Here's a quick synopsis. Schneiders details how the idea of obedience developed between the 12th and 16th centuries, and became the de facto standard for centuries, until Vatican II changed it. She identifies three models of obedience that became rolled into the single idea: familial, military, and monarchical. With the parental model, since most who entered the convent in the 12th century were teenagers, life in the monastery was a continuation in many respects of life in the family. The types of respect and filial relationships continued in the convent with the superior as the parental figure, defining the relationship as mother-child. The second model comes from the motif of the Church, the good, fighting a war against the evil personified as Satan. The military model depends upon a construction off an enemy or opponent against which the Church militant must fight. Since the Church wages war, hierarchical military structures are needed. The superior is the commander. The third model is monarchical. By the 16th century, it was understood that monarchs ruled by divine right. So, the superior who is already parent and commander also acquires the divine right to be such. The result for the religious in this pre-Vatican II view is that one's way to God is through one's superior who has responsibility for the person's soul. The pre-Vatican II picture Schneiders paints is captured in this quote:
Coercion, possible or actual, was
intrinsic to the relation of obedience to authority. Thus, obedience in the
enchanted universe of preconciliar convent life, no matter how free and
willing, was not a relationship between equal adults seeking God’s will
together but an intrinsically hierarchical relation of domination (ideally
benevolent) and subordination (ideally willing) between “superior” and
“subject.” The superior commanded in God’s name; the subject responded to God
by submission to the superior. As long as one was not “doing one’s
own will” one could be sure that one was “doing God’s will.” From the novitiate
on Religious, were taught, “Even if the superior errs in commanding, the
subject never errs in obeying unless the action commanded is certainly sinful.”
The Religious who “keeps the Rule” could be sure that "Rule would keep
her."
Schneiders contrasts this with the post-Vatican II living of obedience. She identifies three differences quoted below:
- One is a certain necessary individualization in the way common obligations are discerned and fulfilled.
- A second difference is that many Religious Congregations, recognizing the fundamental equality and mutuality of all members, whether they are in office or not, have transformed monarchical structures of domination and submission into genuinely communitarian and collegial ones, and authority is no longer normally exercised by sanctioned commands.
- A third difference is the contemporary realization that different privileged mediations of God’s will in the community have differing weight and importance.
The most important kind of authority is relational authority. This is the kind of authority that characterizes people and is exercised among themselves. It is the primary type of authority exercised in Religious Congregations . . . In summary, we have placed relational authority in the category of persuasive power or influence that consists in the right to be heard and heeded. This right arises from relationships that may be natural, dialogical, or constructed by the conferral of authority on an officeholder. In other words, every member of a community has a right to be heard and heeded, and also to have access to power.
So, here's my final quote from Schneiders:
Religious Life, if is to be true to
itself, must be a communitarian lifeform that is fundamentally egalitarian and
interdependent rather than hierarchical and individualistic. It is not egalitarian in the
political sense of modern one-person-one-vote democracy but in the trinitarian
sense of interpersonal mutuality. Power, in such a lifeform, is a resource to
be shared within the community and with others through ministry. It is not the
possession of some, unavailable to others. Dialogue, the mutuality of authority
and obedience exercised in and for freedom, is the mode in which power is
exercised in such a community. All in the community speak with authority, that
is, with the right to be heard and heeded; and all in the community are called
to obey, that is, to respond appropriately to what the Spirit is saying through
the community’s discourse. By the vow of obedience one assumes one’s place as
an equal adult at the circular table of community discernment and dialogue and
commits oneself to stay at the table, no matter what, as the community works
out anew, from day to day, how to be together in community and in ministry.
I have thought about this long and hard, and reflected upon it for hours on end. I have described some of my experiences with the province to non-office holder members of the province as well as to spiritual directors and counselors who are religious but not members of our congregation. I have consulted with the psychologist who journeyed with me through the grieving process when my husband, Jim, died over five years ago. I have tried to make sure that it is not my ego being a horse's ass. And as I would describe some of the occurrences, I would notice heads start to shake in disbelief. Before I could ask the question, some would volunteer the comment, "You are not being heard." So, my three questions remain: (1) Can I be heard? (2) Can I be treated like a mature, 60 year old adult? (3) Is this province fossilized, an open (and open to change) or a closed system (and therefore dying)?
