsible for the establishment of seminaries in France, Canada, and the United States. "Sulpician spirituality," a product of the French School, became the norm for the spiritual formation of seminarians until the Second Vatican Council. Thus seventeenth-century spirituality is still living and thriving among us. Olier offered the following spiritual advice:

It is necessary for the soul to be in fear and distrust of self; it must testify to this distrust by avoiding occasions and encounters in which it may satisfy the heart by love and delight in some creature. It should make its pleasure and joy depend on sacrificing to Jesus all joy and pleasure which it may have apart from himself. And when taking part in those things in which by Providence it is obliged to be occupied, such as eating, drinking, and conversation with creatures, it must be sparing in all, must discard what is superfluous, and must renounce, in the use of them, the joy and pleasure to be found therein, uniting and giving itself to Jesus as often as it feels itself tempted to enjoy something apart from him and not himself.(6)
An older understanding that resurfaces annually in Lenten practices is obvious here.

How strange it seems to the contemporary mind that concern for the Incarnation would be linked with so mean and low an estimation of humanity. However, close attention to the mentality of the seventeenth century shows that incarnational concern there was not really for the human but for the divine. Berulle and his contemporaries looked on Jesus not so much as human but more as God. So they could say, "There is nothing in him (Jesus) which does not deserve homage, honor, deep reverence and submission from all creatures in heaven, on earth, and in hell .... It is the most essential act and exercise of religion, the first obligation of the creature towards God, the chief duty of the Christian toward Jesus Christ our Savior."(7) For all practical purposes, for the French School "Incarnate Word" was a term simply interchangeable with "God."


These same emphases -- apart from so obvious a demeaning of the human -- occur in the thought of Jeanne de Matel. They also color the spirituality of the order she founded, the Sisters of the Incarnate Word, and that order thus provides us with a seventeenth-century example of "incarnational spirituality."

Throughout her writings Jeanne shows evidence of a Trinitarian basis for her piety. She often refers to the Father and the Holy Spirit and to their work in her. Yet her devotion undoubtedly focuses on the Son and precisely as Incarnate Word. With John's Gospel in mind -- "No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him" (6:44; cf. 6:65)(8) -- Jeanne felt that the Father had attracted her to the Son. The Incarnate Word became the center of her spirituality.

The theological inadequacy of this understanding should be noted at the outset. This understanding forgets that the Son and the Holy Spirit are the agents of the Father, and so it inverts the ordinary Trinitarian order of grace: in the Spirit, through the Son, and to the Father. If the Father draws us, it is by the gift of the Holy Spirit and through the Son that He draws us -- and He draws us, ultimately, to Himself! This subtle difference in theological emphasis has important implications. When the Father does the leading and the Son is the goal, "Son" becomes but another name for "God," and the this-worldly importance of the Incarnation is obscured. As we shall see, practical consequences follow.

Just as in the thought of the French School, for Jeanne "Incarnate Word" thus did not imply Jesus, a fellow human like ourselves, but rather God, and God precisely as present to us. "...what stands out by far in the spiritual life and experience of the Servant of God is the Incarnation as the gift of the Word to his creature, rather than the human countenance with which the Only-begotten Son appeared among us."(9) This understanding of Incarnate Word was confirmed for Jeanne in a prayer experience in 1629 when there was again some question about what to name her order. The message she heard was this: "The name which I wish you to ask for is: Incarnate Word, since this name embraces in an eminent way all that refers to Me as Uncreated Word."(10) Note that the emphasis is on the divinity, the uncreated Word. "Properly speaking, the core of the charisma of the Institute is not the Incarnation as such, but the very Word made flesh."(11)

Quite rightly, then, the main purpose of Jeanne's order would be adoration:(12) "to honor the Incarnation and the Passion of the Lord," "to honor with particular worship the Incarnate Word."(13) Here is the first of those practical consequences. For Jeanne adoration of the Incarnate Word was central to cosmic history.(14) First, the Son had become incarnate precisely so that he could be introduced to the adoration of all creatures. Secondly, Jeanne understood Hebrews 1:6 -- "Let all God's angels worship him" -- to relate to the story of the fallen angels. According to this understanding, their sin was refusing to adore the Incarnate Word. In contrast, Jeanne's order would be dedicated to adoration of the Incarnate Word. And on this understanding liturgy would be a matter of worshiping God in awe and mystery, not a matter of God's sons and daughters gathering in a family banquet of praise.

Jeanne understood her total surrender to God in terms of a mystical marriage. In her mind the first point of reference for such an espousal was the Incarnation wherein the Word united himself to a human nature in the womb of the Virgin Mary.(15) Jeanne's understanding of virginity, closely related to the notion of mystical marriage, also provides another link with the Incarnation. For the Father generated the Eternal Word virginally, and Mary likewise conceived and bore the Incarnate Word virginally. Moreover, virginity is a special gift given to the Beloved Disciple and to others whom God wishes to unite to himself in spousal love. In her own case, Jeanne's response to the perceived call to virginity was, "O Love, you call me; I am yours forever. I do not wish to belong to anyone but you."(16) Note that Jeanne's relationship to the Incarnate Word as spouse and virgin is an expression of the virtue of religion; that is, here again Incarnate Word means nothing more than God.

His devotion to the Incarnate Word completely spiritualizes the physicalness, bodiliness, humanness, of the Word Incarnate, Jesus Christ. Such a "mystical" understanding of religious life would require that religious, seminarians, and priests be separated from the world because of their consecration to God. Here is another of those practical consequences of a seventeenth-century theology.

Even Jeanne's devotion to St. Joseph focuses on the divine aspect of the Incarnate Word. Jeanne reverences Joseph because he lived in God's presence. "In the devotional world of Mere de Matel, St. Joseph appears to be totally illumined by the grace of the Incarnation. In him the long dynasty of the patriarchs culminates, since he was called to a continual familiarity with the Incarnate Word."(17) The image of Joseph projected here seems more proper to heaven than to earth. Again the telling contrast is obvious.

Some sense of self-debasement, emphasized in the French School, comes through in Jeanne's initial intention to name her order the "Daughters or Religious of Jesus the Lamb."(18) The idea was to honor the Son of God and the Immaculate Virgin Mary under the title of Lamb, and emphasis would be placed on innocence and the blood of the Passion. Though this title was abandoned, the ideas recur in Jeanne's visions about the habit her sisters were to wear. The white of the habit was to symbolize innocence, and the red or purple, the passion. Even Jeanne thought that wearing a purple habit would elicit ridicule, but the response her heart brought from the Lord was this: "'My spouses would share my scorn and suffering in order to be more conformed to Me.' Jeanne's generous reaction was, 'Love, true Spouse of my soul, grant us the grace to be vested entirely in your crucified Self.'"(19) The underlying understanding was that any suffering at all, even deliberately provoked persecution, is valuable in itself. The facts that Jesus suffered only because of his honest ministry and that his human virtue even unto death, and not his death itself, is what redeemed us, are overlooked.(20)

How different the seventeenth century concern for religious habits and symbolic titles is from the priorities of the contemporary religious world! Yet these seventeenth-century understandings are still invoked today to insist on the appropriateness of distinctive garb for religious and priests.

According to Jeanne's understanding, her Institute would be "an extension of the admirable Incarnation."(21) This theme of extension of the Incarnation is recurrent in Jeanne's writings.(22) By it she means that the Institute is called upon to cultivate among his people a sense of the Risen Lord's presence until the end of time, and "the new religious family was called to attract the whole Church to an intense communion with the Incarnate Word."(23) Note another practical consequence of seventeenth-century concerns. Even as extension of the Incarnation, the focus of Jeanne's order was not, as one might expect today, to continue Jesus' ministry to a people lost like sheep without a shepherd (Mk. 6:34). The order's focus was rather to bring all to adore God, the Incarnate Word. For, as already noted, according to Jeanne's understanding, the very purpose of the Incarnation was to enable all creatures to worship the Word.(24) So the primary role of religious should be to worship God and not to transform the world in expectation of the Reign of God -- that same contrast again.

The official name of Jeanne's order is "Congregation of the Incarnate Word and Blessed Sacrament."(25) Adoration of the Incarnate Word in the Blessed Sacrament is a central focus of the order. But in the earliest documents that describe the Institute, there was no mention of the Eucharist. Emphasis on eucharistic devotion resulted from the influence of the Duchess de la Rocheguyon, who in 1629 was founding patron of the order's house in Paris. Personal piety and political influence, not ministerial needs, often determined the character of religious orders in those days. Yet this eucharistic devotion squared well with Jeanne's own personal piety and was completely integrated into the identity of her order.(26) For Jeanne the Blessed Sacrament offers the way of encountering the Incarnate Word. In the eucharist the Incarnate Word is present. He is there to be adored. He unites himself in communion with his spouses. And through them he extends his presence in the Church and the world. On the basis of these understandings, this order dedicated to the Incarnation was also committed to adoration of the Blessed Sacrament on the altar. What today would call for a this-worldly focus resulted in the seventeenth century in an other-worldly practice. And today's First Holy Communion customs are caught between the two.

However, it would be grossly unfair to suggest that Jeanne de Matel's order had no sense of apostolic mission and ministry. No Christian foundation could wholly neglect the command to love neighbor as well as to love God. At stake is a matter of emphasis. Unlike clearly apostolic institutes, the Sisters of the Incarnate Word were not founded to meet a specific practical need. They were to be an enclosed order, cloistered. Yet from the very beginning an apostolic mission was part of Jeanne's vision for her order: the education of youth.(27) Jeanne wanted her sisters to serve the Church through their prayer of intercession and through the example of their meekness, which can bring sinners to conversion. But they would also serve through an apostolic ministry. So integral was this ministry to Jeanne's conception of the order that, in addition to the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, and a fourth vow of enclosure, her sisters would take a fifth vow, not to suppress the order's apostolic activity. Despite the pervasive influence of the seventeenth century on Jeanne's piety, this holy woman maintained a remarkable sense of balanced Christianity. She insisted on an aspect of religious life that has become a main focus in the twentieth century.


The prevalent understanding of Jesus today is different from that of the seventeenth century. Historical-critical research method, developed in the mid-nineteenth century and applied to the New Testament in the twentieth, and further understanding of humanness and especially of human subjectivity, have provided new understanding of Jesus, the Incarnate Word.(28) Only a brief summary of these contemporary issues can be presented here.

Whereas a former theology emphasized Jesus' divinity, contemporary interest emphasizes Jesus' humanity. For the Eternal Word gave up divine life and became like us in all things but sin. So Jesus is not rightly understood as limitless and eternal. Rather, he lived as a particular human being, confined to one human life, conditioned by the times and culture that were his own. Today people are interested in how he lived that life of his.

Critical scholarship shows that Jesus determined his own life. He had to live his life from day to day, taking responsibility for it as he went along, just as humans must. He did not know all things. He himself admitted as much (Mk. 13:32). Talk of a "plan of God" resulted from reflection after the fact. Jesus had no script to follow. Rather, his life wrote the drama and revealed the plan about which Christians now speak. Like all human beings, he had to work out his life day by day as he went along. He was absolutely free in all his decisions. Where his life would lead was his to decide. That Jesus always did the will of the Father and so was sinless only means that in every instance he responded as one ought. His life was not fore-planned.

Jesus came to glory through his resurrection. Contemporary christology focuses on that. Before the resurrection Jesus appeared to be an ordinary human being like all others. So the Incarnation gives no cause to highlight Jesus' divinity and exalt him as God. Rather, in the contemporary mind the Incarnation raises the question, How will Jesus live out his human life, unique in all of history?

Finally, contemporary understanding of Jesus requires a balanced trinitarian theology.(29) A former age conceived Jesus basically as God and so tended to funnel the whole of Christianity into the figure of Christ and for most practical purposes retained the Trinity in name only. But when the work of Jesus Christ is understood as limited to one human life in a particular time and place, the specific work of the Holy Spirit, guiding people throughout all times and in every place, appears more critical. Then empahsis falls on responsible living in this world in one's own place and time. One looks to divine inspiration through the mission of the Holy Spirit to help follow Christ and so know the Father.(30) The Holy Spirit is our immediate saving contact with God. Only in the Spirit do we know Christ and in Christ share the life of the Father. The Christian moves in the Spirit through Christ to the Father.


This new understanding of Jesus could not help but change the understanding of how Christian life is to be lived.(31) Making Jesus the model, as every Christian age does, contemporary Christians still speak of incarnational spirituality.(32) But now the term emphasizes this-worldliness, en-fleshment. Weaving together new theological insights and the major preoccupations of contemporary culture, incarnational spirituality today takes on a new look.

Well aware that the Word-become-flesh surrendered all divine prerogatives and lived a completely human life, contemporary Christians value their own humanness. Historical awareness leads them to prize individuality -- Eignetumlichkeiten (33) Each one is him- or herself. None is any other. Each must live as that one's particular time, place, and circumstances require. Diverse cultures and different social circumstances become central to spirituality.(34) It is by being oneself, here and now, as no one else could be, that one follows Jesus and comes to eternal life.

The psychological emphases of contemporary culture insist that the human is good, noble, worthwhile. Theology agrees: in Jesus humanity was the means of redemption of the world. Our human state is not base or vile. If fallen, we were created good and have been redeemed.(35) So every aspect of our humanity is important to spiritual growth. Feelings are good; they are guideposts in our life. So we are open to anger and joy, sadness and fear. Our dreams also provide another access to our deep inner life.(36) Our bodies are good; they are a source of pleasure and beauty and our means of involvement in God's world. Sexuality is not to be denied but rather integrated into the personality.(37) Then virginity takes on a positive connotation. The mind is also a good gift from God, so one should not be afraid to think and study and question and wonder. To just "take it on faith," to deny one's curiosity, to cast down one's eyes, to sacrifice one's dreams -- today this appears irreligious.(38)

Contemporary psychology also emphasizes development, so spiritual growth is a major concern in contemporary spirituality.(39) Holiness takes time, and with life it follows a process. Its expression at every stage of life may be different.(40) How one should be or not be, may change as life moves on. So contemporary awareness of the individuality of each person combines with an appreciation of the developmental process of life and reminds us that holiness is very much a matter of being in this world, being present, here and now.

But responsible presence in this world makes many demands, especially as we learn more about ourselves and our world. Jesus'command, "Love one another," takes on new meaning as we understand human relationships better. Through relationships we grow.(41) Sharing deep feelings is important. The issue of "particular friendships," so much discouraged in past convent and monastic life, needs to be rethought.(42) At the same time, concern for our actual physical and social world must also be a part of Christian responsibility.(43) Commitment to earth, air, water, economy, justice, and peace are all part of holiness today. Though we still believe deeply in prayer, talk about spirituality no longer focuses simply on prayer; we do not expect prayer to transform the world without our involvement in its political order.


Despite obvious continuity, the spirituality of the seventeenth century and that of today also show remarkable contrast. Though both in one way or another are based on the Incarnation, different theological understandings and different cultural preoccupations make them both very different spiritualities. In a survey as brief as this one, it is difficult to give adequate attention to the nuances of each. It may have appeared that the seventeenth century was wholly given over to the other-worldly and demeaned all life in this world, and that the contemporary approach is wholly concerned about this-worldly life and selfdevelopment and forgets others and the life to come. Obviously, such a stark and mutually exclusive contrast is false. In its own way every culture finds a way to include all that is part of the complete religious picture. Yet the emphases change. This is what should be noted here. For a shift in emphasis significantly accounts for the malaise in contemporary Roman Catholicism.

Whereas contemporary Catholics would tend to identify with Jesus, seventeenth-century Catholics might tend to adore him from afar. Whereas we might get involved in the world, renewing its ecological and social structures, others might think to shun the world and its sordidness and pray to God for its conversion. Whereas we might be intent on determining our own lives, others might wish to annihilate their wills and relinquish moral authority. Whereas we might work for complete integration and lucid authenticity, others might rely on the value of loyalty and strictest obedience. Whereas we might invest and spend ourselves, championing worthwhile social projects, others might find self-sacrifice by provoking social rejection, emphasizing their specific religious identity. Whereas we might develop our talents and stand tall in our contribution, others might deny their uniqueness, efface themselves, and become insignificant. While the outcomes might be different, the reasons, at least in words, might be ultimately the same. Both might appeal to some understanding of the Incarnation. Precisely such contrasts, grounded in seventeenth- and late twentieth-century theology, significantly explain the spiritual limbo of Roman Catholicism today.

  1. The Oxford Dictionary of the Christian Church, ed. F. L. Cross (London: Oxford University Press, 1971), p. 162.
  2. Pierre Pourrat, Christian Spirituality, vol. III, trans. W. H. Michell (New York: P. J. Kenedy, 1927), pp. 335-47.
  3. Berulle, Oeuvres completes, pp.181,182-85, as cited in Jordan Aumann, History of Spirituality (Pasay, Metro Manila: Daughters of St. Paul, 1979), p. 246.
  4. Berulle, Oeuvres completes, p. 880, as cited in Aumann, Ibid., pp. 244-45.
  5. Berulle, Grandeurs de Jesus, Discourse II, as cited in David A. Fleming, The Fire and the Cloud: An Anthology of Catholic Spirituality (New York: Paulist Press, 1978), pp. 269-70.
  6. Olier, Journée chrétienne, Part 1, in Fleming, Ibid., pp. 272-73.
  7. Bourgoing, Preface aux Oeuvres du Card. de Berulle, in Oeuvres completes, p. 86, Fleming, Ibid., pp. 270-71.
  8. John M. Lozano, Jeanne Chezard de Matel and the Sisters of the Incarnate Word, trans. Joseph Daries (Chicago: Claret Center for Resources in Spirituality, 1983), pp. 41, 17.
  9. Ibid., p. 42.
  10. Ibid., p. 70.
  11. Ibid., p. 72.
  12. Ibid., pp. 78-80.
  13. Ibid., p. 71.
  14. Ibid., p. 75.
  15. Ibid., pp. 15-16.
  16. Ibid., pp. 12-13.
  17. Ibid., p. 23.
  18. Ibid., p. 70.
  19. Ibid., p. 20 Mother Saint Pierre of Jesus, Life of the Reverend Mother Jeanne Chezard de Matel, trans. Henry Churchill Semple (St. Louis: Woodward & Tiernan Printing Co., 1922), p. 68.
  20. Daniel A. Helminiak, The Same Jesus: A Contemporary Christology (Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1986), p. 171, 225-39.
  21. Lozano, Jeanne Chezard, p. 72.
  22. Ibid., pp. 72-76.
  23. Ibid., p. 75.
  24. Mother Saint Pierre, Life, p. 57.
  25. Lozano, Jeanne Chezard, p. 76.
  26. Ibid., pp. 27, 77-78.
  27. Ibid., pp. 82-85.
  28. Helminiak, The Same Jesus.
  29. Frederick E. Crowe "Son and Spirit: Tension in the Divine Missions," Science et Esprit 35 (1983): 153-69.
  30. Daniel A. Helminiak, Spiritual Development: An Interdisciplinary Study (Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1987), pp. 183-211.
  31. Daniel A. Helminiak, "New Christology, New Spirituality," Soundings, 68 (1985): 160-78.
  32. John Carmody, Holistic Spirituality (New York: Paulist Press, 1983), Edward Hays, Secular Spirituality (Easton, Kansas: Forest of Peace Books, Inc., 1984); Richard Woods, Symbion: Spirituality for a Possible Future (Santa Fe, New Mexico: Bear & Company, Inc., 1982).
  33. Georg G. Iggers, The German Conception of History (Middletown, Connecticut: Wesleyan University Press, 1968).
  34. Denise Carmody, Seizing the Apple: A Feminist Spirituality of Personal Growth (New York: Crossroad, 1984); Joann Wolski Conn, Women's Spirituality: Resources for Christian Development (New York: Paulist Press, 1986); Faith Expressions of Hispanics in the Southwest, Vol. I: Workshops on Hispanic Liturgy and Popular Piety (San Antonio: Mexican American Cultural Center, 1977); Robert Jewett, The Captain America Complex: The Dilemma of Zealous Nationalism (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1973); Gloria Loya, "A Possibility for a Mexican-American Cultural Center," (unpublished paper).
  35. Matthew Fox, Original Blessing (Santa Fe, New Mexico: Bear & Co.,1983); Mee! We, wee All the Way Home (Wilmington, N.C.: Consortium Books, 1976).
  36. Morton Kelsey, Transcend: A Guide to the Spiritual Quest (New York: Crossroad, 1981).
  37. Sylvia Chavez-Garcia and Daniel A. Helminiak, "Sexuality and Spirituality: Friends, Not Foes," The Journal of Pastoral Care 34 (1985): 151-63; Charles A. Gallagher, Embodied in Love: Sacramental Spirituality and Sexual Intimacy (New York: Crossroad, 1983); Donald Goergen, The Sexual Celibate (Garden City, New York: Image Books, 1979 [1974]); Henri Nouwen, Intimacy: Essays in Pastoral Psychology (San Francisco: Harper & Row, Publishers, 1969); Thomas J. Tyrrell, Urgent Longings: Reflections on the Experience of Infatuation, Human Intimacy, and Contemplative Love (Whitinsville, Massachusetts: Affirmation Books, 1980).
  38. Sandra M. Schneiders, New Wineskins: Re-imagining Religious Life Today (New York: Paulist Press, 1986).
  39. Janice Brewl and Anne Brennan, Mid-Life: Psychological and Spiritual Perspectives (New York: Crossroad Publishing Co., 1982); W. Harold Grant, Magdala Thompson, and Thomas E. Clarke, From Image to Likeness: A Jungian Path in the Gospel Journey (New York: Paulist Press, 1983); Raymond Studzinski, Spiritual Direction and Midlife Development (Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1985); Helen Thompson, Journey Toward Wholeness: A Jungian Model of Adult Spiritual Growth (New York: Paulist Press, 1982).
  40. Helminiak, Spiritual Development.
  41. Paul Hinnebusch, Friendship in the Lord (Notre Dame, Indiana: Ave Maria Press, 1974); Paula Ripple, Called to be Friends (Notre Dame, Indiana: Ave Maria Press, 1980).
  42. On the remarkable teaching of St. Aelred of Riveaux, cf. John Boswell, Christianity, Social Tolerance, and Homosexuality: Gay People in Western Europe from the Beginning of the Christian Era to the Fourteenth Century (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1980), pp. 221-26.
  43. Michael Crosby, The Spirituality of the Beatitudes: Matthew's Challenge for First World Christians (Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis Books, 1981); John Dalrymple, "World Village," Living the Richness of the Cross (Notre Dame, Indiana: Ave Maria Press, 1983), pp. 77-90; Philip N. Joranson and Ken Butigan, eds., Cry of the Environment: Rebuilding the Christian Creation Tradition (Santa Fe, N.M.: Bear & Co., 1984); Robert Muller, New Genesis: Shaping a Global Spirituality (Garden City, New York: Image Books, 1984 [1982]).