Once Again on C 603 Vocations as Ecclesial Vocations

[[Hi Sister, when you speak of consecrated eremitical life as an ecclesial vocation, are you saying more than that the vocation is lived within the Church? Does this reflect the difference between hermits who are consecrated and those that are not?]]

Thanks for your question. Yes, I am saying that ecclesial vocations imply much more than that these are lived within the Church, though that will also be true. I have written here that such vocations belong to the Church before they belong to an individual called to live them. I have also said that such vocations are edifying to the Church; that is, they build up the Church and are a call to do that. Finally, I have noted that ecclesial vocations call for both clergy and laity to be faithful to their vocations as clergy and People of the faith. The essential meaning of an ecclesial vocation combines these dimensions. It refers to a vocation that builds the Church in a way that lets it truly be the Church God wills it to be, and that does all of this in the name (authority) of the Church.

To be called to an ecclesial vocation means that one embraces this vocation not only because the Church explicitly calls one to do so (note the public call at the beginning of the rite of perpetual profession which symbolizes the culmination of a whole process of mutual discernment by diocesan personnel, mentors working with such personnel, and the candidate herself), but because one is prepared to consciously do so "in the name of the Church". Yes, one lives one's hermit life as part of the Church (as do non-canonical hermits in the Church), but one also does so by the authority of the Church. Because of this explicit authorization, one also accepts the responsibility to "be Church", to pray as the Church is called to pray, to minister in one's solitude, to grow and mature in Christ and the power of the Spirit as is true of the Church and to do so because the Church as Body of Christ has herself called one to do so. The Church entrusts such vocations to some because she believes that only through such vocations can the Church be what God calls it to be. She recognizes that such vocations are an integral part of her own call to holiness.

While c 603, for instance, explicitly provides for flexibility in this vocation, the hermit takes on a meaningful place within a tradition of eremitical life. This does not allow the hermit to make up her life out of whole cloth. She prays as God calls her to, yes, and at the same time, she does so with forms of prayer the Church sets at the center of her life and in an ordered way that reflects the rhythm of prayer that sanctifies the whole of one's life. I believe most non-canonical hermits will do the same in their personal response to God, but not all and not necessarily. 

Unfortunately, some self-designated "hermits" do indeed make up a way of eremitical life without reference to the Church's supervision and vision of it; they embrace prayer lives essentially cut off from the liturgical life of the Church, for instance, and justify it in terms of a theologically, spiritually, psychologically, and historically naive notion of "solitude", among other things. Hermits with an ecclesial vocation cannot and do not cut themselves off from the historical Church, the ecclesia (assembly of "called ones") that exists in space and time. We cannot omit going to Mass (or receiving Communion as an extension of the community's Eucharistic liturgy) regularly, for example, nor can we neatly divide reality up in terms of the spiritual and the temporal and then reject the temporal in the name of the Spirit of God. That would be a betrayal of the Holy Spirit herself. Our Church is a sacramental reality where the spiritual and temporal presuppose and even require one another if the Church is to be what it is called and empowered by God to be, namely, a primordial sacrament where heaven and earth interpenetrate one another in a paradigmatic and yet-proleptic way. 

I believe such "hermits" are exceptions and, as I already noted, most non-canonical hermits live their lives in ways that, of course, also build up the Church even if they do not do this consciously or in the name of the Church. Canonical hermits are meant to do so consciously as part of a public vocation. When I speak of ecclesial vocations, then, I am speaking of those whom the Church herself calls forward in her public liturgy and formally commissions through profession** and consecration to 1) live and build up the life of the Church in a conscious way and 2) to do so in the name (authority) of the Church as solitary hermits under c 603, or alternately, as part of a canonical congregation or community of hermits. It is a specific responsibility given publicly by God through representatives (Bishops) of the Church to some hermits who receive and commit to undertaking this specific commission formally in their acts of profession and their embrace of God's consecration. Let me reiterate once more that it does not make canonical hermits better than non-canonical hermits, but it does say their formal and canonical responsibilities differ from those of non-canonical hermits.

** Despite common misuse of the term, profession is always a public act of the whole church that initiates one into a new state of life. There is actually no such thing as private profession. Because of the misunderstanding of this term, it has also become common to qualify profession as public or private. In this post my use of the term profession always means a public act linked to a new state of life and new canonical rights and obligations.

Followup Questions on What to do if One is Full of Oneself

[[Dear Sister O'Neal, What do you mean when you say [in your last post] we are not to grasp at God but are to be grasped by God? Also, I have heard the idea of emptying our hands in order to be able to have them filled with more before. Why doesn't it go far enough or why isn't it radical enough and what do you mean when you say the truth of [the situation] is paradoxical?]]

Helpful questions. Thank you! The idea of being grasped by God is a way of speaking of the experience that grounds human faith. Paul spoke of this several times, reversing the "human-knowing-first" way we often think of things being ordered. So, for example, he said, [[Not that I have already reached the goal or am already perfect, but I make every effort to take hold of it because I also have been taken hold of by Christ Jesus.]] or [[But now that you know God—or rather are known by God—how is it that you are turning back to those weak and miserable forces? Do you wish to be enslaved by them all over again? (Gal 4:9)]] What Paul demonstrates in these passages and similar ones is twofold, 1) it is very difficult to get away from "me-first" ways of thinking and speaking, even after we have been grasped by God and know that God comes first, and 2) God's activity always has priority in any human movement towards faith or self-emptying. It is not so much that you or I know God, but rather, that we become aware of God already knowing us, and knowing us in the intimate biblical sense that is akin to sexual knowing.

The notion of being grasped by God was made particularly famous by Paul Tillich, a 20th-century Lutheran theologian, when he defined faith as the "state of being grasped by that which is an ultimate (or unconditional) concern" ("Glaube ist das Ergriffensein von dem vas uns unbedingt Angeht"). While this definition is a bit opaque for most of us, it is what Paul is speaking of when he builds on his experience of being grasped or taken hold of by the one who promises to be the answer to our deepest hungers and needs, and specifically for Paul, to the prayers and hopes of the Jewish People and the whole of God's Creation. 

We can begin to get a sense of this state of being grasped when we do something where God can speak to us. For instance, we open the Scriptures and, as we start reading, we may begin to find ourselves intrigued and even a bit excited by what we are hearing. We want to read further, meditate on it, ponder it, and consider the world in light of it. Or, for instance, we hear a sermon on the early Church or Jesus's resurrection, and suddenly we ask ourselves if we believe that, or perhaps we feel some wash of fresh understanding, a flash of curiosity,  the quiet flush of consolation, etc. Those are times, I believe, when God has grasped us and seeks a response to that experience. God looks for us to entrust our lives more fully to him and what we have heard, felt, and otherwise experienced. The way God comes to grasp us does not need to be overtly religious or Scriptural. Maybe for you, it is a passage from a Beethoven symphony, a Rumi poem, or the moment the clouds turn magenta and purple at sunset. Anything dealing with truth, beauty, integrity, futurity, hope, and many other things can be an avenue by which we experience our Creator God taking hold of or grasping us.

Emptying our hands is not analogous to emptying our hearts:

When I wrote that the idea of emptying our hands is helpful as a beginning to understand the dynamics necessary for letting go of being too full of oneself, I said, [[The imagery of emptying our hands so they may hold something else is helpful as a starting point, but it really is not radical enough. The truth is, we don't empty ourselves and then allow God to fill the emptiness. Instead, we allow God to gradually displace whatever it is that takes his place and fills us inappropriately. It is all God's work!]] What this means is that our hearts do not function in the same way our hands do. We do not learn to love, especially God, by emptying our hearts. Loving is not about grasping anything. It is about receiving reality as a gift and so too is "emptying our hearts."

Emptying our hearts of hate (or of anything else that is unworthy of or an obstacle to us, for instance) is only accomplished when someone loves us beyond that hate or obstacle, and we accept this love. We cannot "empty" our hearts except by filling it with something else. We can be so badly personally wounded that our capacity for love is dramatically injured, but again, the answer to this kind of injury is being loved (and healed) beyond it and into fullness. We can embrace a form of selfishness and self-centeredness that, over time, seems to empty our hearts, but our hearts have gradually become filled with self, and the only solution is to allow a love that transcends all of this. Emptying one's hands is simple, and one can ordinarily do this oneself. The human heart is radically different. It is not only made for love, but Love itself dwells in it. It is incapable of ever truly being emptied in the way hands are emptied.

When I spoke about the paradoxical nature of all of this, I was thinking of the way a focus on emptying ourselves of ourselves only makes us the greater center of attention. A heart is emptied only at the moment it is filled with something (or someone) else. If we try to empty ourselves of self, the house, as the Gospels of Luke and Matthew tell us, will be filled with even more unclean spirits, and the situation will be much worse than it was originally. Our salvation from being "full of ourselves" cannot come from ourselves, but only from God and only on God's own terms. It requires we allow God to love us, that we allow God's love to open us to God more and more fully. It means we allow God to displace the unworthy concerns and obsessions of our hearts more and more fully with Godself.  In that way, we come to be our truest selves.

And all of this is paradoxical. Even our yearning for such redemption is the work of God within us. We only hunger for that we have already tasted. Again, though, we are truly selfless only when we love others and accept the true Self, which is God's gift to us and the fruit of God's loving us into truth and wholeness. We do all of this by learning to be aware of and attending to the God who has already grasped and taken up residence within us. 

A Little Girl Tells the Story of Jonah

I posted this about 10 years ago and I think it is wonderful. In case you haven't heard the story of Jonah recently (or even if you have read today's lections) and would like to hear a wonderful dramatic "interpretation" from someone who has clearly thought long and hard about it; give it a listen!! (In this video we hear the first part of the story, where Jonah runs from God's call to go to Nineveh; today's first reading only deals with the second part of the story where Jonah finally goes to Nineveh.)

 

What to do if One is Full of Oneself?

[[Dear Sister, if someone is full of themselves, is there a way they can empty themselves of this tendency? It seems to me to be kind of ironic. What I mean is I know someone who believes that God has asked them to take care to not be so full of themselves and in trying to "empty" themselves of this self-focus, they become even more focused on themselves!! It is really sad to watch!! It also makes me laugh [not because it is funny but] because it almost seems to be impossible to spend time trying to prevent oneself from being too full of oneself without causing the exact opposite thing!! So, is there a way to empty oneself of "being full of oneself"? Because you are a hermit, let me also ask you if this is a harder task for you than it might be if you were living in community or were an active religious? 

You know, these are really good questions (cf Part II below for your second paragraph)! One of the first things that occurs to me is how this kind of struggle or these conundrums are a good indicator of the need for a competent spiritual director. While it is not impossible to be emptied of inordinate self-concern and focus, it takes time and real effort, and one can only do so if one opens oneself discerningly to the world outside oneself and comes to depend on someone else's insight and capacity to reflect back regarding what they are hearing or seeing. If one doesn't have access to a good spiritual director, a good friend can often be helpful in the same way. The one seeking to change needs to be able to truly listen to others who know them and are aware of their flaws as well as their strengths and potential. It seems to me this is the only way to get out of the vicious cycle that otherwise ensues in trying to empty oneself of self. This is a beginning, and for me, I would say it is indispensable.

There is another related elementary principle involved here as well. Namely, the only way to empty ourselves of our false self is to open ourselves to the Creator God who makes real and true. But how we achieve this is important and paradoxical. Granted, we are not supposed to grasp at things. Rather, we are to allow ourselves to be grasped by the Mystery we call God and to not resist this. The imagery of emptying our hands so they may hold something else is helpful as a starting point, but it really is not radical enough. The truth is, we don't empty ourselves and then allow God to fill the emptiness. Instead, we allow God to gradually displace whatever it is that takes his place and fills us inappropriately. It is all God's work! 

There is a story in the Gospels of both Luke and Matthew that illustrates this principle. A man is exorcised, and his house is cleared out, swept clean of an unclean spirit, and left empty for a brief time. The unclean spirit returns to the house, and it is then filled by even more unclean spirits than originally; the man and house are left in even worse shape than at first. Luke's point is that the human heart is meant to be filled with God/Love. It is made for that. What is counterintuitive, perhaps, is that in this case, this is only achieved by allowing God to displace the demons and fill the house (heart) as only God can. This is really all about grace and the salvific action of God, not our own, except to the limited extent that we must refuse to stand in God's way as we let him love and move us as he wills! The basic truth here is that only Love can make space for Love; only God can make room for God.

One's life needs to be focused on others and open to growing in one's love of others. Remember that, while it is focused on God and on living one's own self as fully as one can, even the hermit life is meant to be lived for others. This is important in achieving a life that is not solipsistic or inordinately focused on oneself. While I can't say whether it is harder or easier for someone living in community, it is somewhat different. One example might help: Recently, I was surprised to find myself writing about what is happening to this country and the current political situation. I have not done that in the past. When I explored this with my director, it became clear to me that I was not particularly interested in politics, but I was concerned with the state of this country, its people, and the terrible degree of pain that the administration's apparently careless and blatantly cruel actions were causing and will continue to cause as our democracy continues to be dismantled. 

One person I know (a non-hermit) criticized me for my concern with all of this because it didn't comport with her notion of what hermits are to be about, but I recognized it as an instance of my own growth in compassion. At the same time, it led to a unique intensification of my prayer life in the hermitage and a careful limiting and focusing of my consumption of news. All of these factors led me to conclude that this was what God willed in my life, and I am grateful to be called to this as an integral part of my hermit life. I could have said no to this in the name of an abstract definition of eremitism, but again, it was about saying yes to love and discovering how that, in turn, enhanced and strengthened my life as a diocesan hermit. (This is another place c 603's requirement that the individual hermit writes her own Rule is critical for complementing the constitutive elements of the canon that apply to every such hermit. She must have experienced and be moved by love, and she must be free, within the limitations of her vocation, to risk herself for love.)

Yes, it takes some discerning to be able to negotiate an appropriate degree of reliance on and independence from others, but the only way to become less involved with self or "less full of oneself" is to become more involved with others, and specifically, to become more attentive to and loving of others while allowing them to love us. Jesus was called "The Man for Others," and those of us who want to become an imago Christi are called to the same vocation. I have sometimes heard people suggest that hermits are all about focusing on becoming holy and getting to heaven. As Cornelius Wencel, Er Cam, reminds us, 

[[Not in order to achieve perfection does the hermit set out on his solitary voyage. On the contrary, he considers his way and mission to be part of a great common effort to change and renew the cultural and spiritual life of humanity. . . . So, we can hardly take a hermit for a person who limits his entire mission to a few prayers he recites and some daily routines necessary in everyday life. The hermit has to take into account all the difficult problems endangering the world today. . . . realizing how deeply he is rooted in the life of society and how greatly responsible he should be for the world and its future, the hermit wants to take part in coping with the difficulties and anxieties of today.]] pp 121-122, The Eremitic Life

And yet, even hermits cannot depend on God alone to speak to them in the way a good friend or competent spiritual director can and does. God does not relate to any of us, hermits or not, on that level or in that same way. Yes, God loves us each profoundly and communicates Godself to us intimately. God "speaks" to us in innumerable ways, including through others; occasionally, we may even hear a voice inside our heads/hearts that we can identify as God's own. Still, we all need to learn to listen to and trust 1) another human being whose competency is greater than our own and 2) our own consciences as the voice of God within us and our true selves (as opposed to our false selves). Even so, God is Mystery itself, and intimate though our relationship may be, it is not the same as speaking with another human being. This brings me to your second paragraph's questions.

Part II:

My last questions have to do with asking God about every little step one takes during the day. The person I am asking about is trying to "ask God about every little thing" she is considering doing. She even says she asked God, "May I go to the restroom or. . ." do another trivial task and what his will was in that. While I think that turning to God is important in becoming less full of oneself, this [way of conceiving of that] also seems self-defeating to me. She seems to me to be becoming even more full of herself in this way, but I am not sure I can explain why that is so. Do we only do the will of God by losing our own will? Are we to truly be emptied of ourselves and filled with God? Do you understand what I am asking?]]

The situation you have described of asking permission for every little thing was once the way some religious congregations operated in centuries past. It was abandoned as infantilizing, and rightly so. In those days, the novice or junior religious thought of the commands of the superior as the will of God**, and this asking of permission for every little thing was supposed to form men and women who were attuned to the will of God. Unfortunately, it backfired, and the religious found they were unprepared to make significant decisions for themselves, had badly formed consciences incapable of making prudent conscientious judgments except when told what they "should" do, and were incapable of hearing the will of God apart from the voice of the superior. Given that there is apparently no superior in the situation you describe, this also means that God is being asked to micromanage a person's life; God does not do this!!! This is why God gave us hearts, intellects, consciences, and wills. We are to listen to these, and yes, we are to allow them to be formed and shaped according to God's will. But asking God to tell us whether we should use the restroom or do another task first literally places us back before the days when we were potty trained!!!

What you have described is a literal example of a so-called "spiritual" practice that, despite its intention, infantilizes one!! And what it does to God is similar, for it trivializes Him and His role in our lives. Ironically, it makes things all about us again, and this ties into your original question. If we diminish God in the name of some flawed notion of "seeking his will," we divert attention from the real God and substitute ourselves and our own miniscule conceptions in God's place. We will never truly worship him in such a situation. J.B. Phillip once wrote a classic book called Your God is too Small.  It was seen as a significant and common, even universal, error we make, typical of idolatry in all of its forms. In the case you describe, trivializing God, especially by infantilizing ourselves, makes us the center of the universe, something that always happens unless and until our God is no longer too small and we grow in relation to Him! That means, as you say but could not explain, the person you described is making things all the more about herself. Ostensibly, she claims to be seeking the will of God, but really, it is an elaborate charade (she may not even be aware of this), emptying the real God of His true role in her life and substituting a cosmic micromanager who "speaks to her" as she demands and is comfortable with. As I noted above, God does not speak to us on this level or in this way.

Neither are we asked by God to lose our will, but to allow it to be formed and shaped in communion with the loving will of God. That is what allows Paul, who has been crucified in Christ, to say, "I live, yet not I, but Christ in me." (Gal 2:20). Note the paradox in the sentence as well as the emphasis on personal truth. It is I, yet not I. It is really Paul who is alive, but it is Christ in Paul at the same time. Paul is essentially describing what happens when God has made us truly ourselves and freed us from the false self that once held sway. We become truly alive (and that means with our own will), but we are alive in and through Christ. I think this is a much better way of considering what happens and is meant to happen than thinking we are emptied of ourselves in some way that leaves us only a shell that is then filled with God. God wants a relationship with a person, not a receptacle, and he wants an adult who is capable of adult love, not an infant!

** Today, when a superior asks someone publicly vowed to obedience to do x or y, we still consider this a way God is speaking to us, but not the only way. We discern what this means for us and how we prioritize and will carry it out. If we need to pray over and discuss the matter, we will do that. We do these things not to avoid what is being asked of us but to be sure we have rightly attended to and understood what is being asked of us. Today, we speak of the ministry of authority and recognize that this is rightly exercised with love and should be responded to in the same way. 

Another Look at the Three Pillars of Lenten and Christian Praxis

[[Dear Sister Lauren (sic), a couple of us were talking about Lent and how to approach it this year. (We're students at Saint _____ College so we are beginning to look at Lent in new ways! My friend wants to be a nun but probably not a hermit and reads your blog.) At a college ashes service yesterday we listened to a homily on prayer, fasting, and almsgiving and thought it was pretty good, but we also saw your article speaking about the crisis in the US right now, where you said it was not the time to give up chocolate or let go of some TV program we didn't really need anyway!! So we thought we would take a chance and decided to write you and ask how you choose something to do for Lent. Do you do fasting, prayer, and almsgiving or something else?]]

The Three Pillars of Lenten and Christian Praxis:

Thanks for your questions. Yes, I pray, fast, and give alms, but this may not look exactly like what you are expecting. The three pillars of Lenten practice also tend to be the three pillars of all Christian life, namely,  

1. some form of self-emptying or self-denial that allows us to become aware of and pay appropriate attention to our truest and deepest hungers (fasting), 
2. openness to and reception of the presence and power of God who satisfies those deepest and truest hungers (prayer), and  
3. giving to others something of what we have received in this process (alms or almsgiving). 

As you can see, our Lenten praxis is not about merely doing something extraneous to who we are; it involves choosing to do things that allow us to be our truest or most authentic selves. And, since we are only our truest or most authentic selves with God and within the human community, it first involves finding ways to allow God to be God for and with us. Likewise, because we are also most authentically or truly human in relation to others, and especially in our compassion for and generosity to others, the third pillar of Lenten and Christian praxis has us giving of our time and treasure to them with a careful eye toward what they most need if they are to be the persons God calls them to be. 

Becoming Truly Human:

Lenten praxis (or practice) is always about the things that make or allow us to be truly human, namely our loving relationship with ourselves, with God, and with others. 

1. 
   Fasting (or any kind of self-denial that could go by this name) helps free us from selfishness, self-centeredness, and concern with our own comfort or our fear of (or, less often, our preoccupation with) discomfort and actual suffering. It's a way of opening ourselves so we can receive more freely than we ever can when we are self-centered or fearful. 
2. Prayer opens us to being constituted by and as a dialogue with God (i.e., authentically human life is such a dialogue) that is both challenging and consoling; it helps us affirm that alone we are always incomplete and even inauthentic, while with and in God, however difficult things get, we are never alone and are moving toward fullness of life. Prayer helps us to live our own life more intensely, expansively, and truly as those who are infinitely loved and who, despite our very real weaknesses and incapacities, are called to be God's own counterparts in this world. 
3. Almsgiving reminds us that the ways God loves and gifts us, especially with Himself, are never for our sake alone. Eventually or ultimately, they are meant for others who need such love/gifts as much as we once needed and still need them ourselves. (As with God, we who are images of God are made to be a self gift. The triad of fasting, prayer, and almsgiving constitutes the heart of a continuing dynamic of Divine self-giving, human reception, and human self-giving that defines us as human beings who glorify (reveal) God with our lives.)

On Making Concrete Choices:

So, that's the theological analysis of the pillars of Lenten praxis and all Christian life. It's all really about a cycle of loving and becoming loving so others can enact the same cycle in their own lives. How do we translate that into concrete choices for any given Lenten Season?  

Fasting asks us to identify what prevents us from being aware of God and others. What is it that makes us less able or willing to depend on or be vulnerable to the love of God or of others? What isolates us and tempts us to believe we can go it alone? What allows us to be less conscious of others and the deepest hungers of our own hearts? (This can include some misguided notions of hermit life, by the way.)  So, for instance, what do we fill ourselves (or our lives) with instead of the "food" that comes from God and truly nourishes us? While this could be some form of unhealthy food, it could also be binging on the computer or being a workaholic, or refusing to take our schoolwork seriously. Thus, paradoxically, fasting might mean getting more rest than we ordinarily do or taking better care of ourselves more generally. We can determine how we might fast during Lent when we have identified some of these things.

Prayer asks us to give time and space to God so that he might love us as he desires so profoundly to do. If fasting helps make us vulnerable, prayer is the courageous and generous act that turns that vulnerability over to God to do with whatever he wills. What this mainly means is that we give God a chance to love us into wholeness. We let God be God-With-Us (for God is Love that wills to be Emmanuel), even if we are not necessarily aware of God's presence during this time. I would encourage you to do whatever helps you remain vulnerable during this time. That might include silent prayer with occasional breaks to walk around the room or prayer space, silent prayer followed by a favorite oral prayer (Hail Mary, Glory be, Our Father, a verse of a psalm or the refrain of a favorite hymn (spoken or sung), for instance). You might want to use a lighted candle to help you return to focus when that wavers. If vulnerability like this is difficult, feel free to wrap up in a blanket and imagine God holding you safely and warmly during this prayer time.

Alms or Almsgiving: Whatever fasting and prayer lead you to experience, I would encourage you to spend some time journaling on what these have been for you and anything you have learned, seen, heard, sensed, or imagined because of it. You need not write a lot, and it would be most helpful if you included an expression of gratitude to God. This practice will prepare you to be ever more aware of and able to give to others as mercy and compassion prompt you to. Some things you might not think of that qualify as almsgiving could include calling your parents or other family members more regularly while you are away at school, giving time and attention to someone you don't ordinarily regard adequately, or tutoring another student. You get the idea.

I don't always use the terms fasting and almsgiving, but the things I choose for Lent correspond to the meanings and dynamics I provided above.  My focus is always on personal growth and that means that it involves my relationship with God, with myself, and with others. Sometimes that means focusing on weaknesses and working through those in ways that strengthen or heal me, other times it means focusing more on potentialities that need to be more fully realized or talents and gifts that are to be used for the larger Church or my immediate faith community. Of course, I have a Rule of Life I live and try to live ever more deeply and truly. Attending to the way I reflect the vision of this Rule is one way I discern what God is calling me to. Another is through meetings with my director, who probably knows me better than anyone. Usually, ideas surface during our conversations, and occasionally, she will make an explicit suggestion of something I might do during Lent.

The current situation in the United States (and thus, the world) almost could not be more serious. If you can find ways to work toward justice as you see this needs to happen while being faithful to your studies, I would encourage you to do this. As I wrote earlier, the word crisis comes from the Greek κρισις, and it means a time or occasion of decision; this Lent is surely calling for such decisions from all of us. Ask yourself what is loving for the country and how you can specifically participate in that love. It may not be the way I do it or your friend does, but it is very important this year. Pray about this and then act as you feel called to act, that is, as is most faithful to God's loving will and most lifegiving for yourself and for others.

On Hermits and Involvement in Politics

[[Dear Sister O'Neal, are hermits supposed to be involved in politics? You have posted several times on the current political situation, using the excuse of Christianity to do it. You even applauded that disrespectful Episcopal bishop who insulted President Trump. I am not a Trumper, and I am not a hermit either, but I don't believe hermits are supposed to be involved in the things of this world in the way you are, are they? Have you discussed this with your bishop or director?]]

Preliminary Definitions:

In responding to your questions, it is important to be on the same page with several elements of c 603. You need not agree with my usage, but you must at least understand it. The first is the term "the world". In John's Gospel, the term has several meanings, including 1) the entire cosmos, 2) God's good creation here on earth, and 3) that which is resistant to Christ or that promises meaning and salvation apart from God in Christ. When c 603 speaks of "stricter separation from the world," it means, first and foremost, stricter separation from that which is resistant to Christ. This will include some very real separation from even God's good creation (which is better dealt with, I think, in the canon's "silence of solitude"), but this is very much a secondary meaning. Stricter separation from the world means, first of all, that I am required to live a life focused on God in whatever way God is present and to deal with potential obstacles to that in ways appropriate to my education, experience, and vocation.

The second central element that is important to understand is that eremitical life is lived for the sake of the salvation of others.  It is not merely about becoming holy or getting oneself to heaven. That would be a blasphemous perversion of the vocation! Hermits live their lives 1) for God's own sake --- that is for the sake of God's will to be Emmanuel -- and 2) for the sake of those God loves and all God holds as precious. Hermits live their lives so that all may be reconciled to God in Christ and the Kingdom of God may be realized in fullness. While a large part of this will be reflected in and expressed as solitary and intercessory prayer, it will not be limited to these. God's Kingdom, the new heaven and new earth with the risen Christ as Lord or King, is something Christians work toward. As scripture tells us, it is an inaugurated and often counter-cultural reality that requires some degree of involvement by all Christians. My own involvement tends to be much more limited than that of most folks; it often takes the form of theological reflection, a bit of teaching, and spiritual direction. It does not allow blindness or complete disengagement from our world's struggle against evil because, after all, this precise kind of engagement (not enmeshment!!) is the will of God for every Christian.

A Life Rooted in the Scriptures:

Finally, my life is a life of prayer rooted in God and our Scriptures. Because of this, I pray these lines as part of the Magnificat every evening: [[. . . He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts; he has brought down the mighty from their thrones and exalted the lowly . . .]] Clearly, Luke, and presumably Mary, the Mother of Jesus, were very much aware of the political and religious situations of the time. Clearly, they saw the way the sovereignty of God --- what we often call the Kingdom of God or of heaven --- countered the political and religious powers that thought they were sovereign and stood in God's place. Luke and the early Christians praised God for this, even though "a power perfected in (the) weakness" of a Crucified Christ accomplished this victory radically differently than they had expected. 

Similarly, as I noted in an earlier article, I have been reflecting on Jesus' encounter with Pilate as part of my way of keeping centered on Christ. What this raises immediately for me is the conflict between truth and untruth that these two persons represent. Jesus does this in the name of God. That is, he stands in the power and presence of the God who is truth, and in doing so, he confronts Pilate with the very incarnation of truth, both divine and human. Pilate stands in the name of the supposedly divine Caesar; he, therefore, represents the incarnation of untruth revealed in this-worldly human power and arrogance. 

I think we often tend to hear Pilate's question, "What is truth?" in an innocent or even irrelevant sense --- as though Pilate is inviting an intellectual debate or discussion on the nature of truth while Jesus is on trial for his very life. But Pilate poses this question in a sneering way. From the Gospel's perspective, the question is meant to be provocative and prompt us to ask, "What is going on here?" (or to respond, "You're looking at it!). In no way is it innocent or irrelevant! Pilate's contemptuous question is profound and revelatory. It defines the essence of the confrontation between Pilate and Jesus. It demonstrates someone who holds power and is empty and dismissive of truth; he is, therefore, epitomized by this question. Pilate is someone who, when confronted with authentic humanity that thus trusts in the sovereignty of God, can only diminish Jesus' emphasis on the truth ("It is you who say it!") and act to destroy that humanity, even though he does so while ostensibly washing his hands of the matter!! (In our present situation, I can only say, "Let those who have ears to hear, hear this!!") In other words, Jesus IS the very embodiment of Truth confronting an embodiment of untruth and worldly power. I believe every authentic Christian is called to do the same in whatever way they can. This is what it means to proclaim the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

I am absolutely not called to become enmeshed in this world's politics, nor is any hermit. However, to the extent I live in communion with God, I am certainly called upon to proclaim the Gospel with my life and in any other way my talents and training allow. I would argue that my vocation as a hermit gives me the space and time to engage with God and the Scriptures in a way that demands I confront untruth, carelessness, inhumanity, and idolatry when I perceive it. Ordinarily, this does not involve politics in any granular way; today, however, we are looking at a crisis that threatens our entire democracy and perhaps authentic Christianity as well! It threatens millions of lives in this country and around the world. It endangers the ability to pursue authentic religious belief and morality in Christian discipleship and prevents us from following God wherever God summons us. 

Please note where the accent in what I am saying here falls! Check out the posts that caused you to write me as well. Reread them. In each and all of these pieces, my focus is not on politics per se or on countering untruth in some merely abstract way; rather, it is on proclaiming the Gospel of God in Christ so that its light shines concretely in the darkness and untruth of a world God is gradually recreating and transfiguring and will one day bring to fullness. I believe this serves the Church and the larger world and allows people to have hope despite great difficulty. It is precisely because I am a hermit and theologian whose life centers on God in Christ that, in the current situation, I don't believe I can do anything else.

Touching the Wounds of Christ: Proclaiming a Power Perfected in Weakness (Reprise)

This post was first reprised in 04/2016. I reread it as part of my preparation for Lent and for writing a post that follows up one I posted earlier today or very late last night. It also reflects a book I am reading for Lent this year, namely, The Wood Between the Worlds, A Poetic Theology of the Cross. It is a book about the way God uses Jesus' passion and death to reconcile this world with himself, thus transfiguring this world and the way we are called to perceive it.

Thus, considering the questions that follow and what I have written recently about eremitical life, I find a night and day difference between those whose illness is a sign of "the world's" power and those whose illness has truly been transfigured into a sacrament of the presence of God. Most of us with chronic illnesses or disabilities find ourselves between both of these worlds -- at least part of the time. Lent seems to me to be a good time to focus especially on the kinds of choices that allow us to stand firmly in the light of God's love so that even our illnesses and disabilities are transfigured and we come to know ourselves as precious and a delight to God. All of this is reflected in the following post.

______________________________________________________

[[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? ]] (Combination 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, compassion, and solidarity? 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 signs of God's powerful presence in our lives while the illness or woundedness become Sacraments of that same presence and power, 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 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 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 now reconstituted entirely by the grace of God which reveal the very presence of heaven to those we meet.

Approaching Lent and its Call to Be People of the Cross in this Unique Time of Crisis

I don't think I have ever lived in a time that made being a person "of the cross" of greater moment. I wrote earlier that I am reading a book by Brian Zahnd entitled The Wood Between the Worlds. What I didn't mention was that my own prayer life these days is focused on suffering with Christ in a way that places me very solidly and strangely between two worlds. I think there are several ways to understand where I find myself; one of these is in a world of incredible political change, not to say chaos as the conventional order of our country and global community is turned upside down by an incompetent and self-centered administration and its sycophants who are bent on destroying our constitutional democracy. (This is true and a moral issue whether one voted Independent, Republican, or Democrat!) Also, the Catholic Church is finding itself in something of an increasing crisis of leadership as Pope Francis battles a life-threatening illness. At the same time, and by the power of the cross, we stand in a world on its way to becoming part of the new heaven and new earth, a world in which God is truly sovereign and truth and life triumph over sin and death. It is very clear to me that the only place to stand upright in such a world is provided by that same cross and all that God did and continues to do with it.

In Luke's Acts of the Apostles, as I've noted before, the early Church found itself standing in light of Jesus'death, resurrection, and ascension, between two worlds, namely the world where God is not sovereign, the world of idolatry, unjust power, greed, ambition, self-dealing, and utter lack of compassion for the poorest, least and lost, and the world of the new creation, the world where God is indeed sovereign, where all things are held in common and, as is sometimes necessary, the wealthy sell what they have to provide for their brothers and sisters in Christ. The early Church stood in stark contrast with the Empire, with the dominant religious traditions and leaders of the day (even though they stood in profound continuity with the narrative these leaders claimed as their own but no longer represented), and with the Greco-Roman culture and standard philosophies -- the "wisdom" of the day. We Christians have looked at this early Church and marveled at how it could be so powerfully inspired and inspirational that it grew and took over much of the globe. 

Several centuries later, we saw it become "permissible for Christians to be" with Constantine while Christianity was made the state religion by Theodosius just a decade later. My own eremitical vocation was born during this time as the Desert Abbas and Ammas retreated to the desert to embrace a more radically authentic and less domesticated Christianity. And so, I find myself standing in a place I have read about, prayed over, imagined, taught, written about, and both marveled and shuddered at throughout the whole of my adult life. What I recognize in all of this is that both Christianity and the US Constitutional Republic are in danger of being swallowed up by inauthentic and antithetical versions of the real things unless and until Christians find the courage to be people of the cross in all of the ways that implies, and non-Christians similarly embrace the authentically human values that lead them also to fight with compassion for the dignity and freedom of every person in this world.

Lent begins in just a couple of days and it is one of the most important Lenten seasons we Christians have ever faced. What is called "Christian nationalism" (facism co-opting the name we hold to be above every other name!) must be countered, and we must find ways to make sure that the injustices piling up in our country are righted while the least and lost of our world are recognized as God's very own and given what they need to pursue the lives God calls them to. We are called to work towards a Kingdom where God is truly sovereign and justice is done in mercy while retribution and carelessness are condemned as the marks of a demonic realm. We must embrace the cross of Christ with all of its selflessness, sacrifice, fear, suffering, loneliness, uncertainty, hope, and faith. This is no time for simply "giving up chocolate" or a beloved television program we could certainly have lived without anyway, or any of the more or less unserious forms of Lenten "penance" we have made do with (and been able to make do with) in the past. The situation before us is very much more serious than that and calls for a less rote, more thoughtful, and more personally demanding sacrifice!

We have been presented with a crisis (from the Greek κρισις, meaning a time or occasion of decision) few of us have seen before; this crisis is, therefore, also an opportunity to incarnate and reaffirm what we truly believe. Though God certainly did not create or will the situation in which we find ourselves, we have been asked to suffer with Christ so that through his resurrection and ascension, God's victory over sin and death can be fully realized in this world. As was true in the Acts of the Apostles, the Church of Jesus' disciples grew miraculously by the power of the Holy Spirit. As Dietrich Bonhoeffer reminded us as he moved through incredible activism and towards red martyrdom, the way to real discipleship will be both costly and grace-filled. If we can't be the Christians we claim to be, our world is in greater peril than I believe we have ever known.

Follow-up on Standards for Beginning and Mature Hermits

[[Dear Sister Laurel, I was especially aware that when you write about the standards of your life you are describing what happens in a relationship with God. What you seemed to describe regarding the difference between beginners and the mature hermit was the deepening of a relationship. I could see the variations reflected in the way different people participate in this relationship with God. Too, it seemed to me that the central elements of c 603 had to do with what is essential to live a life in relationship with God. Do you see mature hermits practicing these elements more strictly than beginners? Is there any part of what you live that you practice more strictly now than you did as a beginning hermit?]]

You're welcome, and thank you for making clearer than I may have done myself what is most central in speaking of standards of eremitical life. I agree with you that the essential or constitutive elements of c 603 reflect what is central to a hermit's relationship with God. I do recognize that hermits should be open to living greater reclusion if God calls them to this, and I think hermits from the beginning of their eremitical lives should be open to hearing such a call. I tend not to use the word stricter or more strictly to describe changes in my own life. I prefer the term radical instead of this. That corresponds with increasing depth as well as with an increasingly profound degree of lived personal truth. So I live some things more deeply or more radically, yes, but only occasionally does that translate into being stricter about them.

Yes, prayer becomes deeper and more extensive as well, as the person becomes not just someone who prays, but God's own prayer in the church and in our world. In light of this, one mainly continues to pray in the way one did as a beginner, and at the same time (as your question clearly recognized), the relationship that is the heart and purpose of prayer deepens and becomes not just central to one's life but one's very breath and blood as well. In some ways, it feels like prayer is not only not stricter, but that it becomes less strict. Over time, I have shifted from one form of prayer to another or added prayer periods for certain reasons as needed, but there is no strictness about this. Responsiveness and faithfulness or fidelity, yes, but strictness, no; the word just doesn't feel right to me. I suppose it feels like it fails to reflect the integral nature of a Divine call to assiduous prayer and penance. 

I think the words responsive and faithful fit all of the dimensions of my life where they might not have when I was beginning eremitical life in 1984 or so. All those years ago, I was finding my way into a vocation, wondering what it involved or allowed and did not allow. I was exercised with discovering not only what such a call required but whether or not it could be considered truly vital at all. Yes, of course, it was an ancient vocation, but was it really also a contemporary one, important for the contemporary church and for our larger world as well? Could my sense of this call be justified apart from my own chronic illness and disability, for instance, or was I mistaken? (More about this in another article). 

I began reading and praying and discovered people who helped me see this was very much a healthy, vital, and contemporary vocation. Some of Merton's writings were important (Contemplation in a World of Action and his "Notes on a Philsophy of Solitude" were particularly helpful; so were the essays in Allchin's Solitude and Communion, which, in those days, had to be gotten from the Sisters of the Love of God in the UK, and so, put me in touch with their community. Some Camaldolese writing was critical in my discernment, not to mention the existence of the Camaldolese Benedictines in Big Sur. Now, of course, the vocation and my own identity are more just a single thing; in saying this I mean that they are one insofar as I am responsive to God and live my own identity faithfully. So, in all of this, "radically" is a much better word than strictness or any of its cognates.

 Today, I believe that c 603's constitutive elements are less things we are called to do (though, of course, they are also that) and more about the kind of persons that hermits are supposed to be. I believe if we consider these elements this way, we will put the accent where it must be, namely on our relationship with God and who we are called to be in light of that. Canon 603 doesn't spell out what it means to pray or embrace penance assiduously, nor does it define "the silence of solitude" or "stricter separation from the world," and this means each hermit will define these in the way and to the extent her relationship with God calls for and depends on these things. The same is true of the way we work out limited forms of ministry: What does my own growth in wholeness and holiness in light of this relationship require? The question I must continue to ask is how my life in hermitage spills over into ministry and how that ministry demands responsiveness and fidelity to God's love in hermitage. Questions about strictness, especially increasing strictness, tend to be unhelpful or even off-point for me.

On Differing and Similar Standards for Beginners and Mature Hermits

[[Sister Laurel, Are the standards for a beginning hermit different than they are for a mature hermit? I am asking because when you write about living eremitical life you accent the idea of living a vision with widows or doors to Mystery. You also speak of everything being part of the "privilege of Love" and that makes me think that it takes time to truly come to live the hermit life in profound ways. I also wondered about the relationship between contraints and freedom that you wrote about recently, and this ties in with my question because it seems that constraints come before freedom. All of this makes me wonder if the way a beginner lives eremitical life will be different than the life of a mature hermit. If someone wanted to participate in some form of limited ministry it would take time to develop the habits and depths of a life of assiduous prayer and the silence of solitude before one could really discern this, don't you think?]] 

This is a really great question and I really appreciate your explaining how you came to it! Thank you!! I understand what you are thinking, and I generally agree with your analysis. At the same time I also need to look at the way c 603 handles the matter. That allows me to suggest on one hand that in terms of spiritual depth and the aquisition of needed habits, beginners do indeed live the life somewhat differently than mature hermits. On the other hand, when I look at the standards the Church recognizes, namely, canon 603, the guidelines of Ponam in Deserto Viam, and the descriptive passages from the Catechism, beginners and mature hermits are both called to the same standards. Every day, we each walk through the same doorways to the same Mystery. Every day, each hermit is called to embrace assiduous prayer and penance, the silence of solitude, and stricter separation from the world, for instance, in order to come to union with God and one's own divinization. It is the encounter with that Divine Mystery that changes and calls for a tailoring of our lives in ways that differ one hermit from another.

The Fathers who wrote c 603 were aware of and provided for this. Paradoxically, one of the main unchanging standards of c 603 is the requirement of a (liveable) Rule of Life that the hermit writes for him/herself. Every c 603 hermit must do this, and the Rule must not only be rooted in significant lived experience of eremitism and other things as well, but it must demonstrate the way she understands and will live the other elements of the canon itself. It is here that the individual hermit's more personal or unique standards may reveal themselves as shifting even as the overarching elements defining the eremitical life remain the same. In some ways it is also here that the hermit will accommodate any changes in her vision of the way she is to live this vocation and clarify both the tensions that exist and the resolution of these tensions in her way of living solitary eremitical life.

The Beauty and Flexibility of C 603:

I have written many times her over the past nearly 2 decades that I find c 603 to be truly beautiful in the way it combines the defining elements without which one would be unable to live an eremitical life, and the flexibility of one's own personal vision of the life lived in a particular place and time by a particular person. The Church wrote really well when she opted for this combination of constitutive elements. Sometimes folks who believe hermits are "adding things" unnecessarily to or in betrayal of the vocation by this activity or emphasis,  or they may suggest that bishops are allowing things beyond some narrow, even unhealthy notion of eremitical life and don't really understand eremitical life. What is more often true in these cases is that those making the accusations have forgotten the requirement that the hermit write her own liveable Rule. 

Remember, this is a Rule that reflects not only all of the specific and explicit elements of c 603, but also personal elements that are part and parcel of the way God has brought this person to eremitical life and continues to speak to her in the silence of solitude. All of these elements are discerned by the hermit, her bishop, delegate, and (before perpetual profession and consecration) the diocesan formation team. The Rule spells out one's own understanding and vision of solitary eremitical life and its constitutive elements; it also spells out those things, additional and otherwise,  that are required for the individual hermit's own wellness, human wholeness, and personal holiness. It is here that elements that do not work for another hermit but are essential for one's own call by God will be found. 

This is also why I advise hermits I work with to use their Rule as a workbook along with their journal as something that inspires them every day. I also advise folks to revise their Rule every 8-10 years or so (or whenever major changes in the person's life makes this advisable). But let me be clear. The standards or constitutive elements of c 603 don't change. The guidelines of Ponam in Deserto Viam don't change either. If my hermit life looks different from one of the others in our laura (and it definitely does look different in some ways!), it is because my vision of the life, my personal background, relationship with God, and unique gifts and limitations differ. In other words, we have the same vocation and are called to union with God under the same standards (c. 603's constitutive elements, charism, and the Evangelical Counsels, etc); meanwhile, the ways in which God tailors his call or invites us to tailor and incarnate our responses --- especially I think, regarding the requirement that our lives be lived for the salvation of others --- will always also differ one from another. They are both alike and dissimilar precisely because we are each faithful to c 603 and God's call to this vocation! This is recognizable to each of us even though it may be hard to see from outside the vocation or the sharing we do with one another.

On the Interrelatedness of Constraints and Freedom:

I understand why you posit that constraints come before freedom. I think you are generally right in your observations. I believe even more strongly that the constraints, however, are opportunities that accompany and are fulfilled by freedom. My fallback example of this is playing the violin. One must certainly argue as you do analogously, that without technique, one could never play music at all. Imagine what would happen if one could not master bowing (or even hold the bow properly) or finger the notes with precision and speed. Imagine what would and could never happen if one's right hand was stiff and cramped or one couldn't shift with one's left hand because one was holding the violin at the neck of the violin rather than with one's jaw and shoulder. The latter posture leaves the left hand free and entirely mobile, while the former paralyzes it! And imagine all of the scales, arpeggios, and etudes required in all of the possible bowing variations that are necessary to master if one is to allow the violin to sing over the whole of its range!! 

Thus, it is absolutely true that one needs to learn proper technique before one can play to the limits of the instrument, the composer, and one's own imagination and abilities. At the same time, one plays to the limits of one's technique, and doing so musically will transform and push one's technique further as well. Technique serves musical freedom, yes, but musicality (which is partly, I believe, about the influence or inspiration of the Holy Spirit) fulfills technique and allows it to be much more than mere technicality. It is always the two together that produces music, and music, I sincerely believe, is a form of prayer and perhaps a model for growth in all prayer.

What I am trying to say is that it is not only possible but also necessary for all things to grow together simultaneously once one becomes a c 603 hermit. It is very much a holistic vocation. Yes, profession and consecration under c 603 require preparation. For instance, one should be a contemplative before discerning a call to eremitical solitude, and one should already have completed one's schooling and any certification or licensure work one envisions needing.  Strictly speaking, one should not be a beginner at eremitical life when one is admitted to profession and consecration as a c 603 hermit. For this reason a good deal of the growth you are speaking of happens before one becomes c 603; at the same time, we hermits recognize in one another the same patterns of growth, the same embrace of values and constitutive elements, the same vocations no matter the differences in our Rules and whether we have been a hermit for decades or for a only a handful of years. I'll end this here for now. There is definitely more to explore, though, so thanks again for your questions!!