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.