The Changing Nature of the Spirituality of the Sisters of Our Lady of the Missions
in New Zealand and its Relationship to Their Changing Mission.
Susan Smith
The first Sisters of the Congregation of Our Lady of the Missions (hereafter referred to as RNDMs, the acronym derived from their French name, Religieuses de Notre Dame des Missions), founded by French woman Euphrasie Barbier in 1861, journeyed from France to New Zealand in 1865. They were part of that 19th century enterprise that saw European missionaries from Catholic and Protestant churches going to “the ends of the earth” to bring the good news to those who did not know the Christian God. Their missionary goal was the care of women and children through the work of Christian education. In carrying out this task, their ministry among women and children reproduced as far as was possible what was occurring in post- revolutionary France, particularly in Lyon. In the wake of the French Revolution, Catholic church authorities in France had recognised the need for women to work with other women in an effort to foster and enhance family life particularly among those less well economically placed. This episcopal imperative led to the foundation of many congregations of Catholic sisters in France. To sustain and motivate them in such missionary endeavours in France and in far flung colonies, RNDMs, like other Catholic sisters, brought with them to New Zealand a spirituality that mirrored the patterns of spirituality characteristic of 19th century French Catholicism.
Catholic involvement in “the foreign missions” in the 19th century is best described as ecclesiocentric. It was a particular historical expression of what David Bosch identifies as the “medieval Roman Catholic missionary paradigm” (Bosch 1991: 214-238). In the context of 19th century Catholicism, the missionary activity that flowed from an ecclesiocentric theology of mission aimed to establish the church where it had not yet established through the conversion of the indigenous peoples, and to ensure the religious and pastoral well-being of the various migrant Catholic communities in the new world.
The first French Catholic missionaries, Marist priests and brothers, who came to Aotearoa New Zealand in 1838, directed their mission almost exclusively to Maori. However, in the wake of the New Zealand land wars, and the influx of immigrants that both precipitated those wars, and which increased after them, the Catholic church began to direct its energies toward a rapidly growing immigrant, predominantly Irish, population. Through their involvement in the Catholic education of settler children, the RNDMs were part of this movement toward the settler population. The most notable exception to this was their work of education for Maori girls in Napier. A boarding school establishment, known as the Providence, was established in 1869, and later became known as St Joseph’s Maori Girls’ College.
In this paper, I wish to examine the spirituality that informed RNDM missionary activity prior to Vatican II. I will argue that it was essentially a spirituality that reflected patriarchal culture’s perceptions regarding the place of women in society, and in the mission of the church. (I use the word “spirituality” rather than theology because in the 19th century, Catholic women could not formally study theology. Therefore, while Euphrasie wrote extensively for her young community, this writing was not considered to be theological. Formal theological education was virtually restricted to those men preparing for ordination, and so it is more appropriate to speak of Euphrasie’s spirituality rather than of her theology). Given the strength of the prevailing patriarchal culture characteristic of the Catholic church in the 19th century, RNDMs almost without exception subscribed to a spirituality that reinforced their ancillary status in the church’s missionary activity, as an examination of key elements in the spirituality of Euphrasie Barbier will make apparent. The spirituality she fostered in her sisters was suited to the requirements of a patriarchal culture that understood women’s missionary role as subordinate to that of the ordained ministers.
A soteriological theology informed the missionary work of RNDMs, and the need to save people from their sin was of paramount importance. Even though it was not official Catholic teaching, most RNDMs would have believed that salvation was more likely to occur through membership in the church than outside of the church. Furthermore, RNDM 19th century missionary activity, influenced by the Enlightenment ideology of progress, believed that there was a close relationship between conversion and civilisation. In other words it was a model of mission that reflected European cultural dominance, not simply political and economic dominance.
In this model of mission, the sacramental ministry of the priest was prioritised over other forms of missionary activity. In the grand scheme of things, women, such as the RNDMs were to devote themselves to the important but secondary work of education of women and children, and to other works of charity, such as orphanages, and care of the sick on “the foreign missions.” These works of charity were not conceived of as professions. They were understood as extensions of women’s domestic roles as child bearers, child nurturers. In particular, women were entrusted by the church leadership with responsibility for ensuring the well-being of the family, because it was good Catholic families that would foster vocations to the priesthood, and to religious life (DeGiorgio 1993: 196; Simpson 1994: 205). Another way perhaps of understanding the mission of women is that they were to attend to the corporal, that is, bodily works of mercy.
In order better to explain what I mean, I will refer in greater detail to the trinitarian, christological and mariological character of Euphrasie’s spirituality. I will then examine the changes that have occurred in the last quarter of the 20th century and which have led to significant changes in RNDM spirituality and missionary activity in Aotearoa New Zealand.
For Euphrasie, the key missionary text was Jn 20:21-22 (Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father sent me, so I send you.” When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit”). Euphrasie readily recognised the trinitarian significance of this text for mission. However, her understanding of this key text meant that she perceived mission in hierarchical categories: the Father sends the Son, the Son sends the Spirit, and by extension, the Spirit is with pope, bishops and priests in the exercise of their mission, and they in turn involve women in a subordinate capacity. It was an interpretation of John 20:21-22 that encouraged “high” missiologies and “high” ecclesiologies. It emphasised that for RNDMs the important virtues that should characterise them in their mission were humility and obedience. The second official biographer of Euphrasie, French Jesuit, Charles Couturier, wrote:
Enlightened by the Holy Spirit, Mother Mary of the Heart of Jesus [the religious name taken by Euphrasie Barbier] saw something forgotten, or never realised by man: the mission of the divine Persons is the whole, unique and inexhaustible source of man’s salvation; to share in it is to depend wholly upon the Father through the Son in the Spirit; the Church is born of the work of the Spirit out of an intimate union with Christ, who has been sent by the Father…As humble instruments of the Missions of the Divine Persons, the sisters were to make their own Christ’s statement: “My food is to do the will of him who sent me, and to accomplish his work” (John 4:34); their ideal model was to be Mary the perfect handmaid of the Lord (Couturier 1966: 58).
Or as Euphrasie herself put it:
Regarding the expression ‘divine Missions’, we have redrafted this article [for the Constitutions] showing clearly that we, who are nothing, do not have in mind our own poor missions, but solely the Mission of the Incarnate Word, sent by God the Father to redeem the human race, and the divine Mission of the Holy Spirit, sent by the Father and the Son to bring about the sanctification of Christ’s Church. This is the raison d’être of the Institute, and its special characteristic, both interior and exterior (Barbier: 150).
Euphrasie’s understanding of the trinitarian nature of mission meant that the spirituality she wished to foster in her sisters was one that would encourage them to generously and humbly accept their task of contributing to “the sanctification of Christ’s church.” Direction as to how this would be achieved would be the responsibility of the appropriate church authorities, which saw in the educational and social ministries of Catholic sisters a foundational support for the sacramental ministry of the priest.
Euphrasie’s decision to send her young sisters to Aotearoa New Zealand was in response to the invitation of French Marist Bishop, Bishop Viard to be involved in the education of settler children, rather than in the education of “pagans,” that is Maori children. This was a work identified by Bishop Viard as a pastoral priority. In particular in Napier, the first foundation in Aotearoa New Zealand, it involved RNDMs in the education of children of soldiers belonging to the 14th and 65th regiments. Both regiments were involved in the government offensive against Maori anxious to prevent further land alienation.
Euphrasie’s christology directed attention to a Jesus who exemplified self-sacrificing love and obedience to the will of the Father, precisely the qualities that Euphrasie identified as important for her sisters. Jesus, who was obedient even unto death, captured Euphrasie’s imagination. Euphrasie’s christology, which drew on John 1:1-18 and Philippians 2:6-11, allowed her to hold on to a “high” christology that did not diminish the suffering and humiliation of the earthly Jesus. She reflected on the meaning of Holy Week:
May this great week be for each of us a Holy Week! And let us sincerely try to see what religious virtues we ought to acquire in order to attain purity of heart and an intimate, genuine and lasting union with our God. The sight of his suffering, his blood, his death should move our hearts (Barbier: 162-163).
Euphrasie wanted her sisters to imitate the example of Jesus in order to prepare themselves for the foreign missions. It was a commonly held belief that martyrdom was the privileged “means of fertilising the mission field” (Laracy 1976-7: 193). Laracy’s comments concerning this dimension of 19th century French Catholic missionary spirituality allow the contemporary reader to appreciate the emphasis on self-sacrifice characteristic of Euphrasie’s spirituality, and how she perceived its development as important for those who wished to go on the “foreign missions.” Laracy states:
In the first place, death was accepted as the proper and not unlikely consummation of a total commitment of self that had already in principle been made. It was implied in the abandonment of home and country, to run risks (well known to the readers of the Annales de la Propagation de la Foi, of taking the Gospel among strange - and possibly savage - people…In addition to being the ultimate expression of personal piety, martyrdom was also esteemed as a means of fertilising the mission field (Laracy 1976-7: 192-193).
A life of self-sacrifice and self-abnegation modelled on that of Jesus was regarded as the most appropriate preparation for life on the missions, and for possible martyrdom. Euphrasie was aware of the martyrdom of French Marist priest, Peter Chanel at Futuna. The possibility of martyrdom persuaded her that an ascetical and penitential life would serve as a preparation the suffering, even possible death that the missionary life could mean (see Couturier 1966: 62). That this emphasis was important for RNDMs is obvious in a 1948 RNDM publication which contains a fictionalised conversation between Euphrasie and a young postulant. Euphrasie says in response to a postulant’s hope that she would be martyred in New Zealand given the presumed “cannibalistic” tendencies of Maori:
That is not a very healthy conversation for you, my dear children. The Marist Fathers have gone to New Zealand, and they do not talk of such happenings. Some of them have been martyred, it is true, but not in New Zealand. There was that holy young priest, Father Peter Chanel who was martyred at Futuna twenty-three years ago. But even if such things did happen, what does it matter as long as we live and die for our dear Lord? Was not St Blandina martyred near this very spot [Lyon] where we are now seated? She was a young and tender girl, and a recent convert from paganism…Remember, dear Sisters, that there is a resurrection of the body. God will gather up our mortal remains if they are in the depths of the sea, or the dark mountain caves. There are other ways of suffering for our Lord beside martyrdom which is a special grace granted to a few. Surely the daughters of Our Lady of the Missions are ready to suffer for our dearest Lord whatever He asks you to endure for Him! (Anonymous 1948: 28-29).
Closely related to the importance of suffering for the development of a strong spiritual life was Euphrasie’s emphasis on making reparation for sin with Jesus, the “divine victim.”
In the Church, there is only one Victim, only one Sacrifice. We are going to live no longer for ourselves but for Christ and our life is hidden in His, in God. Our life is a Mass, that is, a liturgical act, a perpetual prayer for ourselves and for others. We enter into it joyfully, clothed with Christ (Barbier: 221).
She later tells her sisters: “In the Eucharist, He remains there abandoned, and despised by the greater part of mankind in order to be the strength and consolation of a few faithful souls” (Barbier: 25). Euphrasie sought to imitate the poverty and humility of Jesus, and exhorted her sisters to embrace the example of Jesus.
What is humility? In Jesus Christ our divine model, it is, on the one hand, his self-effacement in presence of the infinite majesty of his Father, (who is also ours) and, on the other hand, it is the self effacement of a God made man who in the unfathomable depths of his love, humbles himself to seek after the love of his poor creature by a life of total humiliation, sacrifice and death (Barbier: 10-11).
Euphrasie’s devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus similarly engaged her in contemplating “on suffering, on the haunting memory of sin, on pre-occupation with reparation and self-sacrifice” (Ollivier 1978: 45).
Devotion to Mary was another important dimension of Euphrasie’s spirituality. It was Mary’s visit of mercy to Elizabeth that prompted Euphrasie to name her congregation “Our Lady of the Missions” in recognition of Mary’s missionary journey. Euphrasie found in Mary, a gentle, comforting and compassionate figure who would serve as a model for her and her sisters in their relationships with one another, and in the exercise of their mission. Aspects of the Lukan portrait of Mary that profoundly influenced her concept of mission were Mary’s obedience to God (cf. Lk 1:38), and what Euphrasie identified as her contemplative stance (cf. Lk 2:19, 51b). She found in Mary, a model of the virtue and practice of humility that she desired for herself and for her sisters.
Furthermore, in hindsight we can see that the symbol of Mary provided two important foci for RNDMs in understanding their role within a patriarchal church: Mary was the guardian of the home; Mary was an auxiliary to Jesus, the high priest who takes away our sins (cf. Heb.4: 14). The importance of Mary as a model for Catholic sisters should not be under-estimated, and evidence of its importance is seen in the fact that in many congregations, the name “Mary” often was incorporated into the name given to women religious.
Like other 19th century founders of religious congregations, Euphrasie was insistent on the necessity of a cloistered life style. In effect, the structure of the cloister was meant to prevent RNDMs from any unnecessary involvement with outsiders. It regulated the number of visitors sisters could receive, the manner in which they could be received, their visiting beyond the convent either pastorally or to family. The aim of the cloister was to shield sisters from the perceived excesses of secular life in order to safeguard their spiritual life. 1 John 2:16, “all that is in the world – the desire of the flesh, the desire of the eyes, the pride in riches – comes not from the Father, but from the world” was the favoured text rather than John 3:16, “for God so loved the world that he gave his only Son.”
When the first French sisters arrived in Napier, they would have been formed in such spirituality, which they sought to transmit it to the women and children among whom they worked. But by 1901, there were few French RNDMs remaining in New Zealand. Of the 83 RNDMs in New Zealand, 17 had been born in Ireland, and the 63 who had been born in New Zealand were of Irish descent. However, the Irish connection does not appear to have either modified or contradicted aspects of the French Catholic spirituality of the first French RNDMs, and there is little evidence of significant theological differences between 19th century French and Irish Catholicism. By the mid 19th century, the French church, recovering from the excesses of the revolutionary era, and the Irish church, recovering from the famine, were characterised by a renewed fervour which fostered a strong sacramental life, and devotional practices which encouraged a sacramental spirituality (see Larkin 1972:625-52). In both countries the growth of sodalities or associations who met regularly for prayer and for the exercise of works of charity was fostered. However, given the dispersed nature of Irish settlement in Aotearoa New Zealand, the shortage of priests, and the preponderance of male immigrants over women to New Zealand, such revived faith did not always flow over into the life of Irish immigrants to New Zealand.
There are two aspects of Euphrasie’s spirituality that warrant a brief comment before moving on to a consideration of post Vatican II developments. First, sometimes it is argued that Euphrasie’s spirituality reflects Jansenist tendencies. Certainly Euphrasie encouraged an ascetical life style for her sisters, but the importance of the ascetical impulse in the spiritual life predated the emergence of Jansenism in France. However, theological emphases associated with Jansenism had their parallels in 19th century Catholic spirituality, in particular the notion that reception of communion “is to be experienced only rarely, as an occasional reward for virtue” (McBrien 1980: 638, vol. II). For example, an RNDM had to be given the necessary permission by her superior before she could receive communion. Although the priest chaplain appointed to the motherhouse in Lyon objected to this, the provisionally approved Constitutions of the young congregation were in accord with the church laws of the time. (Couturier 1966: 232; no. 1, 336). Therefore what Richard McBrien says about Jansenism resonated with some aspects of Euphrasie’s spirituality. McBrien states:
Jansenism was carried to Ireland from France, and from Ireland to the United States [and New Zealand]. Much of pre-Vatican II American [and New Zealand] Catholicism’s obsession with sexual morality and its relatively narrow Eucharistic piety, (e.g. infrequent reception of Communion and then only after “going to confession”) is directly traceable to this Jansenist influence (McBrien 1980: 639).
Second, Euphrasie believed that self-sacrifice and the acceptance of suffering were important for her own spiritual growth. This led her to practise severe penitential exercises. However, this did not emerge as mandatory for her sisters, although the need for a rigorous, ascetical life style was emphasised.
Our brief overview of the spirituality of RNDMs in New Zealand prior to Vatican II, suggests that it was a spirituality that aimed to inculcate in its practitioners a willingness to respond generously to the demands made of them by bishops concerned about the well being of the church. After Vatican II, the spirituality of RNDMs moved beyond its French and Irish origins as a process of inculturation began. A variety of socio-economic, political, cultural and theological factors contributed to this shift, and I will now turn to an examination of these, devoting more time to theological factors.
First, Pakeha New Zealanders began to develop a stronger sense of national identity. “Home” was no longer England. By the 1960s there were slightly more than 300 RNDMs in New Zealand, the majority of whom were second or third generation New Zealanders at least. There were 8 Irish sisters from the English Province on the “foreign missions” living in New Zealand. Second, New Zealand’s changing position after England’s entry into the Common Market, and the rise in oil prices in the 1970s brought about a sense of economic uncertainty, unknown in the 1950s and 1960s. Third, the more explicit and developed Maori consciousness also challenged Pakeha New Zealand to an awareness of their history as a settler people. Fourth, secular feminism began to affect the way in which RNDMs understood themselves, and understood the church. Fifth, growing concerns about environmental damage impacted on RNDMs.
These shifts in secular society were paralleled by theological shifts in the wake of Vatican II. Vatican II’s invitation to Catholics to understand themselves as part of a local church coincided with the wider Pakeha search for a sense of a national identity. A church, which had prided itself on its Irish connection, and on its more distant French connection, became the local church of Aotearoa New Zealand. While the hierarchical structures of the church remained intact, values such as collaboration and subsidiarity began to inform the conversation of Catholics in their reflections on the institutional church.
Concerns in secular society about poverty, about racism and sexism were reflected in shifting mission priorities that represented movement beyond the goals associated with an ecclesiocentric model of mission. If mission were understood in liberation categories, then missionary activity included being part of the greater struggle against economic oppression, cultural marginalisation, and gender discrimination. More recently, liberation from oppression has come to include care of creation, “oppressed” by human greed and need.
These cultural and theological shifts were accompanied by significant changes in the spirituality of RNDMs. Most apparent was the declining significance attached to the formerly privileged monastic prayer life associated with pre Vatican II religious life. Community and personal prayer became less formal and more spontaneous. Context, particularly the context of oppression, often provided the privileged entry point into prayer.
Particularly important were changed perceptions regarding the place of the bible in Catholic spirituality. Since the Reformation, Catholics, particularly lay people, had been discouraged from reading the scriptures in order to protect them from the possibility of personal, and therefore probably erroneous interpretations. Vatican II positively addressed that perception, and the biblical text became foundational for the spiritual life. RNDMs were among those who welcomed this, and in their communities, the scriptures were shared, reflected on, and studied informally and formally. This process was enriching for RNDMs in their personal and community prayer life and in their various ministries. In particular, reflections on the ministry of Jesus of Nazareth in the gospels alerted them to new ministerial possibilities: work with the poor, with Maori, and with women. This emergence of the privileged place of the scriptures helped bring about a decline in devotional spirituality. However, the privileged place that the biblical text enjoyed in the prayer life of Catholic sisters was soon to be challenged by an emerging feminist critique of the androcentric quality of the scriptures. This did not mean that scripture was under-valued, but it meant that RNDMs became more discerning in their appreciation as to how scripture both grounded and informed their prayer life as women increasingly influenced by Christian feminism.
As we saw, Euphrasie’s trinitarian spirituality meant she accepted that missionary activity was initiated and planned by church authorities, and that her sisters were most appropriately engaged in an ancillary capacity in the church’s mission. Trinitarian spirituality is still central for the spirituality of the contemporary RNDM, but it is no longer interpreted through a hierarchical lens, which emphasises the Father’s sending of the Son, the Son sending the Spirit, the Spirit being with popes and bishops who have the responsibility of continuing the mission of Jesus.
Instead of interpreting the Trinity in ways that readily lend themselves to a hierarchical understanding, there is a contemporary emphasis on the mutuality and equality of the three persons (see LaCugna 1991; Johnson 1992). In particular, there is an emphasis on the Spirit as the source of mutuality. RNDMs are encouraged to recognise that belief in the Spirit as the source of mutuality should inform their relationships with others. This in turn should encourage RNDMs to move away from the hierarchical relationships that formerly prevailed in their community life, and in their relations with those among whom they worked.
Particularly important is the awareness that when a feminist hermeneutic is brought to bear on trinitarian theology, it is possible to move beyond identifying the Spirit as masculine, as “he,” as the efforts of Christian feminist biblical scholars make clear. An acceptance of this encourages movement beyond androcentric categories in God-talk, and this in turn begins to address the patriarchal character of much Catholic theology.
Another contemporary trinitarian emphasis on God’s Spirit as immanent in creation (see Johnson 1993) encourages RNDMs to affirm what Catholic feminist theologian Susan Ross calls “the sacramental principle [that] affirms that all of created reality reveals God” (Ross 1993: 186). To understand God’s Spirit as immanent in creation has significant implications for spirituality in that it makes it more difficult to hold fast to those dualistic theologies that tended to denigrate the material, and affirm the non-material.
These understandings of the mission and role of the Spirit in the Trinity have become foundational for RNDM spirituality. They point to a retrieval of important theological insights about the Spirit that were overlooked when the Trinity was understood through a patriarchal optic. Rather than being understood only as the one who is sent by the Father and the Son, the Spirit becomes the source of relationships of mutuality. Furthermore, to emphasise the Spirit’s presence in creation has important implications for mission understood as care of creation. It is a theological understanding that provides a trinitarian entry point into framing a contemporary environmental ethic.
Euphrasie’s christology was essentially a “high” christology, a theology of the incarnate Word who became flesh (cf. John 1:14), and whose humility, obedience to the Father, and self-sacrificing love, which culminated in Calvary provided a model for her sisters. After Vatican II, and the exposure to the insights gained from historical-critical approaches to scripture, “low” christologies gained adherents among RNDMs. This in turn led to understanding Jesus in liberationist categories. Christian feminist theology and concerns began to impact on RNDMs’ self-understanding of Jesus, to identify Jesus as a counter-patriarchal culture figure who challenged the patriarchal mores of his culture in his relations with women (cf. Mark 14:3-9).
A similar development occurred in respect of an RNDM understanding of Mary. There was a shift from a “high” mariology to a “low” mariology. Mary was no longer understood as the “mediatrix of all graces” but as the disciple of Jesus par excellence. The significant Lukan texts about Mary were no longer restricted to Luke 1:38; 2:19, 51with their emphasis on Mary as the silent one, who meditated on the ways of God in her heart. Instead, there was an emphasis on recognising Mary’s song as a triumphant song of liberation: “He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty (Luke 1:51-53).
Important missiological consequences flowed from, and reinforced these developments in RNDM spirituality. Missionary activity was no longer understood simply as either missio ad gentes, or as plantatio ecclesiae. Nor was it restricted to an educational ministry for Pakeha children. In other words, it was no longer simply a generous and self-sacrificing response to papal or episcopal directives, which in the ecclesiocentric model of mission, had seen such a significant RNDM involvement in the Catholic school system. Instead, the context of oppression became critical in discerning new mission priorities. Situations that reflected the reality of poverty, of racism, of sexism in Aatearoa New Zealand became determinative of mission, and of developments in RNDM spirituality. More recently environmental degradation has meant the care of creation has been identified as an important missionary task.
These changes have led to RNDMs redefining their understanding of religious life. Most obviously, their relationship with the world has been radically altered. Prior to Vatican II, the structure of the cloister was rigorously maintained. After Vatican II, the world came to be regarded not as a distraction from God, but as a privileged locale of God’s presence. The big institutions and their associated cloistered life style, and the wearing of the religious habit as a sign of removal from the world were forsaken, sometimes painfully but more often enthusiastically as RNDMs farewelled the restrictions that a cloistered life style had meant.
The developments in RNDM spirituality are signs of a shift in the life of RNDMs from a spirituality that originated in 19th century France, to a spirituality that can be identified more readily as one expression of a Pakeha Catholic feminist spirituality. Furthermore, these developments are indicative of a move from an ecclesiocentric perception of mission to a more contextualised understanding of mission. In other words, RNDMs are attempting to contextualise their spirituality and ministry in Aotearoa New Zealand. Prior to Vatican II, “Western Christians were unconscious of the fact their theology [and spirituality] were culturally conditioned; they simply assumed that it was supracultural and universally valid” (Bosch 1991: 448). Bosch’s comment aptly describes the understanding of RNDMs in Aotearoa New Zealand prior to the Council. The assumption was that RNDM spirituality, and an RNDM theology of mission enjoyed a certain timeless validity.
As both a participant in, and an observer of the process of change initiated by developments in the wake of Vatican II, I would suggest that significant shifts took place at both a conscious and unconscious level. Consciously there was, and indeed still is, an attempt to redefine missionary goals in liberationist categories. In respect of spirituality, change certainly occurred at a conscious level in a variety of ways. Latin no longer was the privileged language of prayer, and nor were monastic prayer structures. A more biblically grounded spirituality replaced the formerly privileged devotional spirituality. However, the change to locating entry points into prayer from the world of nature, and from the world of oppression encountered in daily life and ministry often seemed to occur at the level of the unconscious. To say this is not to denigrate such changes. In fact it seems that they actually point to the paradigmatic nature of the situation in which contemporary RNDMs find themselves, and in which they carry out their ministry.
This is why I argue that contemporary RNDMs living and working in Aotearoa New Zealand can be identified as authentically missionary because they are agents of inculturation in a way that eluded the first RNDMs in this country. In making this claim, I am persuaded by Neil Darragh’s argument (Darragh 2000). As I understand his argument, he claims that the first missionaries who come to a new place or culture, articulate the good news in the language of their place of origin. In the case of the RNDMs, this meant in French Catholic and Irish Catholic categories. However, in the last quarter of the 20th century, RNDMs are growing in their ability to articulate their spirituality in the language and symbols of Pakeha culture. This allows them to be witnesses of the good news in contemporary secular Pakeha culture in a way that eluded their predecessors whose understanding of mission was determined by colonial theologies with their ecclesiocentric imperatives.
That is why I believe that since the 1970s RNDMs have become agents of inculturation in Aotearoa New Zealand in ways that were not previously possible. I understand inculturation to mean allowing the Christian message to find its “expression through elements proper to the culture in question ” (Schineller 1990: 6). In this perspective, inculturation becomes “a principle that animates, directs, and unifies the culture, transforming it and remaking it so as to bring about ‘a new creation’” (Schineller 1990: 6). Bosch claims that the agent of inculturation is not the foreign missionary, but “the Holy Spirit and the local community” (Bosch 1991: 453). Catholic theologian Shorter also believes that inculturation is the process by which “a human culture is enlivened by the gospel from within, [my italics], a stage which presupposes a measure of reformulation or, more accurately, reinterpretation” (Shorter 1988: 12).
Even though an examination of RNDM missionary activity since Vatican II points to a more conscious emphasis on mission as liberation, I suggest the mission as inculturation has been as significant. Since the last quarter of the second millennium, RNDMs in Aotearoa New Zealand have been are searching for contextual entry points into mission, and into prayer. This suggests that they are agents of inculturation because they are attempting to articulate the Christian message “in a language common to both the missionaries and those to whom their message is directed. These [activities] are most commonly intra-cultural missions. Such missions have become possible in Aotearoa New Zealand in the last quarter of the 20th century” (Darragh 2000:1). This process has occurred and is occurring despite the fact that the theology of inculturation has not received the same emphasis as has the theology of liberation in official RNDM documents.
As I conclude, I am not certain what comes first: spirituality or mission. However, what my research indicates is that both are intimately related. The social context in which RNDMs historically and contemporaneously have worked and are working, is determinative of their spirituality and mission. In the case of the pre-Vatican era, a patriarchal culture in church and in society, encouraged ecclesiocentric and expansionist understandings of mission that identified the role of RNDMs as ancillary to that of the ordained minister, and as an extension of women’s domestic vocation as nurturers and carers. The spirituality of the time attempted to foster in RNDMs the virtues of obedience, humility and self-sacrifice, virtues that sometimes, but thankfully not always, precluded criticism of episcopal and clerical directives.
After Vatican II, context, particularly the context of oppression became more determinative of missionary goals and objectives. Spirituality too became more contextualised and in the case of Catholic sisters, including RNDMs, there was a turning away from spiritual practices that reflected patriarchal culture’s expectations of women to spiritualities that reinterpreted the Christian tradition from a feminist perspective, and which paid attention to women’s experiences and stories of oppression. This shift has allowed RNDMs to experiment courageously with new expressions of spirituality and mission. This shift is not complete, and the open-ended nature of the changes occurring needs to be emphasised, but the contemporary move toward inculturation appears to be firmly embraced by the majority of RNDMs. Mistakes have been made and will continue to be made, but the risk involved in attentiveness to the Spirit blowing she wills is surely more life-giving than attentiveness to patriarchal culture’s expectations regarding the role of Catholic sisters in the mission of the church.
Anonymous. 1948. Fire among the Reeds. Hamilton, Waikato Times.
Barbier, E. Writings of Mother Mary of the Heart of Jesus. Vol 1. 1851-1870.
Barbier, E. Writings of Mother Mary of the Heart of Jesus. Vol 2. 1871-1875.
Barbier, E. Writings of Mother Mary of the Heart of Jesus. Vol. 4. 1879-1882.
Barbier, E. Writings of Mother Mary of the Heart of Jesus. Vol 6. 1888-1890.
Bosch, D. J. 1991. Transforming Mission: Paradigm Shifts in Theology of Mission. Maryknoll, Orbis Books.
Couturier, C. 1966. Unswerving Journey: The Life of Mother Mary of the Heart of Jesus, Foundress of the Congregation of Our Lady of the Missions. Toulouse, Prière et Vie.
Darragh, N. 2000. Second Generation Missions. Auckland, 1-8. Unpublished manuscript.
DeGiorgio, M. (1993). The Catholic Model. Emerging Feminism from Revolution to World War. G. Fraisse and M. Perrot. Cambridge, Belknap Press. Vol. IV. 166-197.
Johnson, Elizabeth A. 1992. She Who is: The Mystery of God in Feminist Theological Discourse. New York, Crossroad.
Johnson, Elizabeth A. 1993. Women, Earth and Creator Spirit. New York/Mahwah, Paulist Press.
LaCugna, C. M. 1991. God for Us: The Trinity and Christian Life. San Francisco, HarperCollins.
Laracy, H. 1976-7. “Roman Catholic 'Martyrs' in the South Pacific 1841-55.” In Journal of Religious History 9(2), 189-202.
Larkin, E. 1972. “The Devotional Revolution in Ireland, 1850-1875.” In American Historical Review 72, 625-52.
McBrien, R. 1980. Catholicism. East Malvern, Vic., Dove Communications.
Ollivier, M. B. 1978. Straight is My Path: Spirituality of Euphrasie Barbier, Foundress of the Congregation of Our Lady of the Missions. Rome.
Ross, S. A. (1993). “God's Embodiment and Women. " In Freeing Theology: The Essentials of Theology in Feminist Perspective. Edited by Catherine Mowry LaCugna. New York: Harper San Francisco, 186.
Schineller, P. 1990. A Handbook on Inculturation. New York, Paulist Press. Schineller citing Aloysius Pieris, Mission in Dialogue, Edited by Mary Motte and Jospeh R. Lang. Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1982, 429.
Shorter, A. 1988. Toward a Theology of Inculturation. Maryknoll: Orbis Books.
Simpson, J. 1994. “Women, Religion and Society in New Zealand: A Literature Review.” In Journal of Religious History 18(2), 198-218.