Miscellaneous on Community, Technology, and the Paradox of Eremitical Solitude

 I wrote recently that one of the conceptions of eremitical life I have found in some is both limited and one-dimensional. That view of eremitism focused on the aloneness of the hermit with no room for lauras, community (including parish) support, and so forth. In this person's view, to be a true hermit, one had to be entirely alone so if two hermits shared a large house where they mainly each did their own thing alone and drove to Mass together, or ate a meal together once or twice a week, or even came together once or twice a day to pray some hour of the Divine Office, for example, that could not be considered eremitical solitude and the two persons would not be true hermits.  Even the Carthusians were not considered, "true hermits," but rather "quasi hermits" --- "that is, apparent, but not real hermits." Imagine calling the Carthusians "quasi hermits" rather than considering that perhaps eremitical solitude, while defined in terms of physical aloneness, is a richer reality than one has thought! 

At the same time, from several different sources recently I have seen a richer, often paradoxical sense of genuine eremitism, and particularly eremitical solitude. These sources include the Carmelites whose Feast day was this week, especially the writings of Ruth Burrows in Carmel and The Essence of Prayer, but also the lived example of the Carmel of Reno which has fully embraced technology to work with Carmelites from around the world and produce Nada Te Turbe; it includes a book a couple of us are using to help with the discernment and formation process of another new diocesan hermit: Solitude and Communion ed A. M. Allchin,  the spirituality of the Camaldolese who speak of living alone together, The Privilege of Love, and the work of Cornelius Wencel, Er Cam in, The Eremitic Life. In each and all of these sources, solitude is a covenantal reality that both implies and empowers community. Eremitical solitude that did not do this in some real sense within a Christian context would more rightly be termed isolation.

The Varying Shapes of the Silence of Solitude:

Canon 603 hermits are bound to live what the canon and Carthusian tradition calls, the silence of solitude. it is therefore critically important that the candidate for profession under c 603 understands what this term means, not only in its most obvious and superficial sense but in its more profound and richer constellation of senses.  At its most fundamental, solitude means being alone with, in, and for God. Eremitical life defines itself in terms of this dynamic. The silence of that solitude means, first of all, the relative (not absolute) absence of external noise or sound. As we progress to deeper senses of the term we begin to see that these forms of silence imply as goal, an inner state of quies constituted and occasioned by love, resulting in personal healing, and sanctification. At this deeper level we meet significant paradoxes. The hermit involved is made a divinely inspired word event and the silence of solitude can take the form of song, prayer, praise, silence, struggle, tears (all sorts), laughter, grief, and joy, for instance.

As the silence of this "silence of solitude" changes and reveals itself in various forms, so too does the solitude at its heart. Because it begins not merely with being alone, but in being alone with God, and more, because human beings are only fully persons and fully personal to the extent they are interpersonal or related beings, so too is the solitude the hermit pursues a matter of communion and community. Still, it is a paradoxical form of these so that eremitical solitude implies not merely being alone, but being alone in and with, or, as Camaldolese like to say, "being alone together." Sometimes this being alone together involves the communion constituted by prayer, particularly in its intercessory form. Most times it involves the deep awareness we have of those who have supported and loved us throughout our lives, all those without whom we could not be the persons God has called us to be. Often it involves us in the communion of author to reader (as in lectio), or the communion of all believers (as in liturgy), but always it is a mediated reality through God who is the ground and source of all creation.

The Place of Technology and Communion in Solitude:

One of the ways this communion-in-solitude or solitude-as-communion is intensified and made more concrete is through the use of technology.  Here the paradox of being alone and in relation with or to others is incarnated via ZOOM, Google Hangouts, Skype, etc. We saw this, especially in the virtual choir project undertaken by the Carmelites throughout the world. Think of all the individual thumbnail pictures of solitary Sisters singing their own parts alone into a microphone and computer with the whole world of other Carmelites in mind and the potential for a communal project that eventuates in the virtual choir of Nada Te Turbe. Beyond revealing a deep interconnectedness between Carmels and many individual Sisters, this technologically-accomplished project also created even deeper, broader, and more intense communion (community) with a broader audience --- and in ways that did not threaten but heightened solitude at the same time.

People already present to us in our hearts and minds assume a new kind of presence via computer. In one sense we could say we were alone before the computer session and during it we are no longer alone, but in another sense, we can say we were alone in both situations and in either we were also with someone though in different modes. One non-canonical hermit I am aware of speaks of the authors of the books she reads as "friends". While some might scoff and contend this is some sort of psychological defense against serious loneliness or isolation, I think the truth may and certainly can also cut in a different direction, namely, towards an indispensable and more generous sense of presence and interrelatedness. Meanwhile, some authors approach this from the opposite direction and speak of their readers bringing an indefinable something to them in the reading of their works. (I read this this week as well, but can't remember quite where!) Again, appreciating this assertion will require a more generous sense of presence and interrelatedness or communion as integral to even eremitical solitude.

Peter Damian's Dominus Vobiscum

Dom Andre Louf, exploring Peter Damian's famous letter (Dominus Vobiscum) in the paper "Solitudo Pluralis" (Solitude and Communion, Papers on the Hermit Life, ed A.M. Allchin) writes about the "community implications of a Christian vocation to solitude," --- the more generous sense of presence and interrelatedness or communion described above. A hermit had written St Peter Damian with the question, "Does a hermit celebrating the Office in solitude have a right to pronounce, Dominus Vobiscum, 'The Lord be with you,' or not? If he has that right, then why is that so?" Peter Damian's answer was straightforward: not only can the hermit pray in this way, but s/he must do so and for two reasons. First, because the words are obligatory, and second, because they express a deep truth of the hermit's life: even when alone the solitary is never truly alone. [[By the adhesive of love (caritatis glutinum), the solitary is united with all his brothers and sisters; he is always with others, his solitude is in some way necessarily corporate.]] (Allchin, 17) 

Thus too, in prayer, a strictly solitary action is no longer possible. (Louf/Damian) What the solitary celebrates alone has repercussions for the entire church. Indeed, it is all of this that causes Peter Damian to call the hermit a "little church!" Damian further explains that whatever is done by any single or individual member of the faithful should be regarded as being done by the whole church joined together in the unity of faith. (By the way, when I write here about the ecclesial vocation of the canonical hermit, or speak of the hermit revealing the church's heart to herself, this is one of the characteristics implied with the word ecclesial only now associated with the idea of normativity and commissioning by the church. Because the c 603 vocation is canonical (normative) it represents the entire church in a normative way and the gift the hermit is and strives to be to the church. It is what the Church specifically commissions such a hermit to be and looks to in a normative way. This is the specifically authorized way of being a solitary hermit that the Church describes as "living an eremitical life in the name of the Church.")

Once again, Solitude vs Isolation:

All of this underscores why I found a particular notion of eremitical life to be limited and one-dimensional this last week, and also part of the reason I am really sensitive to folks who suggest eremitical solitude is another term for isolation, or who have no tolerance for hermits who live in a lavra, or who call Carthusians "quasi hermits," and the like; (Carthusians are true hermits, and the context within which they live eremitism is communal. Thus the term used for them is semi-eremitical). The history of authentic eremitism in the Church has always had a communal dimension to it. Whenever it is healthy it always will.  The Camaldolese, Carmelites, Carthusians, Franciscans  Benedictines, and many others know this and have known it --- sometimes for centuries. Hundreds of c 603 hermits have known and modeled it over the past 4 decades. What every Catholic hermit says with his/her life is that eremitical solitude is a form of covenantal reality that represents the redemption of isolation, while (and this may truly surprise some) isolation can and often does represent a degradation of authentic solitude.