Reflections on the Apostolate
Not long ago, I received an interesting letter from a woman who objected mildly to Christendom College's emphasis on "defending the Faith" in its education of students for the lay apostolate. She believed the Faith very important, but could not understand the necessity of a defense. Surely it was better simply to share the Faith with others, as she had done over the years.
To many reading this tract, this objection might seem out of touch with reality, but it highlights a fundamental truth, the truth that because the most needful apostolic works in any age are inevitably the least popular, the apostolate is a severe calling which demands serious preparation, preparation even to the point of being ready to defend the full set of Catholic principles from which any apostolic work springs.
Indeed, the apostolate is a great challenge to us precisely because it is a constant battle, both within ourselves and between ourselves and the world to be won. It is not for nothing that the great religious orders have had a quasi-military organization, or that the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius are a sort of military training of the spirit. To use an ancient term, ours is a Church militant, and we cannot expect to escape any of the vast complexity of combat that is woven into the Christian life: the struggle between the spirit and the flesh, the kingdom of God and the kingdom of Satan, the Church and the world.
It is because of the tremendous need to take preparation for this battle seriously that I attempt to set forth below some fundamental reflections on the nature of the apostolate for those who are new to its abiding challenge.
Theoretical Foundations of the Apostolate
"Come after me; I will make you fishers of men." (Mk 1:17)
As suggested implicitly above, the apostolate is an extension of the Christian life as a whole, drawing its character in some integral fashion from the very posture of a Christian toward the world. In its Decree on the Apostolate of Lay People (Apostolicam actuositatem), the Second Vatican Council expresses it this way: "The Christian vocation is, of its nature, a vocation to the apostolate as well" (no. 2). Indeed, the Council wishes laymen to understand that "it is by the Lord himself that they are assigned to the apostolate" (3), which has as its general aim "the noble obligation of working to bring all men throughout the whole world to hear and accept the divine message of salvation." (3)
The Council Fathers identified three concrete objectives of the apostolate: 1) evangelization and sanctification; 2) renewal of the temporal order; and, 3) charitable works and social aid. It is important to observe the priority here, a priority arising from that "noble obligation" which the apostolate is. For, "the apostolate of the Church . . . and of each of its members aims primarily at announcing to the world by word and action the message of Christ and communicating to it the grace of Christ."(6)
With this in mind, we see that apostolates directed to temporal renewal are to be so conducted that they harmonize the temporal order "with the principles of the Christian life" (7) and apostolates directed to social aid are truly vital insofar as they "are of their nature a most eloquent expression of . . . charity" and have been willed by Christ to be "signs of his messianic kingdom."(8) Returning to the first apostolic objective — evangelization and sanctification — we find the role of the laity to be "helping on the cause of truth" (3 Jn 8):
[T]he true apostle is on the lookout for occasions of announcing Christ by word, either to unbelievers to draw them towards the faith, or to the faithful to instruct them, strengthen them, incite them to a more fervent life . . . (6)
As a consequence, the Council "earnestly exhorts the laity to take a more active part . . . in the explanation and defense of Christian principles and the correct application of them to the problems of our times."(6)
Now, clearly, this teaching on the apostolate is in no way meant to conflict with the special duties of the ministerial priesthood. Belonging to the universal priesthood of the faithful, it is rather an indirect extension of the ministerial priesthood's role in bringing grace to men through the sacraments, as the Council also pointed out.(6) Just as clearly, a person may live apostolically without "having" an apostolate. In fact, he must so live, for the heart of the apostolate is the Christian's pervasive readiness to extend the kingdom of God by pursuing the Council's three objectives.
However, as this readiness is expanded, molded to a clearly defined pattern, and regularly exercised — in a word, as it is institutionalized — we arrive at a secondary meaning of the term "apostolate" common today, a meaning which admits of a plural, as we see springing into being a great number of separate apostolates, each contributing to the whole work of the Church. In this secondary sense, the apostolate may be defined as any particular work in the service of the Church which is: a) systematically organized; b) distinct from the sacramental ministry of priests; and, c) directed toward the building up of the Mystical Body of Christ.
While the discussion of the apostolate which follows is focused on the latter meaning of the term, its principal points are (it is hoped) drawn from the primary conception of the apostolate as a part of each Christian's vocation. Insofar as any institutionalization of the apostolate causes its members to behave as if their full-time apostolic jobs exhaust the meaning of the apostolate for them, or causes non-members to act as if the apostolate is something only for those connected with apostolic institutions — to the degree these things occur, the following discussion will have fallen far short of its purpose. For to take an older misapprehension as an apt analogy, sanctity is not just for priests and religious; nor are all priests and religious saints.
Spiritual Preparation
Then I said, "As is written of me in the book, I have come to do your will, O God." (Hb 10:7; Ps 40:9)
The apostolate is by the Church's own definition a serious calling rooted in the Christian's effort to respond fully to the will of God. No one, I think, will presume such a response to be easy, and so the apostolate ought properly to be approached with caution and respect.
Readiness to enter upon apostolic work must be tested in several senses, not to eliminate from service those who fail, but rather to prepare all for success. When I was in my late teens, the romance of orthodoxy captured my heart, and I threw myself at the foes of my lady the Church with all the impulsiveness of a newly knighted squire. I could scarcely wait to charge forward atop the war-horse of rectitude, and if I was unhorsed, I strode into the thick of the enemy, laying waste about me with the naked blade of Truth. All of this was born of a noble impulse; and directed by a naïve ignorance. For, returning from the field (always victorious), I had no conception of the larger, or rather deeper, battle around me. I saw the clash of foes; I did not see the misery of souls.
In a word, I was (and am) in need of spiritual direction. Like myself nearly two decades ago, the new apostle is often eager for the glories of battle, because he does not see the real battle; and he is fired by the sign of the cross as it goes before him, because he has not felt its weight upon his back. I say this not to discourage anyone, but only to begin at the beginning. For if, as Vatican II states, the soul of the apostolate is charity,(3) then its school is sound spiritual direction so that the apostle may reorder his love to the love of Christ. There is no one who does not need this preparation for the apostolate, and since many will not find a wise priest to guide them through a period of preparation, I venture — with a sense of total inadequacy — to suggest a few tests and exercises below.
The first and most important is the test of pride. Why, after all, am I interested in this or that apostolic work? If it is to see the real Catholic Church rise victorious over her enemies in a visible triumph of the saints, or even to create once and for all the perfect society on earth, then I fail this test on several counts. First, if I presume to identify the communion of saints completely in this world I confuse a church with a faction (and probably identify as righteous those who share my own ideas). Second, if I presume that the kingdom of God will be completely established here on this old earth, I confuse the time of growth with the time of harvest, and I look to effect a kind of victory which will only come on the last day. Third, if I long to see myself the glorious victor and to hear about me the jubilant acclaim of the just, I confuse the triumph of the world, which is Caesar's, with the triumph of the cross, which is Christ's. These failures are all rooted in pride or vainglory, yet it is vital that the would-be apostle pass this test, else he will never come face to face with the one overarching reality of apostolic life. I mean the reality that he is a broken reed and an empty vessel, and to be filled with the power of Christ he must first drain himself. Only then will he understand that the power of Christ is not to destroy the enemy, but to save his soul.
The second test is the test of perspective. One might almost say the test of prudence, but for the unfortunate deterioration of that word in our time. For that prince of virtues by which all else is ordered rightly to achieve a goal has become a synonym for reticence and restraint, and an excuse for indecision, inaction and cowardice. Anyhow, the key thing to be considered in the preparation stage is not yet the prudence of plan or of action, but of perception.
To be an effective apostle one must retain a certain perspective by which the various problems besetting the Church are seen in their proper hierarchy and rank. To take a prime example, any effort to reduce to one evil name the impediments to orthodoxy is an oversimplification so gross as to be not only insensitive but ineffective. I have had letters from people who trace the entire decline of morals in the Western world to the fact that women may now wear slacks; or, to take less outrageous examples, we have all witnessed great factions within the Church which really do take as their first principle the idea that the crisis of the Faith is a clear and direct result of changes in the liturgy, or that the crisis of contemporary theology was caused by Vatican II. A similar lack of perspective — historical and sociological — will cause prospective apostles to place at the head of their lists of priorities those things which simply annoy them most. From this error arises colossal battles over such things as women's head coverings in Church, or to retreat again from the fringe, over the translation of terms like blessed and happy, kingdom and reign in modern Bibles, or the exchange of the handshake of peace in modern churches.
Now clothing, liturgical change and even Vatican II all have their place in the analysis of the difficulties besetting today's Catholicism, but none of them is the beginning or the end of the four hundred year dissolution of Christian culture which has emanated (to take one major factor) from the Protestant Revolt and the division of Christendom. So too, head-coverings, translations and the sign of peace all find their positions in the hierarchy of the things of God, but we ought to cover our own heads with shame if we cannot for these things still see the proper hierarchy, or if we reduce this hierarchy to a single point, only to find that it is a prickly point, a complaint, or even a gripe.
The essence of prudence (the word comes from the Latin root for providence) is the proper ordering of both our goals and the means available to achieve those goals such that our actions might be effectively directed to positive results. The first test of prudence is therefore this test of reasonable perspective, and if one cannot achieve this perspective through the guidance of an experienced priest, and cannot be sure of it by reading the few examples offered here, then at least he might be set on the right road by one great sign, the sign of the sense of humor.
For any apostle conscious of his own inadequacies and the overwhelming complexity of the task ahead of him will appreciate keenly the divine incongruity of his situation, and take delight in the certain knowledge that all could not possibly depend upon himself or on his particular apostolic task. If the liturgy be not truly reformed, yet still souls may be nourished by the Body of Christ; if moral theology be never again made moral, yet still as of old a life of sin might drive the frightened sinner home. And so the apostle will learn to find a sort of divine humor even amid the holy things; indeed, seeing himself plunge forward at times comically upon a one-legged war-horse, he will find suddenly that it is really a winged horse, a steed as light as laughter. And as he enjoys for a moment the broad perspective of the happy heights of heaven, he will leave behind forever the bitter tunnel vision of the deeps of hell.
The third test of initiation is the test of prayer. When the British theologian Charles Davis left the priesthood in the 1960's — one of the first in a rash of such defections — he commented that he had long since ceased to pray. The recognition of the need for prayer is a natural result of success in the previous tests — the humility and the breadth of vision which lead the apostle to a relieved awareness of his utter dependence upon God. Yet the recognition of the need for prayer and its actual practice are two different things.
Since the contemporary crisis is preeminently a crisis of Truth, the contemporary apostle is all too likely to believe devoutly that he has completed his formation as soon as he has opted for orthodoxy. The Church is sadly full of such tinkling cymbals; and few of us have not heard (or played) the sounding brass. Orthodoxy is a fine house, but without the interior life it is a house built on sand. The habit of prayer must be firmly developed before facing the winds and rains of the apostolate, just as the foundation must be carefully laid before the finished structure can hope to stand against the storm. If the prospective apostle has not begun to build his interior castle (like St. Teresa) or even his quiet and tiny interior cell (like St. Catherine) then he will be exposed mercilessly to the elements with no shelter in sight. Classic Catholic practice suggests that this rudimentary prayer life ought first to be based upon a frequent reception of the sacraments — penance and holy communion — and then built upward with the practice of meditation. It is not unlikely that even experienced apostles will have to recall these things to mind from time to time, as an antidote to what Protestant ministers (who don't have the sacraments) often describe as "burn-out." But the novice who makes no regular time for prayer fails the third of the great tests, and is beaten before he begins to fight.
A detailed instruction in the art of prayer is beyond both the scope of this tract and the abilities of its author; nor is it his office. But the three main preparatory tests of pride, perspective and prayer may be taken as a healthy means of self-evaluation for the Christian reflecting upon his call to the apostolate. With each passing year I become more convinced that the ineffectiveness of most unsuccessful apostolic work can be traced to failure in one of these easily applied tests. However, even if all the tests are passed success is not guaranteed — for reasons that will become clear in any calm assessment of the practical side of the apostolic enterprise.
Zeal and Good Business
"What I am doing is sending you out like sheep among wolves. You must be wise as serpents and innocent as doves." (Mt 10:16)
I have editorialized elsewhere (Faith & Reason VIII, 3) about the inordinate fear of today's Catholics of doing anything unless it can be done on what I have called the "American plan" — big, well-funded, well-staffed and Very Respectable. I still offer the assurance that effective apostolates can be started and even run with manageable amounts of money and limited staff, and, upon reflection, I still offer this assurance as the foundation for any serious discussion of the apostolate in today's world. For it will be the fortunate apostle indeed who, having selected a relatively unpopular or very difficult effort as his cause, finds suddenly that an angel bearing extensive grants has come forward to do the funding. To be discouraged by the small, shoe-string operation per se is too often to do nothing at all.
At the same time, this emphasis on smallness and even on sacrifice in the apostolate gives greater weight to a second factor too often overlooked: the need for good planning and sound methods. There is no place in the apostolate for the sin of presumption, or the belief that if only our hearts are in the right place, God will guarantee the success of our work. The zeal which an apostle brings to his work must be tempered — no, channeled — by attention to practical considerations, by a proper ordering of particular means to particular ends in particular circumstances.
This practical or prudential life of the apostolate begins from the first moment an apostolic idea is conceived. The effective apostle needs to develop clear thinking, strategic planning, and sound management techniques. I make an effort below to outline a ten-point sequence of prudent considerations for carrying out apostolic activity in the practical realm. If you are not prepared to be "shackled" by some of these considerations, I advise you to offer your services to an apostolic organization in a subordinate capacity: don't expect to lead.
1. The Apostolic Idea: Every enthusiastic soul has a host of ideas about what he'd like to see accomplished for Christ in the world, within the general desire for the salvation of souls. But the practical apostolate demands that these ideas be tested for clarity, need and viability.
Clarifying an idea involves defining the problem which the idea is designed to solve, identifying the causes of the problem, and listing the means by which these causes may be progressively eliminated. It will probably be easiest simply to illustrate this process by means of an example. Thus, we notice that the number of priests in this country is declining rapidly. Among the contributory causes are: the general crisis of faith, tepidity in Catholic families, lack of an effort to foster vocations in dioceses and parishes, the destruction of vocations in modernist seminaries, confusion among young men as to where to turn for vocational guidance, etc. Among the means which conceivably address these causes would be: launching a national program to promote orthodox catechesis in every parish or home in the nation; making available inspiring stories of the priesthood to Catholic parents and teenagers; establishing seminars on vocations enhancement for bishops and priests; reforming the five-hundred year-old seminary system; establishing a network for finding young men considering a vocation to the priesthood and referring them to institutions capable of giving them a proper initial formation.
The foregoing is perhaps too brief to be anything but superficial, but the reader will see the point. A process of clarification has converted an angry scream about the lack of priests to a real analysis of what the problem is and what might be done about it. For an ordinary layman of ordinary means, moreover, this process of reflection will have surfaced several options which are clearly beyond hope of achievement. Others may present real possibilities.
2. Describing the Apostolate: After having clarified the initial idea and discovered a general line of attack, the prospective apostle needs to formulate a more precise description of his potential goals and means. He needs to state clearly what he intends to accomplish and how, specifically, he intends to do it. To continue with the previous example, our apostle has noted that there may be something exciting and worthwhile in the idea of establishing a "seek and refer" network for promoting vocations to the priesthood. He sits down and takes an hour to brainstorm the following description:
"Goal: to identify young men between the ages of 16 and 25 who may be called to God's priesthood and to help place them in educational institutions which can prepare them spiritually and academically for ordination. Means: 1) a vocations hot-line, widely advertised in the Catholic press; 2) solid and experienced priests on call to discuss vocations with those who contact our organization; 3) contacts with sound bishops, seminaries and colleges through which one can secure the B.A. in philosophy and complete studies in major seminary; 4) provision of incisive literature on the priestly vocation for general publication or distribution, and for sending to those who contact our office."
That's a relatively clear statement; it rules out a good deal, and includes some very specific, feasible lines of action.
3. Market Research: I assume throughout that the person who started this practical process is still interested in his idea; if so, he must now do some research to find out if he has a viable idea. He needs to know three things: 1) is some other organization already effectively meeting the apostolic need in question? 2) granted that his apostolic program is much-needed, is there a market for it? Will people respond positively to it in sufficient numbers to make it worthwhile, and can he reach these people? 3) will his product generate the revenue needed to finance the entire operation? Will he have to rely on donations, and can he make effective contact with prospective donors?
The first question requires a relatively quick check of the relevant publications and known experts who deal with the general type of apostolic work in question. If a similar apostolic work is already underway, the next question is whether it should be strengthened to be more effective, or whether the apostolate can truly be served by the founding of another similar work. It may be that the deficiencies of the existing efforts will prompt the novices to make adjustments in their own description so as to meet more particular needs within the larger framework. It should not be necessary (but is, I think) to say that it is utterly anti-apostolic to found a new enterprise just for the sake of being a leader in a particular field. To do so may weaken an existing apostolate through unwarranted competition, and the consequent division of resources may cause both efforts to fail.
The question of whether people will want to avail themselves of the particular apostolic product is answered in one or both of two ways: market polls and consultation with experts. The planners of the project might try a direct-mail poll of a random segment of their potential market; they might study the operations of three or four past and present efforts in this type of apostolate; they might talk over their idea with a dozen people experienced in some aspect of the work at hand to discover the problems involved, what works, and what doesn't.
The third question will be answered simultaneously with the second if the product or service offered is one that will pay for itself through some sort of sales, provided the planners have had the good sense to indicate the cost in their polls or discussions. If no sales are involved, however, the planners will need to find backing. This means finding a few relatively wealthy people or a great many relatively poor people to support the project. The former are found by personal contact, the latter by direct mail (or, at times, telephone solicitation). At some point, the planners need to take a sample of potential minor donors as a basis for projection; or line up sufficient support and long-term commitments from their relatively wealthy contacts to ensure that the project can get underway and keep going if it works.
4. Defining One's Own Role: Assuming that the new apostolate is still alive in the minds of the individual or group now planning it, each of the prospective workers will have to seriously evaluate his abilities and interests and decide what role he should play in the new enterprise. To continue for the last time with the vocations example, the person with the original idea might decide that he would not be good at setting up the whole service, but he would be very good at writing the essential literature; or, he might be very good at arranging the financing and keeping the books, but he would make a poor phone counselor. Cut against the grain as it might, it is best to get the opinions of others in deciding such questions. In any case, if he decides he will be the founder and leader, he can proceed to the next step; but if he decides not to be the leader, he will be one of two things: a competent planner and organizer who, because of his other commitments, will have to serve as chairman of the board for the new project and hire a full-time administrator; or, a talented subordinate who must find one or more appropriate allies before proceeding to step 5.
5. The Strategic Plan: At this point, the planners must become tough-minded, practical strategists. They now come to setting up their organization on paper, and the paper work must include the following sections: 1) Definition of the problem; 2) Statement of the goal; 3) Identification of the means (these things are covered in steps 1-3); 4) Chart of the organizational structure which will best serve the goal; 5) Identification of the necessary staff positions; 6) Comprehensive list of start-up costs; 7) First-year budget of both expenditures and revenues; 8) Timetable for start-up and first year of operation; 9) Five-year plan. Obviously, all of the elements of the strategic plan cannot be discussed at length here, but several elements are worth special mention. They are:
6. Organizational Structure: First the planners will have to decide whether their organization will be a sole proprietorship, a partnership, a profit corporation, or a non-profit corporation. Most apostolates select the non-profit corporate status for two reasons: a) they qualify by virtue of the religious, charitable or educational work they do; b) it makes it easier to solicit financial support, since donations are tax deductible. However, for those apostolates which will subsist on some sort of sales (a publishing venture, for example), for-profit incorporation should be considered; it makes possible the acquisition of investment capital which will pay a return. Note that a major difference between the two forms of incorporation is the disposition of the corporate assets. In profit corporations, the assets go to the owners; in non-profit corporations, they must be donated to another non-profit group in the event of failure. In either case, incorporation is easy and inexpensive: simply write to your state corporation commission for the necessary incorporation forms, and to the IRS for the necessary non-profit tax-exempt status forms.
One feature of incorporation is that it requires the establishment of a corporate board of directors (usually a minimum of three people), which may be good or bad, depending upon whom you have to work with, your own strengths, and the particular needs of the work in question. Most apostolates will have to define the number of board members and their means of selection in their articles of incorporation; subsequently, they will have to draw up sound bylaws for the governance of the board. $mall boards may provide insufficient talent to handle complex problems; large boards are cumbersome, and inevitably just a few people do most of the work. Most of the experienced planners I've discussed this with agree that boards of five to nine members are best, except for schools and colleges, which may have little choice but to follow a traditional pattern of larger governing bodies in order to pursue state approval, accreditation, and large-donor funding.
Board and bylaws in hand, the planners will need an organizational chart indicating the basic duties of each position and where each fits in the whole, including the chain of command. Attention here must also be given to the particular relationship of the top administrative official to the board of directors whom he serves. Boards are generally expected to make broad policy and find funds; the rest is left properly to the administration, which is daily on the scene. The board would ordinarily hire the top administrator; he would ordinarily hire everyone else. To avoid conflict, only one administrator should be directly responsible to the board. All of these organizational features and procedures should be written down, formally approved, and followed.
7. The Five-Year Plan and the Annual Budget: Often those most zealous for apostolic work least like to do financial planning. However, no enterprise can succeed without it, except by sheer luck, and good planning ought to render an apostolate far more effective than it otherwise would be. The five-year plan is simply a standard incremental approach to long-term planning. The idea is to try to foresee expansion (or contraction) of services, develop appropriate goals, and see what these goals mean in terms of new programs, new staff, and financing each year for five years into the future. But such plans are dynamic, not static, revised on a cycle each year as new information and new needs come to light. They provide a sense of direction and a framework for decision-making.
The annual budget is far more detailed and consequently more fixed. Future budgets will rely on projections from earlier expenditures and receipts, rendering budgeting less difficult as time goes on. But any budget requires precise planning about what the organization is going to do, how it is going to do it and what scale it is going to do it on. Otherwise one can't know how much money is involved. Every effort must be made to identify all of the potential costs. Little surprises are inevitable; big ones can sink you. Be sure the annual budget is balanced and that the figures are realistic. Work the budget through under several scenarios (greater services offered; unforeseen decline in demand; successful or unsuccessful fund-raising; etc.). Have contingency plans, at least in rough form.
8. Starting Up: To start any enterprise, three things are needed: a) a place to work; b) a staff to do the work; and, c) funds to pay for the work done. A few brief and practical rules of thumb follow for each area:
a) It is inexpensive to work out of a private home if that can be done without inconvenience or distraction, if there is sufficient space, and if the apostolate does not require a business-like appearance to be effective. In general, it is wise to rent facilities at first, since it is difficult to know exactly what to buy or build without experience, and because only the long-term success of the apostolate can determine whether it will be worth a major investment in facilities. Of course, attention must be given to proper equipment and furnishings, including any specialized items that the particular apostolate may need to function efficiently. I recommend computerization wherever possible; it vastly increases efficiency and, in the long run, it saves money in salaries. The computer can be effectively applied to data base management (such as mailing lists and inventories), budgeting and accounting, and word processing.
b) Staffing decisions are always difficult. In general, avoid hiring a group of friends because they are friends. Decide what qualities are really needed in each position, write a job description and set a salary. Look for qualified people with a spiritual compatibility with the apostolate under consideration. Hire sound Catholics for all doctrinally-sensitive positions. Start with the minimum staff and add later; don't expect to cut easily if things don't work out as planned. Be sure each staffer understands the total apostolate, his role within it, and who will evaluate his work (and make sure someone does).
c) Whenever possible, raise funds in advance to cover start-up capital expenses. Avoid starting in debt; unforeseen debts may well arise later; and advance fund-raising is often a measure of the apostolate's likely success. Finally, have enough start-up revenue on hand to cover whatever period will transpire between day one and the first period of typical revenue production, plus a little more to cover unforeseen expenses and cash flow problems.
9. Sound Business Practices: There is no substitute in the apostolate for sound business management, despite the fact that groups of idealistic Christians often view such practices as casting doubt on the integrity of the individuals involved. My advice is to take a no-nonsense view of this matter. Consult a good auditing firm or several successful businessmen to find out what accounting system best suits your needs, and what internal controls you should have in place to protect against human error and weakness. Set up the system and debug it before you need it to work; then stick to it religiously. More rules of thumb: every expenditure accounted for on the books, no expenditures without receipts, all revenues (especially donations) logged and accounted for, and two signatures (unless the operation is very small) on every check or other document committing funds.
Besides fiscal management, there are personnel and general office management procedures which ought to be followed. In a nutshell, this means clearly defining all roles and all accountability, making sure the flow of work is smooth and efficient, finding ways to allow every employee to express his ideas at least about the particular area of his own work, incorporating this feedback into the planning process, and mixing a healthy dose of praise into the evaluation process wherever possible.
10. A Special Word on People: Apostles are people. That may sound odd, but it is an important consideration for the boss. When the apostolic type of individual enters upon a new field of work, he will very likely be zealous enough to sign on for long hours, low pay and hard work. This is a wonderful quality, but it has to be managed properly by the person in charge. Always remember that the new employee does not know fully what he is getting into; and no one in a new apostolate knows how long he will be able to sustain either top efficiency or top enthusiasm. Every living human being needs a cushion of time and energy to absorb special problems at work, catastrophes at home, a rough period, or just a bad day. So if you are in a position to set or influence working conditions, back away from the initial enthusiasm just a bit, assign out a little less work and a little more pay than your first instinct (or your employee's first instinct) dictates and, in general, plan for the marathon rather than the sprint. All employers, by the way, bear some responsibility for the physical, emotional, psychological and spiritual health of their workers.
This list of ten practical considerations for the successful apostolate is designed to channel zeal, not to extinguish it. Let me emphasize that there is no possible way to remove the risk from the apostolate, or the excitement. Every apostle undertakes a difficult work in an uncongenial time, and he shouldn't expect to have everything completely under control before he starts (or after he's been going for ten years). Attention to the ten points listed above should increase the chance of success, but it would be an error to rely on them exclusively. The "time and energy" principle might sometimes require that a corner be cut, and the "trust in God" principle will certainly require going forward with some things uncertain. Still, at the very least the ten points will help keep the apostle clear of the sin of presumption.
But hope and trust are not presumption, and the prospective apostle will need plenty of both. That is why the same habit of prayer which is so essential to the life of the individual apostle ought to be incorporated in some way into the life of the whole enterprise. Enthroning the Sacred Heart in the office; praying together periodically as a team; having a special Mass now and again — these are all important signs of apostolic life. And if I am permitted one last bit of practical advice, it would be this: secure a good spiritual advisor for your apostolate, a sound priest holy enough to share your zeal, secure enough to work well with lay people, and strong enough to resist the organization's leadership when the leadership is wrong.
Today's layman must resist the inevitable temptation to become anti-clerical. Everyone knows that the hierarchy and the clergy in general have been severely injured by the contemporary crisis of faith; every lay apostle has had many unfortunate experiences with the institutional Church. But the priesthood is still necessary for the sacramental life of the Church, which is our Mother. And clergy have the grace of office to guide souls. It is as true now as it ever was that authentically Catholic apostolates move forward in Christ only under the guidance of good priests.
Suffering and Perseverance
"My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass me by. Still, let it be as you would have it, not as I." (Mt 26:39)
Following the practical steps outlined in the preceding section may well mark the start of a successful apostolate. If so, the apostle may now face years of hard work in his new organization or group. Obviously, throughout these years he will have to retest himself continually for pride, perspective and prayer, and also monitor his work in a practical and businesslike way. Beyond that, he will have to deal with two altogether new problems, the twin problems of suffering and perseverance.
The problem of suffering was foreseen from the first as a pre-eminent reason for sober assessment of an individual's call to sustained apostolic work. Once a new apostolate is begun, however, suffering will have to be faced head on. Whatever unique crosses await each soul, this suffering will appear at the very least in several predictable forms.
Every apostle will experience a certain degree of isolation and ridicule because of the strong defense he makes of his Catholic values. However, because the Catholic apostolate is not powerful enough to be regarded as a threat by most people in this country, a new apostolate is generally quite quickly labeled and ignored by the larger secular world. And since most active apostles have willing associates, most are unlikely to suffer overmuch from loneliness or rejection imposed by the world. To the contrary, the first experience of severe pain the new apostle is likely to have will almost surely come from within his own circle.
The form of this pain will often be the inevitable yet somewhat naive discovery that his new organization is not heaven. This might seem strange, but consider the confident and excited mood in which the neophyte is likely to find himself. He has just participated in the founding or joining of a glorious enterprise and is looking forward to working with some of the finest, most dedicated Catholics in the field today. He foresees an employment history free of internal disagreement, personality conflict and general strife as he and his colleagues progress in the service of a common vision. But then the trouble starts.
It usually begins with the various points of view and personality types within the larger Catholic framework. George is always cautious and wants to proceed by small steps toward a modest goal; Jim is all for risking the resources that could — if his hunch is right — bring their apostolate before a much larger audience with far greater impact. Mary wants a hefty portion of time spent in group meetings sharing strategies and developing common approaches; Ken thinks this a waste of time and wishes the Director would just make up his mind. Robert frequently makes pious observations about the will of God when things go badly, and keeps on in the same old groove; Joan wants to implement contingency plans as quickly as possible, and, frankly, Bob's brand of piety drives her up the wall.
Sometimes what appears to be a minor difference from a secular standpoint can emerge as a major cleavage among apostolic co-workers who must assess all the ramifications of a truly Catholic position. One need look no further than the pro-life movement for a telling example. Every one can recall how the Hatch and Helms people fought against each other because they differed significantly over the best strategy, though not over the ultimate goal. Similarly, in many forms of the apostolate, one group's interest in spirituality can become arch-rival to another group's interest in action programs. Or, to take a third example, there can be significant — and legitimate — difference of opinion over how a particular apostolate ought to respond to abuses in the church: either by emphasizing the positive, or pointing out the negative.
When one adds to these conflicts the very clear weaknesses of human nature and the cumulative effect on working relations of a series of innocent misunderstandings, the apostle may well be chastened, if not discouraged, by his lot. But if he understands what is happening, he can also grow wise. For what he sees is the simple truth-in-action of the doctrine of the Fall of man.
One of the effects of the Fall is the differing perceptions so common even among the orthodox, for each of us is a separate and unique person and while all of us see some things clearly, none of us sees anything whole. Sadly, if conflicts and perceptions become so diverse as to threaten the stability of the apostolate, the apostolate needs to be given a clearer definition by its governing body, and the side that loses in the process needs to be prepared to rest content or move on. But the main point here is that these differences will always exist to some degree, and the wise apostle, knowing well the effects of the Fall on his own intellect and will, can do much good simply by stepping back from the controversy, working to bring the best out of his associates, and pressing for reasonable procedures by which clear decisions can be efficiently — if not painlessly — made.
The permutations of minor and major sufferings which can arise from the various realities connected with the Fall of man all add up to one thing: it is harder to persevere in the apostolate, day in and day out, than one might originally believe, and this problem of perseverance in the face of daily frustration (remember, it should have been a daily joy) is made greater by two other inevitable features of apostolic work.
The first is lack of success. No matter how successful an apostolate is, it will not be as successful as the green recruit is sure it will be. Sometimes it will even come close to total failure, hanging on by a mere thread. The really easy periods are likely to be few and far between. And all of this is exacerbated by the obvious fact that it is Joe's bad judgment, Bill's incompetence, or Ruth's lack of discretion which has so much contributed to the problem at hand.
The second feature is the concatenation of difficulties in the apostle's life. It wouldn't be so bad that Joe must work overtime for awhile because contributions are down, and that new position just can't be funded. But then Alice, Joe's secretary, gets sick for two weeks. And his two-year-old hasn't been sleeping well lately either. Now, on his way to an important meeting, his car breaks down. The next day, the office xerox goes bad, and to make matters worse he comes down with a cold. If Joe gets the flu, he'll miss that deadline . . .
All of this can be funny if Joe is not too tense, if it lasts just a few days out of each month, and if Joe is an old enough hand to remember the classic remedy of a good night's sleep. But pile six months or so of this type of thing on top of two previous years of hard work with little time off, and Joe will have, I promise you, a perseverance problem. Let me take just one example from my own experience as an illustration with a larger point.
My wife and I were in the midst of raising three young children with a fourth on the way, and I had been directing Christendom Publications for six years, when the particular incident occurred. It had been a frustrating period because various difficulties had forced us repeatedly to lay aside plans for the publications division which I believed would vastly increase our audience. But we had finally made the decision to quadruple our annual book output; we had new typesetting equipment on line; and I was eagerly throwing myself into a very special project, the Prayerbook for Catholics, by Fr. Robert Fox.
Unfortunately, the equipment wasn't working right. The whole system would shut itself down at various intervals from about every ten minutes to every ten hours. One never knew when disaster would strike and valuable work would be lost. Five visits by the service people produced no solution. I'm hardheaded, so after my staff went home, I'd take charge of the typesetter myself and wrestle the beast into submission until the small hours of the morning, page by agonizing page. This went on for weeks; I was nearing some absolutely critical deadlines and I could not manage to produce what was literally the smallest book Christendom had ever done.
I was exhausted, frustrated and angry. It seemed as if God were picking on me, after all I had tried to do for Him! (Yes, you'd be amazed at what an arrogant whiner I can be at times.) But then an intriguing possibility struck me: perhaps, at least, God was permitting the devil to harass me. After all, this was the first prayer book we had ever tried to publish. Perhaps Someone had a vested interest in seeing that it never came out.
Clearly I needed special help to persevere, and if I needed a more specific weapon, I decided it would be a squirt gun filled with Holy Water. I called Fr. Edward Berbusse, S.J., the Associate Chaplain, and asked if he'd come over and bless the machinery. He did, sprinkling it with Holy Water. He also gave me a picture of the Sacred Heart, and we enthroned it in the office. Immediately the typesetter started putting out good copy, and although it wasn't quite fixed, the service man found the problem and corrected it in fifteen minutes on his next visit (the sixth). The prayerbook was published shortly thereafter; all the critical deadlines had been met.
Now not every period of frustration has this kind of simple ending, and I have certainly missed plenty of deadlines. The point is that this sort of endless difficulty is endemic to the apostolate if only because the work to be accomplished is always vast, while the resources with which to accomplish it are almost vanishingly small. As Our Lord said, the harvest is great but the laborers are few (Lk 10:2). The incident I have recounted serves as well as any to highlight the need for God's help in the apostolate. Natural circumstances may thwart us, and, indeed, we may sometimes be under diabolical attack in a whole variety of petty ways. In such times trust in God can alone see us through, for perseverance is not a matter of circumstances, which are usually bad, but of grace, which is always good.
Conclusion: The Apostolate and Love
There are in the end three things that endure: faith, hope and love, and the greatest of these is love. (1 Cor 13:13)
In this context of suffering and perseverance, Pope John Paul II's apostolic exhortation Salvifici doloris is timely and to the point. In that document, the Pope states that there is always something passive about suffering even when it comes as a result of a man's own mistakes or sins.(7) Suffering, as distinct from a challenge which may involve sacrifice, looms beyond our control. It is my belief that, sooner or later, every apostle will experience the kind of suffering that he cannot escape and that, left to his own human powers, he cannot endure.
It may come suddenly, as when in the midst of all the trials and tribulations of the apostolate, a spouse or child or friend suddenly dies. It may come slowly, perhaps in the form of a growing infirmity of mind in an aged apostle, or a slow sickness in a young one. It may come inexorably, as an apostle watches an enterprise which had done much good for years sink slowly into oblivion, gone from service forever. It may in fact come in a thousand different ways, and no two brothers or sisters in Christ will face the same trauma, or even fully appreciate the weight of each other's cross.
The outsider may say that these sufferings come to all men, or at least to most, and indeed they do; all suffer the death of loved ones; sickness strikes good and evil men alike; any man's business can collapse; all men are tempted, and, indeed, all sin. But while it is important to realize the universality of such suffering, it is important for the apostle to recognize that in the apostolate this suffering has a special poignancy and a double edge. It is the kind of suffering that comes on top of everything else. It is the kind that comes in an hour that is already an hour of distress. It comes somehow from God to the servants of God, and strips bare men and women who thought they had already given everything to the One who now strikes them low. St. Teresa of Avila had a sense of humor about such things: she said that if this was how God treated his friends, it was no wonder He had so few. But not all of us, in the soul's dark night, will retain the laughter of the saints.
To say that suffering is experienced by the apostle in an especially intense way, however, is to echo Vatican II's statement that the apostolate is rooted in the very vocation to the Christian life. It may truly be said that commitment to the apostolate in some form is nothing more than an appropriately intense response to this call which we receive in baptism. And just as the mystery of suffering is at the very center of the Christian life, so that mystery will be experienced with particular intensity in the apostolic life.
But in baptism we also receive the three great supernatural powers, including preeminently the power of love. As a result, these sobering observations on suffering can be transformed into an occasion of deepest joy. In Salvifici doloris, the Pope makes this transformation clear:
In order to perceive the true answer to the "why" of suffering, we must look to the revelation of divine love . . . Love is also the richest source of the meaning of suffering . . .(13)
Christ suffered because God "so loved the world" (Jn 3:16). And, as St. Paul teaches, we are permitted in our own flesh to "make up what is lacking in the sufferings of Christ" (Col. 1:24). Moreover, says Pope John Paul II, this connection of suffering with love cannot be learned in the abstract, for Our Lord says simply, "Come, follow me!"(26) To engage in the apostolate is precisely to take up the cross, and in so doing the apostle discovers himself facing a great challenge which can only be met through love.
The Fathers of the Second Vatican Council wrote wisely when they said that charity is the soul of the apostolate (Apost. act., 3). Indeed, the entire apostolate is grounded in that fundamental charity or love which fires the soul when it receives the indwelling of the Blessed Trinity. It is this Divine virtue, propelled anew by the free act of the apostle's will, which moves him to prepare himself for apostolic work, to spare no effort in the efficient service of his neighbor concerning the things of God, and to endure all the trials his apostolate entails.
It may now be clear why these few reflections have proceeded from the theory of the apostolate and the testing of the apostle to the practice of the apostolate and the suffering of the apostle. But if this progression is accurate, it ought not at all to be depressing; indeed, the supreme beauty of the apostolate is in no way tarnished by its deeper mystery. In this progression and this mystery the apostle discovers a great secret, though to him it might seem more like a great surprise. For he really does receive a suffering he had not expected. But it is mirrored by a love he has not deserved.
© Christendom Educational CorporationThis item 7531 digitally provided courtesy of CatholicCulture.org
