Sources of Definitions in Living Eremitical Life

[[Hi Sister, where do definitions come from in living eremitical life? When I read some words or look them up in the dictionary I am surprised that you don't seem to use the words in the exact sense the dictionary provides. Why is that? I am sure that some say that you are making things up or setting precedents or things like that, but is that the truth? Where do definitions come from? Thanks!]]

What a really terrific question, and one that applies to more than eremitical life! In some ways, I can answer it and in other ways, I will find it difficult to answer simply. So let me give it a shot. 

I think I should comment on the nature of dictionary definitions first of all. When you or I use a general dictionary to find out the meaning(s) of a word, it is important to remember that the meanings provided are descriptive. That is, general dictionaries describe the way most people use the term at a certain time in history. If we want to use the term in the way most folks understand it, we will adopt the dictionary meaning, at least as a starting point. This basic meaning provides a kind of doorway or means of entrance into understanding the multifaceted way this term with all of its depths and nuances applies in our world. Remember, we live reality not words. Words are attempts to name or otherwise articulate our experiences of reality. The meaning provided is not necessarily the whole and complete meaning of the term, nor are general dictionaries prescriptive of the word's sense --- meaning they do not prescribe in a constraining way how a word must be used. Understanding words means learning to apply and reapply them as we evaluate and re-evaluate the sense we began with in light of broader and deeper experiences. This is the way we grow in genuine understanding and expertise.

 

To see good examples of the point about general dictionaries not being prescriptive above, check out some really important religious words and look them up in a general dictionary. For instance, look up God or humility. When you look up God you might find "the supreme being" as a definition, for example. Again, that's a starting place, but if you speak with a Christian theologian you are apt to find them speaking against this definition as inaccurate and pastorally doubtful --- even destructive. They will see it as limiting and denigrating God's transcendence. God is not A being, not even the highest or most supreme being. God is being itself and the ground and source of all that "exists", that is, all that stands up (-istere) out of (-ex) being itself, but he is not A being among other beings. 

Or consider the dictionary definition of humility. It sometimes includes, " having a low self-regard or sense of unworthiness." But common as this is, Christian spirituality defines humility as a form of loving truthfulness regarding who one is in light of God's love and regard for one. Mary's Magnificat in the Gospel of Luke is a paean of genuine humility because she accepts herself as one regarded by God and thus, sees herself as glorifying God. Generally speaking, if one is important or one's life is significant in some way, then humility itself will imply being honest about these things. In these examples, the dictionary meaning leads us astray if we really want to understand the meaning of either God or humility.

We begin with a dictionary definition (as we might as an elementary school student) and then we add experience, both our own and that of those whose study and expertise is greater than our own. Eventually, as we live our lives we observe and reflect on reality. All of this will involve and  affect the way we understand and use language. So, for instance, I might have read the definition of "hermit" in the fourth grade and discovered the dictionary definition: a person who lives in seclusion. If I then looked up "seclusion," I would have found that according to the dictionary, it means "the state of being private and away from people." Only later after study and experience do I come to understand a hermit is a desert dweller, or that the desert is understood as a place of significant dependence and encounter with God and with the demonic. In the same way, let's say I learn that a better word than seclusion is solitude and that for Christian hermits this solitude is not absolute but qualified. It is rather about being alone with God. At some point, I might also learn that a key value of eremitical life is hospitality or that despite the fourth-grade definition I learned, the Catholic Church has a public eremitical vocation that is consecrated and commissioned for the sake of the entire Church and world. You can see how the terms come to change meanings or at least are increasingly nuanced through all of this.

With the experience of aloneness, isolation, and solitude in several contexts (including chronic illness, bereavement, etc.), and greater reflection on those experiences (say, some years living as a hermit or a contemplative nun), I might come to understand that while both involve forms of aloneness, solitude is very different than isolation; beyond that, I might compare the two experiences and conclude that solitude is the redemption of isolation. I might discover that when God loves us our isolation is redeemed and we discover the reality of solitude. As I share my experience with others, including other hermits, spiritual directors, religious, theologians, and scholars, we may draw further conclusions about what is a very basic vocabulary for each of us. Sometimes these conversations will call us back to the most fundamental meanings of the words or realities we are discussing, and sometimes they will expand these meanings --- as happens when silence and solitude are combined in the new term, "the silence of solitude." What is critical is that in the language that defines our lives and about which we care very much, we do not stop listening, learning, or reflecting -- not just about single words but about the life vision or project they are meant to help us understand.

When you ask where meanings come from then, I would say experience (lots more needs to be said about this), consultation (including with other hermits and religious), education (including vocabulary building!), prayer, and other reflection.  Most particularly I spend a lot of time with c 603, histories of anchorites and hermits, and notions of the various central elements of canon 603 as they are lived by others the Church recognizes as hermits. I also listen to other religious who live and reflect on significant degrees of silence, solitude, assiduous prayer and penance, the evangelical counsels, stricter separation from the world, the ministry of authority, spiritual direction, the relation of solitude to communion, etc. I pay attention to what is healthy and appropriately challenging for me in living these various values, and, therefore, what they ask for from me. This is particularly so when they are combined in a recognizable lifestyle I am commissioned to live faithfully. 

It is this lifestyle I try to express in and live according to a Rule of Life that has been examined by Bishops, canon lawyers, other monastics, spiritual directors, and delegates, and approved as potentially helpful in living eremitical life. Over time, I will continue to learn more and more about desert living and the life characterized by the silence of solitude, particularly in the 21st Century. At the same time, my vocabulary will grow wider, deeper, more nuanced, and better capable of describing my experience and understanding. Sometimes this means I will reject the initial or common sense meaning of terms I use and first gleaned from a general dictionary; most times it will simply demonstrate the paucity of the original meaning and underscore its place as a starting point and continuing touchstone for meaningful exploration of profound realities, including the Mystery we know as God, that are richer than I ever imagined or could have imagined.