Diocesan Hermit: a Risky Commitment?

[[Dear Sister Laurel, I have wondered before - and have read a lot of your material which relates to [the question of] just why you would choose to put yourself under obedience to a bishop - since being a lay hermit wouldn't require that. From my perspective it was a very radical choice at a time in modern church history when it seems particularly risky. Don't you find it so yourself? Do you have a Bishop you see eye to eye with?]]

Thanks for the comment and questions. I have written about this a lot in the past, as you are clearly aware, but given all the things that are happening in the Church and news in the past weeks, especially regarding women religious, women theologians (or theologians more generally) there is no doubt that questions regarding my own relationship to the institutional church, especially to my diocese and local Bishop are raised afresh or with more urgency than at other times. As I prepare for an annual meeting with my Bishop precisely at a time when I stand with the women of the LCWR or reflect on my own vocation as a theologian, the question surfaces in my own mind as well --- not so much as one prompted by doubt about the wisdom of my vocational commitment, but as one which I personally must answer afresh for myself.

Your related comments about lay hermits are also well taken and, as I have written before, one of the responses one sometimes gets from lay hermits regarding the question of seeking canonical standing is that canonical standing binds the hermit too closely to the institution and curtails the freedom typical of the eremitical life. One has only to recall the example of the desert Fathers and Mothers who moved to the desert to disassociate themselves from an institutional Church they felt had compromised itself because of its Constantinian ties to the world of power, politics, and pressure. It is a valid answer for some, even relatively many of those embracing eremitical life, but not for me.

I don't want to repeat everything I have said here before except to recall that solitary life is about relatedness, first of all to God and to the proclamation that God alone is sufficient for us, and then to all that (he) regards as precious --- God's people, God's world, God's Church, etc. It is a mistake to think of a hermit as someone who lives in a sort of isolated splendor or that our lives are marked (or marred!) by alienation of whatever sort. Hermits are hermits because they are loved and love in return. The very word solitude in the Christian eremitical tradition does not simply mean being alone, but rather being alone with God and for the sake of others. The silence of solitude embraced by the hermit is not the mere absence of sound; it is the silence which occurs when one exists with and in the love of another --- the silence of completion, the quies of shalom, the hesychasm resulting from being exhaustively known and wholly accepted and regarded as precious. It is the silence of two friends sitting quietly together in grateful presence each for the other and the God (and others) that made this friendship possible.

As a hermit I am not silent (or solitary) for instance, because woundedness and pain have rendered me mute and cut off from others, but because silence and solitude are the accompaniment and context for profound speech and articulateness. Silence is part of the music of being loved completely by God; it is a piece of allowing the separate notes of one's life to sound fully, but also to be connected to one another so that noise is transformed into a composition worthy of being heard and powerful and true enough to be inspiring to others. It is an empowered silence and solitude, the silence of solitude, which finds its source in God's love and reflects relatedness to God and others at its very core. Something similar could be said of all of the elements which comprise the life described in Canon 603. The eremitical life, especially in its freedom, is one of relatedness and love in all of its dimensions.

For me, because I want to live this fully and witness to it with my life, this has meant responding to an ecclesial vocation, a call specifically and concretely mediated to me by the Church and for which I am therefore answerable in specific and concrete ways. We have all done something similar in agreeing to baptism --- though I wonder sometimes if the average person in the pew understands well enough that gifts oblige us to act out of our giftedness, and that a gift which recreates us completely requires the corresponding gift of our whole selves. Eremitical life, especially solitary eremitical life, is simply too difficult, too rare, too fragile and too threatened by the world around it as well as by dimensions of the hermit's own inner world to live without concrete limits, mediating structures, formal relationships, concrete expectations, and avenues for sharing. At the same time it is a rich and fruitful life because of its close and dedicated relationship with God; Hermits stand at the heart of the Church and say something about this rich identity but they therefore do not do so in some merely abstract way. Because of this too they require concrete limits, mediating structures, formal relationships, concrete expectations on the part of their brothers and sisters, and avenues for sharing.

I think most solitary hermits (lay or consecrated) who embrace such a life because they feel God has called them to do so belong to a parish community which supports them in their life. (Religious hermits live as part of a community which functions similarly.) Most have spiritual directors and confessors who assist them and help them be accountable for their life. For me, however, it was not simply that I felt called to live as a hermit; it was that I felt called to represent a specific vocational tradition in the church --- a tradition which I felt was very important and even redemptive especially with regard to certain segments of the population --- and which therefore could represent not only continuity with the desert Fathers/Mothers and the whole history of eremitical life, but which could suggest new instances and "applications" of it. To do this meant not only the requisite experience, theological education, and sensibilities but, again, an ecclesial vocation which was supervised, inspired, and rendered accountable by the Church in some formal and concrete way.

Regarding my vow of obedience. It is not primarily to my Bishop nor, by extension, to my delegate, but to God. Of course, this does not mean that I do not owe either my Bishop or others he delegates my obedience, but merely that they are a part --- a significant one, but a part nonetheless -- of my discerning how God is speaking to me and what he is calling for from me. It is true that because I don't belong to a congregation and, except for my delegate who can and would speak for me, I have no legitimate superior between myself and the Bishop it can sometimes seem a bit "risky." What if we disagree on something central to my life, for instance? What happens then?

My own sense of obedience means attentive listening first of all and honest and open discussion as needed to assist my discernment. I listen carefully to my Bishop, and (fortunately for me) my experience is that he listens carefully to me. He asks good questions, gives me time to answer completely, allows me to ask him questions, and answers himself. As you will have read, we meet only annually (more frequently if I need something) and in the meantime I meet with my delegate. Should something happen which has either myself or my Bishop concerned and needing to talk about it, or if he should himself require more information or assistance, my delegate is there to serve in that way as well.

No, my Bishop and I probably don't "see eye to eye" on a few things (I am not speaking of doctrinal matters here nor of our vision of the eremitical life), but we are also bound in a canonical relationship because of two distinct but related ecclesial vocations which the Church has recognized and affirmed, as well as because of the related commitments which we have made and she has accepted. We both love Christ and Christ's Church and care that the eremitical life is lived with integrity and faithfulness. At the risk of sounding self-serving, I trust and desire to trust that with the help of the Holy Spirit and for these overarching reasons we will both continue to act attentively and responsibly, as well as with charity and respect for one another in this common project. I have hope then that what risk there is is worth it --- particularly for this vocation and for the Church as a whole. I suspect that in this I am not much different from anyone with public vows.