Pages

Thursday 31 December 2009

Goodbye 2009

It's nearly the end of the first decade of the twenty-first century since the birth of Our Lord or the third millennium of the Common Era. (Actually, there's another year to go but I've stopped being picky about these things...)

Here at DNC we have a special thanksgiving Mass at 11pm tonight. Tomorrow, a whole group of us is going to Lonavla (a hill-station about an hour's drive from here) for a conference on Nano-science and Religion (organised by the JDV's Association for Science, Society and Religion). We'll be back on Tuesday, when my provincial - Rev. Michael Holman SJ - will be visiting me (all the way from London, no less!) and receiving my annual manifestation of conscience. More on that next year...

2009 has been a memorable year for me. The most important moment, of course, was my profession of first vows in the Society of Jesus on September 5th. This year I've been an assistant chaplain in a South London comprehensive (high school), the sacristan of a suburban parish church and a philosophy student. Some of my favourite memories of the year:
  • Fun in the snow in London in January (unfortunately I'm missing this season)
  • The sight of Stonyhurst College, Lancashire as one comes up the drive for the first time
  • Relaxing in the pub with freshly-minted Jesuits the evening after vows
  • The hospitality of the Indian Jesuits when I got here in October
  • Many many long meaningful conversations - with family and friends, strangers and dreamers, laypeople and consecrated and priests
I hope and pray you will have a blessed new year and your heart's deepest desires will come true. See you in 2010!

Sunday 27 December 2009

Christmas at De Nobili College




The house has gone quiet now that the Christmas festivities are over (not all – there was a Santhal Christmas Mass in the house philosophers' chapel this morning). Over half of the scholastic
s have now gone back to their Provinces to celebrate New Year's in the provinces, home visits etc.

The main Christmas programme in the house began at
10:30pm on Christmas Eve with the Hindi Mass. The music was largely in the Central Indian style (distinct from the Punjabi bhajans you'd hear in a Hindi Mass in Delhi, for instance). A few of the scholastics (particularly those who weren't feeling too well with the cold snap Pune's being having recently) stayed around to attend. The Mass and following function was organised by the tribal Jesuit scholastics of
DNC.
The main celebrant was Fr. Thomas Kuriakose SJ (Delhi Province), who teaches Church History here at JDV. About 300-400 people must've turned up: the chapel was overflowing and there were people standing in the hallway. Following Mass, there was coffee, cake and tribal dancing! My Phenomenology professor calls dance “the interplay between motion and stillness” - but I doubt there was much stillness in the tribal dance! A few courageous scholastics manfully tried to master the increasingly intricate steps that our tribal brothers and sisters flowed into so effortlessly. The dance went on till about two in the morning, by my reckoning.

The following morning there was no morning wake-up bell in the house. The community Christmas Mass was a sober but cheerful event at 11 a.m., presided over by the Rector himself. Instead of the usual homily, we had an extended period of praying for intentions, particularly remembering those we had prayed for at other times in the year.

After Mass came the DNC Christmas gathering. We sang a few carols, played some silly games and received gifts. Then Christmas lunch – mutton biryani, chicken curry, vegetables and ice-cream. Unfortunately one of our theologian-scholastics got a rather large bone stuck in his throat while swallowing and had to be rushed to hospital (he's fine now and back with us). The afternoon was free for visiting friends etc.

For most Christians, Christmas is the time for being with family, remembering what our loved ones mean to us and (hopefully) evaluating our priorities to see if our families still come first. For consecrated, that togetherness is found in our communities. It is a really sad thing for a person to be alone and lonely at Christmas. The truth of Gabriel Marcel's dictum “esse is co-esse” is incontrovertible at Christmas. Being is being-with; to exist is to co-exist, with others.

Wednesday 23 December 2009

Joyeaux Noel

The Christmas decorations are up here at DNC. The crib is ready (well, almost). The afternoons are taken up with carol practice for the Christmas Mass. Some groups of scholastics have already been out carolling in neighbouring parishes.

I won't be blogging on Christmas day itself; so I'll leave you with an adaptation of St. Ignatius's Contemplation of the Nativity (Spiritual Exercises [110-117]):

Take a moment to be still and realise that you are in the presence of God.

Visualise, in the mind's eye of the imagination, the road from Nazareth to Bethlehem. How long is it? How wide? Is it level, or does it wind through valleys and hills? Imagine also the cave or manger where the birth of our Lord is to take place. How big or small is it?

Now imagine Our Lady, St. Joseph and the infant Jesus after his birth. Imagine yourself a poor, little servant, gazing at them, contemplating them, and serving them in their needs just as if you were there. Freely interact and converse with either the Holy Family or anyone else who happens to be there.

After a while, when you feel satisfied, take a moment to take stock of what has just been happening.

End with an Our Father.

Have a very Merry Christmas!

Sunday 20 December 2009

End of Term Thanksgiving

It's over! (Well, almost... I still have one paper on Existentialism to submit, but otherwise it's over.) I had 13 credits this term (which works out to about 65 hours of lectures and coursework a week) so it's been very, very hectic.

Just some of the things I've really been grateful for this term:
  • The support and care of my Jesuit brothers
  • The deep and moving conversations I've had with many people - Jesuits and non-Jesuits, consecrated and lay
  • Daily sports
  • Phenomenology, existentialism and Indian philosophy

Tuesday 8 December 2009

Jesuits at Copenhagen

Something to take a peek at while we DNC-ites are busy cramming for the exams that start on Monday, finish our scientific papers on Existentialism and present our seminars:

IgnatianEconet is a blog run by two Jesuits working at the OCIPE (that's our office for collaboration with EU agencies) who've just registered for the Climate Change Conference as observers.

Here in India, the conference is not exactly front-page material but the editorials are taking it seriously. The key question seems to be whether the developed countries (who bear most of the historical responsibility for pollution and climate change) will bear the lion's share of the cost in the near future while developing countries like BASIC (Brazil, South Africa, India, China) catch up. In the current economic climate (no pun intended), one cannot blame European leaders for wanting to ease the carbon "drag" on the economy; but nor can one but sympathize with the developing countries that feel the double injustice of historical exploitation of resources and current pressure to slow industrialization.

Friday 4 December 2009

Fr. Joseph Neuner SJ (1908-2009), RIP

Today we at DNC and JDV woke up to the news that our co-founder, Fr. Joseph Neuner SJ, passed away during the night. As a mark of mourning, there are no classes today and the funeral mass is in the afternoon. Fr. Neuner was originally from Germany and entered the Society in 1925. He was a peritus during the Second Vatican Council.

I didn't know Fr. Joseph personally but I hope you will join me in praying that this faithful servant and companion of the Lord will receive his eternal reward.

Update (1840 IST): Correction of name and some additional biographical details.

Explaining Religious Formation

In my earlier post, 'Explaining Consecrated Life', I had reflected on various analogues for consecrated life that might be helpful in explaining who we are and why we do what we do. After, “What is consecrated/religious life,” the question I've faced most often is, “How long does the training last?” That is the question I'd like to reflect on today; hence we look at formation in consecrated life.

As I had written then, I found marriage the best analogy to what we are in consecrated life (the vows of poverty, chastity and obedience we make as consecrated being analogous to the exchange of vows in marriage). In fact, consecrated make two kinds of vows – simple and solemn. The former is usually a low-key affair attended by members of the consecrated institute and immediate family only; the latter is a much more public and … well... solemn affair. There are technical and canonical differences between the two in terms of how they are viewed by the institute, the Church etc. As I understand it, solemn vows have a definitive, public and permanent character (thus they are also often called perpetual or final vows). One cannot usually be dispensed from them without the approval of the General (that's the highest authority within a consecrated institute). Thus, it is actually the solemn vows that I find come closest to the definitive commitment of marriage.

What about simple vows, then? They represent a positive commitment and intent, but of a more contingent nature. A person can usually be dispensed from these by the provincial (the head of the institute in a province or region). In most institutes, consecrated first make simple vows that are temporary (say, for 3-5 years; thus simple vows are often called temporary or first vows), subsequently renewing them annually or biannually etc. until it is mutually agreed between the order and the consecrated that she or he is ready to make solemn vows. A few institutes, like the Jesuits, make perpetual simple vows so that, as far as the person making the vows is concerned, the vows have a definitive, permanent character etc. (as you can guess, there is no end of confusion caused by this, especially when interacting with members of other consecrated institutes!) To go back to my analogy, I find that it is the rite of engagement that comes closest to simple vows. (In my experience, while marriage retains its ceremonial nature in the West, a ceremony that celebrates the engagement of a couple is largely unused. That is not the case here in India, however, where an engagement ceremony is only outdone by the actual wedding itself.)

With that in mind, we can look at the process of formation itself. Formation is a two-fold process. On the one hand, it is a process of discernment: both the individual and the institute try to determine over a period of time whether it is really God's will that the person consecrate her or his life in this institute. On the other hand, it is a process of incorporation: the individual becomes part of the body of the institute and makes the charism and way of proceeding of the institute her or his own. Or, as I prefer to think of it, both the person and the institute increasingly discover that God has already endowed this person with the charism of the institute, which must be developed and nurtured so that the person becomes a gift to the concrete institute. Put another way, formation is the process of establishing connaturality between the person and the institute. Of course, the balance between discernment and incorporation normally shifts to the latter as the formation process continues.

In one sense, formation is a lifelong process as there is always room for growth. In another sense, the formal process of formation ends with the solemn profession of vows. At that point, the consecrated has judged herself or himself as possessing and has been judged to possess the gifts needed for a full and productive life in the institute.

When a person wants to join a consecrated institute, the first stage of formation is the postulancy, which is also known by other names like aspirancy, pre-noviceship, candidacy etc. This is, effectively, a “come and see” programme that is implemented variously between institutes and provinces. So, for instance, some institutes admit postulants into the house or community but accommodate them in a separate part of the house (postulants do not usually wear the habit or cassock of the institute); while others have a programme of spiritual direction and visiting of communities while the candidate continues to live and work in the professional world. Some institutes have a separate pre-novitiate house established in the province with a fixed programme of academic and spiritual formation. At the end of the process, the postulant formally applies to enter the institute. This stage of formation can take between 6 months to a few years (if the candidate continues studying or working etc.).

If accepted, the person enters the noviceship stage (also called novitiate – but I prefer to use that term for the novitiate house itself). This is a period of focussed discernment in the context of an atmosphere of prayer, work, increasing familiarity with the rules and way of proceeding of the institute one has joined etc. In terms of the analogy, this is the “serious dating” phase. Novices of many congregations wear a modified version of the habit of their institute. At the end of the noviceship, the novice makes simple vows (as described above) and becomes a consecrated proper. They subsequently receive the full habit of the order. Canonically, the noviceship must last at least 1 year; some orders (like the Jesuits) have a 2-year noviceship.

The period between simple and solemn vows is characterised by growth in the connaturality (as I wrote above) between the individual and the institute. This is usually facilitated by inserting the consecrated into the full flow of life in the institute. In an apostolic institute, this means full-time work in an approved apostolate; for contemplative institutes it is simply integration into the conventual or monastic life proper. Some institutes may have a period of reflection and study similar to the noviceship during this period (in the Jesuits, this is called tertianship as it is considered the “third year” of the noviceship). This stage of formation can take between 3 years to a decade or more.

Everything I've written so far applies to all consecrated institutes – of men and women. Whether one joins an institute as a brother, a sister, a monk or a nun, this is the basic process of consecrated formation. If you've been doing your maths, the process will be seen to take about 7-9 years on average.

The alert reader now asks, “But what about priestly studies?” I've not included it in my description of formation so far. Canonically, the candidate for the priesthood in the Catholic Church must have studied for a minimum of 6 years full-time or equivalent – 2 years of Philosophy and 4 years of Theology. All priests – diocesan (also called secular) or consecrated – have the same 6 years of study as a requirement.

Different institutes integrate priestly studies into their overall process of formation in different ways. Many institutes will have the two run concurrently; in such cases the consecrated makes his solemn profession before ordination to the priesthood. Some institutes effectively alternate between the two; e.g. having a 2-4 years full-time apostolic work between philosophy and theology (this is usually called regency). In this case, depending on the length of formation stipulated between simple and solemn vows, the consecrated may be ordained before or after solemn profession. In most cases, it is the latter but, with the Jesuits for instance, ordination always precedes solemn profession.

To summarise, formation in a religious institute has the following stages – postulancy, noviceship, (simple vows), “on-the-job” (my term) formation, (solemn vows). Priestly studies (philosophy and theology) can run either concurrently or interspersed with these.

A final note: I've seen that many diocesan seminaries (that's where a diocese trains men for the priesthood) have adopted elements from religious formation. For instance, some seminaries in England have a pre-seminary year (analogous to the noviceship) in Valladolid. Similarly, many seminaries in India have adopted the regency as a period of personal integration of one's studies with pastoral work.

Thursday 3 December 2009

Feast of St. Francis Xavier

No classes today at DNC. Plus we had mutton and ice-cream for lunch. It's been a hectic time with assignments etc. Exams are in two weeks so the scholastics are beginning to hit the books. In the meanwhile, check out the pictorial report of our trip to Goa in October when we visited the relics of "our brother Francis".

Sunday 22 November 2009

To Any Regions Whatsoever

… we have judged that it is of the greatest profit to us to … [vow that]wherever [the Pope] may be pleased to send us to any regions whatsoever, we will obey at once, without subterfuge or excuse, as far as in us lies.(1540 Formula of the Institute of the Society of Jesus, 3)


As common works of the Jesuit Conference of South Asia (JCSA), De Nobili College (DNC), Jnana-Deepa Vidyapeeth (JDV) and the Papal Seminary come under the direct authority of the President of the JCSA aka the Provincial of South Asia (POSA – we Jesuits have a knack for coining words and abbreviations) - currently Fr. Edward S. Mudavassery SJ (of the Hazaribagh Province). Every year, therefore, the POSA makes a visitation of these three institutions and, as part of his visit, takes the opportunity to talk to scholastics about the Conference-level view of the Society (a Conference is a group of Provinces that are closely linked, by geography and culture, and collaborate extensively). This year's visitation started earlier this week and just concluded yesterday. On Thursday night, the philosophers had the opportunity for a tête-a-tête with the POSA.


One of the key points the POSA took pains to emphasise was the universal nature of the Society's Mission. In his words, “One joins the Society and is missioned to a Province, not the other way around.” Jesuit Provinces are not conceptually autonomous entities, even if they are so administratively. This universality is, for me, exemplified by the Irish Province, whose official title is “The Jesuits in Ireland” rather than “The Jesuits of Ireland”. Right from the foundation of the Society, we were and are a body called to transcend racial, ethnic and cultural differences to form one, unified, world-wide missionary society at the service of Christ and His Church under the direction of the Pope. In doing this we are not, however, called to be mass-produced automatons; we are expected to lose nothing of the richness and giftedness that the same racial, ethnic and cultural differences bring.


The universal mission of the Society is driven by our vow of obedience which, in our case, carries the specific sense of mobility and availability for mission (as expressed in the quote from our Formula above). I like to say that, while Benedictines take a vow of stability, Jesuits take a vow of instability. This availability (disponibilité as Gabriel Marcel would put it) calls for a comparatively long formation process, which I'll be describing in a subsequent post.


Back to the POSA's chat: the talk was certainly effective in raising awareness of the role played by the JCSA in the Society today (nearly one in four Jesuits worldwide comes from South Asia – the vast majority from India) and in the future (over one in three for Jesuits in formation). Combined with the rapidly growing provinces of Africa and South-east Asia, this means that the Society of Jesus (like the Church) is moving “southward” (see Catholic-journalism stalwart John Allen's penetrating analysis of “mega-trends” in the Church). Thus, the POSA exhorted us scholastics to maintain such a universal perspective and yet be rooted in our Indian culture so as to present a distinctive giftedness to the Society, the Church and the world. We must take responsibility for our own formation and always look to develop skills that are useful at Province, Conference and worldwide levels.

Wednesday 18 November 2009

Formed to Live in Community

(I'm back after a brief hiatus submitting essays and assignments.)

In an earlier post, I referred to common prayer in small groups every other day. There are two kinds of small groups that a person (formally) belongs to here at De Nobili College. The first is the Province group which, as the name suggests, is the group comprising all members of a Province (philosophers, theologians, priests and brothers) residing in the community. Province groups meet on Wednesdays for common prayer before supper and common recreation after. Each Province has its own dedicated room where one can find newspapers, periodicals, books etc. in one's native language and Province group meetings are occasions for members of the Province to get to know better the people they will be living and working with for the rest of their lives. It is also an occasion for sharing news from and views about the Province. Often, a scholastic refers to going to the Province room or one of these gatherings as simply "going to the Province" - an indicator of the sense of home and belonging that comes from this group. As the only member of the British Province at DNC, I am attached instead to the Kerala Province, which is the Jesuit Province in my home state.

The other kind of small group a person belongs to is the Living Group. This is a group consisting of 8-10 scholastics at the same stage of formation (philosophers and theologians have separate living groups). The purpose of the living group is to create a sense of community at the micro level. A living group has four main functions:

1. Common prayer that is more intimate and personal than the whole-community prayer (there are nearly 90 philosophers alone at DNC)
2. Household chores (scullery, cleaning, gardening) are allocated to living groups.
3. Liturgical duties (sacristan, community prayer) are also allocated to living groups.
4. When a scholastic falls ill, the living group takes care of him in the infirmary.

What is the living group experience like? The first thing I noticed was the sense of diversity. A recent Tablet article used the expression, "Jesuits are as distinct as snow-flakes". I belong to a living group that has North Indians and South Indians; scholastics from working class, middle class, upper class and tribal backgrounds. There is a deliberate attempt to make living groups as diverse as possible when they are set up at the beginning of the year; living groups usually go away for a day of 'faith sharing' (i.e. sharing one's life story from a faith perspective). The living group is a microcosm of the Society of Jesus in India and offers a balanced experience when combined with that of the Province groups.

Second was the sense of giftedness. The diversity of members is not merely in where we are from, what languages we speak, our backgrounds etc. but also in the gifts we offer to the group (and, by extension, to the community and the Society). Living groups enable the sharing of gifts in the diversity of activities engaged in and the more intimate space of developing relationships.

Third was an observation of the similarities and differences with my prior experience of community in the noviceship. The novices' community was about the same size and at least equally diverse – at an international level. Like the noviceship one is 'thrown into' (an expression from my Phenomenology class) Jesuit life in a diverse group that one "didn't know from Adam" (an expression – this time – from my novice-master). Like the noviceship, intimacy is facilitated through a variety of activities (in my experience, men bond better through activity – sport, projects etc. - than simply conversation). There are a few significant differences, though. The novices' community lived and worked in relative isolation from other similar communities (we met with the Lyon and Nuremberg novices once a year for a week-long symposium) and Jesuits; this isn't the case here – in addition to Province groups, there are both formal and informal study groups and other activity groups and teams. As novices, we had a clear superior (the novice master); living groups have a leader who play a coordinating role with other house officers and liturgy and party coordinators but no superior.

Finally, unlike the noviceship, the emphasis here is on formation rather than discernment [of one's vocation]. This is not to say that the element of formation was insignificant in the noviceship or that one does not continue to discern as a scholastic; but the emphasis has definitively shifted from "Should I take Jesuit vows?" to "How do I live the vows I have taken?". This is, of course, the question that animates scholastic life (and beyond) as a whole; living groups offer another input through the experiences of diversity, giftedness, previous apostolic / community experiences and future apostolic / community expectations.

Friday 13 November 2009

Échale un vistazo a esta página

"Take a look at this page."

Just a brief plug for the blog of a brother philosophy scholastic. Short excerpt:
Suffering is like the chisel that brings out the hidden art in a statue. A Rabbi once said, “When bad things happen we should not attend to it with theology but with sympathy. When suffering strikes all theories collapse.Acceptance of suffering as a passing moment is a better way though it weakens and embitters us as persons. Suffering never leaves anything as before. No one remains the same after an encounter. A new chapter is written in one’s life.

Thursday 12 November 2009

The "Slum Dwellers"

We've had monsoon-like rains on campus the last two days because of Cyclone Phyan (thankfully, it looks like it's going to die out). I always hope that loss of life and property will be minimal when a phenomenon like this strikes, but that is rarely the case. For many poor families along India's west coast, Phyan was, at best, a frightening event accompanied by a few sleepless nights and loss of income. At worst, it was a faceless grim reaper that took away loved ones. For us here on the JDV campus, it meant clothes that wouldn't dry, regular black-outs, no outdoor games and carefully-tended gardens ruined (the marigolds, in particular, falling victim to un-aesthetically-minded winds).

But not all JDV students (even Jesuit ones) live on campus. Every year, a few groups of Jesuit scholastics move out of their relatively comfortable (if Spartan) rooms at DNC between July and December to live among the poor and homeless people of Pune in the slums. Each 'slum community' consists of 3-5 scholastics; they commute in for classes and are expected to be self-sufficient. Thus, most such communities supplement their scholastic allowance with income from odd jobs, tutoring kids etc. My 'living group' (more about these in a subsequent post) has a member living in such a slum community. We went out to visit them on Tuesday (with Phyan's van – pardon the rhyme – doing its best to keep us from moving outside) in the pouring rain. There are three scholastics in this particular group; they live in a small single-room house about 4km from campus in the midst of a crowded settlement. I was certainly glad to be inside, dry and with a warm cup of tea in my hand by the time we got there – even if about a dozen of us were crammed into the room! I was very impressed by their hospitality, edified by their witness and reminded again that the Jesuit is called to live in solidarity with the poor, the dispossessed, the voiceless, the weak, and the helpless.

Because of the swine flu pandemic, this year’s groups are being recalled a month early. It was a real privilege to be able to visit the group we did before they came back (they’re back at DNC now).

Sunday 8 November 2009

Pretty Woman

Image: Mid-day

They belong to “the oldest profession in the world”. They exist, and have existed, in every culture and civilisation. They are glorified in art, fiction and films from around the world (including the Hollywood film that gives this post its title). They are vilified in social convention, ignored in polite conversation, talked about passionately at social justice conventions. They were once called ‘prostitutes’ (or, less politely, ‘whores’), also ‘courtesans’, ‘call girls’ and even ‘ladies of the night’; now they’re referred to (by the government, press and NGOs) as ‘commercial sex workers’. But what and who are they? Are they so much prostitutes as being-prostituteds? Are they more than conduits for erotic energy and frustration?

As part of our formation, we are asked to commit some time (usually around 3 hours a week, including commute, for DNC scholastics) to apostolic work. Some scholastics go to nearby parishes to help out with catechetics or parish home visiting; some others organise events for children of construction works; yet others work with young adults in Pune as part of a group called Searching and Service in Unity (SSU), founded by our (philosophers’) superior, Fr. Cyril Debruslais SJ. A few weeks back one of my fellow-philosophers asked me to consider teaching English and communication skills to the volunteers and social workers at Saheli (Hindi: “friend”), a CBO (community-based organisation) that works with commercial sex workers at Budhwar Peth, a residential locality of Pune that houses a famous Ganesha temple, a bustling shopping district and one of the largest organised brothels in India (if not the world). Saheli offers these women (and men – or more precisely, trans-genders) emotional support, HIV/AIDS prevention information, condoms, emergency food and medicines, crèche services for their children etc.

Yesterday afternoon, four DNC scholastics (the above-mentioned scholastic, the coordinator of JDV’s social action group, another fellow-philosopher and I) took the bus from Ramwadi to Manapā, from which Budhwar Peth is a short walk. Through the ride in the Indian afternoon sun I wondered what I could (or would) say if I were to enter into conversation with a prostituted woman. That didn’t happen yesterday; it will have to wait for another day. We visited the offices of Saheli and spoke to some of the workers there. This November’s a busy month as they’ve just received some funding and need to prepare the necessary reports etc. But yes, they would very much like some English classes. Although most of them have a Master’s in Social Work (MSW), they are not confident enough when speaking, especially, to foreign donors and agencies.

Having fixed a mutually convenient time for these classes (mine is on Saturday afternoons), we visited the crèche. Most of the children (1-5 years) were asleep; a few were having a late lunch. I was told later that most of these children will be moved to orphanages around and just outside Pune once they’re older – Budhwar Peth is not a safe or suitable place for them to grow up in.

The four of us then took the opportunity to walk around the main brothel area. Since it was mid-afternoon, the streets were relatively quiet and we were able to move without much difficulty (apparently the streets get so busy in the evenings it’s difficult for even small groups to stay together). We did, however, run the risk of being hustled for quick “business” during the quiet hour; so we had to stay together. The first thing we saw as we arrived were the women themselves, sitting on plastic chairs on the pavement or standing in the shade just inside the houses on either side, heavily made up and (usually) in colourful sleeveless tops or blouses. We walked up one of the numerous blocks of flats that constitute the brothel. Almost all the flats were open, the wares inside hidden only (and only sometimes) by a curtain half-drawn. Elderly woman (usually ex-prostitutes themselves) sat outside most flats, beckoning the numerous men who walked by to come in and see. Inside each single-bedroom flat were about 8-12 women, awaiting customers, sitting around, or chatting. Perhaps another day I might have the courage to go in and have a chat, yesterday I didn’t. Indeed, I could see that many of them were having late lunches, so I felt embarrassed at being an intrusion. I am told over 5,000 sex workers (not including the men / trans-genders) live and work in the area.

We only visited one floor yesterday. One floor is education, any more voyeurism, I felt. At the end of the street was the main police station of the area. A few police constables milled around in the late afternoon sun. Apparently, prostitution was “legalised” in Budhwar Peth some years back. I think this means the police made an unofficial policy decision to look the other way, allowing social organisations like Saheli to come in and work more effectively with the sex workers. I was reminded of Season 2 of the hit US series, The Wire, where drug trade is unofficially “legalised” in a fictional street of Baltimore, nicknamed “Amsterdam”. If it cannot be stopped, it can at least be controlled and overseen.

On our way back to the bus station, we also visited one of the side-streets where the male (trans-gender) prostituteds work. They have a reputation for being more aggressive (a few stood guard at the top of the street impolitely dissuading casual gawkers from going any further). We moved on and got the bus back to DNC.

Thursday 5 November 2009

Ordo

Having slowly settled into a rhythm of phenomenology and Indian philosophy, community prayer and table-tennis here at DNC, I thought it was time to describe a typical DNC day.

The Beadle (a scholastic appointed by the rector to carry out certain official tasks, organise events and people etc.) rings the morning bell at 5:30am. We have time for about 45 minutes of personal prayer before the bell for Holy Mass is rung at 6:35 (at DNC, you never have to worry about the time since the bell always reminds you!) Mass itself is at 6:40, followed by breakfast. Some scholastics may have early classes at JDV (the academic institute proper) at 8:20; otherwise the first lecture is normally at 9:10. Lectures are 45 minutes long, with a 5-minute break between classes. Coffee break's at 10:45 and lectures resume at 11:10. Then it's the lunch examen at 12:45pm and lunch proper at 1:00. We have an hour of silence / study-time between 2:00 and 3:00 before the afternoon lecture (depending on the optional course chosen). Tea and games from 4:00 to 5:30 and then silence / study-time again from 6:00 to 7:45. Then it's evening community or small-group prayer, followed by supper at 8:00 and recreation. By 9:30pm we're expected to be back in our rooms studying, reading, praying etc.

Variations on the ordo will have to wait for another post!

Wednesday 4 November 2009

Explaining Consecrated Life

Preliminary Note: In common parlance, members of Christian orders like the Jesuits (or Benedictines, Dominicans, Franciscans, Salesians etc.) are called ‘religious’; such orders are called ‘religious orders’ and this mode of life is called the ‘religious life’. In the reflection which follows, I have chosen to use the terms ‘consecrated’, ‘institutes of consecrated life’ (shortened to ‘consecrated institutes’ or ‘institutes’) and ‘consecrated life’ respectively instead. I do not wish to imply that we consecrated are holier or more religious than other Christians (every baptised Christian has a universal vocation to holiness, as Vatican II taught). What defines consecrated is the concrete self-dedication or consecration to the praise and service of Christ in the Church.

When I first announced my intention a few years back to enter consecrated life, I received a lot of confused looks and earnest questions from family, friends and well-wishers (some Catholic themselves!) who wanted to understand this way of life better. On and off since then, I’ve been thinking about ways or models of explaining consecrated life to people (perhaps not Christian) for whom such a way of life is outside their range of direct experience. Even lay Catholics whose vocation lies in the married life often have difficulty relating to the internal motivation and external mode of living that consecrated experience and could benefit from an explanation.

A clarification: there are significant differences between the vocation of a Catholic priest in an institute of consecrated life and that of a ‘secular’ or diocesan priest. We take vows of poverty, celibacy/chastity and obedience; diocesan clergy do not take a vow of poverty (and in some eastern Catholic disciplines, celibacy as well). While we are both motivated by the desire to give our lives in Christ’s service, members of consecrated institutes make that commitment in the context of a specific spirituality and spiritual charism (a way of living that spirituality as a gift to the Church) and also in the context of a concrete consecrated family of people who have taken similar vows. A diocesan serves the Church in a particular geographic area under the local bishop; the consecrated’s area of service can be as small as within a monastery (e.g. with a monastic institute like the Benedictines) or the whole world (e.g. with a missionary institute like the Jesuits or a contemplative institute like the Carmelites). In some ways, the consecrated called to be a priest has two distinct but related vocations – to the priesthood and to that specific consecrated institute.

I have a special liking for analogy (or models) as a pedagogic tool; after all, even Christ taught in parables! I will present three models (plus one sub-model) of consecrated life – two of them are (in my opinion) flawed and uninspiring; one I have found helpful. This is not a definitive or academic account of consecrated life – it is simply the personal reflection of one member of an apostolic institute of consecrated life. As a person of Indian origin writing in an Indian context, naturally, these models will draw largely from the Indian experience. Nevertheless, I hope you will find them helpful whether you are lay or consecrated, non-Catholic or Catholic.

The first model is that of the sanyāsi or hermit. In classical Indian thought, human life was described as the passage through four stages (or āshrama) – brahmacharya (youth), grihasthya (adult family life), vanāshrama (retired life) and sanyās (renouncing the world in search of enlightenment or perfection). One person asked me why I was entering sanyās this early in life before enjoying the other stages. This is a natural question, and completely understandable in the Indian context (the questioner was not a Christian). The origins of Christian consecrated life lie in the desert hermits of the first few centuries AD – people like St. Antony of the Desert and other Desert Fathers (and mothers!) Undoubtedly, the idea of renunciation towards perfection was an important factor in their thinking. For much of the history of consecrated life in the Church, this thinking persisted and consecrated life was seen as a higher mode of perfection than ordinary [lay] Christian life. Further, the idea of renunciation towards perfection and enlightenment is manifest in non-Christian traditions as well: Buddhist monastic life and Hindu ashrams, for instance.

Nevertheless, this model does not correspond to my experience of the call to religious life. We do not seek to renounce the world, but to embrace it. In September, whilst on holiday with my (then) fellow-novices in Wales, we had the opportunity to meet the (enclosed) Carmel nuns at Dolgellau. What surprised us was that, not only were the nuns not uninformed of world events, instead they seemed to know more of what happened in the far reaches of the globe than even we apostolic Jesuits did! St. Therése of Liseux (the Little Flower) chose the Carmelite life because she saw prayer itself as an apostolate for and in the world (the famous incident where she prays for a condemned prisoner’s conversion being a case in point). If this is true of contemplative consecrated, how far renunciation must be from the mind of those engaged in apostolic work for the Kingdom!

The second model is that of the social worker or reformer. Bl. Teresa of Calcutta (Mother Teresa) and the congregation she founded, the Missionaries of Charity, have come to epitomise the conjunction of consecrated life and social work. "But why join a consecrated institute if one desires to serve the poor, the marginalised, and the oppressed? Surely one can do the same as a [married] layperson," I was asked several times. Certainly, before Vatican II, consecrated were seen as the front line of the Church’s social action – as teachers, nurses, development workers etc. But the last half-century or so has brought the realisation that the laity have no less responsibility and capability (more, according to many) in this area. A well-paid and highly trained professional can do more good for the world (financially, politically, and intellectually) in his/her position than a lone missionary in a shanty town somewhere in Central America.

This argument has much to commend it; but it is simply not why I entered consecrated life. Of course, the desire to serve people and combat social evils is an integral part of my calling as a Jesuit, but it is not my prime motivation.

The third, and most helpful model, is (paradoxically) that of a married person. Traditionally, many women’s institutes (aka congregations) celebrated their final profession of vows (i.e. when the consecrated makes a final, definitive commitment to life under the vows in that institute – usually 5-9 years after entering) analogically to a wedding. The sisters would be dressed as brides and the profession was seen as a nuptial union with Christ. Post Vatican II, almost all institutes I’ve seen have retained the practice of profession rings even if some of the bridal imagery has been toned down.

Marriage is characterised by an exclusive, mutual self-giving of two persons made explicit by the exchange of vows and gifts. Analogically, the consecrated person gives herself/himself completely to Jesus Christ who has already made a complete self-gift of himself to us in the Paschal Sacrifice; this consecration is marked by the making of vows. Different institutes, then, represent different ways of living out this union with Christ: contemplative orders represent union with Christ praying on the mountain; monastic orders represent union with Christ living with his disciples; apostolic orders represent union with Christ working and preaching among the people.

In the Indian context, the daughter-in-law (bahu in Hindi, mařumakaļ in my native Malayāļam) is expected to part from her own family and enter the household of her husband. She does not thereby completely sever her ties with her own family, but it is understood that the family of her husband is her primary kinship circle now. She becomes a daughter to her parents-in-law. In fact, I have noticed that many of my married friends refer to their parents-in-law with the same terms as their husbands ("Papa", "Mummy" etc.) Whatever one might think of the gender/power relations inherent in such a conception of marriage, I have found it helpful to draw comparisons with the commitment of the consecrated to his/her own institute, its rules and ways of life, superiors etc. Being a member of a new family transforms the prior relationships of the bride; so too does being a member of a consecrated institute for the consecrated.

In the Spiritual Exercises, St. Ignatius has an exercise where the exercitant mediates on three ways of humble service of Christ. The third way is to "desire and choose poverty with Christ poor rather than wealth; contempt with Christ laden with it rather than honours." Ultimately, I think that the commitment of the consecrated is not to a way of perfection or service or an ideal, but a person – Christ.

Our Brother Francis

(As promised, my reflection on the Goa trip follows.)

Goa: land of sun, beaches, verdant woods, parties. And, as one brother scholastic pointed out, the second most-active hotspot for child prostitution in the world (after Thailand). For Jesuits, Goa is also the birthplace of the Indian mission (now, with nearly one in four Jesuits worldwide, the Jesuit Conference of South Asia) and the resting place of one of the founders of the Society of Jesus – St. Francis Xavier SJ. Or, as our rector calls him, “our [elder] brother Francis”.

Every year, the second-year Jesuit philosophers at De Nobili College, Pune make a pilgrimage to Goa during the Deepavali (Diwali) term break in October. I was kindly invited to join this year’s expedition by our rector. This was my first time in Goa but, after a rough 12-hour overnight bus journey, I would rather have been at home in bed!

The first day, we visited the relics of our brother Francis at the Bom Jesus church in Old Goa. As a trans-continental Jesuit, I have drawn much inspiration from Francis. We were especially privileged to have a mass in the enclosure with the relics, presided over by the rector of the Jesuit community there. Many years ago, I blogged in defence of Francis’s legacy in India. Now, in the presence of the great missionary himself, I prayed for myself, the Society of Jesus and especially for the Church in Europe, birthplace of Francis and the Jesuits. Walking around Old Goa and seeing the remains of churches and monasteries built there by the Jesuits and Augustinians was a moving experience. It’s also interesting to note, from a European perspective, how orders transposed and adapted European architectural conventions in a very different land: the ruins of the magnificent St. Augustine’s monastery being the case in point.

After visiting a few more places in Panjim (capital of Goa), we retired to our base for the trip – the guest house of the Jesuit retreat house on Baga beach. It was wonderfully relaxing to be in a house right on the beach. And, of course, I was ready for bed!

The second day was a designated “rest day”; I had the chance to dip in the Indian Ocean (since it’s not as cold as the Irish Sea, I didn’t have to get out within 15 minutes!) and visit the local shops. The third day we visited the Jesuit tertianship at Raia and also the oldest church in Goa, built by the Jesuits. This is also where the Goan Jesuit martyrs were first buried. In my noviceship, I had made a presentation on the Jesuit mission to the Mughal court; Bl. Rudolf Acquaviva and the other Goan martyrs were an important part of the story.

Then another 12-hour bus ride (this time, thankfully, less bumpy!) back to Pune and rest!

Tuesday 20 October 2009

Going to Goa

After the trip with the first-years, now it's time for a slightly different trip with the second-year philos (philosophy scholastics) from DNC. We're going to Goa in a few minutes and hope to catch up with our brother in the Society, St. Francis Xavier.

Update (25/10/09): Just got back yesterday morning after a 24-hour period when we spent nearly 18 hours on the bus; so I've been recovering ever since! A report and photos of the Goa trip will have to wait till Thursday or so. First, we scholastics of DNC have a Triduum (Lat. "Three days"; a three-day Ignatian silent retreat) after which we will renew our perpetual vows of poverty, chastity and obedience in the Society of Jesus. I've only seen the renewal of vows once before (at the British Province Meeting earlier this year in Swanwick) and it was a very moving experience. Yes, it is a private affair (Jesuits and close associates only, I'm afraid!), but it isn't hard to imagine the emotional force of two hundred young men jointly re-committing themselves to total dedication and self-giving in the service of the Lord. Pray for me!

The Cave Temples (Part 2)

The second day of the Ajantha-Ellora trip was a much more hectic affair. Our first port of call was the fort at Daulatabad. The fort itself is fairly impressive and more or less impregnable in medieval times. Nevertheless, I find myself a little weary when it comes to fortresses – once you've seen one impressive fort you've pretty much seen them all (Tower of London, Lal Qila / Red Fort etc.) unless there is some special personal reason why a particular fort is of significance (e.g. the Tower of London was more a personal pilgrimage because of the many Jesuits interned there and subsequently martyred). Most of the scholastics decided to climb the 750-odd steps to get to the top of the fort; I decided to conserve my energy for the caves of Ellora which, if they were half as impressive as Ajantha the previous day, should not be missed because I had too little energy. Instead, I had the opportunity to wander around the grounds and meet our primate cousins!

Then the cave temples at Ellora. Like those at Ajantha, the Ellora temples, too, were carved out of solid rock and entire temples are, effectively, a single block of stone. In fact, the Kailasha temple (Temple N.16) at Ellora is the biggest monolith in the world. However, where Ajantha was entirely Buddhist, Ellora has Buddhist, Hindu and even Jain temples. The Ellora temples are spread out over a much larger area and the terrain is not as precarious. There are also more caves than at Ajantha ("cave" is a misnomer for these structures since, as one guide pointed out, they were not constructed from existing natural caves but were created artificially). While the artwork at Ellora was not as impressive as those at Ajantha (very little evidence of murals have survived and the sculptures are not as intricate), the engineering is most certainly impressive. When I saw two- and three-storey temples carved out of the rock-face I had to ask, how on earth did they do it? The sheer imagination, planning and coordination, the determination and skill of execution needed makes my head swim. For instance, did they start at the top and build their way down? The interior spaces are also much larger; where each Ajantha temple might accommodate on average 200 devotees, you could fit over 1,000 into Ellora's multi-storeyed monoliths.

As at Ajantha, I tried to compose the space as it must've been in the 7th-8th century AD when devotees must've streamed here in the thousands from all over the region. Torches or, perhaps, oil lamps must've lit the corridors and prayer halls. The Ellora temples seemed to be younger by a few centuries than their Ajantha counterparts. Artistically, one can also see greater evidence of Hindu-Buddhist hybrid styles at Ellora. In the Dashavathara temple (N.15), there seemed to be evidence that the Buddha was already being venerated by Hindus as one of the dash-avathar (lit. "Ten incarnations" or "ten descents"): ten instances when Lord Vishnu, one of Hinduism's chief deities, took human/corporeal form to combat injustice on earth (the two most famous of these avathars are Lord Rama and Lord Krishna). At the Kailasha temple mentioned earlier (pictured right), there were so many people I thought the temple was still used as a place of worship! As with the previous day, I was conscious of being on holy ground, sites sanctified by the devotion and piety of thousands of seekers of the divine, the transcendent ground-of-being.

My one regret was that our programme did not allow a whole day at Ellora. We only had a couple of hours before we had to get moving; I only got to Cave Temple No. 16 (of over 30!) in that time. I certainly hope I'll get the opportunity to go back some day and, this time, I hope I can convince an expert on Indian temples and religions to give me a running commentary!

On the way back, we stopped at the tomb of Aurangzeb, the last great Mughal emperor. Aurangzeb was undoubtedly a man of great personal piety; he was assiduous in his study of the Qur'an and practised great austerity of life. When he died, he left strict instructions that he be buried in a simple tomb with no great edifice or gardens to commemorate him. Aurangzeb was also one of the most religiously fanatical of India's Muslim leaders and left behind him a legacy of religious oppression of Hindus and Sikhs that endures in common memory to this day. It was an interesting experience visiting his tomb and reflecting on the tension between his apparent personal holiness and public cruelty. Indeed, one is left reflecting on the relationship between religious absolutes and violence. Does all dogma lead, eventually, to violence? How and should religious truth be asserted?

We eventually got back to Pune around 11pm after having supper at a road-side dhaaba (a working-class eatery by the highway that acts as a rest stop, mainly for all-night truckers).