3.1 Spiritual guidance in general

Opus Dei's aims are spiritual and apostolic: the sanctification of its members, and the fostering, among all men and women, of a truly Christian life in the midst of the world, preparing them to carry out an effective apostolate with their family, friends and colleagues. Its members aim at attaining holiness in the middle of the world, by fulfilling the obligations of their state in life. This is a quest for which they depend absolutely on the help of God's grace. Grace and good will and effort, however, are not enough for progress in the spiritual life. Spiritual authors concur on the need for spiritual guidance. 'Do you wish in good earnest to set out on the way of the devotion?', asks St Francis de Sales. 'Seek out some good man to guide and conduct you, it is the admonition of admonitions.' The universal call to holiness, repeatedly stressed in the documents of the Second Vatican Council, seems to imply that spiritual guidance is highly desirable, if not necessary, for everyone.

It is generally accepted that social life needs some form of established authority to preserve order and proper functioning. In the sphere of personal thought and inner life, however, to look for and to receive any sort of guidance is seen by some as either an abdication of rights or the symptom of some psychological inadequacy. To suggest guidance in this whole area would be considered by some, especially those without experience of it, to be unacceptable tyranny.

The risks run by those who attempt to seek holiness by directing their own spiritual lives have been eloquently described by the great masters of the spiritual life. Nobody is a good guide for himself, even if he is a master for others. St Bernard, in typically robust language, says that he 'who sets himself up as his own teacher becomes the pupil of a fool,' while St John of the Cross mentions how easy it is for the devil to prevail on those who want to do the things of God on their own. The experienced tempter, Screwtape, drawing from his long experience on this point, will encourage his nephew to bring his client

'to a condition in which he can practice self-examination for one hour without discovering any of those facts about himself which are perfectly clear to anyone who has ever lived in the same house with him or worked in the same office.'

Monsignor Escrivá's advice, then, follows the tradition of centuries of experience:

'It's good for you to know this doctrine, which is always safe: your own spirit is a bad adviser, a poor pilot to steer your soul through the squalls and storms, across the reefs of the interior life.'

On joining Opus Dei the faithful of the prelature commit themselves to strive for holiness and to carry out a Christian apostolate according to the spirit of Opus Dei, and to receive spiritual guidance from the prelature to enable them to fulfil these aims. The prelature, for its part, commits itself to providing this spiritual guidance and an appropriate doctrinal formation. This is the slender but strong bond between Opus Dei and its members: each one expects to receive from Opus Dei guidance in his or her spiritual life and apostolic activity (and in no other area: thus a person's professional, social, political and family life, etc., are not, and cannot be, part of that bond). It would therefore be illogical for a person to want to be a member of the prelature and, at the same time, habitually to look for spiritual guidance elsewhere.

3.2 Spiritual guidance in Opus Dei

Members of Opus Dei receive doctrinal training in different ways. They normally meet in relatively small groups for a doctrinal class or talk. The weekly meeting or 'circle' is one such way. It consists of practical talks on the spiritual life. In these meetings they do not reveal the state of their interior life, as Michael Walsh says in his book (p. 114), nor are there recriminations or accusations of any sort, nor is it a 'chapter of faults' which some religious have, nor has it'aspects of a group therapy session', neither with nor without the 'skilled therapist' he feels would be necessary for such a session to be healthy. So there's nothing that could 'be a very painful and psychologically damaging experience.' On the contrary, there is what is called in Latin an 'emendatio', which is a personal statement of some minor omission -- not a sin -- made as an act of humility. This is purely voluntary, and is not done by everyone each week.

Discussion of one's own spiritual life does happen, but never in any kind of group session. Rather such personal spiritual guidance takes place in sacramental confession and in a personal conversation with a director of Opus Dei, normally a lay person, or with another member appointed by the directors of Opus Dei.

Michael Walsh attacks the practice of having a lay spiritual director. 'It has to be remembered', he says, 'that the directors are not clergy. They are unlikely to have had even the minimum training in techniques of counselling or hearing confessions which priests might expect to receive in the seminary' (p.114). This is a remarkable statement coming from someone who, just a few chapters earlier in his book, was complaining of an alleged 'clerical mentality' of the founder, because he hadn't enough confidence in lay people. 'He was himself a priest; the leadership and spiritual direction of his organisation had to be in the hands of priests. There was no reason in theory why the lay pious union should not have remained just that: led by lay people, spiritually guided by lay people' (p.49). So he now condemns as unacceptable what he was earlier asserting as natural. As shall be noticed, consistency — the hostility towards Opus Dei excepted — is not a characteristic of his book.

Opus Dei is directed principally by the prelate and his vicars, assisted by councils constituted in the main by lay people. And spiritual guidance is in a good measure given by lay people. The theological studies done by the faithful of the prelature are aimed at providing them with the background they need to carry out this task.

The author prefers to ignore what has always been a common opinion: that spiritual guidance is not the preserve of the ordained clergy. Among the great spiritual directors of souls are men who were not priests, like St Francis of Assisi, and women like St Catherine of Siena (see her Letters) and St Teresa of Avila. St Teresa, for her part, developed a rich doctrine on the character and practice of spiritual guidance, which has become part of every standard treatise.

It is also commonly acknowledged that lay people, because of their office, often have a duty to fulfil a guiding role which has the character of true spiritual guidance. Such is the case of parents (with respect to their children), teachers (with their pupils), friends (in listening to and advising the person who has turned to them), social workers, and so on. The more recent awareness of the role played by lay people in the mission of the Church has helped to overcome the vision of those who may have thought that 'lay direction can be countenanced only rarely and only because of special circumstances.'

The Secret World of Opus Dei has been written with a non-Catholic reader in mind. This is the only explanation for the author's feigning surprise when the founder of Opus Dei refers to the necessary openness in the relationship with one's spiritual director. A Roman Catholic would recall words like those of St Francis de Sales:

'Treat him with an open heart, in all sincerity and fidelity, manifesting clearly to him your good and your evil without feint or dissimulation: and by this means your good will be examined and rendered better, and your evil will be corrected and remedied ...'.

He adds a spicey comment, possibly again with the non-Catholic reader in mind: 'members were expected to report to their directors upon their sex lives and problems - though the word "chastity" was preferred to sex. This was true even of married women who were supernumerary members' (p.113). This must conjure up, in the mind of the reader, all the moral disorders and indiscretions which confession evoked in the Protestant, and which the more bigoted anti-Catholic literature exploited. Among those who complained were the great moralists like Punch, a publication which declared itself 'always hostile to priestly ascendancy and ever forward in unqualified condemnation of the confessional, as the insidious foe of purity and domestic peace.' The fact is that, in Opus Dei, the virtue of chastity is treated as just one more among many other virtues, the importance of which is neither exaggerated nor ignored.

To complete the indictment Mr Walsh adds: 'None of this happens under what Roman Catholics call "the seal of the confessional", the pledge of absolute secrecy (even to the point of death if need be -- the Church has martyrs to prove it) of what is revealed to a priest in the sacrament of confession. It has to be remembered that the directors are not clergy' (pp.113-114). All this is true enough, as it is also true of many other private and confidential communications -- between the doctor and his patient, with psychiatrists and psychologists, lawyers, journalists and the ever growing variety of counsellors. Of the immense ocean covered by confidentiality only a tiny pool is under the seal of the confessional.

The author then wonders how the Church could approve this practice of regular spiritual guidance for Opus Dei, when in his estimation it had been forbidden for the religious orders and congregations by the law of the Church. It has, of course, never been forbidden by the Church. The author seems to have read only the first part of the canon on which he based his assumption. Canon 530 of the now defunct 1917 Code of Canon Law actually stated:

'All religious superiors are strictly forbidden to induce their religious subjects in any manner to manifest to them their state of conscience. The subjects however, are not forbidden to manifest of their own free will and choice their conscience to their superiors. On the contrary, it is proper that the subject should approach their superiors with filial confidence.'

The current Code (canon 630, 5) states that

'Members are to approach superiors with trust, to whom they can express their minds freely and willingly. However, superiors are forbidden to induce their subjects in any way whatever to make a manifestation of conscience to them.'

3.3 The Sacrament of Confession

The book makes some outlandish allegations about Opus Dei and Confession, saying 'Confession in Opus Dei becomes a major form of social control' (p.117), 'and is used to inspire feelings of guilt', and that, 'while making a nod in the direction of the requirement of Canon Law' (p.115) regarding freedom of choice of confessors, in practice members are told that 'confession to a non-Opus priest is forbidden' (p.116).

As already explained, members do receive spiritual guidance in the sacrament of Penance. The author quotes some words of Monsignor Escrivá to members on this subject, taken from an English translation of an article in Crónica, an Opus Dei internal magazine. As Michael Walsh attempts to make great capital of these words (pp.115-116), it is best to quote them in full, adding in brackets words he has chosen to omit from his quotation:

'You can go to confession with any priest who has faculties from the Ordinary [permission from the local diocesan bishop]. In this way I defend freedom, but with common sense. All my sons and daughters have freedom to go to confession with any priest approved by the Ordinary, and they are not obliged to tell the directors of the Work what they have done. Does a person who does this sin? No! Does he have good spirit? No! He is on the way to listening to the voice of bad shepherds.' (Here he skips a page.)
'You will go to your brothers the priests as I go. And to them you will open wide your heart -- rotten if it be rotten! -- with sincerity, with a deep desire to cure yourself. If not, that rottenness would never be cured. If we were to go to a person who could only cure our wound superficially ... it would be because we are cowards, because we wouldn't be good sheep, because we would go to hide the truth to our own detriment… And doing this wrong, seeking a second-hand doctor who cannot give us more than a few seconds of his time, who cannot use the bistoury and cauterize the wound, we would also harm the Work. If you were to do this you'd have the wrong spirit; you'd be unhappy. You wouldn't sin because of this, but woe to you! You would have begun to err, to make a mistake.'

It should be noted that the translations used by the author were preliminary drafts, intended for people who could not follow the Spanish original; they are not official translations, nor have they any pretensions to literary quality, but are simply intended to get across the main ideas. Often the Spanish original of some phrases is included. But Michael Walsh says 'In the case of Crónica I did not have access to the Spanish version but only to an English translation.' This allows him to 'suspect "second-rank" might be a more appropriate rendering of the original than "second-hand", but that is a guess' (p.115). In this context, a 'second-rank doctor' is, of course, a derogatory reference to the clergy not in Opus Dei and suits the author's approach. The original Spanish is “un médico de occasion”, which has nothing to do with being second-rate or second-rank; rather, it means a doctor who is not acquainted with the patient's clinical history, and sees him for the first and probably the last time: the first doctor one comes across (as for example, in an emergency). Certainly 'second-hand' is not a good translation, but 'second-rank' is clearly a misrepresentation.

The same article refers to confession not just from the point of view of the forgiveness of sins but also as a means of spiritual formation. On innumerable occasions St Teresa of Avila insisted on the need for confessors to be not only learned in matters of spiritual life but also conversant with the spirituality of the Discalced Carmelites. She eloquently describes the harm that a well-intentioned confessor may cause to the soul when he doesn't know the paths that soul is following. That is the reason why she recommends her nuns to go to confession, whenever possible, with Discalced friars. Such common sense advice is not intelligible to the author, for he prefers to see in Monsignor Escrivá's words 'a major form of social control' (p.117), with a 'psychological impact ... upon those subject to it' which is 'disturbing' (p.117).

3.4 Spirit of fear?

Mr Walsh then claims that the priests of Opus Dei use the sacrament 'to inspire feelings of guilt because of failure to live up to the highest ideals and thereby damaging the whole institution' (p.117). At this point the author enlists the help of a priest, Fr Brendan Callaghan (p.117), to assert that the spirit of Opus Dei is one of fear. Fr Callaghan studied the Crónica article quoted above and focused his attention on a short phrase (which, incidentally, he takes out of context): 'Filial fear is the gateway to love.' The context makes clear that the fear referred to here is the fear of the loss of intimacy with God, which is no less than one of the gifts of the Holy Spirit.

Here is Fr Callaghan's reaction to that sentence: 'It kind of sums up the whole Opus approach, doesn't it. It is a pity it's got nothing to do with the Gospel' (p.118). It is rather a pity that Fr Callaghan does not mention the Book of Ecclesiasticus (chapter 25) where one reads: 'The fear of the Lord is the beginning of loving him'; or Psalm 18's 'How sacred a thing is the fear of the Lord'; or the Blessed Virgin's Magnificat where she exclaims: 'His mercy is from age to age to those who fear him' (Lk 1:50); or the outcome of the conversation between Christ and the thieves on the cross when one says to the other 'Have you no fear of God?'(Lk 23:40); or, for example, the first Gentile convert, Cornelius, who was a 'God-fearing man' (Acts 10:22). In fact, St Luke reports that Christ himself explicitly told his disciples to fear God rather than bullies or tyrants: 'Him you must fear indeed' (Lk 12:6). The Gospels, and consequently Christianity, speak a lot about different kinds of fear, and distinguish between a healthy (filial) fear (and the quote in question specifically says filial fear), and at least two kinds of unhealthy fear, namely servile fear and excessive fear of suffering.

In any case, for the founder of Opus Dei, fear could only be a filial one:

'No entiendo otro temor que no sea el del hijo que sufre porque ha disgustado a su padre: no tememos de otro modo a Dios, que es nuestro Padre (Letter, 29-IX-57). [I do not understand any fear except that of a son who suffers because he has disappointed his father. We do not fear God in any other way, for God is our Father.' ]

Elsewhere Monsignor Escrivá writes:

'This divine filiation is at the basis of the spirituality of Opus Dei (...). A child of God treats the Lord as his Father. He is not obsequious and servile, he is not merely formal and well mannered: he is completely sincere and trusting. Men do not scandalize God. He can put up with all our infidelities. Our Father in heaven pardons any offence when his child returns to him, when he repents and asks for pardon. The Lord is such a good Father that he anticipates our desire to be pardoned and comes forwards to us opening his arms laden with grace.'

Divine filiation and spiritual childhood, its corollary, are constant themes in the writings of Monsignor Escrivá.

3.5 Use of the word 'Father'

The author states that Opus Dei's insistence on calling its founder 'our Father' gives rise to a confusion between Escrivá's fatherhood and the Fatherhood of God, with undesirable consequences (p.118). Further, he says the confusion 'is contrived' (p.117).

It is true that members do refer to the founder as 'Father.' But Mr Walsh seems unaware that the same custom is found in many spiritual organisations: see, for example, Cardinal Newman referring to St Philip Neri; and Alphonsus Rodriguez, S.J., in Practice of Perfection and Christian Charity (London 1929), where in Vol. 2, pp. 606-608 he uses 'our Father' no less than five times when referring to St Ignatius. Later Michael Walsh carries this idea to the point of absurdity: 'All grace leading to salvation come to Opus Dei members through the founder. It is through the grace of the founder that you are what you are' (p.171).

While to someone who hasn't experienced it there might seem to be potential for confusion, the fact is that even children have no difficulty in distinguishing between all kinds of fathers: from God 'the Father', 'the Holy Father' (meaning the Pope), 'Father Jones' (or whoever) of the local parish clergy, perhaps 'Father Christmas', and all these added to their own family father, their godfather, and perhaps their grandfather. Later children learn about many other 'fathers', from foster fathers to founding fathers. In practice there's little confusion between God the Father and any of these other 'fathers', even for a seven year old: so adults should manage not to confuse themselves on this one, and both Mr Walsh and his clinical psychologist adviser on this issue (p.117) can rest easy.

Note that, in warming to his argument about 'fathers', the author seems to forget a phrase he himself used earlier in developing another myth when he referred to the Oratorians as 'the sons of St Philip' (p.69). Interestingly enough, in the case of this father-sons relationship he does not express any concern about 'some form of symbiosis' of wills (no less), giving rise to such unpleasant (sorry, 'devastating') consequences as 'enormous psychological pressure' which poor Opus Dei members must surely feel, as a result of this alleged confusion of fathers (p.118).

3.6 Spiritual guidance and obedience

The spirituality of Opus Dei — while rooted in the message of the Gospel — is new in many ways, and it may sometimes be difficult to find precedents for aspects of it in previous theology, or in the history of spirituality after the period of the early Christians. But this is not the case with spiritual guidance — it is described by the founder in words which find parallels in every period of the history of spirituality.

The same applies to the topic of how one should follow the indications of one's spiritual director. The traditional teaching is that obedience to a director is the safest way for the individual to discover and follow God's will. St Francis de Sales says:

'Although you may search, you will never find the will of God so assuredly, as by the way of this humble obedience, so much recommended and practised by all the devout men of old.'

True obedience needs to involve both mind and heart, the internal acceptance of the advice received. Otherwise, it would be the obedience of a slave, a corpse or a machine. Michael Walsh (cf. p.118) seems genuinely surprised by this.

In Opus Dei there are very precise limits to this obedience: professional, political, cultural, family matters, and so on, are expressly excluded from the guidance members receive. It is obvious that these matters could arise in a conversation with a spiritual director, but only incidentally, and only in so far as they might affect the person's spiritual life at a given moment.

3.7 Apostolate and 'proselytism'

To Jesus' explicit command to spread the Good News to all men (Matt 28:28) corresponds the Christian's duty to do apostolate. In the words of the Second Vatican Council:

'The members of the Church are impelled to engage in this activity (apostolic, missionary) because of the charity with which they love God and by which they desire to share with all men the spiritual goods of this life and the life to come.'

Thus, the 'Christian vocation is, of its nature, a vocation to the apostolate as well.' No Christian is excluded from this obligation and, consequently no member of Opus Dei is exempt from the duty to do apostolate, not because he or she is in Opus Dei but because of a commitment acquired at Baptism. Apostolate is

'... the precise and necessary outward manifestation of interior life. When one tastes the love of God, one "feels" burdened with the weight of souls: there is no way to separate interior life from apostolate, just as there is no way to separate Christ, the God-man, from his role as redeemer.'

The apostolic concern of members of Opus Dei extends to all men without distinction of race, nation or social status. They try to help all Christians to answer the universal call to holiness, in their work and in the fulfilment of the other obligations inherent in their state in life. They also try to prepare those who are not Christian to receive the grace of faith (cf. Statutes, nos. 111 and 115). Members of Opus Dei would certainly like to see many more vocations to Opus Dei, for the joy and grace it would mean for the people concerned, and to have more helpers in the work of apostolate, in the social projects, and so on. They will often pray for this and will not be slow to invite their friends to consider if they too might have a vocation like theirs. But it is God who grants the vocation, and as with any other vocation, it only makes sense if a person answers it freely, willingly, cheerfully, and lovingly. And in practice the question of a possible vocation arises in only a very few cases among those attending activities organised in centres of Opus Dei.

3.8 Apostolate of the laity

The Second Vatican Council and the recent Apostolic Exhortation of Pope John Paul II, The Vocation and Mission of the Lay Faithful in the Church and in the World, [Christifideles laici], have dealt at length with the apostolate of the laity. Paragraph 28 of the latter gives an illuminating description of this apostolate. Given the relevance of the text it is worth quoting in full:

'Above all, each member of the lay faithful should always be fully aware of being a member of the Church yet entrusted with a unique task which cannot be done by another and which is to be fulfilled for the good of all. From this perspective the Council's insistence on the absolute necessity of an apostolate exercised by the individual takes on its full meaning: "The apostolate exercised by the individual -- which flows abundantly from a truly Christian life (cf. John 4:11) -- is the origin and condition of the whole lay apostolate, even in its organized expression and admits no substitute. Regardless of circumstance, all lay persons (including those who have no opportunity or possibility for collaboration in associations) are called to this type of apostolate and are obliged to engage in it. Such an apostolate is useful at all times and places, but in certain circumstances is the only one available and feasible" (Decree on the Apostolate of the Laity, 16) ... Such an individual form of apostolate can contribute greatly to a more extensive spreading of the Gospel, indeed it can enrich as many places as there are daily lives of individual lay people. Furthermore, the spread of the gospel will be continual, since a person's life and faith will be one. Likewise the spread of the gospel will be particularly incisive, because in sharing fully in the unique conditions of the life, work, difficulties and hopes of their sisters and brothers, the lay faithful will be able to reach the hearts of their neighbours, friends, and collegues, opening them to a full sense of human existence, that is, to communion with God and with all people.' (Italics added).

This 'individual', 'continual' and 'incisive' apostolate implies that the lay person's main apostolate is to be carried out in his own environment and with the people around him, with whom he shares not just a place, but also a way of life and a series of common interests, problems and perceptions.

The apostolate of Opus Dei members — which knows no barriers of race, class, or condition — is a lay apostolate. The lay man or woman lives 'in the world.' The Second Vatican Council,

'… in describing the lay faithful's situation in the secular world, points to it above all, as the place in which they receive their call from God ... This "place" is treated and presented in dynamic terms: the lay faithful "live in the world, that is, in every one of the secular professions and occupations. They live in the ordinary circumstances of family and social life, from which the very fabric of their existence is woven" (Dogmatic Constitution of the Church, 31)'.

The 'world', so defined, is the place and the instrument for their sanctification and apostolate: the activities in which they are involved and the relationships generated by them are the matter to be sanctified and the environment for their apostolate.

In describing Opus Dei's apostolic activity, Monsignor Escrivá said:

'The essential apostolate of Opus Dei is the apostolate each member carries out in his own place of work, with his family, among his friends -- an apostolate which does not attract attention, which cannot easily be expressed in statistics but which yields holiness in thousands of souls who keep on following Christ, quietly and effectively, during their ordinary everyday work.'

Apostolate with one's equals seems to run counter to Michael Walsh's mental structures: 'To businessmen who linger too long over a business lunch he brings consolation: he recommends the dinner-table apostolate (Maxim 974). But they will be spared the possible embarrassment of mixing with unsuitable guests. Members of Opus are expected to exercise their apostolate principally among their equals' (p.110).

Firstly, The Way makes no mention of business lunches, rather it says: '"The dinner-table apostolate": it is the old hospitality of the Patriachs, together with the fraternal warmth of Bethany. When we practise it, we seem to glimpse Jesus there, presiding, as in the house of Lazarus.' But more importantly, the author seems unaware that all lay people are supposed to do apostolate with their peers. He may not have read The Vocation and Mission of the Lay Faithful in the Church and in the World, Christifideles laici, but he cannot ignore the Second Vatican Council:
'The apostolate in one's social environment endeavours to infuse the Christian spirit into the mentality and behaviour, laws and structures of the community in which one lives. To such a degree is it the special work and responsibility of lay people, that no one else can ever properly supply for them. In this area laymen can conduct the apostolate of like towards like. There, the witness of their life is completed by the witness of their word. It is amid the surroundings of their work that they are best qualified to be of help to their brothers, in the surroundings of their profession, of their study, residence, leisure or local group' (italics added).

For a member of Opus Dei, as for other lay people, daily activity and social relationships are their meeting places with God, the 'raw material' for their personal sanctity and apostolate. Sanctification and apostolate are not new activities or new relationships to be added on to those which the individual already has. They result from imbuing everyday life with a Christian spirit: thus work and rest, family and friendship, are sanctified.

3.9 Apostolate: a service to the Church

Opus Dei aspires to bring souls to God. The apostolate of Opus Dei, with young and not so young, is directed to the improvement of their spiritual lives. It is natural that of these, a few will feel a calling from God -- some to join a religious order, others to the priesthood, and some to Opus Dei. The majority will try to improve in their spiritual lives and some will continue their contact with Opus Dei without becoming members. Opus Dei simply encourages people to face up to the demands of God's unique plan for each individual.

The prelature aims to serve the Church. Growth in the depth of the spiritual life of its members would make this service more effective. That is why one of its aims is 'to promote in the world the greatest possible number of souls dedicated to God in Opus Dei for the service of the Catholic Church and the good of souls', as the author correctly states. But apparently he sees this as disturbing, and in case the reader has missed this overtone, he adds immediately, as if it followed as a direct consequence: 'Opus Dei comes first' (p.160). In fact, all kinds of vocations arise through the apostolic work of the members of Opus Dei. Not a few monks, priests and nuns are grateful to Opus Dei for the spiritual support they received in their student years.

3.10 Social projects get a mention (just)

In countries all over the world, members of Opus Dei, along with others who share their concern, have set up a wide range of social projects, from the slums of big Western cities, to the poorest areas in remote valleys in the Andes. These are not ends in themselves and have no fixed format or approach. Rather each one is a practical contribution to finding a Christian solution to a particular social problem, a response to some specific local need, carried out in the way that seems best to those involved. A book about Opus Dei would seem lopsided if it didn't make some mention of such projects.

Well, our investigator does in fact devote almost a whole sentence to the topic. It's on page 175: '... Opus which can claim, in all justice, to run agricultural and industrial schools, training schools in domestic service for women, and so on.'

A generous concession, 'in all justice.' But wait, all this really doesn't count. The fact of all those people devoting their lives to helping the less fortunate is really, on deeper analysis, another bad mark against Opus Dei. How come? Because, he explains, they are working on the wrong model of the Church. They're clearly on the Mater et Magistra model ('Mother and Teacher' model), which means they're 'leading the Church to become a Church for the poor rather than a Church with or of the poor' (p.175).

So there you have it. He was able to mention these projects, albeit very briefly, because they could then be summarily dismissed. As often happens throughout the book, a mention of something apparently complimentary is granted only to be taken away again, with interest. But this time he does it in style, with learned paragraphs on Church models (pp.175-6), based on Leonardo Boff, adding his own (modest) contribution to the theory, and especially its application to 'Opus' which, he emphasises, Boff hadn't got around to, so our author is making good the omission.

[As an aside, if you, the reader, are involved in social projects, motivated by Christian ideals, you might like to stop for a moment and think. Perhaps you too are working on a 'Mater et Magistra model' (unconsciously of course: one wouldn't dream of suggesting you might do it deliberately) which renders your work, well, somehow invalid. And while you're thinking out this question, if you can also work out how one can work for the poor without at the same time working with the poor, or vice versa, you might let the rest of us know, so that we too can correct our model. Because apparently having the right model is decisive.]

3.11 'Proselytism'

The reduction of apostolate to 'proselytism' amounts to a tunnel vision characteristic of the author's approach to his topic. He does try to mask it with a thin cloak of seemingly scholarly analysis of The Way. Taking the index of the book he 'discovers' that the entry Proselitismo in the original Spanish does not appear in the English edition. After further careful study, he finds that there is, instead, an entry for 'Winning new apostles.' Opus Dei, he claims, is out to deceive people about its true intentions: 'The problem about translating proselitismo as 'winning new apostles' is that it gives quite the wrong impression. Apostles are preachers of the Gospel. The primary end of Opus Dei's proselytism, on the other hand, is to win recruits for itself' (p.160).

He does not stop to consider that The Way — with some three and a half million copies sold — is not a book simply for people of Opus Dei (some 76,000 strong). Nor does he mention that there are at least three points about apostolate in the book for every one on 'proselytism.' Indeed, had he cared to check just a few of the different English editions of The Way he would have found that most of them have the entry 'Proselytism' in the index, a few have 'Winning new apostles', and he would even have discovered one or two with the entry 'Proselytism/Winning new apostles.' It would perhaps have been easier for him to check the indices of the last two published works — still in their first English edition — of Monsignor Escrivá: Furrow (1987) and The Forge (1988). Both books have the entry 'Proselytism.'
In any case, there is a very simple explanation for all this alleged sleight of hand in some editions of a single book — namely, that different translators choose different solutions. Words change in character and usage with time. It is arguable that the English word 'proselytism' is a poor translation of the Spanish word proselitismo. 'Proselytism' is a rare word in English spiritual literature or culture. Much more frequently found instead are words like 'evangelisation', 'missionary work', 'conversion', 'seeking vocations', 'spreading the good news.' 'Proselytism' often has derogatory connotations (see the entry in the Oxford English Dictionary, for example): in fact, it is precisely these derogatory connotations that the author is after. So some translators will prefer to express the idea using a phrase like "Winning new apostles."

Furthermore, if Opus Dei really is trying to mislead the public, or hide something, then how careless of it to leave the 'revealing' word in all Spanish texts, edition after edition, not to mention leaving it in the majority of English and other translations, and to have them on sale in bookshops all over the world.

3.12 Monopoly of salvation?

The author's strategy in his attack on the apostolate of members proceeds by way of reduction. He tries to show that Opus Dei's only interest — or, at least, its first and overriding intention — is self-aggrandizement and self-perpetuation.

On one occasion he attributes 'proselytizing' to more noble (though, of course, misguided) motives: its members – according to him – seem to think that to belong to Opus Dei

'… has become, however, not simply a serious commitment to the following of Christ, but the only true way in which the teachings of Christ can be understood. Just like Christianity which, until relatively recent times, did not accept that non-believers could be "saved" and achieve eternal happiness in heaven, members of Opus are taught to think the same of their own organization. It is the one sure hope of salvation. Hence the enormous emphasis on winning converts, on proselytizing ...' (p. 170).

Supporting evidence for this supposed conviction is a quotation (p.116) from Monsignor Escrivá, referring to the crisis in the Church after Vatican II, in which he spoke of 'an authentic rottenness, and at times it seems as if the Mystical Body of Christ were a corpse in decomposition ....'

More than one critic of Opus Dei has quoted this in mock horror. Monsignor Escrivá, when he said this, made it clear that he was echoing 'what the Holy Father felt and was in fact saying publicly.' Pope Paul VI had indeed spoken out very clearly. He referred to an 'auto-demolition' (self-destruction) taking place in the Church. Elsewhere he spoke in dramatic terms along the same lines:

'We believed that after the Council would come a day of sunshine in the history of the Church. But instead there has come a day of clouds and storms, and of darkness ... And how did this come about? We will confide to you the thought that maybe, we ourselves admit in free discussion, that may be unfounded, and that is that there has been a power, an adversary power. Let us call him by his name: the devil.'

And again:

'It is as if from some mysterious crack, no, it is not mysterious, from some crack, the smoke of Satan has entered the temple of God.'

And again:

'The Church is suffering. This collective malaise (of civil society) ... has its effect on the Church ... it is reducing its self-confidence, taking away its pleasure in its interior unity ... Treasures of the Church are being squandered. Some of its children, teachers and ministers, challenge the Church ... Authority is being easily combatted and dissolved, sometimes in excessive pluralism in which a certain instinctive egoism, and not a unifying charity, appears to prevail' (29 April 1970).

'But then here is our disappointment. To the holiness of the Church, seen in her ideal and divine plan, there does not always correspond holiness in the Church, seen in the human reality of the members who belong to her' (20 October 1971).

'How, for example, are we to overcome the difficulty of the division, the disintegration which unfortunately is now to be found at many levels within the Church? ... Never before has so much been said regarding communion, and often by those very people who promote forms of association which are the very opposite of true communion' (29 August 1973).

To this and other possible quotes from the Pope one could add similar remarks from many bishops, theologians, and other commentators, all renowned for their love for the Church. Indeed it is precisely their love and loyalty that makes them speak in this way.

Even, wonder of wonders, our own expert guide to Church affairs, Mr Walsh, allows in a different context that there is now 'evidence of a Church which is today divided against itself' (p.185); because now it suits his argument. Yet similar sentiments from Monsignor Escrivá constitute evidence of 'suspicion of those who had not come under his influence' (p.116).

In any case, once again the quotation has been edited in an extraordinarily blatant way. For, immediately after the sentence with 'it seems as if the Mystical Body of Christ were a corpse in decomposition', Monsignor Escrivá in fact said the following: 'But don't be afraid: I said "it seems as if" because this Body, the Church, is immortal: the Holy Spirit helps it and vivifies it in an ineffable way.' So readers of The Secret World were denied Monsignor Escrivá's explanation of his own words, given almost in the same breath, and instead got Michael Walsh's far-fetched interpretation, making them say almost the exact opposite of their clearly intended meaning.

Indeed on this topic of monopoly of salvation, our author has also omitted many relevant quotes from TheWay, a book he so likes to quote on other issues: 'Rejoice, when you see others working in good apostolic activities ...' (The Way, 965).

'You show bad spirit if it hurts you to see others work for Christ without regard for what you are doing. Remember this passage in Saint Mark: "Master, we saw a man who is not one of us casting out devils in your name; and because he was not one of us we tried to stop him". But Jesus said, "You must not stop him: no one who works a miracle in my name is likely to speak evil of me. Anyone who is not against us is for us"' (966).

The testimonies of those who knew him personally corroborate the living reality of these words. Fr Sancho, O.P. has testified how the founder was delighted to welcome apostolic initiatives of other people and institutions of the Church: 'He was never exclusive. He had an open spirit and an untiring zeal for all souls ... He always used to say, "the more people there are serving God, the better."' The bishop of Ciudad Real, Dr. Juan Hervás, who started a well-known movement of Christian renewal, and who had been a victim of a storm of criticism, wrote about the encouragement he had received from the founder of Opus Dei at the time:

'His words were brief and to the point and they brought me great comfort at a time when things were certainly difficult for the Cursillos de Cristiandad ... In this providential and unexpected way that man of God ... intervened to encourage an undertaking that was not his own and poured out charity and understanding on a method of spirituality which was following paths different from his own.'

3.13 Apostolate of friendship

At every level, apostolic activity implies sharing with others the knowledge and life of faith. It is obvious that the existence of a deep and personal relationship -- with the consequent sharing at different levels it implies -- facilitates and is the most natural vehicle for the sharing of the life of faith. Human love between husband and wife, parents and children, friend and friend, establishes openness and communion between the parties, the natural sharing of joys and sorrows, aspirations and desires, ideals and outlook. It is here that the lay apostolate finds its most natural setting and the most appropriate channels. Jesus himself, when describing his relationship with his disciples, speaks of it as one of friendship: 'No longer do I call you servants, for the servant does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends' (John 15:15). Christ is the friend who shares with his friends his knowledge of the things of God, his love for the Father, and the movements of his heart.

The author appears to be a stranger to all this. He does not seem to understand an apostolate based on friendship and trust. He has already said that Opus Dei is not interested in apostolate -- bringing souls closer to God -- but only in 'proselytism'; now he adds: 'Those with friends among members of Opus may be disturbed to learn that this friendship is regarded as a means to attract new recruits' (p. 160). The true nature of friendship seems to escape him. For true Christian friendship can never be separated from apostolate.

The Christian, who rates eternal happiness higher than any other good, will wish his friend to enjoy it and will desire to share it with him before any other good. 'Charity is based on a sharing in eternal happiness', says St Thomas Aquinas. Friendship thus becomes apostolate, the sharing between friends of the greatest good: the knowledge and the love of God. There cannot be true friendship if this charity is absent.

The author proceeds 'to reveal' how once the Opus Dei member has made a friend he hands him over to 'the professionals.' Friendship is then forgotten -- it has served its purpose as a bait -- and now 'the erstwhile friends then move on to further "fishing" expeditions' (p. 161). Meanwhile -- according to the author -- 'the professionals' are hard at work. Those who attend a centre of Opus Dei 'are unaware they are being carefully vetted: Before a fellow takes part in the weekly class, better still before he can attend the class of formation, the Director has to talk to him alone ... In that private conversation with the youngster who intends to attend the courses make him see -- the Father indicates -- that our house is not a place for recreation (we don't have, nor will we have, even a billiards table). It is rather an unpleasant place, where they often ask you if you pray etc., if you are good to your parents ... if you study' (p.161).

Note that this quotation bears little relation to 'vetting', where the individual is supposedly unaware of what is going on. On the contrary, if anything it indicates clearly that the individual is being candidly told exactly what to expect in a centre of Opus Dei, and what not to expect.
Having just said that the person taking part in the weekly formation class will be asked whether he is good to his parents, the author adds, in the same breath, that Opus Dei aims at alienating 'children' from their families.

Finally, in the context of this alleged 'baiting', it is worth stressing the obvious point that freedom is fundamental to the Christian view of life: one cannot in any sense be forced to love a person, and still less to love God. The idea that one could somehow be hoodwinked into trying to be a saint is patent nonsense. Sanctity and internal freedom are intimately interwoven. This was a constant theme of the founder's teaching and writing, who furthermore was an untiring champion of the need to respect the freedom of others.

3.14 'Alienation' of parents

Michael Walsh accepts that 'Stories of parental opposition to joining religious communities ... are nothing new in the history of the Church' (p. 163). He selects two cases among many: St Thomas Aquinas (who joined the Dominicans against his parents' wishes) and St Stanislaus Kostka (who ran away from his family at the age of sixteen to become a Jesuit and died — in holiness — at the age of 18). He also adds, in fairness, that stories of alienation from parents of sons and daughters who have joined Opus Dei 'have to be treated with a certain caution. Opus Dei is new and relatively unknown. Some of the parents have said that they would not have objected — or not objected so much — had their daughters chosen to join one of the well-established sisterhoods' (p.163).

The process of 'alienation' is described: Opus Dei, in its all absorbing zest for 'new recruits', targets 'children'; they are told not to tell their parents about joining Opus Dei; once they join the 'children' are further alienated from their parents by being isolated from family relationships.

The first question one is inclined to ask is: Do 'children' really join Opus Dei? The author makes several references to this matter:

'More importantly, because it is one of the most controversial issues surrounding Opus, candidates have to be at least seventeen years old.

But that is not quite the whole story. In paragraph 20, section 4 the Constitutions lay down that a candidate must spend at least half a year working in the Opus apostolate "under competent authority", before admission, which brings the age of effective entry down to sixteen .... It is clearly envisaged that teenagers much younger than the official age of entry will be already closely allied with Opus, if not formally members' (p.93).

And again later on:

'On the other hand, two women assistant numeraries were adamant that ... nobody was admitted until they were more than eighteen years of age. That might technically be true, though recruitment certainly begins before that age' (p.165).

People join the prelature at different stages in their lives. Most do so when they are well into their working and family lives. There is no upper age limit, but there has to be some lower limit. The Statutes of Opus Dei, given by the Pope, establish very clearly that nobody can even ask (formally) to be admitted to Opus Dei before he or she is sixteen and a half years of age. The actual admission does not follow until the candidate gets further acquainted with the spirituality of Opus Dei and becomes known to the directors. Only later will he make a formal contract with the prelature, and that not before he is at least eighteen. And then the commitment is temporary, for a year at a time.

In practice, few ask to be admitted at the lower age limit. Vocations to Opus Dei tend to come later in life. Nevertheless, in some cases a specific calling from God may come at an early age. The 'Commision for Priestly Formation' of the Bishops Conference of England and Wales made this point not long ago. In the introduction to the document produced by the Commission — the bishops saw it in their meeting of November 1982 and 'commended it for study in their dioceses' — Bishop Brewer says the following:

'Experience has shown that while many men are applying to be accepted as candidates for the priesthood at a later age than was customary, very many of them felt the first stirrings of an attraction to it at a very early age -- perhaps as young as eleven or twelve years of age. The booklet, therefore, is particularly concerned, though not exclusively, with boys in their teens, and says something about the different methods which can, and are, profitably used to assist in their human and vocational development.'

A priest who loves his vocation will keep an eye out for youngsters among his parishioners or altarboys who show signs of a possible priestly vocation, and when he finds them will do what he can to foster this noble desire.

The prelature will not take much heed of an eleven or twelve year old who says he'd like to be a member when he grows up. But if the same thing is said in later teens in a way which shows sufficient understanding and maturity, such good dispositions will be supported and appropriate spiritual guidance given. He (or she) still cannot belong to the prelature, but can certainly prepare for and look forward to the day when he can join, if the dispositions are still there, and the prelature is satisfied that the person is acting in a free, informed, mature, and responsible way.

The author goes on to tell us that further alienation from the parents is achieved by isolating the person who joins from the family, not allowing their sons and daughters to visit their parents for more than 'a couple of nights a year' for 'fear that, should they be exposed to family events, ties of affection would quickly be restored' (p.163).

It would be well to define the issue. First, it could only affect those who join or want to join as numeraries. For the associates continue living with their families and the supernumeraries with their spouse and children, or with their parents. Supernumeraries constitute 80% of Opus Dei's membership. Secondly, most who ask to be admitted as numeraries do so after they are eighteen, and many are much older. Thirdly, those who ask to be admitted as numeraries before that age will not leave their parents' home to live in a centre of Opus Dei until much later. Even those who have joined -- and one can only become a member of the prelature after eighteen -- may continue living with their parents for some years afterwards. The reality is that most parents of numeraries are very happy to see their son or daughter in Opus Dei. Many comment that these are their happiest children who often show them most love and affection.

It is, however, true to say that those who join the prelature as numeraries don't spend as much time with their families as some parents perhaps would like them to, or as much as another single son or daughter might do. For it is a common misconception to equate and treat a numerary as an unmarried son or daughter, free from the duties to spouse and children. The amount of time a numerary spends with his parents will depend on personal circumstances, the health of his parents, and so on; but in general it will compare favourably with, for example, the time a parent of a large family can afford to spend with his own parents while leaving the other spouse to look after the children.

The vocation to celibacy enables a numerary to devote more time to taking care of othermembers of the Work and to the various apostolic activities undertaken by Opus Dei. Most of these men and women will be working in their chosen career; after a day's work, they will use their time to help in apostolic projects and in the spiritual and doctrinal formation of other members.

Furthermore, in order to look after other members of the Work, numeraries — both men and women — also undertake studies in theology and philosophy at a level comparable to those of a candidate for the priesthood. Clearly fitting all that into their lives does not leave much time for other things. Numeraries will love their parents very dearly, but they will not be able to spend long holidays with them: for this is about the only time they have for their theological studies and formation.

It is possible that some parents may feel distanced from their daughters and sons because, understandably, they would like to have them around the house more. Sometimes the 'children' may not have properly explained their vocation and its demands to their parents. Sometimes also parents may have unduly projected themselves onto their son or daughter and may feel disappointed because they have not followed the life-plan they envisaged for them. It's also possible, though not excusable, that a daughter or son might be careless about writing regularly to his or her parents, or about visiting them even if they are not very far from where they live, perhaps on the mistaken excuse that they are too busy. It can also happen that a domineering parent may resent no longer being able to impose his or her will on their now adult son or daughter. Another factor is the universal experience that a person's character can change as he or she goes from teenage to adulthood, and parents may be quick to attribute changes in mood or behaviour for example to involvement with Opus Dei when in reality they may be due to many other causes.

A further point worth noting is that organised campaigns against Opus Dei have gone

'as far as troubling the consciences of the parents of the members of the Work. Sometimes it was through the confessional. At other times they would make a special visit to the families concerned.' Many parents were reduced to tears after such visits. They were being told that their sons were involved in something 'heretical' and that they were on the road to perdition ...'

Some were so affected that they fell ill.

Similar visits are still being made. It is only recently, in the United Kingdom, that the parents of a young lady, well into her career, who had asked to join Opus Dei, were visited by someone who asked not to reveal his or her identity to their daughter. The visitor then proceeded to paint a horrifying image of Opus Dei, and left. The parents were highly disturbed by the information, and even refused to discuss it with their daughter.

The teaching of the founder of Opus Dei is crystal clear:

'The commandment to love our parents belongs to both natural and divine positive law, and I have always called it a "most sweet precept." Do not neglect your obligation to love your parents with a love that grows stronger by the day, to mortify yourself for them, to pray for them and to be grateful to them for all the good you owe them.'

Someone wanting to join Opus Dei, at whatever age, will naturally tell those closest to him, as he would if he were to become engaged. He won't always rush to do so, just as a boy won't rush to introduce his girlfriend to his parents after his second date, or to tell them he's thinking of entering a seminary. Ideas and plans have a natural gestation process in the mind and heart, a time when things are part of the deepest intimacy of the person, not to be untimely revealed. The reality is that most people do in fact discuss the matter with their parents before asking to join Opus Dei.

Cardinal Hume's recommendations for the Archdiocese of Westminster (discussed below) acknowledge that a young person may occasionally find it difficult or impossible to discuss this matter with his parents, or that it may be inappropriate to do so. This echoes common opinion among ecclesiastical authors and theologians: that in choosing and following their vocation as a priest or religious — the only vocations they used to consider until very recently — not only is the individual not obliged to consult his parents: in certain cases it would be imprudent to do so. Two Doctors of the Church, St Alphonsus Liguori and St Thomas Aquinas, are the standard authorities on this matter. The former — after mentioning that children should consult their parents when they are thinking of getting married — says that children would do better not to consult their parents about their plans to enter religious life or live a celibate life. At first sight this may sound surprising. But the reasons given are that parents have no experience of this type of life and that on certain occasions, parents, for different reasons, turn into avowed enemies of their children's desires and try to prevent their carrying them out.

Parental opposition — in one form or another — to a son's or daughter's vocation is not something exclusive to the Middle Ages. The Document of the Commission for Priestly Formation (UK) already quoted makes the point that

'… most parents ... do not count vocation to the priesthood among the "great expectations." Most would be confused about it: some quite alarmed and anxious: others overtly shocked and antagonistic. There are parents who would openly welcome it -- but they seem to be in the minority...' (p.13).

Similar sentiments are to be found in the 1989 Pastoral Letter Come Follow Me of the Bishops of Ireland on the subject of vocations to the priesthood and religious life:

'There is also diminished parental support for religious and priestly vocation. While many feel very happy if one of their children wants to become a priest or religious, others would not support such a choice ... Vocations to the priesthood and religious life are often discouraged by parents, and huge obstacles are put in the way of young people thinking of this way of life ... There are sacrifices for parents in the vocations of their children: their sons or daughters take on a way of life often not understood in the family. Parents themselves will miss the joy of grandchildren.'

Recently, in a country with a long Catholic tradition, it was made public that only twelve per cent of the parents of those in preparation for the priesthood were glad of their sons' decision to become priests.

There could be many reasons for this, and the UK document referred to above mentions a few: ignorance of what it entails; parents' desire for their children to do well in life; insecurity (many parents regard the priesthood as a risk); celibacy (misunderstood and criticised), etc. There may also be a difficulty due to a weak or missing faith in those most involved. The problem is a real one, and the de-Christianization of society has not brought a solution any closer. It is also an ancient one. St Patrick writing of early Irish vocations commented that 'their fathers disapprove of them, so they often suffer persecution and unfair abuse from their parents; yet their number goes on increasing.'

Finally, some words from Monsignor Escrivá (in Conversations, 104) complement those quoted earlier.

[The] decisions that determine the course of an entire life have to be taken by each person individually, freely, without force or pressure of any kind ... it is clear that they should be taken calmly, without rushing into it. Such decisions should be particularly responsible and prudent. And part of prudence consists precisely in seeking advice ... of other people, and especially of one's parents'.

3.15 Cardinal Hume's 1981 guidelines

In 1981 Cardinal Basil Hume, Archbishop of Westminster, published some 'recommendations for the future activity of its members within the diocese of Westminster.' To his credit, the author records them in full and without editing on pages 164-5. But he also asserts that they are 'contrary ... to Opus Dei attitudes and practices', on evidence that, on examination, does not support his thesis, or is irrelevant to it.

The circumstances in which these recommendations were made is relevant and worth recording before proceeding. There was a considerable campaign being waged against Opus Dei in the United Kingdom at the time, and the Cardinal, in consultation with the Opus Dei authorities in Britain, wished to clarify things publicly. Furthermore Opus Dei had not yet been established as a personal prelature, and the new Code of Canon Law was still two years away.

The first recommendation was that the minimum age of joining should be 18 years. As explained above, the recommendation is in line with what was later specified in the Statutes of the prelature, where temporary commitments can be made at 18 years at the earliest, and life-long commitments not before 23 years. 18 years is also the age that the new Code would specify for 'attaining majority' when one has the full exercise of personal rights (Canons 97 & 98).

The second recommendation reads: 'It is essential that young people who wish to join Opus Dei should first discuss the matter with their parents or legal guardians. If there are, by exception, good reasons for not approaching their families, these reasons should, in every case, be discussed with the local bishop or his delegate.' For a discussion of this area, see above, section 3.14.

The third recommendation is about freedom to join or leave the organisation, and freedom to choose one's spiritual director whether or not the director is a member. Michael Walsh asserts that, contrary to one aspect of this recommendation, people are not free to leave, and devotes several pages (166 and following) to try to prove his point, citing personal accounts. But one of these 'seems to verge at times on the paranoid' and is 'difficult to believe' (Michael Walsh's own words, p.166). Another two are about difficulties, not of leaving, but of staying in: 'No attempt was made to prevent (a named person) herself from leaving Opus': in fact, she claims she was 'fired' out; and another woman claims to have been 'dismissed' (p.166).

Following further accounts along the same lines which likewise do not support his thesis or even support an opposite thesis, the author eventually concedes that obstacles to leaving 'are perhaps not the real problem' after all (p.169). What are, then? 'The real problems are spiritual and psychological.' Does he mean that people who take serious decisions about deeper aspects of their lives and subsequently change their minds normally take time to adjust, and experience a mixture of emotions? Well no, not really. The 'spiritual and psychological' problems Mr Walsh has in mind are of another kind, and come about because Opus Dei sees itself as the 'the one sure hope of salvation' (p.170). He then goes off to develop this theory, using the 'evidence' discussed above (section 3.12), and thereby leaves the content of Cardinal Hume's third recommendation far behind, apparently forgotten.

Cardinal Hume's final recommendation is that activities of Opus Dei in the diocese of Westminster should carry a clear indication of their sponsorship and management. The author reports finding one example allegedly contrary to this recommendation, namely an annual report of the Netherhall Educational Association which does not mention that it controls various buildings used as Opus Dei centres in addition to Netherhall House itself.

The 1986 Annual Report does list the buildings and centres which NEA owns and operates. It reports at some length on the various activities held at those centres. It is true that the in the section dealing with the spiritual and religious activities no mention is made of Opus Dei as responsible for these, the centres being corporate apostolates of Opus Dei. This omission may have been an oversight, but Mr Walsh himself has overlooked a complicating fact which at least partly explains it: namely that the Prelature does not own the buildings in which corporate activities of Opus Dei are run (see Chapter 4 of What is Opus Dei? for further details on this aspect of corporateworks of apostolate). In any case, the precise nature of the relationship between a centre of Opus Dei, on the one hand, and the company or trust which owns the building in which it operates, on the other, is fully documented and easily available.

Regarding activites organised in centres of Opus Dei, every brochure will habitually state Opus Dei's role, and certainly general brochures about the nature and aims of the centre will always explain it. (Why else produce the brochure?) As an example, there must be very few people who have heard about Netherhall House who do not also know that it is a corporate apostolic initiative of Opus Dei, among other reasons because printed information about it will invariably explain this. In any case if, as Mr Walsh implies, the Netherhal Educational Association really were shy