I have a deep personal commitment both to family and to religion. The family has always been for me a source of love, joy, and pleasure, as well as, on occasion, frustration and anger. If at times it has threatened to stifle me in its warm embrace, it has also made possible my pursuit of a wide range of activities, secure in knowledge that there would be people around who would care for my wounds, even if they wouldn't or couldn't catch me before I fell. Thus, I feel with Urie Bronfenbrenner that the relationships in families are juice of life, longings and frustrations and intense loyalties. We get our strength from those relationships, we enjoy them, even painful ones. Of course, we also get some of our problems from them, but power to survive those problems comes from family, too. (Bronfenbrenner, 1977, p. 47). I find also that despite many doubts and crises of faith, I continue to have a religious orientation to life, even a somewhat institutionalized one. I am certainly not same kind of Catholic I was 20 or 30 years ago, nor is Church same. (I include laity in meaning of concept Church.) While I am not optimistic about future of institutional Church, I am sympathetic to its plight. It still seems to be caught in kind of no-win situation so aptly described by Demerath and Hammond 10 years ago (1969). It will be damned if it does attempt to adapt to changing situations, and damned if it doesn't. Demerath and Hammond went on to say that radical changes are difficult to agree upon. They produce short-run discomforts with no long-run guarantees (1969: 171).1 These discomforts (over issues of contraception, abortion and divorce for example) have slowly developed into what may well be an irreconcilable gap between traditional theology espoused by