Regular Observance:
Reflections of a Dominican Yogi

by Donald Goergen, O.P.

The following was a talk given at a province study meeting in June of 1997. I was asked to explore the mundane topic of Dominican regular observance and its relationship to the contemplative experience, and so I gave this presentation a lofty title, "Reflections of a Dominican Yogi."

Ancient Spiritual Wisdom

As we attempt to situate ourselves deeply within our Dominican tradition, it is helpful for me to place myself momentarily outside that tradition, and to take  note of what the Holy Spirit was accomplishing and teaching in ancient India. Yoga, as a disciplined spiritual journey or path, emerged and diversified itself in that ancient cradle of civilizations.

Yoga has been variously described. In Pantanjali's classic yoga, yoga is the cessation or control of states of consciousness, or the fluctuations of the mind, the whirlpool of thoughts and emotions, in other words,  pure concentration resulting in the experience of samadhi (Yoga-sutras, I, 2). Sri Aurobindo describes yoga as "the art of conscious self-finding" (The Human Cycle ,36). According to Mircea Eliade, 'yoga' as a word can designate any ascetic technique or method of meditation. Yoga meditation proper begins with concentration, on a single object; samadhi, a state of contemplation being its culmination. The word 'yoga' means many things and there are many varieties of yoga. (Eliade, Yoga: Immortality and Freedom, 1969, 4-7, 47-52, 77, 149-53.)

Most strictly, yoga is a system of Indian philosophy, expounded by Pantanjali, one of six orthodox (Vedas-based) systems of Indian philosophy, a theistic philosophy. Its practice involves seven stages of the yogi's journey to samadhi, the eighth or final stage. In a less strict way, yoga has permeated all Indian spiritualities (Eliade, 101) and is practically synonymous with Indian spiritual praxis, its triumph witnessed in the praise given it by Krishna in the Bhagavad Gita (VI, 46). Even more widely or loosely, yoga refers to a disciplined spiritual path, a conscious journeying toward the mystical union of the human and divine. The word derives etymologically from the word 'yuj,' meaning to bind together, to hold fast, to yoke, like religion (Eliade, 4-5). In any case, yoga requires discipline, effort, practice, concentration oriented toward experiencing one's truest self or the life divine: a disciplined path toward union with God. The life of the yogi is rooted in God.

It is generally acknowledged that there are three higher yogas or margas or paths or ways: jñana, karma, and bhakti -- the path of spiritual knowledge, the way of action, the pursuit of mystical devotion or love. The path of the jñana yogi is not necessarily that of the bhakta, and it is important that each finds his or her true way to the life divine. But it is also true that a synthesis of these yogas is both possible and desirable, such as we find in the Hindu guru Sri Aurobindo in his great system of integral yoga, a yoga whose integrity lies in the interrelatedness of all the higher yogas.  There is something very Dominican in this synthesis of paths to God. Indeed, it is amusing how these ancient paths surface within the integrated yoga or yogic integrity of St. Dominic. A follower of Dominic is called to practise jñana yoga; study and learning are considered one of the pillars of Dominican life; our respect for reason and theological traditions give witness to this. A Dominican yogi is also called to practise karma yoga, the way of action, of ministry, of work, of preaching. Indeed, some might argue that Dominican spirituality is a karma yoga, an apostolic spirituality, and it certainly has become that for many. Yet Dominic's friars were also called to practise bhakti -- love of God, devotion to prayer,  vibrant liturgical life, contemplare, the rosary, a mystical tradition exemplified so profoundly in Eckhart, Tauler, Suso, Catherine, and the friends of God.

Indeed, an affection for truth, for preaching, and for prayer are three essentials of the Dominican yoga. And the fourth is the common life which is intended to undergird and permeate these three and hold them together in a delicate and enriching balance. Thus Dominican life recapitulates this ancient spiritual wisdom, these works of the Spirit, and builds upon them. Dominican life is an integral yoga, each Dominican called to be a yogi, or perhaps better, sadhak,  a spiritual seeker according to the style of our Holy Guru Dominic. We can learn and be enriched by the East as well as offer the East the fruits of our own experiential knowledge. Just as in the East, a preferred locus for the practise of yoga is an ashram, so among us it is a priory or convent, the house of prayer, of study, and of preaching. Its life is structured to support the yoga. Each of us is called to practise bhakti, jñana, karma, and be attached  to an ashram: the four pillars of Dominican life.

Now it is also interesting that the greatest reform movement ever in Indian history, that movement which broke with the most significant structures and even the scriptures of Indian religion, namely the teachings of Gautama Siddhartha, the Buddha,  evolved and diversified in the direction of its own paths to Enlightenment with an understanding of three essentials or the 'three jewels' of the way of the Buddha -- the dharma, the sangha, and the buddha, or the teaching, the community, and our true spiritual nature. But the sangha, or Buddhist community life,  was central and essential if we are to be faithful to the dharma and our buddha nature. One cannot readily be faithful to a path and become a spiritual being apart from the support, the spiritual environment, of others. Hindu spiritual history has relied to a great degree on the tradition being handed on by the guru; Buddhist history has relied upon the sangha, as do we. Our ashram, a priory, is centered on our gurus Dominic and Catherine and Thomas and Eckhart, and our sadguru Jesus, a Buddha, the Christ, and provides the structured matrix for a life of study, devotion, and works of charity.

We could trace these traditions of wisdom elsewhere as well, for example in the ancient Hebrew traditions with which we are more familiar, and its dedication to love of God, love of study, and love of neighbor --the three higher yogas of the East. But my point is not to explore these traditions in detail here, but only to suggest that the spirit of St. Dominic is in touch with the Holy Spirit of all wisdom and that this connection or parallel is not to be dismissed lightly. The practise of Dominican yoga goes to the very roots of who we are, what we are about, and God's intentions for the universe.

The Life of the Soul

Eastern traditions are very much at home with the psychology of the soul and have developed  spiritual psychology  extensively. Certainly this is less true of modern empirically based Western psychologies, as well as earlier forms of Western rational psychologies. Thus, let me set up a very simple framework as a basis for our continuing reflection on the contemplative life -- the life of the soul -- or "the experiential knowledge of the soul"  (Humbert of Romans)-- which lies at the heart of our common life.

We are all bodily beings, embodied persons, and our embodiment with its sorrows and joys should never be denied or its importance diminished. We are also intelligent creatures, no matter how unintelligent we may sometimes be, and the life of the mind is one of our most sacred gifts. Mentality gives witness to the fact that we, while being embodied, are more than body alone. We are embodied souls stretching outward and inward at the same time. There is no interiority without its concomitant exteriority, but it is also true that  exteriority requires the development of a corresponding inwardness -- the life of the soul. 

It is possible to emphasize or develop one dimension of our personhood at the expense of the other. Last year while travelling, an image came to me as characterizing the West, and the West's domination throughout the world. The image actually came to me in Bangkok, an exploding unmanageable metropolis in the midst of a calm Buddhist world with its gentle and civil people. The image representing the West was that of a body builder, a man who who spent time, excessive time, daily, at a Nautilus or similar center, with grossly bulging muscles that could hardly seem attractive to anyone anymore, so out of touch was this in tune man. I have actually on occasion seen these men. They seem (I don't know, not having spoken with any) preoccupied with their bodies, distorting their bodies. My image is of someone superficial, with little depth, this huge body, this small soul. This is the West with its highly overdeveloped exteriority, its excessive preoccupation with material goods, its advanced technology, its underdeveloped soul, the loss of its 'within,' its fear of the inner worlds. It made me stop and wonder which world, the 'first' world or the so-called 'third' world, was really the underdeveloped world. There must be a balance between the outer reaches of our embodiment and the inner recesses of our souls.

There is, of course, more to the life of the soul than intelligence, intellect, reason, even including  intuitiveness,  imagination and memory. There is also more to the soul than the heart with its affective life, vitality,  emotions and feelings, connectedness to others. Intellectual development and affective development must also be held together in a delicate balance lest the life of one eclipse that of the other. Like the inner and the outer,  so must the head center and the heart center respect and revere each other. Each requires  the other. Each is incomplete by itself alone. This is also true of persons and society. The social, relational continuations or extensions of our bodiliness show that we can move ever outward in a rhythm of continuing, pulsating excentration, going out of ourselves, refusing to be self-preoccupied and falsely self-centered. But we can likewise, indeed we must, also plump the inner depths of that deeper self beyond mind, beyond heart, perhaps beyond soul, or at the very depths of soul, the truest self, where a finely sharpened two-edged sword can barely separate soul from spirit, psyche from pneuma , where one drifts almost imperceptively but noticeably into the other, where one becomes the Other, and I find my true, elusive, self  gently juxtaposed next to its mirror image, its non-self. The Letter to the Hebrews puts it, "Indeed, the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing until it divides soul from spirit, joints from marrow" (4:12). It is this distinction between 'soul' and 'spirit' which is of particular concern to us.

This is the life of the soul, the depth of the soul, the 'spark of the divine', the 'cave of the heart' (Abhishiktananda), 'the self that God made' (Catherine of Siena) that I wish to explore, from which the person as contemplator emerges or is created.  This is based on my firm conviction, the experience-based intuition, of the utter inseparability but nevertheless distinguishability between 'soul' and 'spirit,' psyche and pneuma.  It is where psychology and pneumatology  merge and differentiate themselves. It is where a human spirit and divine Spirit meet in that anguishing, painful, intimate loving embrace.

Psyche: life, soul, mind, heart, head, consciousness, subconsciousness, collective unconsciousness; and pneuma: the depth of the soul, spirit, the abyss within, the opening to the life divine; these are not the same. One of the mistakes of Western psychology has been its failure to distinguish them. One of the tragedies of Western theology has been its inability to develop a practical pneumatology. And thus, given these two lamentable deficiencies in Western life and thought, psychology has assumed to itself the workings of the spiritual life, therapy becomes the avenue for addressing specifically spiritual needs, and spiritual direction more often than not silently becomes psychological counseling with superficial references to God and gospel. But the whole world of the life of the human spirit remains unacknowledged, undisclosed, and underdeveloped. This is one of the tragedies of modernity, and post-modernity in the West doesn't seem to be addressing it either.

Greek philosophical anthropologies interpreted the human person in terms of two fundamental principles: body and soul. Biblical anthropologies, especially Pauline (e.g., 1 Thes 5:23),  did so in terms of three principles: body, soul, and spirit. At one time, in a sense, all theology was spiritual theology. It was a contemplative act. Then spirituality itself became severed from theology and their histories considered separable. One would rarely study Thomas Aquinas in the history of spirituality and rarely see reference to Catherine of Siena in the history of theology. Both suffered as a result. Spiritual and religious experience did not receive theological attention, and theology lost much of its life blood, indeed its soul. Even pneumatology, where it even existed, became the study of the Holy Spirit, the third hypostasis.  But an exploration of the human spirit was ignored. (Also see Romans 8: 14-16 for this distinction between the human spirit and the divine spirit; "For all who are led by the Spirit are sons and daughters of God. For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the spirit of adoption. When we cry , "Abba, "  it is the Spirit himself bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God.")

The soul can develop in one of two directions. Its life and energy get channeled toward the formation of the ego, or focused on a deeper energy coming forth from life-giving spirit.  I am not using ego here in the sense of modern post-Freudian ego psychologies, but I would still say that most modern psychologies do focus their attentions on building up the ego in the sense that I am using the word, namely as the false self, the falsely self- centered self, the self-pre-occupied self, the 'separate' individualistic self, the grossly exaggerated self-important self, the self that seeks immediate gratification, demands self-fulfillment, grazes on greed and power, the arrogant self that gets enough self-esteem only when it establishes itself with a sense of superierity at the expense of the other. The true self, by contrast, knows that it is not who it is apart from the other, that a real person is always a person-in-community, relational, being-with, open equally to both self-affirmation and self-denial, self-actualization and self-negation, a theology of glory and a theology of the cross. We cannot digress here and talk more about the ego, which would of course delight the ego, for it thrives on being the focus of our attention, but we do need to highlight the genuine importance of our spirit, our truest self, which is an antithesis to our ego-selves.

The word 'spirit,' ruah in Hebrew, pneuma in Greek, means 'breath,' as well as wind or spirit.  For someone like myself, who struggled as a child with asthma, breathing becomes, as it is for all of us, a life and death issue. The spirit is simply breathing, deep breathing from within the depths of ourself, and like all breathing has a rhythm to it, inhaling and exhaling, and a pace to it, fast or slow. To live spiritually is to truly live; to live egoistically is to die; only spirit can give eternal life; the only future for ego is eternal death. Spirit is the depth and fullness of life. There is more to life than biological or organic life alone. A tomato does not appreciate the life of the deer; a dog cannot fathom the worlds open to human beings. But just as there is more to life than biological life, so there is more to life than psychological life. The lion does not know the joys and sorrows of humankind, just as a human person living at organic or psychic levels of life does not know how much more to life there really is -- what it is to really be alive, the darkness and light of pneumatic life.

The spirit breathes in and the spirit breathes out. The spirit receives and the spirit gives. Each person is both a 'within' and a 'without.' We are so constituted that you never get one without the other, no 'without' without a 'within' and no 'within' without a 'without.' We must be attentive to both. Both are loci wherein we find the Holy Spirit, although I will speak here more of the space within.

Within, at the deepest level, the human spirit is touched by the divine spirit, the Holy Spirit, where the Holy Breath seeps in to refresh our souls and re-create our human spirits. It is at this level within where God rushes in, where human being meets Divine Being, where the utterly transcendent one becomes the profoundly immanant and intimate one, where intercourse between God and us takes place. Veni Sancte Spiritus.   God and we have built a home together -- our true and lasting home -- where we become the glory of God and the glory of God makes us fully alive.

The Holy Spirit is the contact point at which God is most genuinely Grace, or Gift, - one of the most theologically proper names for the Holy Pneuma. . The Holy Spirit is the divine hypostasis that literally gives God to us, gives God to God's creatures, gives us the transfusion of divine grace by which we live our spiritual lives. Whereas the Holy Spirit is God as Gift, the human spirit is creature as receptor, the vehicle created by God within the human person that is able to receive the Divine Persons. Through the Holy Spirit, God breathes out. Through our spirits, we breathe God in. God by nature is self-giving. We learn to become self-giving  by grace. But we must first receive the grace that empowers us to live lives of  self-giving, making of ourselves a self-offering, vicariously, for the world, to God. Hence the importance of our human spirit and its pneumatic psychology. Our lives depend upon it. The world depends upon it. God depends upon it. We cannot afford self-absorbtion with our false selves. The only reality deserving our attention is the life divine which always loves in us and loves us more than we can imagine. How gracious it is!

Ordinarily we do not come to this life, this fuller and deeper life, for which we all knowingly or unknowingly search, apart from discipline, effort, practice, a method, a path, a way, a yoga. Almost all spiritual wisdom, East or West, recognizes this necessary preparation for divine union, this conscious and concentrated receptivity to divine grace, this co-creation of ourselves as a receptacle for divine ecstasy and self-emptying. And the major spiritual traditions value the role of the ashram, or sangha, or community, or cenobium, or  monastery in this self-annihilating, self-actualising, lonely but corporate journey, during which we are restless until we are granted the true rest which we seek.  We are now better prepared for the topic of this paper: what does the common life have to do with this contemplative pilgrimage of the soul?

The Common Life in Context

Let us begin our effort to understand Dominican common life by turning to our common Dominican texts, the Rule of St. Augustine,  the Fundamental Constitution,  the Constitutions of the Friars, the Acts of General Chapters, and Letters of the Masters of the Order.  One could also explore the constitutions of the nuns and of the congregations of the sisters, but I shall not do that here.

Rule of St. Augustine

The Rule begins, " We urge you who form a religious community to put the following precepts into practice. Above all, live together in harmony (Ps 67:7), having one mind and one heart (Acts 4:32), intent on God, since that is why you have come together. Do not call anything your own but share all things" (par. 1-3, emphasis added). And we could continue to read the entire, beautiful, profound yoga the Rule of Augustine prescribes for the restless heart, the thirsty soul, the unquiet spirit. But we move on, taking special note of the expression we often forget: intent on God as why we have come together.

Fundamental Constitution

We also undertake as sharers of the apostolic mission the life of the  apostles in the form conceived by St. Dominic, living with one mind the common life, faithful in the profession of the evangelical counsels, fervent in the common celebration of the liturgy, especially of the Eucharist and the divine office as well as other prayer, assiduous in study, and persevering in regular observance (emphasis mine, #IV).

 The structure of the Order as a religious society arises from its mission

 and fraternal communion (emphasis mine, # VI).

Let us note here, before continuing, that the Fundamental Constitution speaks of common life, fraternal communion, and regular observance. Are these three one and the same thing? If not, how are they related to each other

Constitutions

Following the fundamental constitution, the next fifteen constitutions speak directly of the common life. These are followed by the articles on obedience, chastity, and poverty, all integrally related to the common life which is their center and which gives them their meaning among us. Each is basically an expression of the common life, an effect of it and witness to it. Then comes the final article in the first chapter of the constitutions, on regular observance. Again, as in the fundamental constitution, this is distinguished from common life as such, distinguishable but not separable from it.

The constitutions on the common life indicate that "we hold all

things in common" (#3/I), that each convent ought to be "a fraternal community" (#4/I), and that all the brethren have "responsibility toward the common good" (#4/II).  These constitutions  speak of "common life" (#10), twice refer to"fraternal communion" (#5, 6), and three times mention  "regular life" (#6, 7/I, 7/II). Then there is later the entire article, seventeen constitutions, on regular observance.

 We should regard regular observance highly, cherish it in our heart,  and strive to put it into effect (#39).

 All the elements that constitute and govern Dominican life through  common discipline pertain to regular observance. Outstanding among these elements are the common life, the celebration of the liturgy and private prayer, the observance of the vows, the assiduous study of   truth, and the apostolic ministry: to fulfill them faithfully we are helped by the cloister, silence, wearing the habit, and penitential practices (emphasis mine, #40).

Notice here that regular observance pertains to, is pertinent to the common life, and vice-versa, as do the vows, and that regular observance is thus an overarching umbrella under which the living of the life, the way or yoga of Dominic, is placed. (See above: "All the elements that constitute and govern Dominican life through common discipline pertain to regular observance.") Regular observance in one sense is the Dominican yoga. The constitutions go on to discuss further the cloister, permissions, silence, a simple diet, the common table, and penitential practices. Let me just quote here the emphasis placed on silence as an observance, as an example.

 Silence shall be diligently observed by the brethren, especially in places  and at times reserved for prayer and study; it is the guardian of all observance and contributes particularly to interior religious life, to peace, prayer, the study of truth, and the sincerity of preaching (#46/I).

Acts of General Chapters  

General and provincial chapters concern themselves with community life. Let me refer briefly to some texts from recent General Chapters. First, Oakland, 1989, analyses briefly our community life and re-affirms its values.

 There are many positive elements in our communities today which are signs of hope to our world: the witness of prayer in a secularized world where many are searching for an experience of God; the witness of  mutual support and understanding in a world where fragmentation  is increasing; the witness of exceptional generosity in a world where selfishness  is growing; the witness to a prophetic presence and an  active  involvement with the poor and the marginalized in a world in which exploitation is rife; the witness of unity and love in a world where  division and hate abound; the witness to stable commitment in a world of insecurity and uncertainty.  (#2.1)

We also find some negative elements that are gradually eroding our community life, blurring the witness we offer to the world and reducing the effectiveness of our preaching ministry: the presence of excessive individualism and self-centeredness; the corrosive influence of materialism and consumerism; the decreasing appreciation for solitude amid quiet; the over-emphasis on efficiency; the lack of availability  and mobiilty; the breakdown in communication and dialogue; the tensions arising from conflicting approaches to reality; the pressures brought to bear on us to undertake apostolic projects for  local churches which are at variance with our charism and which undermine community life. (#2.2)

The Oakland Acts go on to say that, "We re-affirm that our call to community living is at the heart of our call to the Dominican life" (#3.1).

The Mexico City Acts, 1992, call to mind that the community in itself  is "holy preaching" (#1,1,2; LCO 100). "The description, 'preaching,' we apply above all to the whole community, and to the brothers who are members, with each one fulfilling different functions" (#1.1.2 emphasis added). They raise the question and discuss the issues pertaining to  affectivity and common life (#2.3-4). This latter theme is taken up and expanded by the General Chapter of Calaruega in 1995, where it discusses the "common fraternal life" (chap. III) which texts are well worth reading.

They indicate that "common life may conceal an absence of fraternal life" and that "fraternity is the first goal of common life". They clarify that "common life refers primarily to the aspect of poverty (sharing of goods), whereas fraternal life refers mainly to affectivity (sharing of the heart) and community life to the apostolate (sharing of the mission), and in our Dominican life, all these are already a way of preaching" (#41). Thus we do not simply live the common life or even community life, but rather common fraternal life. I notice that the Acts of General Chapters talk about common life, and more recently its affective dimensions, and thus also fraternal life, but refer less and less to the regular life. We need to keep these varied facets of "Dominican life" in mind: common life, fraternity, and regular observance.

Another important source for us are letters of the Masters of the Order. General Chapters  themselves refer back to Damian Byrne's letter on the common life (A Pilgrimage of Faith, 34-49). Timothy Radcliffe's most recent letter on the spirituality of Dominican government is also an excellent source (IDI, # 353, July-August, 1997).

To bring together these texts that outline our call, let me just say that  regular observance, common life, and fraternity are all essential ingredients of Dominican praxis. We are quite familiar with the four pillars of our Dominican yoga or way of life: prayer, assiduous, liturgical, personal, and contemplative; study, lifelong, pursuing endlessly truth, the truth about our world, God's truth, spiritual truth and wisdom, a sapiential and not simply intellectual commitment; preaching, the planting of God's word, an apostolic work, our mission, our ministries, our servanthood on behalf of the world and humanity, the surplus of the gospel; and religious consecration, shared living, life together, the brotherhood and family, fraternity, community, common life, but also the practices and structures of  regular observance, a disciplined life, a disciplined communal life, where structures are valued as being at the service of our human lives and the gospel, but exist for us and not us for them.  The Dominican yogi sees regular observance, the whole of the regular life, and indeed all the pillars of Dominican spirituality intricately woven into an integrated whole which together comprise an evangelical yoga at the service of the gospel, which truly seeks to speak only if speaking of God or to God, the yogi's personal communal search for that divine, mystical, and prophetic union that re-creates us while wearing us down. Our contemplative souls and our apostolic mission require the regular life.

How can we continue to build together our common fraternal life? Community does not exist to meet our needs. Such is a modern perception, expectation, a sense of entitlement in a narcissistic culture. Rather we are there for the  community. The community enables us to practise charity. The community is also a ministry, and one that bears fruit by making a way of life possible, and thus making the practise of Dominican yoga possible. We couldn't have such an opportunity were it not for the brotherhood and sisterhood. When we think of the aliis in contemplata aliis tradere, we usually think of those to whom we minister, or everyone in the world except those with whom we live. But some of the aliis are our brethren or sisters. When thinking of our relationship to community, I sometimes like to re-direct the verses from Francis Thompson's "The Hound of Heaven" which ordinarily remind us of our relationship with God. Let's see how it goes when we are thinking of the community.

• I fled it, down the nights and down the days;
• I fled it, down the arches of the years;
• I fled it, down the labyrinthine ways
• Of my own mind; and in the mist of tears
• I hid from it, and under running laughter.

In the concrete, community living means: (1) the practise of charity; and (2) the practise of Dominican yoga.

The contemplative dimension of our lives ought not be equated with common prayer, or with one of the four pillars. It is the foundation on which all the pillars stand. Ministry flows from our contemplative living, and so does community, as well as our study, and also our common prayer. They all flow out of our living from within 'the center' and help us to reach that center. The fruits of our contemplation are common fraternal life, study, liturgy, and preaching. Regular observance supports our "return to the center" amid the complexities of community, ministry, study, our public liturgical life, and the world in which we find ourselves. Regular observance is intended to gear us, direct us toward a concentration on that one thing necessary which we find in solitude and celebrate in Eucharist.

The challenging question for us now is how to be faithful Dominican yogis in a highly secularized, spiritually dry but thirsty, religiously ambivalent, therapeutic, narcissistic, and individualistic culture given the great benefits of this culture which we do not want to let go of. How can we see the call to the common life as the call of the Spirit, and how do we center our common lives in the life of the Spirit? Is it a question of the spirit being willing but the flesh weak? Or the ideological and personality differences among us being stronger than our affection for Jesus Christ and his Eucharistic table? Or we really don't have that desire for the spiritual life? We must be realistic. It is difficult to uproot ingrained patterns of life. There are significant differences among us. These are not all bad even if difficult to balance. They can enrich us as well as destroy us. It is hard work, and we say "there must be an easier way." But my purpose here has been to see regular observance as a help, indeed a must, for the contemplative life, not a hindrance. What must then be done? Does anything need to be done other than renewed commitment and encouragement?

 There has been a decreased emphasis on regular observance in its relationship to our common fraternal life. We ought not let this erode further. The reality is that there are very few structural supports for those values which nourish the contemplative side of our lives,  values such as silence and solitude. Thus, first, how do we, how do I myself, structure solitude and silence and meditation into my life?

There are four values in particular to which I would call attention: silence, solitude, meditation, and devotion. These are core spiritual values. My question, the challenge, is how do we corporately and structurally endorse and support these values? Apart from the contemplative life, or the contemplative experience in life, are we not as preachers like being fish out of water? We will soon dry up and die. As the Tao Te Ching puts it, "Fish cannot leave deep waters" (chap 36).  Antony, the father of monasticism, or Athanasius' life of Antony,  uses a similar image for the desert. It is for the monk what water is for the fish (Athanasius, Life of Antony, # 85). And Catherine of Siena writes, "For then the soul is in God and God in the soul just as the fish is in the sea and the sea in the fish"(The Dialogue, chap. 2, p. 27). Trying to live Dominican life in our world while ignoring regular observance is like fish trying to survive on dry  land. It's amazing how long we've been able to do it!

How do we, corporately, as a province, as a family, begin to support structurally these values? Can we discern whether they are values to be taken more seriously and more corporately? Community living is the locus for the practice of the yoga. Community living is like reality therapy, a therapeutic analogue from a therapeutic culture. It brings us, me, down from the heights. I think here of a line from Ram Dass.

It's very easy to break attachments to worldly games when you're sitting in a cave in the Himalayas. It's quite a different take you do of sex, power, money, fame, and sensual gratification in the middle of New York City in the United States with television and loving people around and great cooks and advertising and total support for all of the attachments. But there is the story of a monk who got very holy up on the mountain until he had some thousands of followers. After many years he went down into a city and he was in the town and somebody jostled him. He turned around angrily and that anger was a mark of how little work he had really done on himself. For all the work he had done he still hadn't clipped the seed of anger; he still got uptight when somebody pushed him around" (The Only Dance There Is, 1).

To have tasted the heights, or plummed the depths, but called to live in the world, in this world, in our world, to be a contemplative in the midst of action, a contemplative within the world, in the thick of it, this tension, vocation to which we are called can better be expressed poetically.

• O cursed blessing,
• O blessed curse.
• To have tasted heaven,
• And then returned to earth.

The observation of Ram Dass makes us aware of the need to be realistic, and of the fact that we are called to be contemplatives in the midst of an active world. We are not called to withdraw from the world with a world-negating spirituality but to be in the world, for the world, but as men and women whose experience of transcendence has something to offer the world. People are not looking for religious or priests or theologians who know a lot about God, but rather for men and women who have met God.

I recall an actual incident told me by a friend, who was told by the mother. The couple had a young child named Sam. When he was about three, they had another child, and Sam had now a young sister. At times Sam took kindly to her, at other times there were the manifestations of jealousy, sibling rivalry. The mother was always present when they were together. One day, however, Sam asked his mom, "Can I spend some time with my sister alone?" The mother did not want to display any mistrust of Sam, but at the same time was understandably a little nervous. But she had one of these child monitors in the bedroom, which allowed her to hear what transpires in her absence, so she said yes. So Sam was alone with his baby sister, by the crib, and his mom heard him say, " Sis, tell me about God; I think I'm beginning to forget."

Is this not a parable for Dominican life? Preach to us about Dominic. I think we are beginning to forget. Tell me about Catherine. I almost forgot. Help us to remember who and what we are -- intent on God, as Augustine said. A contemplative is someone who is intent, intentional, about God. Contemplation is being seized by God, in the inner recesses of our souls, and given the gift of infinite desire. It is simply the desire to be in God's presence, to live with and for God forever.

Three Suggestions/Options

I would like to offer three modest possibilities for the future before concluding.

1. My first suggestion is that those who seek, need, stronger structural supports for these aids to contemplative life form a network to pray, discuss, study, reflect, explore what we are talking about. If there are many of us, there can be more than one network.We can only move forward in this area by a total embrace of the regular life, which almost seems like an impossibility given the direction of our renewal and the secular context of our ministries. Yet there is a way forward with a network of spiritual beings, sharing, giving life, dedicated to a single purpose, the life divine, life in Christ, the Dominican yoga.

2. My second suggestion is that we begin to gather support for a more structured contemplative community of friars, within the province, or of friars and nuns and sisters, not a community of stricter observance,  not a closed community, but a community of spiritual seekers, sadhaks, who want to practice Dominican yoga in common, and of course share the fruits of that with others. It would be of course a very experimental and very traditional community, a Dominican ashram.

3. Finally, let's just do it. Let's commit ourselves to doing, practising Dominican yoga. Let's support one another. Let's pray and talk about our prayer. Let's study and inform others of our interests. Let's come together for a retreat around the Word at which we are both the contemplatives and the preachers.

I want to emphasize that these three suggestions or possibilities are not the only ones, nor that everyone is called to them. Within God's house there are many mansions, and within Dominic's family there are many varieties. What is most important is that we be faithful to what the Holy Spirit is asking of us, calling us to at this moment in our history. We know for certain that he is not calling us all to be alike, for the Spirit is the source of both unity and diversity in the Church and in the Dominican family. Can we not support, encourage, and praise each other for the varied ways that we can live authentically our Dominican life?

In Conclusion

We are friars, not monks; that is true, whatever that is intended to mean. There may be room among us for some Dominican monks; certainly there is for Dominican nuns. But most of us are friars, and the majority of Dominican women are sisters. And there are varied ways in which laity are affiliated with us. Thus, why this emphasis on Dominican contemplation? Is a contemplative way of being not essential to our study, beneficial for our preaching, foundational for our prayer? And, if so, can it all be done alone? One of the signs of our times is our addictiveness to activity, to being busy, acquisitiveness and inquisitiveness. We define ourselves by what we do. Yet the wisdom comes back to me: Few things in life are important.  Yes, there is so much to do, so much to learn, and such urgency about it all. But we must remember the words of the sage: It doesn't make any difference how fast you're going if you're headed in the wrong direction. Contemplation keeps us focused, keeps us centered, helps us to realize whether something has anything to do with the gospel or not. Contemplation keeps us focused on the gospel as food for  the soul.

But contemplation does need encouragement and support. I have learned many things, but at least two important things, during these past thirty years of renewal in religious life: (1) We have been overly optimistic about our humanity, and its capacity to do the truth, when it lacks the supports necessary; and (2) We don't want a form of religious life that is structured, but lacking in dynamism, vitality, life. In other words, we need structured life, but we want structured life. Is it not possible to strive after both? They are like the soul and the body, the within and the without. We can't have one without the other.

The common fraternal life is learning to live our aloneness together, sharing our solitude with each other, respecting the other's singularity. It challenges us, deepens us, frustrates us, confronts us with our egoisms, enriches us, disappoints us, rewards us. The structures of our lives make life together possible; they protect us from each other as well as offer us to each other. Both this self-protection and self-offering are important. If we were creating our way of life from scratch, we could probably not do better than Dominic did. But we can still do as well as Dominic did. Dominic was probably a missionary at heart, but his sense of mission was deeply grounded in his contemplative union with the crucified and risen Christ.

The long contemplative search goes on. There is no reason that a short period of time after Vatican II should have brought it to a close. We are not striving after a perfect life; we are yearning for a life giving path to pursue. As is often the case, we may already have what we're searching for. As T.S. Eliot wrote:

  We shall not cease from exploration

  And the end of all our exploring

  Will be to arrive where we started

  And know the place for the first time.

     ("Little Gidding")

But let me rather conclude with a hymn of praise.

• O save me, save me, Mightiest,
• Save me and set me free.
• O let the love that fills my breast
• Cling to thee lovingly.
• Grant me to taste how sweet thou art;
• Grant me but this, I pray,
• And never shall my love depart
• Or turn from thee away.
• Then I thy name shall magnify
• And tell thy praise abroad,
• For very love and gladness I
• Shall dance before my God.
  
  (12th century Vaishnavite poet, Tukaram, in A.C.Bouquet, Sacred Books of the World, ed. 1954: 246)

Works Cited

Athanasius, The Life of Antony.  Classics of Western Spirituality. New York: Paulist Press, 1980.

Sri Aurobindo, The Human Cycle. Pondicherry, India: Sri Aurobindo Ashram, 1977.

A.C. Bouquet, ed., Sacred Books of the World. London: Penquin Books, 1954.

Damian Byrne, O.P., A Pilgrimage of Faith.  Dublin: Dominican Publications, 1991.

Catherine of Siena, The Dialogue, trans. Suzanne Noffke, O.P.  Classics of Western Spirituality.  New York: Paulist Press, 1980.

Ram Dass, The Only Dance There Is.  New York: Doubleday, 1974.

Mircea Eliade, Yoga: Immortality and Freedom. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1969.