Questions on Priests Transitioning to Eremitical Life Under c 603

[[Sister Laurel, how common is it for dioceses to profess diocesan priests as hermits? Are they expected to go through the same process of discernment and formation as anyone else, or are they given a kind of special entre to profession/consecration because of their priestly vows? (I am thinking here of a kind of shortcut or abbreviated profession like adding a vow of "simplicity" to the vows already made as a priest.) If you were looking at a priest candidate for c 603 profession what would you be looking for? Thanks]]

Thanks for the questions. I have omitted the questions on a particular priest and diocese for the moment. I believe the case you raise is significant and I will try to answer your questions, but I wanted to go with these more general questions first. It is always tragic when there is a disedifying use of (or refusal to use) c 603 by bishops who really may not understand either the canon, its history, or solitary eremitical life itself, particularly when they use it to shoehorn someone into this vocational option despite their manifest lack of suitability, preparation, and discernment, but it does happen. So, let me answer the above questions first, at least until I have done what I can to ascertain the facts in the specific case you raised. Some of these repeat responses I have given others in the past so be sure and check past posts as well.

It is not common for dioceses to profess secular priests, especially younger ones, under canon 603. There are several reasons. First, during seminary training a significant program of pastoral work and discernment is undertaken. By the time one reaches the point of readiness for ordination everyone is pretty clear that the young man is called to an active apostolate whether or not he has a contemplative bent or not.  in light of this there must be really significant signs of a different vocation to change the young priest's heart and mind on the matter and those of his bishop, et al; this will take a similarly significant time to reveal itself and even then all kinds of steps will be taken to help ease the young priest's dis-ease with his parish assignments. 

After all the time, energy, and expense, spent in the original discernment and formation processes no prudent bishop or priest is going to jump (or allow a priest to jump) into life as a hermit, much less profession and consecration under c 603, nor should the Office of Consecrated Life allow a precipitous move from active priestly ministry to consecrated eremitical life. It is not fair to anyone involved in such a case, nor is it an appropriate use of the canon. Moreover, it is offensive to dioceses and diocesan hermits who have spent the requisite time and energy in truly discerning hundreds of such vocations since the canon was published in 1983 --- just as it is unjust and offensive to those who petitioned in good faith for admission to profession and consecration and, for whatever good reasons, were eventually refused.

Generally speaking, then, yes, a priest candidate will undergo the same formation and discernment process as anyone else in preparation for admission to a life of the evangelical counsels lived in the silence of solitude. After all, as I have pointed out a number of times over the years, this is a uniquely significant and rare vocation, and very few, relatively speaking, are called to human wholeness and holiness in such a vocation. It deserves care and attentiveness by all concerned. Secular priests with promises of obedience to their bishops will need to prepare for a vow of religious obedience to God in the hands of their bishops and anyone the bishop delegates to serve in this way. Similarly c 603 requires profession of the Evangelical Counsels including religious poverty and chastity in celibacy. In my understanding of these vows they are richer, grounded differently in different realities, and thus require a different preparation than do, for instance, the commitment to the discipline of celibacy or a life given over to some form of "simplicity". 

If you are asking whether a vow of religious poverty could simply be added to the commitments of celibacy and obedience made by secular (diocesan) priests, my sense is no, canon 603 and the Rite of Religious Profession used for Canon 603 professions require public vows (or other sacred bonds) made to God of the Evangelical Counsels. These are not identical to the commitments (promises) made by secular priests to their bishops. Remember that the three evangelical counsels together make up the lion's share of an organic profession or self-gift to God; they must be similarly grounded in a love which demands that God and God's Kingdom be primary in matters of wealth, relationships, and power (thus, religious poverty, chastity in celibacy, and religious obedience).  Also, it is important to remember that profession itself is a broader act than the making of vows, as central as vows may be to the act of profession. This means that one does not reduce it to the making of vows and certainly not to an act in which one adds a single vow to other varying commitments; profession is an exhaustive and  ecclesial act of self-gift which, when definitive (or perpetual), will also include God's consecration of the person.

You ask what I would be looking for as I assessed a priest candidate for c 603 consecration. In light of what I have already said, I would be looking for a contemplative who had been successful in his active ministry as a parish priest but who had developed as a contemplative over a period of years. I would look for someone who, again for a period of years (at least 7-10), had developed a life given over to substantial silence and solitude and who had discovered an undeniable call to eremitical life rooted at every point in the charism of what c 603 calls "the silence of solitude". 

I would look for a priest who had worked with a spiritual director regularly and over a period of years to develop a life of prayer nourished in this context and always calling him back to it in ways which led everyone who knew him to recognize a potential hermit -- not because he could not live his priestly vocation and active ministry, but because these things had absolutely required what is for him this form of deeper love and were ultimately fulfilled and perhaps transcended in it. (For any hermit engaged in limited ministry I would always look for the ministry to be rooted in the silence of solitude and lead the hermit back to it in an integral way; the silence of solitude always needs to be primary and the lifestyle contemplative. A "hermitage" is not merely a base of operations from which to launch an essentially active lifestyle, nor is it to be used as a way of controlling (or appeasing) problematical priests who simply "don't fit" in parish ministry or the diocesan culture. 

Despite, or maybe precisely because a hermit's life is characterized by its "stricter separation from the world" (which does not merely refer to the world outside the hermitage per se), hermitages are not escapist; they are a paradoxical and profoundly loving way of engaging in and on behalf of the life of the diocese and parish. I would argue that priests who may ultimately discern with the church that they are being called to life under c 603 must demonstrate a long history of loving both parish and diocesan life while struggling to love it more deeply from a contemplative perspective. 

Thus, I would look for a priest whose greatest success in his vocation to a priestly apostolate was the evolution of his love of God, self, and others into the solitude of authentic eremitical life, not into some ideological excuse or individualistic isolation. After all, his very life in the silence of solitude must itself be a prayer; it must itself be a ministry --- indeed, the hermit's primary ministry and the ground and source of any other limited ministry. It must be a witness to all but especially to the marginalized left isolated by life's circumstances that such life can be redeemed by God's love and transformed into the wholeness, personal quies, and communion hermits know as "the silence of solitude". It ordinarily takes careful and long discernment and formation to be sure enough of such a vocation to admit one to consecration under c 603; for priests already publicly called and ordained to an active apostolate at least as great care should be taken as for any other candidate for consecration.

Feast of Saint Romuald (Reprise)

 

Romuald Receives the Gift of Tears,
Br Emmaus O'Herlihy, OSB (Glenstal)

Congratulations to all Camaldolese and Prayers! Tomorrow, June 19th is the the feast day of the founder of the Camaldolese Congregations! We remember the anniversary of solemn profession of many Camaldolese as well as the birthday of the Prior of New Camaldoli, Dom Cyprian Consiglio.

Ego Vobis, Vos Mihi: "I am yours, you are mine"

Saint Romuald has a special place in my heart for two reasons. First he went around Italy bringing isolated hermits together or at least under the Rule of Benedict --- something I found personally to resonate with my own need to seek canonical standing and to subsume my personal Rule of Life under a larger, more profound, and living tradition or Rule; secondly, he gave us a form of eremitical life which is uniquely suited to the diocesan hermit. St Romuald's unique gift (charism) to the church involved what is called a "threefold good", that is, the blending of the solitary and communal forms of monastic life (the eremitical and the cenobitical), along with the third good of evangelization or witness -- which literally meant (and means) spending one's life for others in the power and proclamation of the Gospel.

Stillsong Hermitage

So often people (mis)understand the eremitical life as antithetical to communal life, to community itself, and opposed as well to witness or evangelization. As I have noted many times here they mistake individualism and isolation for eremitical solitude. Romuald modeled an eremitism which balances the eremitical call to physical solitude and a  to God alone with community and outreach to the world to proclaim the Gospel. I think this is part of truly understanding the communal and ecclesial dimensions which are always present in true solitude. The Camaldolese vocation is essentially eremitic, but because the solitary dimension or vocation is so clearly rooted in what the Camaldolese call "The Privilege of Love" it therefore naturally has a profound and pervasive communal dimension which inevitably spills out in witness. Michael Downey describes it this way in the introduction to The Privilege of Love:

Theirs is a rich heritage, unique in the Church. This particular form of life makes provision for the deep human need for solitude as well as for the life shared alongside others in pursuit of a noble purpose. But because their life is ordered to a threefold good, the discipline of solitude and the rigors of community living are in no sense isolationist or self-serving. Rather both of these goods are intended to widen the heart in service of the third good: The Camaldolese bears witness to the superabundance of God's love as the self, others, and every living creature are brought into fuller communion in the one love.

Monte Corona Camaldolese

The Benedictine Camaldolese live this by having both cenobitical and eremitical expressions wherein there is a strong component of hospitality. The Monte Corona Camaldolese which are more associated with the reform of Paul Giustiniani have only the eremitical expression which they live in lauras --- much as the Benedictine Camaldolese live the eremitical expression.

In any case, the Benedictine Camaldolese charism and way of life seems to me to be particularly well-suited to the vocation of the diocesan hermit since she is called to live for God alone, but in a way which ALSO specifically calls her to give her life in love and generous service to others, particularly her parish and diocese. While this service and gift of self ordinarily takes the form of solitary prayer which witnesses to the foundational relationship with God we each and all of us share, it may also involve other, though limited, ministry within the parish including limited hospitality --- or even the outreach of a hermit from her hermitage through the vehicle of a blog!

In my experience the Camaldolese accent in my life supports and encourages the fact that even as a hermit (or maybe especially as a hermit!) a diocesan hermit is an integral part of her parish community and is loved and nourished by them just as she loves and nourishes them! As Prior General Bernardino Cozarini, OSB Cam, once described the Holy Hermitage in Tuscany (the house from which all Camaldolese originate in one way and another), "It is a small place. But it opens up to a universal space." Certainly this is true of all Camaldolese houses and it is true of Stillsong Hermitage as a diocesan hermitage as well.

The Privilege of Love

For those wishing to read about the Camaldolese there is a really fine collection of essays on Camaldolese Benedictine Spirituality which was noted above. It is written by OSB Camaldolese monks, nuns and oblates. It is entitled aptly enough, The Privilege of Love and includes topics such as, "Koinonia: The Privilege of Love", "Golden Solitude," "Psychological Investigations and Implications for Living Alone Together," "An Image of the Praying Church: Camaldolese Liturgical Spirituality," "A Wild Bird with God in the Center: The Hermit in Community," and a number of others. It also includes a fine bibliography "for the study of Camaldolese history and spirituality."

Romuald's Brief Rule:

And for those who are not really familiar with Romuald, here is the brief Rule he formulated for monks, nuns, and oblates. It is the only thing we actually have from his own hand and is appropriate for any person seeking an approach to some degree of solitude in their lives or to prayer more generally. ("Psalms" may be translated as "Scripture".)

Sit in your cell as in paradise. Put the whole world behind you and forget it. Watch your thoughts like a good fisherman watching for fish. The path you must follow is in the Psalms — never leave it. If you have just come to the monastery, and in spite of your good will you cannot accomplish what you want, take every opportunity you can to sing the Psalms in your heart and to understand them with your mind. And if your mind wanders as you read, do not give up; hurry back and apply your mind to the words once more. Realize above all that you are in God's presence, and stand there with the attitude of one who stands before the emperor. Empty yourself completely and sit waiting, content with the grace of God, like the chick who tastes and eats nothing but what his mother brings him.

Violence at the Heart of Christianity?

[[Dear Sister, I read a comment on a book that said Jesus' death on the cross represents a sanctioning of violence right at the heart of Christianity. Is that true do you think? I've read several books that suggest that Jesus' death validates violence like in domestic abuse. Is there some way to avoid this conclusion?]]

Thanks for your questions. In the theology of the cross I have presented here over the past years, I hope it is clear that I don't accept that either conclusion is the case. If we were to argue that God wills the torturous death of his Son without nuance or careful delineation then I think the folks making these kinds of comments or drawing these conclusions would be correct, but since I believe we must tease apart what was and what was not the will of God in Jesus' passion and death, and since I believe Jesus' torture was not the will of God but the will and actions of sinful humanity doing their worst, I also believe we can avoid sanctioning violence at the heart of Christianity. Please note that suffering does exist at the heart of Christianity, but it is not the will of God, nor is it some form of punishment for sin; it is instead what is meant to be redeemed and is redeemed as Jesus makes it his own for our sake. My basic point in several posts here has been that what God wills, especially as Jesus prays in discernment in the Garden of Gethsemane, is a life lived with integrity in obedience (openness, responsiveness) to the will of God --- the will to fullness of life and love mediated through Jesus' vocation as "a man for others".

What is especially redemptive in Jesus' suffering and death in light of the violence which does seem to stand right at the heart of God's battle with sin and evil, is the fact that God in Christ makes these ordinarily isolating and shameful realities his own and in doing so transforms them from places of degradation and shame into potential places of grace and blessing. There is judgment here, but it does not fall on Jesus. Instead, it falls on those who torture and kill him, those in positions of power who diminish and degrade with violence. Because Jesus takes these things on, what were symbols of failure, weakness, and inhumanity become instead symbols (not mere signs!) of the very presence of God and so too, of an incredibly revelatory humanity lived with integrity in communion with God.

Clearly, I believe it is possible to avoid the conclusions you set forth in your questions. Violence is not sanctioned at the heart of Christianity because Christology is about how God deals with the reality of violence and human power structures which torment the helpless and impoverish the weak. God takes human violence on by making it part of his own life; however, God also overturns and condemns it by bringing a victory out of even the worst that humans can and do to one another. In other words, God says no to violence and exploitation as he says an unconditional yes to those who are the victims of such realities, and also to the perpetrators of such violence. God always says no to sin and evil, but God also always says yes to the persons touched by these things.

Solemnity of the Body and Blood of Christ: Celebrating Power Made Perfect in Weakness (Reprise)

 [[Dear Sister, if a person is chronically ill then isn't their illness a sign that "the world" of sin and death are still operating in [i.e., dominating] their lives?  . . . I have always thought that to become a religious one needed to be in good health. Has that also changed with canon 603? I don't mean that someone has to be perfect to become a nun or hermit but shouldn't they at least be in good health? Wouldn't that say more about the "heavenliness" of their vocation than illness? ]] (Concatenation of queries posed in several emails)

As I read these various questions one image kept recurring to me, namely, that of Thomas reaching out to touch the wounds of the risen Christ. I also kept thinking of a line from a homily my pastor (John Kasper, OSFS) gave about 7 years ago which focused on Carravagio's painting of this image; the line was,  "There's Another World in There!" It was taken in part from the artist and writer Jan Richardson's reflections on this painting and on the nature of the Incarnation. Richardson wrote:

[[The gospel writers want to make sure we know that the risen Christ was no ghost, no ethereal spirit. He was flesh and blood. He ate. He still, as Thomas discovered, wore the wounds of crucifixion. That Christ’s flesh remained broken, even in his resurrection, serves as a powerful reminder that his intimate familiarity and solidarity with us, with our human condition, did not end with his death. . . Perhaps that’s what is so striking about Caravaggio’s painting: it stuns us with the awareness of how deeply Christ was, and is, joined with us. The wounds of the risen Christ are not a prison: they are a passage. Thomas’ hand in Christ’s side is not some bizarre, morbid probe: it is a  union, and a reminder that in taking flesh, Christ wed himself to us.]] Living into the Resurrection

Into the Wound, Jan L Richardson

My response then must really begin with a series of questions to you. Are the Risen Christ's wounds a sign that sin and death are still "operating in" him or are they a sign that God has been victorious over these --- and victorious not via an act of force but through one of radical vulnerability and compassion? Are his wounds really a passage to "another world" or are they signs of his bondage to and defeat by the one which contends with him and the Love he represents? Do you believe that our world is at least potentially sacramental or that heaven (eternal life in the sovereign love of God) and this world interpenetrate one another as a result of Jesus' life, death, and resurrection or are they entirely separate from and opposed to one another? Even as I ask these questions I am aware that they may be answered in more than one way. In our own lives too, we may find that the wounds and scars of illness and brokenness witness more to the world of sin and death than they do to that of redemption and eternal life. They may represent a prison more than they represent a passage to another world.

Or not.

When I write about discerning an eremitical vocation and the importance of the critical transition that must be made from being a lone pious person living physical silence and solitude to essentially being a hermit living "the silence of solitude," I am speaking of a person who has moved from the prison of illness to illness as passage to another world through the redemptive grace of God. We cannot empower or accomplish such a transition ourselves. The transfiguration of our lives is the work of God. At the same time, the scars of our lives will remain precisely as an invitation to others to see the power of God at work in our weakness and in God's own kenosis (self-emptying). These scars become Sacraments of God's powerful presence in our lives, vivid witnesses to the One who loves us in our brokenness and yet works continuously to bring life, wholeness, and meaning out of death, brokenness, and absurdity.

To become a hermit (especially to be publicly professed as a Catholic hermit) someone suffering from chronic illness has to have made this transition. Their lives may involve suffering but the suffering has become a sacrament which attests less to itself  (and certainly not to an obsession with pain) but to the God who is a Creator-redeemer God. What you tend to see as an obstacle to living a meaningful, profoundly prophetic, religious or eremitical life seems to me to be a symbol of the heart of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. It also seems to me to remind us of the nature of "heavenliness" in light of the Ascension. Remember that one side of the salvation event we call the Christ is God's descent so that our world may be redeemed and entirely transformed into a new creation. But the other side of this Event is the Ascension where God takes wounded and scarred humanity --- and even death itself --- up into his own life, thus changing the very nature of heaven (the sovereign life of God shared with others) in the process.

Far from being an inadequate witness to "heavenliness" our wounds can be the most perfect witness to God's sovereign life shared with us. Our God has embraced the wounds and scars of the world as his very own and not been demeaned, much less destroyed in the process. Conversely, for Christians, the marks of the crucifixion, as well therefore as our own illnesses, weaknesses and various forms of brokenness, are (or are meant to become) the quintessential symbols of a heaven (life in the very Life of God) which embraces our own lives and world to make them new. When this transformation occurs in the life of a chronically ill individual seeking to live eremitical life it is the difference between a life of one imprisoned in physical isolation, silence, and solitude, to that of one which breathes and sings "the silence of solitude." It is this song, this prayer, this Magnificat that Canon 603 describes so well and consecrated life in all its forms itself represents.

Bowl patched with Gold

We Christians do not hide our woundedness then. We are not ashamed at the way life has marked and marred, bent and broken, spindled and mutilated us. But neither are woundedness or brokenness themselves the things we witness to. Instead it is the Sacrament God has made of our lives, the Love that does justice and makes whole that is the source of our beauty and our boasting. Jan Richardson also reminds us of this truth when she recalls Sue Bender's observations on seeing a mended Japanese bowl. [[“The image of that bowl,” she writes, “made a lasting impression. Instead of trying to hide the flaws, the cracks were emphasized — filled with silver. The bowl was even more precious after it had been mended.”]]  So too with our own lives: as Paul also said, "But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, so that the surpassing power will be of God and not from ourselves."  (2 Cor 4:7) It is the mended cracks, the wounds which were once prisons, the shards of a broken life on their way to being reconstituted entirely by the grace of God which reveal the very presence of heaven to those we meet.