Friday 29 April 2011


Am in Yercaud, a 'hill-station' in the Shevaroy Hills above Salem, Tamil Nadu. Place where I made my novitiate about... 35 years ago. I've been back twice in the last 2 years, and this is the third time. I find the place utterly beautiful - and most especially The Retreat, which is the Salesian property here. Used to belong to some British nob, I suppose, who was the one who had named it The Retreat.

These days the place is even more beautiful because of the vast quantities of pink thunder lilies that are blooming all over the place. There had been a thunder storm a few days before my arrival, and lo and behold: the lilies. I wonder if they spring up every time there is a storm, because Yercaud tends to have many storms all through the year, like the rest of Tamil Nadu, thanks to the three oceans. I don't remember thunder lilies at all in my novitiate year. Something new.

The other thing new is that the hills are a bit bare, after the culling of the silver oaks. I took the chance to go out a bit onto what used to seem thick forest 35 years ago. The rock formations, with the few remaining silver oaks, are utterly fascinating, almost chinese or Japanese. But why should I be thinking of them as Chinese or Japanese? perhaps because I have seen such rocks and hills mostly in Chinese and Japanese paintings. our own people don't seem to have captured mountains and crags in quite the same way.

As I was absorbing all this beauty, I spied a little path going almost over the mountain. And then, as I was still rambling around, along comes a worker from the dairy, walking in that direction. I managed to understand from his Tamil that he was actually going across the mountain, that his home was in that direction. As I watched, he walked, and, in a matter of minutes, disappeared over the crest. Things look far, but he actually took only a few minutes. I found myself thinking: I must do this walk in the two days remaining.

Wednesday 27 April 2011

Music, poetry, insight...

“From where do you get the music?” asks the very elegant Dean of Juillard’s in the movie August Rush. – “I hear it,” says August, very simply. “It is all around. When I get up in the morning, it is there in my head.”
And Robin Williams, the ‘Wizard’ says at some point to August: “The music is all around us. It comes to life through us. Through some of us.”
There is a very real sense in which music – and poetry, and all art, I guess – is not the work of deliberate subjectivity. The music, the words, the forms emerge, they are given, they arise… Die Sprache spricht, as Heidegger used to say. Man is only the Shepherd of Being, the clearing in which Being comes to light.
Strange that there is such an emergence even at the very heart of ordinary human intelligence: the pati character of insight, the fact that insight is not so much an action as a passion, the fact that it emerges, that we can prepare the ground for it, but that it is not under the direct control of the will. I cannot have an insight because I want to have it. It is given.
One of Heidegger’s great merits is to have recognized this happening character of so much of life. All the more significant because I have the impression that he did not inherit it from the tradition; it came from his own phenomenological observation.

St Benedict and the FMA

Today is the feast of St Benedict, and Savio mentioned Subiaco in his homily. The mention brought back memories... Subiaco, besides being associated forever with Benedict, is now also home to an ashram run by the Salesian Sisters. I discovered this astoundingly beautiful place quite by chance. I was working with the Scouts of Roma 60, and one of the monthly outings was, I was told, to a monastery above Subiaco. I was expecting cloistered or semi-cloistered nuns in long woollen habits and things. Imagine my surprise when I found nuns in knee-length grey habits, and with a suspiciously familiar cross. My suspicion turned out to be correct: they were indeed FMA, and they had been entrusted with this 1,100 year old hermitage of St Romualdo, if I am not mistaken. An utterly beautiful place. Almost impossible not to touch God and become a saint in such places.
In fact we witnessed miracles there. The guru of San Biagio - that was the name of the hermitage - was Sr Maria Pia Giudici, a poet, a writer, a nun with extraordinary spiritual abilities. Sr Maria Pia used to conduct lectio divina every morning, and she had the kind of directness that was able to cut to the heart. (We were, in fact, meditating on the text from the Acts of the Apostles where people listening to Peter were "cut to the heart"...) I remember her pointing directly to Fabrizio during the lectio. By the end of her talk, Fabrizio was in tears. But Maria Pia was not done with him. A Benedictine monk had come up for confessions, and she bundled Fabrizio into the sacristy where he was sitting. When he came out, he was in tears.
Then there was Maria, who sat next to a young Suor Renita all the time during the long rosary in front of a warm fire. By the end of the rosary Maria burst into tears and ran out of the room into the night. The girls followed her. She was sobbing. She could not understand: here is this sister, she is mad, she is absurd, but she is happy; and I, I am sad.

Conversion takes a long long time, of course. It takes God's time. We are no one to control the times. Waugh seemed to have known that. But there is the string, even when it is long.

Two nickels and five pennies

Here is a story from my collection. Touching, even though so American.

When an ice cream sundae cost much less, a boy entered a coffee shop and sat at a table. A waitress put a glass of water in front of him. "How much is an ice cream sundae?" "Fifty cents," replied the waitress. The little boy pulled his hand out of his pocket and studied a number of coins in it. "How much is a dish of plain ice cream?" he inquired. Some people were now waiting for a table, and the waitress was impatient. "Thirty-five cents," she said angrily. The little boy again counted the coins. "I'll have the plain ice cream." The waitress brought the ice cream and walked away. The boy finished, paid the cashier, and departed. When the waitress came back, she swallowed hard at what she saw. There, placed neatly beside the empty dish, were two nickels and five pennies -- her tip.

Milbank and Pickstock on Lonergan

From John Milbank and Catherine Pickstock's Truth in Aquinas, some comments on Lonergan.

Concerning those essences it cannot be deceived, in such a way that here it partakes infallibly of the divine power of intuitive recognition. (John Jenkins has recently refuted Lonergan's denial of this aspect of intellectual vision in Aquinas.) [Note 9: John I. Jenkins, Knoweldge and Faith in Thomas Aquinas (Cambridge: CUP, 1997) 107-11.

Perception and response

At Washington DC Metro Station, on a cold January morning in 2007, standing behind an upturned cap, a violinist played Bach pieces one after another for about an hour. During that time approximately two thousand people went through the station, most of them on their way to work. About twenty of them took notice of his presence and his performance, dug their hand into their pocket or wallet, flicked few coins into his cap-turned-begging-bowl, and walked away in their normal pace. Only six people stopped and stayed for a while to listen to him. When he finished after playing for an hour silence took over. No one noticed. No one applauded, nor was there any recognition. He collected $32.

No one knew that the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the best musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written, with a violin worth $3.5 million. Two days before he played the same pieces in a theatre in Boston where the seats were sold out months in advance and averaged $100. This is a real story. Joshua Bell playing incognito in the metro station was organized by the Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception, taste and people's responses. (Editor [Kurian Perumpallikunnel], "Last but Not Least," Vinayasadhana: Journal of Psycho-Spiritual Formation 1/2 [2010] 102.)

Thursday 21 April 2011

Post-secularism and post-post-modernism

My 'reactions' to various 'contemporary re-readings' of ... the Preventive System, and so on, are perhaps a symptom of the need to overcome hidden Enlightenment presuppositions that have infected so much of  current theology - even when it calls itself postmodern.

I would agree with Caputo that many postmoderns themselves need to be severely and seriously challenged on certain points: they are, many of them, for example, quite secularist: they have not seriously overcome or even challenged the Enlightenment tendency to downplay religion or rule it out of court.

Still, I do not think Caputo's re-reading of post-secularism is radical enough. Hauerwas and the Radical Orthodox are better here.

But Ratzinger / Benedict XVI also gives us a rather good direction, I think, a direction worth looking at seriously. 

Sunday 17 April 2011

The hidden string...

Waugh works out the hidden string... Sad, but poignant... and never finished. "We are God's work of art..."

Lord Marchmain on his deathbed, the priest being taken in by Julia, much against the normally placid Charles' objections, and Charles, strangely, finding himself praying for a sign:
The priest took the little silver box from his pocket and spoke again in Latin, touching the dying man with an oily wad; he finished what he had to do, put way the box and gave the final blessing. Suddenly Lord Marchmain moved his hand to his forehead; I thought he had felt the touch of the chrism and was wiping it away. 'O God,' I prayed, 'don't let him do that.' But there was no need for fear; the hand moved slowly down his breast, then to his shoulder, and Lord Marchmain made the sign of the cross. Then I knew that the sign I had asked for was not a little thing, not  passing nod of recognition, and a phrase came back to me from my childhood of the veil of the temple being rent from top to bottom. [Charles, Brideshead Revisited 859.] 
Julia bidding goodbye to Charles, despite her heart breaking:
'... But the worse I am, the more I need God. I can't shut myself out from his mercy. That is what it would mean; starting a life with you, without him. One can only hope to see one step ahead. But I saw today there was one thing unforgivable ... the bad thing I was on the point of doing, that I'm not quite bad enough to do; to set up a rival good to God's....' [Julia to Charles, 860.]
Charles (re)visiting Brideshead, and ending up in the chapel, long disused and now opened up once again for the soldiers:
There was one part of the house I had not yet visited, and I went there now. The chapel showed no ill-effects of its long neglect; the art-nouveau paint was as fresh and bright as ever; the art-nouveau lamp burned once more before the altar. I said a prayer, an ancient, new-learned form of words, and left, turning towards the camp.... [Charles, 864.]
Charles. Julia. Sebastian. Memorable characters. Sebastian perhaps the most lovable of them all. But Charles is impressive: no easy conversions for Waugh. He knows how it works, how messy an affair grace can be.

Cordelia describing how Sebastian might end:
   'I think I can tell you exactly, Charles. I've seen others like him, and I believe they are very near and dear to God. He'll live on, half in, half out of, the community, a familiar figure pottering round with his broom and his bunch of keys. He'll be a great favourite with the old fathers, something of a joke to the novices. Everyone will know about his drinking; he'll disappear for two or three days every month or so, and they'll all nod and smile and say in their various accents, "Old Sebastian's on the spree again," and then he'll come back dishevelled and shamefaced and be more devout for a day or two in the chapel. He'll probably have little hiding places about the garden where he keeps a bottle and takes  swig now and then on the sly. They'll bring him forward to act as guide, whenever they have an English-speaking visitor, and he will be completely charming so that before they go, they'll ask about him and perhaps be given a hint that he has high connexions at home. If he lives long enough, generations of missionaries in all kinds of remote places will think of him as a queer old character who was somehow part of the Home of their student days, and remember him in their masses. He'll develop little eccentricities of devotion, intense personal cults of his own; he'll be found in the chapel at odd times and missed when he's expected. then one morning, after one of his drinking bouts, he'll be picked up at the gate dying, and show by a mere flicker of the eyelid that he is conscious when they give him the last sacraments. It's not such a bad way of getting through one's life.'
   I thought of the youth with the teddy-bear under the flowering chestnuts. 'It's not what one would have foretold,' I said. 'I suppose he doesn't suffer?'
   'Oh, yes, I think he does. One can have no idea what the suffering may be, to be maimed as he is - no dignity, no power of will. No one is ever holy without suffering. It's taken that form with him....' [Cordelia to Charles, 842.]

Friday 15 April 2011

Waugh on grace

Waugh wrote Brideshead Revisited, on his own account, as an attempt to show how grace penetrates the most sordid of human realities. So far - I have reached the part where Sebastian's decline has begun, and Charles is discovering Julia - summer has turned to winter (and even in summer there is 'mid-winter in Sebastian's heart'), but there is not much evidence of grace. The good life, instead, continues - though, I suppose, Waugh is a great writer simply because he recognizes the worm in the apple, the deep pain that underlies being human, the wretchedness that we are constantly trying to run away from.

What I am just trying to say is that so far there is little evidence of grace. But decline becomes starkly evident. And I am reminded of Lonergan's wonderful words, when he asks, but where is our experience of grace? and answers:

Experience of grace, then, is as large as the Christian experi­ence of life. It is experience of man's capacity for self-transcendence, of his unrestricted openness to the intelligible, the true, the good. It is experience of a twofold frustration of that capacity: the objective frustration of life in a world distorted by sin; the subjective frustration of one's incapacity to break with one's own evil ways. It is experience of a trans­formation one did not bring about but rather underwent, as divine providence let evil take its course and vertical finality be heightened, as it let one's circumstances shift, one's disposi­tions change, new encounters occur, and – so gently and quietly – one’s heart be touched. It is the experience of a new communi­ty, in which faith and hope and charity dissolve rationaliza­tions, break determinisms, and reconcile the estranged and the alienated, and there is reaped the harvest of the Spirit that is '... love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, fidelity, gentleness, and self-control' (Gal. 5:22). ["Mission and the Spirit," A Third Collection 32-33.]

Wednesday 13 April 2011


Charles Ryder, the principal protagonist in Waugh's Brideshead Revisited, speaks of Youth, and says that of all things that characterize Youth, it is only langour that never returns. He is speaking of the languid month spent at Brideshead.... surrounded by so much beauty and well-being...
The languor of Youth - how unique and quintessential it is! How quickly, how irrecoverably, lost! The zest, the generous affections, the illusions, the despair, all the traditional attributes of Youth - all save this - come and go with us through life. These things are a part of life itself; but languor - the relaxation of yet unwearied sinews, the mind sequestered and self-regarding - that belongs to Youth alone and dies with it. Perhaps in the mansions of Limbo the heroes enjoy some such compensation for their loss of the Beatific Vision; perhaps the Beatific Vision itself has some remote kinship with this lowly experience; I, at any rate, believed myself very near heaven, during those languid days at Brideshead. (E. Waugh, Decline and Fall, Black Mischief, A Handful of Dust, Scoop, Put Out More Flags, Brideshead Revisited [London: W. Heinemann / Martin Secker & Warburg / Octopus Books, 1977] 710)
What a peculiarly English word it is, langour. Does it have any equivalent in our Indian languages, I wonder. But I can quite imagine it. 

Monday 11 April 2011

More on Anna Hazare

The front page of today's Indian Express (Mumbai, 11 April 2011) carries AH's endorsement of not only Nitish Kumar but also Modi. I would agree that both are chief ministers who seem to have delivered on the development front. But AH goes a step further, a step I would not take, when he declares: "I have described these chief ministers as good only partially. I will call them 100 per cent good only when they also accept the Lok Pal kind of system." 100% good - and so easily. That is cheap for a person who is, to all appearances, under a cloud of suspicion....

The centrepiece on p. 10 by Mihir S. Sharma seems to confirm my suspicions ("Not a very civil coup: Snuff out those candles: democratic society should trump civil society, every time.") Sharma speaks of the obvious RSS tilt: "Anna Hazare sat in front of the Bharat Mata icon that anyone who has nightmares about the Sangh will instantly recognise. The only genuinely popular leader on stage with him was Baba Ramdev, currently being used by the RSS as a stick with which to prod the BJP further to the right in UP. Ramdev turned up at Jantar Mantar on Friday with the RSS's Ram Madhav; Sanghis were around everywhere, performing havans."

Sharma goes on: "And, for me at least, the sight of all sorts of spiritual leaders of other denominations hanging around did not help at all; I trust that I am still allowed, as an Indian citizen, to feel that the spiritual component of Gandhi's politics was dangerous and misguided, confusing our definition of the secular - and having Swami Agnivesh, Deoband's Mahmood Madani and the Archbishop of Delhi lend their names and presence to Hazare and Ramdev disturbs me even more than if they had not been there."

Our author notes that Gandhi used his fasts against several different adversaries: the British, Ambedkar, and general sentiment during the Hindu-Muslim tension in 1924 and 1948. "Pushing for your preferred draft of a bill through fast-unto-death is more like Gandhi vs Ambedkar than Gandhi vs the Empire. Except, in this case, your opponents certainly have far more democratic legitimacy than you have. We are left with an act that loses much of its moral value because the means just don't fit the ends."
"And what about those ends? The Jan Lokpal bill is an abomination, a chaotic combination of bad, meaningless and disastrous ideas. (For the record, the government draft has serious flaws too, but not on this scale.) The 'institution' to which it intends to give birth should terrify us, a super-prosecutor subject to no checks on its power, capable of investigating and judging pretty much anything and anybody it wants."
"Let us not glorify middle-class anger when it is expressed as an antipathy to where democracy's gotten us, as fury at not having more power than is gifted by the vote you share with a villager. That way lies the pain and disillusionment of a dozen cuddly dictators." 
AH giving 100% to our chief ministers if only they accept his version of the Lokpal is like many good people in our India of today who are passionate about vegetarianism but not about dignity of people or communal massacres. Smoking and drinking are bad, but communalism is fine. There is something quite distressing about all this. 

The new atheism

Reflecting on atheism, Panikkar has something interesting to say. The really new thing in contemporary atheism, he says, is not the 'moderns' who have pronounced God dead. It is not even the phenomenon of practical atheism. "Rather, the new phenomenon in the contemporary movement of the West is that those who declare themselves believers define themselves as unbelievers by living with scarcely any vital reference to a transcendence that would condition them in any way." [The Silence of God: The Answer of the Buddha (Maryknoll: Orbis, 1989) 94.]

Saturday 9 April 2011

Virtue, passion and a critical spirit

I received a forward from my friend Raphael Neelamkavil this morning: "Anna Hazare Fights for a Just Cause: Let us Join Hands with Him." My reaction: let us not lose our critical capacities at this juncture. I  have great admiration for Anna Hazare, but I was somewhat sceptical about his movement, coming especially at the present juncture. My suspicions seem to be confirmed by editorials and pieces chiefly in the Indian Express. Here are some of them. I think we need to look at their arguments carefully. I respect Pratap Bhanu Mehta very much, from pieces by him that I have seen earlier.

"A bill that won't: The activists' draft Lokpal Bill is a mishmash of unworkable and dangerous ideas." Editorial, The Indian Express, Mumbai, Thursday, 7 April 2011, p. 10.

Pratap Bhanu Mehta, "On the whim of a few: The Jan Lokpal Bill agitation is subversive of democracy." The Indian Express, Mumbai, Thursday, 7 April 2011, p. 10.
Sometimes a sense of unbridled virtue can also subvert democrcy. the agitation by civil society ctivists over the Jan Lokpal Bill is a reminder of this uncomfortable truth. There is a great deal of justified consternation over corruption.... But the movement behind the Jan Lokpal Bill is crossing the lines of reasonableness. It is premised on an institutional imagination that is at best naive; at worst subversive of representative democracy. 
The claim that people are not represented by elected representatives, but are represented by their self-appointed guardians is disturbing. anyone who claims to be the 'authentic' voice of the people is treading on very thin ice indeed.
And this morning, again from the IE:

"Make it better: This anti-politics juggernaut is both contentless and dangerous." Editorial, IE Mumbai, Saturday, 9 April 2011, p. 12.

Bijayant 'Jay' Panda, "Cynicism vs hope: How odd that we should undermine democracy in this year of pro-democracy movements."
Two aspects of the public mood that are a cause of concern: (1) there is a cynicism about democracy itself, or at least about some of its basic tenets, like checks and balances. (2) This lynch mob mentality is reflected in civil society, which is otherwise the bulwark of democratic principles. [Though what might be the meaning of 'civil society' here, I am not clear about.] 
The idea that only a body of honest citizens with overarching powers - a benevolent dictatorship by another name - can tackle the country's problems is seductive. But that is a false hope. Those who seek uncomplicated alternatives to the rough and tumble of politics need not look too far for a dose of reality.
Most of AH's demands are desperately needed and must be implemented, but with two caveats. First, the demand by some activists that parliament be served a fait accompli, a bill drafted by eminent citizens that it must simply rubber stamp, is non-democratic and would set a dangerous precedent. ... The second caveat is that the activists should accept suggestions by eminent lawyers to ensure delineation of investigative and prosecutorial powers from judicial ones in the proposed bill....  
The Jantar Mantar movement is now poised at a crucial juncture. It could get irretrievably hijacked by those of Hazare's supporters who have scant respect fro politics. If wiser heads prevail - those who respect the institutions of democracy like Parliament and the courts - then we could well be at the cusp of a magical moment.
The editorial, in fact, questions the meaning of 'civil society':
What, after all, is civil society, and what privileges one group over another to speak for the nation? The only irrefutable proof that you represent the people is that they have voted you in, through a free election. If we have an imperfect democracy, popular energies must be directed to making it better, not rejecting it and replacing genuine political representatives with a coalition of self-appointed spokespeople. 
It goes on:
But such generalized invective against the entire political class is both empty and dangerous .... Besides, such anti-politics nearly always serves as a cover for politics. As Edmund Burke memorably wrote, this cynicism about politics and, by extension, Parliament only makes you "think ill of that every institution which, do what you will, you must religiously preserve, or you must give over all thoughts of being a free people." Those who seek insta-solutions to the tortuous processes of democracy would do well to ponder the alternative. They may see why the solutions to so many of our problems lie in empowering our legislatures and holding them more stringently and transparently to account. 

Christopher West and V.T. George

Christopher West: I wonder how old he is. Sounds young. And excessively energetic, in an irritating American way. I found myself contrasting his manner of speaking - the over-enthusiasm - with that of V.T. George: slow, not dramatic, heavily Malayalam accented, but wonderfully insightful and penetrating. It comes, perhaps, with age, wisdom, holiness.... When one has ceased to rely on self, and simply trusts the Word and the Spirit to do their work. 

Thursday 7 April 2011

A new line of reflection: man and woman together as image of God

Listening to Christopher West on the Theology of the Body. John Paul II is profound. West points out that, for the first time, the image of God is being discovered not in the individual human being, but in the coming together of man and woman. It strikes me that most of Western philosophy - and perhaps Indian thought too - has concentrated on the individual human being, indifferently male and female. John Paul II then begins a new line of reflection: man and woman together as image of God, as sacrament of God-Trinity-Love.

West notes of course that John Paul II is offering us a new analogy for the Holy Trinity, in line with the great psychological analogy of Augustine, taken up and systematically re-elaborated by Aquinas. 

Sunday 3 April 2011

'God is suffering'

One of the most original 'definitions' of God that I have come across is the one by the Parsi bawa in Pu La Despande's kathakathan 'Hundred Percent Pestonkaka.' God is suffering, Pestonkaka tells his long-suffering train companion Pu La. But it is like the pinches given by his wife, he says: there is pain but, because it is given by your wife, it is also pleasurable. Very interesting. A very theistic (personalist) view of suffering.

Benedict XVI on prayer

Benedict XVI sums up the Sermon on the Mount by saying that the human being can be understood only in the light of God, and that his life is made righteous only when lived in relation to God.

He continues: if being human is essentially about relation to God, it is clear that speaking with, and listening to, God is an essential part of it. That is why the Sermon on the Mount includes a teaching about prayer. The Lord tells us how to pray.

In Matthew's Gospel, the Lord's Prayer is preceded by a catechesis on prayer. Its main purpose is to warn us against false forms of prayer.

(1) Prayer must not become an occasion to show off: "it requires the discretion that is essential to a relation of love. God addresses every individual by a name that no one else knows, as Scripture tells us (cf. Rev. 2:17). God's love for each individual is totally personal and includes this mystery of  uniqueness that cannot be divulged to other human beings." This discretion, the Pope adds, does not exclude prayer in common. He invokes the example of the relationship between man and woman: there is a totally personal dimension that requires a zone of discretion for its protection, and at the same time the relationship in marriage and family by its very nature also includes public responsibility.

(2) Prayer must not be smothered in verbiage. Verbiage smothers the spirit. The danger of habitual formulas is the lack of attention. We are most attentive when we are driven by need to ask God for something, or prompted by a joyful heart to thank him for the good things he has given. But, most importantly, our relationship to God should not be confined to such momentary situations. It should be present as the bedrock of our soul. "In order for that to happen, this relation has to be constantly revived and the affairs of our everyday lives have to be constantly related back to it. The more the depths of our soul are directed to God, the better we will be able to pray. The more prayer is the foundation that upholds our entire existence, the more we will become men of peace.... This orientation pervasively shaping our whole consciousness, this silent presence of God at the heart of our thinking, our meditating, our being, is what we mean by 'prayer without ceasing.' This is ultimately what we mean by love of God, which is at the same time the condition and the driving force behind love of neighbour."

[J. Ratzinger / Benedict XVI, Jesus of Nazareth, (2007) 128-30.]

Friday 1 April 2011

Om sahanavavatu: prayer for student and teacher

Lovely to find this text, well-known from our JDV days, in the Taittiriya Upanisad:
Aum saha nav avatu, saha nau bhunaktu, saha viryam karvavahai, tejasvi nav adhitamastu ma vidvisavahai. aum! santih santih santih.
Aum! May [he] protect us both,
may [he] nourish us both,
may we acquire strength together,
may what we have studied be illuminating.
May we not hate each other.
Aum! Peace, peace, peace.
[Tr. of Som Raj Gupta, The Word Speaks to the Faustian Man: A translation and interpretation of the Prasthanatrayi and Sankara's bhasya for the participation of contemporary man (Delhi: MLBD, 1999) 3:93.]

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Rupnik, “E se l’evangelizzazione chiedesse una novità nella vita consacrata?” English summary