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26 - Illumination

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Veni Creator Spiritus

Mentes tuorum visited

Imple superna gratia

Quae you Creastas pectora (1)

September 19, 1960. In the chapel of the Mother House, 3, Piazza del Sacro Cuore, Roma.

eyes closed, carried away by the melody of this hymn to the incantatory tone, I let myself be lulled by the gentle breeze that carries the Gregorian and his verses as I develop as many present from another world.

Come Creator Spirit,

visit the minds of those who are dear to you,

Filled with your presence

The hearts of your children.

twenty-four They are from all corners of the universe. Brothers, bleached in harness, having crossed the quarantine for most. Their obedience for the year 60-61 was assigned to the Grand novitiate in Rome, the Mecca of the Christians, the nerve center of the Kingdom of God on earth, powerful transmitter of Christian spiritual radiation.

Since the early 50s, every brother of the Sacred Heart there is normally a time in his life for a spiritual update. It made his big-novitiate as the French do their military service. It's mostly an obedience desired and expected, because of Rome and its prestige, because the journey dreamed that every brother who has done recounts the exciting adventures and also perhaps because it feels like a hunger, a taste of hard having spent years repeating the same lessons, correcting homework themselves, cope the same challenges of school organization, parish and community.

They are there, " hands open before You Lord" (2) (click on the picture to hear the song) heart overflowing with large or medium-sized expectations, some, without saying so, anxious to regain the fervor of their first flights in the religious life.

It is inside of everyone, as in Greek theaters, which is will the mystery of inner renewal.

The haunting incantations of Veni Creator penetrate into the pores of every waking consciousness. They align these apostles of the heart from all walks of life in a community of brothers who pray, introducing them into the sacred precincts of a time of grace, their baptismal regeneration.

Imple superna gratia

Quae you Creastas pectora

The echoes of that hymn meet within the walls of the chapel, they vibrate hopes corridors this austere general house, they use the roads varied each time the militants, their works covering a golden patina, reverberating around the world, wherever there are brothers who give themselves for life to bring forth in time eternal.

Accende lumen sensibus

infundibular amorem cordibus

Infirma nostri corporis

virtute firmans boonies.

Turns light into our lives

Fill our hearts with love,

Support your strength

The weakness of our bodies .

I'm leaving with them for this "spirit-athlon" that will push everyone to the end of his soul, on the border of his energies most secret.

Yes, in the month of May, I had made the request to the Reverend Brother who was greeted with delight. Brother Jehoshaphat (3), then Superior General, saw a natural complement, or even desired for each student enrolled at Jesus Magister. My colleagues, they feared that the desire of becoming a major superior standard. For me, it was like a decision to double or quits. I saw a last resort, the board hello to my religious life undermined from within by violent pulling.

These divine melodies of the Veni Creator silky wrap me in their diapers. I return to the initial state of my life, the sweetness of silence, the warm cocoon. This atmosphere of peace I had known my birth but I was then able to identify I miss and overwhelms me.

I must admit that after three months of vacation in the general house in the Roman heat wave and the look of felted major superiors, I regretted my commitment just to repeat once moreover, during a month long, the spiritual exercises that I knew to be made each year for six days before my perpetual profession for twenty-one days.

Besides the new lights that my readings and teachings received Jesus Magister had planned on theology and faith made me look up on a spirituality of military bearing colorful values of the sixteenth century.

What fly had stung so I spent three months of vacation with my superiors beloved in an empty house of his great-novice, so I could return to England to improve my English or I walk with our brothers in Spain, without having to abide by these severe exercises?

Exercises, a drastic remedy that would cure me forever. Thirty days locked in the silence, cut off from almost everything to me contort the soul a rigorous training in meditation and prayer. I had made this idea seemed like the only way to free myself from my shackles.

Magister courses to Jesus certainly had reason to believe my gloss. But it proved, reason and good reasons to believe do not have faith. My doubts were amplified during this time as a wind storm.

The eye of God, Cain continued to the bottom of the deepest caves, we said our book of sacred history. My ball, as the law of gravity needed to each of my steps. I prayed he was there, defying the echo of God's answer. I reasoned, he ridiculed all my arguments and I dared her to prove as two and two make four what I had said or believe. I was watching others live and I wondered if I was the only one to be afflicted with this cancer. Bring me all the answers or that I repeated my doubts before I ran down the back like I was "ugly duckling" that floundered in the right pond. In short, I was tired of dragging the ball. I ravines soul.

The theology course had flooded my mind of enlightenment. Revelation, what a wonder! The Bible, the treasures of life! The changing image of the Messiah and his expectations, the land flowing with milk and honey to the songs of the Servant of Yahweh, Isaiah, to the Sermon on the Mount (Lk 6, 20-23 ), which experiences of the human condition and the search for God. (4) The Beatitudes, collected in eight terse sentences, what poetry! What philosophy of life! What recipes for human adventure on Earth!

If it takes a religion to man, beyond any doubt that the Christian and Catholic who is best suited to his condition. Compared to other religious systems, Christian faith is a marvel of consistency and refinement. The quintessence of humanism as completed. Before the coming of Jesus, before and after the long and laborious experience of the Alliance in the Sinai desert, no religion has so clearly before the peak of human experience, the culmination of his quest and absolute happiness was in the relationship and whose free Song of Songs mark the final end.

Buddhism, which can have as many sages and saints of Christianity, limit the destiny of man to himself in control of his hopes and desires. For me the problem was not located in the choice of his religion. Another pool for the "Ugly Duckling"? No, but this pool and all pools of this ilk were a mirage that they could not conceal that the dry bones of a promise of life, any prophecy? (Ezekiel 37, 1 - ... 11)

This wonderful device that is the Christian religion is it connected to God or is it a decor in mind, this presence of God in human history, an illusion that is repeated and that fat as a legend or a set of signs, talking and coherent as I should, as a result of so many Others, like adopt a telescope that gives all its peculiar coloring? Was I a colorblind God? Should I not "get out of the closet" and live according to my true nature to expose the lie that I made any permanent painful introspection and disgusting? Such was my obsession.

I felt backed into a corner, a fight to the finish required. He had to cope. My life, with or without God, nothing less, "To be or not to be". Faith, I get it in the snatch. It will only make it or break it ...

Made in September, regretting my decision and doubting its effect, I was armed with some good volumes, proposing to occupy myself by reading the spare time between meetings or community-rigor convenience-(conferences, pious practices ...) rather than focus on the meditation of hackneyed themes proposed by the preacher of the retreat, coach of St. Ignatius.

I told my spiritual director, Father Brosseau, SJ, who was both preacher and retired chaplain at the general house. He had already glued the shoulders down and told me that my faith was "very or too proactive."

This time, it made me realize that it was not very logical to enroll in a course and follow it according to its own methods and participate, from the top of my platforms, Olympiads other. Invited to dinner with a friend, he was rather rude of them present with his lunch. Full of common sense! So I decided to follow humbly the scenario proposed by St. Ignatius and religiously apply the letter and all suggestions. This will be my discipline me in this tournament. It would be good!

Veni Creator Spiritus, I carry within me the suppliant into my room resonances. They will be the background sound of her accents that highlight the events of the drama that will take place, and will be the "cheerleader" of my games.

Week One - Principles and Foundations

Meditation on Hell

What I'm doing two hours of the night, prostrate on the floor of terrazzo my room, bearing the huge monster of my shadow cast by the flickering flame a small lighted candle by my side?

During the first week of the Exercises, Ignatius suggested we get up at night to resume the mediation of the day. I think the night is "religiogène. Even if the retreat was begun five days ago, it seemed, in the silence of the night, always hearing the modulations Veni Creator, which transported me into the car like a balloon until beyond the skies all painted or imagined, to the faceless god in the depths of his mystery.

The most wonderful night of Christian liturgy is undoubtedly that of Holy Saturday when, in darkness, we celebrate and we implore the light, flickering like life, gradually pierces the darkness as the course of modulations Gregorian sung a cappella. Religious sentiment is bewitching. St. Ignace, an accomplice of the night, was high priest and we cut out the supernatural with an accuracy of Druid, Large billhook scolding and smacking.

The Exercises of St. Ignatius are divided into four weeks, separated by a day off.

The first week focuses on Principles and foundations. It aims primarily to make us aware of our sinfulness.

The founder of the Jesuits pushed military precision to indicate for each meditation posture to take, to repeat the prayers and considerations to note. Here is the account of one of these nocturnal meditations noted in my diary of the retreat.

We meditate on the fire of hell. I propose to do meditation at night. As I lack imagination, I carry a candle. My goal: to convince me that the terrible suffering await me if I still prefer my ways to that of God. I imagine in advance three burns pretty deep, arranged in a triangle as a sign of profession of my faith. I am convinced, using scriptural texts, God's eternal fire threat those who turn from his ways.

I acknowledge that my attitude leads me to the opposite of God's ways. Everywhere, these are my standards, my designs, even holiness, which I direct, even in what I call spirituality. This attitude also led to the terrible doubt on the existence of God that haunts me. 'All my net does not is not fish, I decided. And my net was not picked as the tangible successes. It should, for they are true, that God and the supernatural marry my ways.

After this inquisition in order, it is the conviction. The conviction in a fire. This is where you lead your gross speculation. And I approach the flame of my left leg. Hair sizzle. I maintain a few seconds. It is untenable, I can not go, I remove the flame and collect my thoughts. It did nothing, I do not know more hell, it does not make me afraid.

I repeat the experiment on the fat of the right leg with the determination to hold on until I pick a decent impression of hell. The same phenomenon occurs and after a split second, I dropped everything ... and the mental and overall effect remains the same. I try to pray. I ask God to make me really know the wickedness of my ways. The left and right arms are in turn guinea pigs for the same experience with exactly the same result.

Finally, while praying, I try to think with my head. What have I done? I tried God. I finish my 'meditation' and said humbly: "My God, I beg you, let me know an intimate knowledge of the fire of hell and the wickedness of my ways leading to them."

This morning I examined the damage. Two small blisters on his right arm, a red spot on his left leg, absolutely nothing visible except a desert of hair on his left arm and right leg. Despite the advice of St. Ignatius, I burst out laughing.

Week Two: Contemplation of the mysteries of Jesus' life

For this week devoted entirely to the contemplation of the mysteries of the life of Jesus, St. Ignatius suggests that we engage in fasting as well as our fitness and our superiors permit. As a slave broke the most complete submission, I get this permission and j'embraye on fasting major cause, that of Gandhi focused on azimuth of the major releases.

As I am staying as a visitor to the table of the Master of novices, I served as a great restaurant by one or two large-novice older than I, assigned to service the master's table.

In the silence punctuated by the monotone reading of a text designed to color the day of exercises and the muffled noise of dishes, a simple nod, I say no to every dish that I was present. With ostentatious humility, I challenge in my head all judgments that may result as my fast with my "servants" than other guests at my table. Coffee, tea, wine, pasta and desserts are returned to each presentation by the simple oscillation of the head. The power of silence which cuts at its root while questioning any derogatory remarks, suggestions "useful," even any sign of disagreement or questioning a surprise hanging from the corner of mouth. The feeling of power of great rulers. In my head, I throne in the eyes of others as a mystery, an enigma that commands respect, Respect of enforced silence the voiceless.

I only take a glass of water accompanied by principle (at least eat something!) Of the thinnest slice possible. On bread and water, as the convicts.

I weigh between meals, like who would be enrolled in a weight loss program, the effects of all levels of my fast. Never, during the fifteen days it lasted, I did not feel any hunger or the taste of m'empiffrer jam or ice cream or anything. I have not noticed any signs of hallucinations, even during my nightly meditations. The cold and drought untouchable rigor of a bar chair in place. The spirit was lighter, it seemed to me, and emotions to zero.

I lived a "high", the "high" of a bar chair, that of emptiness, a foretaste of Nirvana ..

days off between each of the weeks-themes are often busy with special activities (Mass in the catacombs, visit Rome and its basilicas, visits to other students at Jesus Magister already stationed in Via del Mascherone, etc..).

So normal unaffected by this treatment resumed its facades and its mimics the basic routine: same thoughts, same attitudes, same game of hide and seek his deepest feelings, even monotony rites of prayer never abolished. But I felt like visiting the world, an alien that act facade and other custom bored.

I was eager to return to my lair to dissect them with the thoroughness of the surgeon, under the coldness of the knife, my mysteries and those of Jesus' life.

Bethlehem, the stripping of Christ, the smell of the stable, the ox and the ass, even the angels singing in the countryside just touched me. I was fascinated by the mystery of the Incarnation itself, the mystery of life in matter, in the flesh. Jesus, an entry point for a deeper mystery, my own mystery, that of my being, my life, my identity. St. Ignatius had to turn in his grave! Instead of contemplating Jesus to associate myself with fervor, I used these tools and I was using God to mold me to the image of an idealized clone of myself.

He was also the mystery of redemption. I had for some time as classified under the category of horror movies bloody presentations of Jesus, his crown of thorns, the close-ups of the nails that pierced his hands, and the sponge that mockingly tried to quench his thirst. It is sin that questioned me, the world's redemption through the sacrifice of blood of the son to his father, the meaning of suffering, death and life after death.

What is death and life after death for those who, in the truth of his conscience to be noted is outside the fold of God?

I turned the contemplation of God's gift to a selfish and petty philosophical reflection on the nonsense of my life. I committed, with the best intentions, a pernicious sacrilege the consecrated hosts to throw the swine. Blasphemy to set myself up to judge the designs of God, master of my fate to God in defiance of its grants. God-Jesus, an object, a mirror of my mysteries. I dug my grave ...

At the speed of lightning, it seemed that the light does not penetrate the depths of my dark lair. I myself sank. And yet, this exercise comforted me.

At the end of the second week I was there, a tightrope all captured by the shape and style to provide training exercises designed by St. Ignatius, barely aware of the threat of imbalance between two abysses, Me and God.

Despite all my efforts, I remained the same. Unlike the snake, aorès seven years old, I could not change my skin, I remained an inveterate rational, facing you, blind to the Other, absolutely unfit to raise the primordial gesture of surrender requirements for my spiritual survival.

I had to take the air out of my cave, I turned round.

Third week The general confession

September 23 - Day 20 Years

I leave the confessional in tears. According to the recommendation of St. Ignatius, I had to make a general confession. I could not contain my pain. All gates of the natural modesty had fallen. It has certainly been noticing in the chapel, but nobody ever refers.

What led me to this state of disrepair? My diary is very talkative on my paths of the third week. It does indicate that the bare fact that I remember like it was yesterday, and the decor of emotions surrounding it.

It is certain that the rigor of my fasting and lack of sleep due to my nocturnal meditations were not strangers to this extraordinary sensitivity.

After inviting us to contemplate the mysteries of God made flesh to save us from our sins, inviting us for St. Ignatius the third week, to insert ourselves in meditating on these mysteries of our sinfulness.

It was not so much revise the list of our accumulated sins nor do the autopsy posthumously, but to examine our attitude or our state of chronic sinner. All in all, to examine the damage concrete that original sin had produced in us.

I had never been very impressed by the dogma of original sin, at least in its childish and fabulous: our first parents, driven out of paradise and their descendants living in condemned suffer and die because of a twisted snake that had prompted them to disobedience of gluttony! A snake that was struggling to pass.

I taught, when necessary, lip, without dwelling on the details of this sin: the apple, nudity discovery, snake, sword of fire kept the garden ... I presented it especially as a narrative expressing one's concept was then the majesty of God, the smallness of man and his natural inability to achieve by itself his dreams of survival and happiness.

Later, I was surprised to learn that the main reason for the reluctance of the Church before the polygenism (hypothesis on the origin of man sustained by some anthropologists) came primarily from its incompatibility with the dogma of original sin already ruled. (Pius XII, Letter "Humani Generis ). Instead of devoting myself to a meditation on the theological truth, as my guide St. Ignatius, I carried my attention instead on my own original sin, on my attitudes toward God and their consequences in course of my existence.

From my childhood I have seen with pleasure, the pleasure of one who, adults, found in his attic toys that have fascinated the few times because I had known before my at Juvénat. I saw with joy on a seafloor spreads, as the azure blue, the three islands that had been my earthly paradises, places and times when God had been very close, come talk to me like in the paradise of our grandparents, Adam and Eve: the Cap-de-la-Madeleine , the Way of the Cross at the top of the stairs to the Good Friday potholed roads and the image of my mother praying before the Blessed Sacrament.

The rest of my encounters with God that brought the calendar with those of the surrounding culture, without reaching a repetition of daily rituals. These rites commanded the same gestures and the same attitudes of robotic submission: milking cows, the string family, the killing of the pig, Lent and Easter on the first Friday of the month, the Sunday Mass ..., the same mechanical had little impact on my quest for God. Their memories were washed away by time in its dungeons.

My unsuccessful quest for the Holy Grail began with my entry Juvénat. Like Jews in the desert, I brought with me a few idols and I made my own golden calves: the Trinitas Beatissima, a doll-icon I coddled and dressed in my own dreams, celebrations Christmas, Easter or Sacred Heart, that I had learned to chew out as the Jews had done before with their golden calf ....

In my work inside my log shows each recollection, to each retreat, a long series of repetitive resolutions unfulfilled, of spells and sacrifices, the smoke never rose above the sky of my navel. It also outlines the incantations repeatedly to large auction of indulgences that God gave me with that missed appointments. In short, repeated attempts to buy with the lotus sacred signs of my destiny.

The few oases: the annual retreats, occasional correspondence, or interviews with my spiritual director, brother Cyprian, a host of substitutes divine that reinforced my determination to continue my journey, no matter what. Stubbornness and harassment of crude to the divine. Jacob's struggle against the Angel, the heroic struggles of Gilgamesh, the all-out search of the Holy Grail, and closer to home, the gold rush. God I wanted to record on my tape, put it in the service of my personality always disappointed its reflections. Knowing that I was the son of God was not enough. A spoiled child, he had every day that the Magi from the east and offer me their presents m'encenser.

The sin of pride, the same who brought down Lucifer. The same that was to sacrilege committed with the requisite recklessness and a few famous people there, including many clergymen who have erected their throne on the tomb of the Servant of Yahweh poor and bare, without communicating to his soul, by downplaying the beams of light emanating from its radiant resurrection.

It does not trap more God that houses the sea in a husk of nuts. Instead of waiting for God who came, I challenged him, instead of welcoming this, I called intrusively, and instead of contemplating, I way with spoils of my being.

All these faults were taking root in the same soil, that of a disordered ambition and self-sufficient, the same that had fed the architects of the Tower of Babel.

I left this meditation in a state of disrepair as I had never known. The announcement of a cancer-free remission would not have more dismayed. All my horizons were closed. Job on his dunghill imploring the coming of the Redeemer.

Fourth week Enlightenment

I'm back from my general confession head bowed, not daring to look at anyone. Leave that followed allowed me to cover my moods of my old mask and back into the routine of my normal facial expressions. A pause after demolition and before reconstruction.

The fourth week urged us to "participate in the experience of the joy of the Risen Jesus."

I returned to my lair after the presentation referred to this last step, instead of my knees, stick me in the forehead on the floor, I opened the shutters of the window overlooking the entrance to the Mother House, I leaned both elbows on the windowsill, and the eyes are connected in periscope, I did a survey at one hundred and eighty degrees, a careful watch for the return of a dove holding in its beak an olive branch to sign a life news.

This dove, I saw emerge in the form of hummingbirds that they aspired thin tube life offered by a bouquet of colorful flowers. Elegance hung a subtle smile to my lips. Then came the birds, plugged into the wall of the Casa, happy as children, before whom is circulated coveted treats.

A car full of brothers dazzled visitors returning from their first trip to the Eternal City.

In the distance, sounds of a celestial harmony came from women who gathered in singing so tasty Pomodori (tomatoes) Italian.

Then I went for a walk in the park where life orchestrating his vibrant sounds. My eyes, armed with new glasses saw it everywhere as the third dimension of a film shot in Cinemascope.

At dinner that followed, my nod to the vertical information that I got my servers to life. Slowly, with the inner awareness of a gourmet, I savored each dish. The words of Jesus: "Man does not live by bread alone" was not taking the austere taste of the fast but of an exquisite pleasure of life.

Several years later, one morning on Mount Sinai (5) I saw the sun renew the creation of the world caught on to a cloud in the sky dark, erect around its rocks of Horeb, the color of ocher and red, enliven the landscape of puppets stealth passage of birds busy repeating throughout the world the message of the dove the olive branch. Discrete lizards glided over cold rocks looking for the best place in the sun. The crowd, silent and invisible, anonymous and gray, had gained the night on the cold, sharp slopes of the highest peaks of the mountain, gradually kindled multicolored shades drew paths through the assembly. Faces of all ages and all races hooded as pilgrims descend upon the sacred mountain, carrying the sacrament of a life that took over every morning and day by day.

So my rebirth to life by instinct took over as the paths of the world's creation.

Soon, by virtue of an indescribable sight set on a fourth dimension, I would receive a discreet presence in this life that every day regenerate our planet. It appeared to me slowly, following the handling of a mysterious "zoom" who knew the track down to the smallest folds, as if it had always been there.

I knew pretty well all the texts of the Gospels that reported multiple realizations of the presence of the risen Jesus after his descent into the underworld of death.

Following Jesus Magister course, my thoughts had convinced me that the resurrection of Jesus was not verifiable historical fact about how the events that mark human history. It is faith that has included this important event in the lineage of the great deeds of mankind, not the parameters the science of history. Submit the fact of the resurrection to the rigor of science, he siphoned his soul. In simple, modern, I was sure that a camera hidden in the tomb of Jesus could not save her or his resurrection from the tomb.

Limit the resurrection of an act of divine power which demonstrated beyond any doubt the superiority of Christianity over other religions seemed like a coffee decaffeinated released all its virtues and all flavor. I also learned, our discussions Coffee Cultural in authentic, that the benefits of the resurrection of Jesus does not just picked as a windfall after death as a reward for the faithful discharge of our duties as Christians.

Baptism we were plunged, as expressed in the ancient rites-the tomb of Jesus to take us to the bridal gown, the chandelier in the resurrection of Jesus.

I knew all that, but it was cut compartmentalized knowledge of the spiritual life, a peasant who continued the grueling autumn plowing with his oxen, while a brand new tractor was sleeping in his shed.

Instead of rehashing the data and learned theological reconvaincre me, phrases like "sperabamus" disciples of Emmaus, the story of visiting the holy women at the tomb, one appearances to the disciples together, and so on. enabled me to see the resurrection as a presence, not that of Jesus and radiant makeup for this parousia as presented in the holy images, but a discreet presence in the heart of human restlessness: the heart of the expectations of Mary Magdalene node in the disappointments of the disciples, the excitement of Peter, Thomas challenges ... Then, the logical consequence of this vision appeared to me as written in letters of fire on the sky of the climb when a cloud came subtract Jesus the eyes of his disciples and two angels without wings told them: "Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking into heaven? "(Acts 1, 9-11). It is on the ground that Jesus is present. His Incarnation did not end with her death, she extended to us the power of his resurrection.

It was key that I introduce myself to lock in all of human existence, that of young and old, beggars and the ignorant, those also of good and evil, birth and death, time and eternity.

Any spark of love between humans, whatever the label affixed to it, be they Arab, miscreants, thieves, prostitutes, any spark of love signed on a daily basis repeatedly, the presence of the risen Jesus and melted all the hopes for survival of our humanity.

I spent the rest of retirement as a cloud hanging with my magnifying telescope in four dimensions. I trained in its use, to refine my view of all being. My new readings of the world relied entirely new interpretations and my history and that of the universe, they drew new scenarios apostolic and justified the fondest hopes. I won I believe it, forever, illuminated by a light you can put it under a bushel.

Veni Creator Spiritus - Come, Creator Spirit

Imple superna gratia - Fill your presence

Quae Creastas pectora you - the hearts of your children.

Click on the picture to hear another version of the hymn Veni Creator

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(1) The most beautiful hymn of Christian liturgy. It was composed by Raban Maure in the ninth century and is normally associated with the Roman Catholic Church .- For more information and the text in Latin and French, cf. Wilkipedia

(2) Song of John Littleton who often appeared on the program of songs in religious professions. A song prayer which marks the availability of the consecrated host to the divine gifts.

(3) Jehoshaphat's brother was the first brother Quebecois was elected superior general Institute. He moved to Rome the general house located in Paradise in France. He installed the Grand Novitiate. Under his leadership, the Institute also knew a great missionary expansion. See The Brothers of the Sacred Heart in Canada by Jean-Claude Ethier SC

(4) Waiting for the Messiah and the fulfillment of the promises that accompanied it was refined during the history of the people of God. King Messiah is the triumph has come to expect the Servant of Yahweh, poor and overwhelmed with opprobrium; milk and honey of the Promised Land became the "Blessed are the poor" of the Sermon on the Mount.

(5) On a trip to Egypt, I had the "tourist attraction" to go watch the sunrise Galarneau upper slopes of Sinai. I was then marked by the strong impression of having witnessed the creation of the world.

retirement had my cataracts removed, the same world view and life as I knew in the fourth week of the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius.

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The chronicle of Jean-Claude

Jean-Claude, my lifelong friend and brother in religion, emeritus member of the group of pioneers Magister de Jesus (1958-61) and called us by name Nabi (prophet), has agreed to draw back of the stage of memoirs, a chronicle that recounts year by year from 1957 to 1970) the evolution of the Brothers of the Sacred Heart located in seven provinces in Canada Community, of which six are located Quebec.

Brother Jean-Claude Ethier SC resident Arthabaska (Victoriaville today), instead of the first home founded by the Brothers of the Sacred Heart in Canada in 1872 and headquarters of the only province since 2002 includes all the Brothers of the Sacred Heart on Canadian soil.

Six years ago, in October 2004, Brother Ethier was publishing "The Brotherhood of the Sacred Heart - Their apostolate in Canada (1900-2004). Brother Ethier knows the small and large history of the Institute. He was assigned to his province (Ottawa) to the two general chapters that have made an important post-conciliar revision of the Rules and Constitutions of the community. For six years he served as provincial superior of the province and district of the Philippines. Subsequently, he participated in the merger of Canadian provinces and, as secretary, tasks succession process and the institutional arrangement of institutions belonging to the community.

He spent nine years as provincial director of Christian education (French sector) for the Assembly of Bishops of Ontario and, from the 1990s, during nine years as national coordinator of Christian education (French sector) for the Conference of Catholic Bishops of Canada.

Still active, brother Jean-Claude serves his community as assistant secretary of the provincial administration. For nine years, he publishes The Link, a weekly newsletter sent to members of his community. In addition, he performs for his community in many translation tasks and writing.

The chronicle of Jean-Claude highlight the major changes in the lives of members of the community from 1957 to 1970 and identify the statistics that mark the evolution of the size of the community during this period.

His life is summed at the last sentence of his book:

Educator of the Faith, a vocation that does not flatten, surely a road take.

Jean-Claude, we'll repeat: "Ad multos annos and faustissimos! as it was in time.

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is the first installment of the Chronicles of Jean-Claude :

CHRONIC

1958-1971

PRELIMINARY

To write this column, I consulted DIRECTORY OF THE INSTITUTE Brothers of the Sacred Heart . It is its source. The number shown will therefore refer. This book is published since the late 1940s to the General House in Rome, Italy.

The scope of my research was limited to the provinces Canadian community who, for the period 1958-1971, were seven in number: the provinces of Arthabaska, Granby, Montreal, Quebec, Rimouski, Sherbrooke and Ottawa.

The things I learned and who formed what I call the "grid" of my study are:

- staff

- Training and studies

- open houses

- the closure of homes

- the missions

- works

- events

- the basic law

- new initiatives

I think exploration, however short, the period 1958-1970 can shed much light on how the brothers have tried to cope with the challenges of "new times", the upheaval brought by the quiet revolution in the traditional areas of mission, fraternal and community life, exercise of authority and spiritual vision.

Jean-Claude Ethier, SC

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DIRECTORY 1957-1958
No. 52
An important

The general chapter held from September 21 to October 6, 1958 resulted in a report on the status of the institute in which it was reported that emerged as major issues during the past six years had elapsed (1952-1958);

- the institute has grown from 11 to 15 provinces

- Number of brothers went from 2428 to 2745

- there was opening of works in five countries: Cameroon, Netherlands, New Caledonia, Ivory Coast, Philippines

- the brothers are moving more towards secondary schools

- youth training, succession is significantly prolonged

- to extend the training of young people has a significant impact on the number of brothers that superiors may assign to the same schools

- we can see a push toward higher education among brothers; an institute of higher education in religious studies has been established: Jesus Magister

- there more and more collaboration between the provinces in studies of young trainees

- Jehoshaphat's brother was elected superior general for a second term

in the seven provinces Canadian

- Television enters houses

- the juniors now have three weeks vacation in their family

- there is closure of nine stations in Quebec and Saskatchewan

previous seven Canadian provinces :

- 1423 professed

- 59 novices

- 912 juniors

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- DIRECTORY 1958-1959

No. 53

In the chronicle of the province Arthabaska community, it is reported that there are 119 brothers who devote themselves in schools, while there are 92 who are assigned to positions either in government or in the training of young aspirants, or community service; also, there are those who are in school or retired. This is very significant.

In the province of Montreal, a sign of changing course, the brothers work in 11 secondary schools and 14 elementary schools.

is stepping up efforts to recruit young high school.

The training environments (nuns, novitiate, seminary) are not as tight as before, where each province had its own organization, we demonstrated flexibility, collaboration, taking into account staff in place, program of study. Youth during the cycle: nuns, novitiate and seminary (formerly in succession in the same place) are often required to travel, not more than one neighborhood to another in the same house but in a training environment, often outside the province to which community they belong.

There were eight closures houses.

In the area of missions, we must add the foundation in the Philippines (already planned) and that of Senegal.

Home Provincial Arthabaska is engaged laity for service in the kitchen.

previous seven Canadian provinces:

- 1432 professed

- 51 novices

- 908 juniors

To be continued ...

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Next issue: # 27 - The alternative