Key-Note Address - Dr. Andrea Pichlmeier, Passau, Germany

Our aim is to make the whole world Marist. If I said this to theologians or to anyone else in Germany they would frown. In German the word “Marist” (“maristisch”) sounds rather strange, if not ideological, like every word in German ending in “istisch”. Even my spiritual director told me last week that he knew there was a religious order called “Marists” but their name did not make him think of Mary. As students we used to make fun of the name by adding an x which turned “Marist” into Marxist. And the phrase, “the whole world” could sound imperialistic. Therefore I prefer not to use it. Even though it is not meant to be ideological or imperialistic at all. When we communicate faith we should be careful not to become obstacles to ourselves by using expressions which could be misunderstood. Whoever speaks of being “Marist” has to explain what is meant. Perhaps one should rather act “Marist” and not explain too much, for words are ambivalent. Today, however, I have to find words, and this is not easy.

“As we move through time the meanings of words shift, the implications of behaviour change: the same words, the same behaviour come to mean something different.” This is taken from a book written by the Dutch Marist, Jan Snijders, called “The Age of Mary.” (p. 12). It will therefore be wise to look at the word “Marist” closely. And not only at the word in question but at the text in which the word occurs. And at the context: the circumstances, the time in which it was spoken, the persons to whom it was spoken, and of course the person who first spoke it.

“Courage, our aim is nothing less than to make the whole world Marist,” Jean-Claude Colin said on November 20th 1837 (ES 1,1). Colin was then 47 years old and had been elected superior general the year before. There is a little story affiliated with this expression which is handed down to us along with the notes of the general chapter of the Society of Mary of 1854. Colin is talking about his journey to Rome in 1833 in order to achieve the approbation of the Society of Mary. He relates how he explained his project to the Italian Cardinal charged with dealing with the Marists. It would be a Society of Mary with four branches: priests, sisters, brothers, and a third order, all together under one superior general. The cardinal seemed to consider such an organization somewhat unrealistic and answered, maybe with a bit of irony, that in that case the whole world could become Marist. Colin answered: “Yes, that’s right, and you too. And also the pope. He shall be our chief.”(cf. ES 189,2). This is what you call “utopian”, deriving from the Greek word ou topos meaning no place. Such an idea doesn’t have a place in the world as we know it.

But where, then, does it find its place? In 1854 when his successor as superior general was elected, Colin spoke of these things very concretely. He spoke about the Third Order. Third Orders were widely known, the Benedictines had one, the Franciscans, the Dominicans. The Society of Mary, however, was not a religious order in the monastic sense and therefore, strictly speaking, was not in a position to establish a Third Order. Today we call it a lay branch, for in the Church we call “lay” all those who are not ordained or do not belong to any form of the consecrated life. As early as Father Colin’s time, however there was at least one secular priest who belonged to the Third Order of Mary, Jean-Marie Vianney, the Cure of Ars. Therefore even the term “lay branch” could be misleading. And Father Colin had something different in mind anyway. But for his idea no model or term existed. According to Colin potentially everyone was to belong to the Third Order, heretics excluded (cf. ES 120,1). But the latter probably wouldn’t be that much interested anyway.

So it was the Third Order at which Father Colin’s utopian thinking was aimed. The Third Order - he could become quite enthusiastic about it - would bring forth more saints than the religious congregation itself. The Third Order would cover the earth (cf. ES 189,2) Does this mean: making the whole world Marist? Should everyone join the Third Order? Is it possible that Father Colin meant it that way? Which world was he thinking of’? Which world do we have in mind?

“More than ever man is jealous of his freedom and independence,” Jean-Claude Colin stated in 1845 (cf. ES 99,1) He was talking about preaching. When you preach you should reflect upon the people you are preaching to, and the time in which those people and the preacher are living in. Father Colin knew his time. From childhood on, since the days of the French Revolution he above all knew the wounds this time had caused to the church and in his own personal life. He distrusted that time. He was also suspicious of the critical intellectuals who were sending out feelers toward democracy and freedom of religion. There was a paper called “Avenir” (meaning Future) which was engaged in furthering freedom of thought and belief. Its authors were convinced that faith does not have to fear freedom. The Roman Church in those days looked upon this matter differently. In 1864 the so-called Syllabus of Errors was published. It dealt with 80 errors condemned by Pope Pius IX. The freedom of thought and belief was among them. The faithful had to follow the Roman Church, and for this you did not need an opinion of your own. Father Colin did not think otherwise. The Second Vatican Council was still a hundred years away.

“More than ever man is jealous of his freedom and independence” This statement is certainly no less true today than in 1845. In our days people can decide which profession they want to choose, when they are going to found a family and how many children they are going to have. Whether they are going to have any at all. No one is entitled to prescribe to them what to think or even what to believe. The world has become split into many worlds, personal and collective ones, into political ideologies, fundamentalist and liberal. Not everyone draws profit from this multiplicity. Ten percent of Germans would be happy if they had ajob at all. In many southern countries women do not decide the number of their children. They get them, and no one asks whether they can feed them. The main losers are those not participating in the ruling (Western) culture. This dominant culture is the one which has written freedom and independence into its political platforms.

Two and a half years ago you experienced in your own country how fragile this freedom and independence is once there has set ablaze the hatred of those who do not understand this freedom and who are not in a position to participate in it. Since then you enter every airplane with a heavy heart and you are glad when you arrive safe in New York and back in Munich two weeks later. In every corner you place armed police, and your suitcase which you left behind for two minutes to get a cup of coffee might get seized and searched, although it contained only a few socks. This is how we today are jealous of our freedom and independence. We can only protect it by giving it up.

This is our world. This is not the whole world, of course, but only part of it. This world exists only in parts and fragments. And everyone in his or her way takes part in this fragmented world. You have your own part of it. And you might say: “Right, and therefore I will restrict myself to making my part of this world Marist.” Do we have to understand the words of the Marist founder this way: that I should make my own personal world Marist? Is that what he meant? Do we have to reduce these difficult words to a size easier to handle? But then it would lose its scope. It would no longer be utopian. The following I also read in Fr. Snijders’ book: “Interpretations are possibilities. We can know beforehand that certain interpretations are simply excluded, but we cannot beforehand delineate what is possible” (ibid. p. 18). Excluded certainly is a fundamentalist reading of the Marist sources. We cannot take the words of the Marist founder literally and not reflect on their meaning. If we do we end up with a lack: the lack of dialogue. And we need dialogue: between our time and Father Colin’s time and also among each other. Let us therefore enter into dialogue about what we call Marist. I received a letter from Mrs. Zirkel, in preparation for this conference. I believe she is present here today. She asked me to speak about the difference between “Marist” and “Marian”.

We find an essential definition of what is meant by “Marist” in the Constitutions of the Society of Mary of 1872. There is a paragraph dealing with the “Spirit of the Society” in which we read: Marists in all things are to think, feel judge and act as Mary. In Latin: Ut Maria cogitare, Ut Maria judicare, ut Maria sentire et agere debent in omnibus, in all things. (cf. CSM 1872, Fines, Art. I, No. 1) or briefly: ex ejus vita quasi vivere which means “to live as it were from her very life.” Is this possible: to think, feel, judge and act like another person? No it is not possible. I may judge one and the same thing similarly to or equally to another person. But when it comes to feeling, the differences become clear. Or who could take on the emotions of another person? I may understand them, and hopefully I will at least accept them. My feeling, however, will be a different one for I have a biography that is different from every other person.

If you cannot simply take on the feelings of your contemporaries, how should this be possible with Mary: Do we know at all what Mary felt? How well do we know her? You see, here we are on a completely different level. What can be known about Mary at all? Do we not know above all the prayers that we address to her and the places where she is being worshipped?

In other words, we perceive Mary clothed with the veneration that the faithful have dedicated to her, Mary who is the figure of Marian piety. People get in touch with Mary in the rosary. In our days a good number of people probably know only the Hail Mary. You can hear the Angelus rung every noon from the cathedral tower in Passau. A few may still say it. Those of my parents’ generation remember the daily Marian prayers in May. They especially remember them as having been the only occasion for them to go out to meet friends, maybe even their first boyfriend. And this was absolutely legitimate. Thanks to Mary. And then I remember having lived for four years in a neighborhood close to the famous Marian shrine of Altoetting in Upper Bavaria where after visiting the miraculous black statue of Mary in the chapel you would not miss a visit to the tavern. This is the Bavarian version of Marian piety.

The Protestants don’t like all this. They say: It is not biblical. (And they are right.) If you want to learn something about Mary you have to read the Bible. In the Bible, however, there is not much written about Mary. Father Colin understood that as well. “Mary has not caused much talk about herself,” he said, for “the Gospel mentions her only four times.” (cf. ES 116,8). I don’t know how he gets the number four, because the New Testament does mention Mary a bit more than four times. This, however, does not matter here, because Father Colin does not in the first instance refer to the Bible when speaking about Mary. Where, then, does he learn the way Mary thinks, feels, judges and acts?

From the mystics. In his deepest self Father Colin himself is a mystic. And he reads the mystics. He was especially fond of the visions of a Spanish author of the 18th century, Mary of Agreda. In her work, “The Mystical City” Mary of Agreda describes how the Virgin Mary is descending from heaven like the Holy City in the last book of the Bible, the Revelation of St. John. She describes how Mary, after her assumption into heaven, comes back onto the earth in order to support the Church, to nourish and console her. Does this ring a bell for you? “Consolator optime! Great consoler in our time, this is what we call the Holy Spirit in a famous medieval sequence used at Pentecost. Here we pray for the gift of the Holy Spirit until the second coming of the Lord. It is not Mary whom we expect, but Christ. His coming in glory we confess in the creed. And this will be the final redemption of the world.

But now let us listen to Jean-Claude Colin: “The Blessed Virgin has said: I was the support of the newborn church, and I will be so again at the end of time.” (ES 4,1). Where does this derive from? The visions of Mary of Agreda. There was already a word of Mary, a word standing at the very beginning of the Society of Mary. During a pilgrimage to the Black Madonna of Le Puy a young man was healed and consecrated himself to Mary. When he renewed his consecration he heard, as he says, “not with the ears of the body but with those of the heart: This is what I want...” And then followed the command of Mary: A religious society is to be founded in her name. Just as the Society of Jesus fought against the ideas of the Reformation, so this “Society of Mary” is to fight against the “impiety and unbelief’ of this “last age.” (cf. OM 2, Doc 7 18,5). The young man was called Jean-Claude Courveille and he was studying together with Jean-Claude Colin at the major seminary in Lyons. There he shared this experience and it found resonance in a few fellow students who wanted to realize Mary’s command.

Colin had no doubt that Mary would actively interfere in the destiny of the world. According to his understanding Mary embraces the whole of human history like a womb, and in the end a renewed mankind would be born out of her. Then the whole world, tout 1 ‘univers, would be Marist. Colin did not say tout le monde, everyone, but: tout 1 ‘universe, the universe, all in one. That Christ be all in one: alpha and omega, the beginning and the end. This we heard at the Easter Vigil ceremony when we consecrated the Easter candle. “Christ yesterday and today, the beginning and the end, alpha and omega. All time belongs to him, and all ages. To Him be glory and power through every age, forever.” Can we say the same about Mary? A professor of theology would say no. But Jean-Claude Colin was not a theology professor. In general theology professors do not found religious orders. Father Colin was a visionary. His charism was to perceive reality in larger contexts. He was able to win others to his vision, and an Italian cardinal who was not willing to share his vision did not disturb him too much.

Father Colin perceived the world in terms of the end of the world. And by “end” I do not mean its destruction, but its final destiny. Theologians speak of “eschatology”. For Colin, in order that we may not think, feel, judge and act toward a final destruction, Mary takes care of humankind. But why Mary? Why not Christ? Since he has taken up the cross and is risen from the dead humankind definitely is not to be destroyed. Why the initiative of Mary? Asking it this way will not get us any further. There is the word of Le Puy. And this word probably does not exist without reason. There will be reason for one having heard it, with the ears of the heart (Courveille) and for another having put it into practice (Colin).Both were convinced that it was a word spoken by Mary. Both experienced a lot of destruction in their lives and times. For Colin it was a special time: the age (saeculum, siecle) of Mary.

“This is the Age of Mary”, Father Colin said to his confreres in 1844 during a little meditation in the chapel. And then he explains why: “For this is an age of indifference, unbelief, an age of crime, of false learning” (cf. ES 78,2). In other words: It cannot go on this way. But if it does go on that way — and it looks as if it would — then this will be the end, destruction. There are people who say this about our time. And there was at least one moment in the history of God’s people when destruction seemed to be complete: the Babylonian Exile. At that time prophets rose up who called to mind God’s creative mercy: Jeremiah, Ezekiel. The time of deepest misery is the time of God’s unconditional support. God has revealed himself as a God listening and looking. God descends to save his people (Ex 3,7-8). Briefly, God is a merciful God who lets himself be moved by the misery of his people. God is full of compassion. The Old Testament in this context uses the word “rechem”, meaning womb. This is the root for the Hebrew word for mercy, “rachamim”.

And now we are back to Mary. ‘Mary is the Mother of Mercy”, says Fr. Colin (ef. ES 2,2). Therefore her Society has to have different branches. In her there is room for everyone. Not ou topos, no place, but: I do have a place. And where I find my place there I also find my destiny, my vocation.

There have been different explanations for why since the Middle Ages people again and again sought their refuge in Mary. Some theologians considered Mary as being the feminine — and thus the merciful — side of God. I am not quite convinced of this. First, because God is merciful in himself, and second, because I doubt whether mercy should be identified exclusively with woman. But Father Colin did draw this distinction when he said that the whole world was to become Marist. He said: “God the Father has appointed Our Lord as judge of the living and the dead. The Congregation of Jesus is a simple body. With the Jesuits you must have talents and many other things. In the Congregation of the Blessed Virgin it is not so. She is the Mother of Mercy. Her congregation will have many branches. It will be open to all kinds of people” (cf. ES, 2,1). When looking at Jesus Christ Father Colin has the Jesuits in mind, who have a strict selection process for candidates. This, he seems to tie together with the notion of justice. And he contrasts this with the Society of Mary: Here there shall be no strict selection process. Rather, all who are in need of mercy shall be welcome. This means every person living in the world. Therefore: the whole world Marist. But again: Shall everyone really become a Marist? What was a Marist in those times? What is a Marist today?

First of all you are Marists because you belong to the Marists. This may sound a bit simple, but it is the very first and irrefutable fact. You are part of the Marist community. You have your place within the community. Your road has at some stage crossed the road of a Marist, and this crossing point began to shine. This is how vocation works in the lives of many people. The roads of Jean-Claude Colin and Jean-Claude Courveille crossed each other, and the one discovered something in the experience of the other, which became important to him. This is how a vocation is born. Or how else should we imagine what we mean by “being called?”

You are probably not Marists because you have always wanted to be Marist. You have not become Marists because in the 21st century we entered into an “age of Mary.” Perhaps today for the first time you are reflecting on whether the Holy Spirit or Mary is comforting you. Or whether Mary will come back to earth before or after her son. Forget all that. To be a Marist does not mean to develop a special theology (which could easily turn into an ideology). If Father Colin had foreseen us trying to interpret his words he might have kept his mouth shut and said nothing at all. But he had to speak, for with his words he wanted to create a space in which men and women could find their place. Perhaps he felt that the particular vocabulary of his time had worn out. Perhaps it wasn’t capable of reaching people any more. We know that, at least in Germany we know it: We do not speak the language of the people any more. And I do not mean the language we use every day in the kitchen, at school and at work. This language is worn out as well. I mean a language that really touches people and moves them, a language that is comforting, encouraging and which opens people up, a language that opens new horizons. That is the language of vision. That is the language of Father Colin. Our difficulty may be that the words he once found are in their turn also worn out today. I showed you how words may hide their meaning when they are used in a fundamentalist way. Using them we should listen to them in the way that a child listens to fairy tales. Or the way we read poems.

What do I mean by that? You do not read fairy tales or poems in order to find an explanation of the world. By the way, you do not read the Bible either in order to find an explanation of the world. The Bible is given to us that we may learn to trust a God listening, looking upon us, and rescuing us. We read poems to grasp the mystery of the world. And we heard fairy tales as children in order to see that good is stronger than evil, and this, concretely, meant that in the dark we did not have to fear the wolf. This is the way Father Colin’s words about Mary should be read: Trust, for the world in its depth is good. It is like a womb in which you can grow. You will become new within it. You shall bring forth new things, which means being born and giving life. Becoming father and mother. Listening, comforting, giving hope. Receiving gifts.

Working and playing. And not forgetting to sleep, for the world is supporting you. This is tout 1 ‘univers mariste, the whole world Marist. We can’t make the world Marist, nor do we need to, for Colin did not say: rendre tout le monde, make the whole world marist, but tout 1 ‘univers, the universe. The universe, this is the foundation supporting us, God’s creation in which we have a place and a destiny.

There is no time to develop so many other wonderful things - the new group I met in Venezuela which welcomes both Marist Sisters and Marist Fathers; the young people I met in Peru; the many groups and activities in England, the great work the Marist Sister, Sr. Berise, has done in Australia; the many Champagnat groups in different countries; the New University groups in Mexico which are growing quite fast - and who study systematically the book Like a Bridge. I met some of them last year, and it was a great joy for me.

And what does it mean now, to be Marist in our world if we do not need to make this world Marist, but if we already have the gift of a Marian universe? I would like once again to return to the Constitutions of the Marist Fathers from 1872 and the words: ex ejus vita quasi vivere — to as it were live out of her very life. Here also we have to look closely. It does not read: to live her life, but to live out of her life, ex ejus vita. And it says, quasi, which means, as if, or as it were. Here too an image is placed before our eyes. If you can live out of Mary’s life, you will primarily live within it. You can enter her life like a room or a house. You can be within it, at home in it. In Mary. And then you can think, feel, judge and act as Mary. Not by copying her (which, as we have seen, is not possible), but by living in a world which is “like Mary”, merciful, receptive, bringing forth life.

This is the world redeemed by Christ. It is the world under God’s promise: Yahweh means I am here. I shall be with you. When you need me, and when I need you, I shall be here. I know your misery. I have descended to deliver you from all oppression. This is from the book of Exodus. I could just as well have quoted from another passage of Holy Scripture. And it needn’t be one which speaks of Mary. Perhaps this is “Marist.” You need not necessarily search for passages speaking of Mary. It can be different ones. But they will be passages making clear to us the relationship God is establishing with us: saving, healing, redeeming. Jean-Claude Colin apparently was able to find this saving, healing and redeeming God behind all justice and selection only in Mary. If this were the intention of Mary; to show to the world the merciful God (not only the merciful side of God), she of course needs the Society of Mary. Basically this is our mission as Christians; to proclaim the kindness of God. Not only to proclaim it, to make it visible. So that the world shall be able to sing the Magnificat with Mary.

I have to admit that to me the difference between “Marist” and “Marian” is not quite clear. Probably the pilgrimage town of Altoetting is “Marian”. The ringing of the cathedral bells at noon may be called Marian. And the rosary and the Angelus are said by Marists but by any other Catholic as well. And both do other things too: they read the Bible, and they share it with Protestants (in which case you speak of an ecumenical Bible meeting). They also read the newspaper and are moved by what is disturbing the world. They have no doubt that the freedom of thought and belief does not contradict their faith. In all this Marists do not distinguish themselves from other Christians. Probably they do not speak remarkably more about Mary than others. The only thing that distinguishes them is the fact that they are Marists. If they think or pray or act Marian, they do this as Marists. They belong to a specific community. If they are religious they observe specific rules given to them by their founder or — as there are also two branches of Marist sisters - their foundress. If they are lay people, they know themselves as united with these religious and among each other. So then, what is Marist?

Perhaps I may interpret your theme as follows: to look “Marist” upon the world. Upon those nearby and far away, Christians and Moslems, critical ones and obedient ones, happy ones and those who are suffering. To look upon the world ex ejus vita, as if living from her life, merciful, receptive and full of confidence, upon a world not destined for destruction but safe in God. This way you certainly will not “make the whole world Marist,” but you will (using an expression of the German theologian Karl Rahner) discover a lot of “anonymous Marists”, people living in a Marist way without being aware of it. And if you are asked, you can still say: To perceive the world as a redeemed one and to live accordingly I had to become a Marist.

Dr. Andrea Pichlmeier