Showing posts with label Charism of the Diocesan Hermit. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Charism of the Diocesan Hermit. Show all posts

22 July 2022

The Silence of Solitude as Charism or Gift to the Church and World (Reprise)

John Kasper, Allen Vigneron, Marietta Fahey
and me (kneeling) at perpetual profession
First posted 5 years ago, 8/27/17. [[Dear Sister, thanks for posting what you have about diocesan hermits. You say that your vocation is a gift to the Church and to the world. I am having a hard time describing to a friend how it is that this is so. I don't mean that I don't believe it, only that I cannot explain it. Could you say specifically what you mean when you speak of the charism of your vocation or the gift it is to Church and World? Thank you!]]

Great question! Thanks. The eremitical vocation, and in my case the solitary eremitical vocation, is always very clearly a gift of God to the hermit. It is the way she comes to freedom from various forms of bondage, the way she experiences redemption and grows to wholeness and holiness. It is the way God shapes the weaknesses, deficiencies, as well as the gifts and talents of the hermit's life into a coherent whole so that all of these things witness to the grace of God. When I try to speak of what this means in my life I have sometimes said that God transformed what was often a scream of anguish into a Magnificat of praise. (Neither part of this illustration is hyperbolic.)  But, because this is the work of God, because vocation is ALWAYS the work of God, it must be a gift to others as well and especially, it is a gift to the Church even as it is a gift to the whole world. It is by reflecting on the way the vocation transforms and transfigures my own life that I come to understand how it is a gift to these as well; when I do one phrase from canon 603 begins to sound in my heart and mind, namely, the silence of solitude. I think this phrase describes the charism or specific gift quality of the solitary eremitical vocation both in my own life and as that life is lived for the sake of the salvation of others. So let me summarize what I mean by "the silence of solitude" and why it is the unique gift I am asked to bring to the Church and world.

There are all kinds of silence but I think they can be divided into external or physical silence and inner silence. The silence of solitude is a combination of both of these but what I want to focus on throughout this response is how "the silence of solitude" reflects more than anything an inner wholeness and silence we each seek and need --- an inner wholeness and silence we are really called to by God. This silence is the quiet of inner peace, a silence that sings with the presence of God, and resonates with the love one knows as part of the Body of Christ, part of the family of mankind, and part of the Mystery of Creation more generally. It is the silence of belonging, of knowing one's value and the meaningfulness of one's life, the silence of the cessation of striving for these things or the noise of existential and unfulfillable yearning for them. The Jewish term which might best be applied to this particular silence is shalom. I say this because it is a dynamic, living thing which pulses with the life, peace, and promise of God even as it quietly and confidently contemplates that same God in wonder and love.

What you may notice is how intrinsically related to God and others, and to one's deep or true self too, this "solitude" is in what c 603 calls "the silence of solitude". The "silence of solitude" does involve an external silence and physical solitude; the hermit cannot live the inner reality without this. But in a deeper way the silence of solitude is a paradoxical reality I have to describe in terms of harmony and music and life and singing and relating to and resonating with others. The "silence of solitude" referred to in c 603 describes not only the outer environment of the hermitage, but the inner reality of loving and being loved in a way which witnesses to the truth that God alone is enough for us. So long as the relational element is missing from our definitions or descriptions, and so long as the "musical" or living dimension is omitted we can be sure we have missed the point of this phrase in the canon. But when we include it we begin to understand why the hermit's vocation is truly a gift to the Church and others.

The hermit lives alone; she lives in relative silence. And yet, the consecrated hermit, the solitary canon 603 hermit or the hermit living in a canonical community also consciously embraces an ecclesial vocation where the dimension of commissioning by and for the Church is never absent. These hermits have Rules and formal relationships (legitimate superiors, delegates, faith community expectations) which qualify or condition the quality of their solitude at every point. They are engaged in ongoing formation which empowers continuing healing, growth, greater maturity and even genuine holiness. 

They do this in order to witness to the grace of God and its place in transforming the isolation and alienation of every life into something hermits recognize as the Person glorifying (i,e, revealing) the God we know as Love-in-Act. Individualism, isolation, alienation, the muteness and anguish of bondage have no place here. Powerfully and paradoxically the hermit stands against each and all of these in the freedom and profound relatedness canon 603 refers to as "the silence of solitude." As one called and commissioned to live this reality she witnesses to the possibility of being genuinely whole, truly happy, complete and capable of the relatedness, generosity, and love God's grace makes possible in every life --- even when the person has no worldly status, no physical wealth or power, no family or friends, and perhaps no place even to "lay her head". This is the charism of her vocation and life, the gift God bestows on Church and world through consecrated eremitical life.

I can spell some of this out more concretely perhaps, but I am hoping it gives you the beginnings of an answer to your question. To summarize: in a world torn apart by divisions of all kinds, by the rampant individualism marking and driving so much of its terrible dysfunction and disorder as well as by a grasping at and use of others with distorted forms of "love" and relatedness, the hermit ostensibly stands alone, but really is made whole and of almost infinite value by the continuing power and presence of the God she knows as Love-in-Act. She proclaims the potential held by each and every life and the way in which that potential can be realized by the grace of God. To stand apparently alone in the name of the Church, witnessing to the possibility, power, and presence of Love and the indispensability of deep and harmonious relatedness with God, self, and others ("the silence of solitude", the song of shalom), that is her charism, the charism or gift of her solitary eremitical vocation.

04 May 2022

Looking at the term Charism: Does it Mean Anything for the c. 603 Hermit?

[[ Hi Sister Laurel, Sisters I know talk about the charism of their communities', and their missions. Does eremitical life have a charism? How about Consecrated Virginity? Can you help me understand what the word means? I was wondering if it would be helpful for lay people to have a sense of the charism of their own vocations. Does it make a difference for you?]]

First time questions, I think. Many thanks. In my life I identify the silence of solitude as the charism of solitary eremitical life. Because I identify solitude with more than external aloneness (I see it as a place of quiet and wholeness where the noise of human woundedness, struggle, and pain come to rest in the deepest truth of life and the peace of God), and I identify silence less with physical silence and more with hesychia or a kind of stillness that results when one's life is rightly ordered in terms relationships with God, self, and others, the silence of solitude represents the completion and fullness of life in relationship that occurs when God completes one and she exists in communion with God and God's creation (including one's own deepest and truest self).  This completion/fullness is a gift of the Holy Spirit and the fruit of the life of prayer, stricter separation, silence and solitude. The word charism reflects this gift quality (gifts = charisma) and it reflects a form of community absolutely foundational others also need and are made for.

Generally, a congregation's charism refers to a unique gift quality their life and ministry represent for both Church and world given as the Holy Spirit acts in conjunction with human beings to meet significant contemporary needs. When I think of eremitical life and especially that under c 603, assiduous prayer and penance are not unique to it, nor is stricter separation from the world. The Evangelical Counsels are not unique to it either, although all of these elements are gifts of God to the hermit and others. The one central element of c 603 which, it seems to me, orders all other elements towards significant contemporary needs is the silence of solitude.  Always more than the sum of its parts, the silence of solitude takes up all of the other elements of the eremitical life, and of c 603, and transforms them into a whole that can effectively proclaim the Gospel to every person.

You see, I understand the silence of solitude as a countercultural reality which speaks not only to religious persons, but to anyone seeking reassurance that the isolation of alienation which so marks and mars our world can be borne creatively and transfigured and transformed in the process.  Eremitical solitude is antithetical to alienation and isolation; it is relational through and through. The silence belonging to this solitude is not an anguished cry of emptiness, but a distinct song that rejoices in God's love as that love-in-act completes us as human beings and we come to live in union with God and the whole of God's creation. The term silence of solitude refers to the human person made whole and holy through the power of the Holy Spirit. It refers to what occurs when we are healed of the wounds that cause us to cry out in anguish or withdraw in fear and exhaustion from the struggle to live fully. It is the human being as language event brought to her most perfect and powerful fulfillment in God.

Think what it is like to sit quietly with a friend, without strain or competition or the need to prove oneself or be anyone other than the persons we are while resting in the presence of another. That moment of selfhood achieved while at rest in the life and presence of a friend (and in fact, is, in part,  made possible by that presence) is one of the silence of solitude. We all recognize such a moment as one in which alienation is overcome, the noisy striving of everyday life is quieted, and the human potential and need for profound relationship is, for the moment, realized. When the hermit rests in and enjoys the company of God in a similar way, when, that is, she becomes God's covenant partner and allows God to be hers in all she is and does, something similar but even greater and more definitive occurs. It is this that I believe c 603 recognizes as the silence of solitude; moreover, it is something every person yearns for and hermits witness to with their lives. Thus, I identify the silence of solitude as the context, goal, and charism of the eremitical life.

Does the fact that my life is charismatic and has a specific charism make a difference for me? Yes, absolutely.  For instance, because I have a sense of the charism of my vocation it means recognizing that my life is lived for others and therefore, that the call to wholeness and holiness in silence and solitude can never be allowed to become or remain a selfish or me-centered reality. It means recognizing and committing to living this vocation well because, as Thomas Merton once said, this life "makes certain claims about nature and grace"; to live it badly is to fail to allow it to witness to the truth of such claims, namely, that whoever we are and in whatever situation or condition, our God delights in and desires to complete us and bring us to fulness of life with and in God himself. It means insisting that dioceses and candidates understand this charism so that vocations to c 603 life are understood as significant and needed vocations, and discernment and formation processes (including the ongoing formation processes of consecrated hermits as well as those of candidates for profession/consecration) are undertaken carefully with equally significant rigor. 

When we forget the charism of this vocation (or any other vocation for that matter), we open the door to professing and consecrating those who can neither live nor witness to others in the way a c 603 hermit is called to do. I have been convinced for some time that it is in neglecting the charism of this vocation (that is, in forgetting that this vocation has a charism and is essentially charismatic) that we open the door to fraudulent hermits and stopgap vocations that are disedifying and even scandalous. Once dioceses identify the charism of this vocation, they will have a better way of discerning vocations to eremitical life under c 603. I think that the same is true of any vocation, including the vocation to lay life in the Church, Understanding the gift quality of any vocation helps one to live it well and to commit to growing in this ability for the whole of one's life.

01 July 2020

Whom Could It Hurt?

[[Dear Sister, I wondered why it is dioceses are so reluctant to profess hermits when they don't have to support them financially? I mean if money isn't the issue, then what is? Who will be hurt by professing someone if they don't quite fit the description of canon 603? When I approached my diocese they asked  that I live as a hermit under direction for a year or two, and then re-approach them. I don't see the need and I don't see the need for a spiritual director either! I have God and He directs me better than any human being ever could. I just don't get why it's a big deal to just profess someone if they desire it.]]

Thanks for your questions. They are important and timely. I heard someone ask the first one just a couple of weeks ago, and over the years I have been asked variations of it many times -- often without the reference to finances; sometimes a person will ask as you did, "Who will it hurt?" or, "What does it matter?" (Sometimes I have thought this bishop or that has professed someone they don't really believe is a hermit while asking themselves the very same question!!) All of these are questions usually raised by non-canonical hermits or by those who desire to be hermits and who may desire to be canonical. Sometimes the responses given by dioceses sour these persons on seeking canonical standing, and often the reasons are simply not understood or appreciated. When I heard the question two weeks ago it surprised me because of the reference to money. Your own question is surprising because it comes so quickly on the heels of that other one. The answer I gave two weeks ago was, "Because it is very rare for human beings to come to wholeness or authentic humanity in eremitical solitude," and that is where I will begin here.

It is very rare for a human being to come to wholeness or authentic humanity in eremitical solitude; most of us are called to love and be loved in ways eremitical existence does not really allow for; the need for society is real and necessary for most people in ways it is not for the hermit. Nor is this merely about the difference between introversion and extroversion. It is about the meaningfulness and fullness of one's life. Moreover, for the Church to allow someone to live this vocation in her Name, she must be as sure as possible that the witness the person gives is similar to the witness given by Jesus in the desert: she must see clear signs that it is in the desert of eremitical solitude that one is, through the grace of God, victorious over the powers of evil and solidified in one's identity (one's authentic humanity and capacity to love) in God. Another way of saying this is to affirm that very few people are called to witness to the victory of the Gospel of Christ through the silence of eremitical solitude.

For the church to admit someone to eremitical profession and thus, to canonical standing, is to allow that person to live the life in her name; this means she sees clear signs that this vocation is leading this person to wholeness and holiness and that they will serve others with their witness. It also means the church is relatively well-assured of the fact that the one professed will be open and attentive to the directives of superiors and others in the church in order that this witness be the best it can be. This is why the discernment process for canonical vocations is mutual. The issue is not financial; it is one of authentic witness, and so too, of participating in the Church's own mission and the very great charism of eremitical life.

 The Richness of Canon 603:

Can 603 is not merely a brief description of eremitical life, though I agree it is that. More, though, it defines a vision one is called to embrace, a piece of the church's own spiritual tradition one is invited to represent afresh, a commitment one is called to make as an expression of the Gospel of God in Christ. When I have written about the central elements of the canon before, I have written about them as mysteries to be explored. (cf.,  Followup on Canon 603 and Freedom) Canonical standing is both the right and the obligation to engage in this specific exploration all the days of one's life; it signifies the right and obligation to do so in the Church's name -- not only for the sake of hospitality to God, and for the sake of the Gospel, but for the sake of one's own freedom, wholeness, and holiness in incarnating and witnessing to these things. Because of this it is important for the Church to be sure that the individual whose vocation is in question (i.e., being discerned) really does give every indication of being called to all of this and to authentic freedom (which includes the ability to love compassionately) precisely as a hermit who can live the vocation in the Church's name.

For instance, you say forthrightly that you "don't see the need" either to live as the Church asks you in this situation, nor to work regularly with a spiritual director.  As baptized you have every right to decide in this way that you will not be subject to the directives of the Church in these matters. But what you do not have the right to do is to reject these directives and at the same time expect to be granted the right to make public vows as a hermit who lives her life under the supervision of the Church, under regular spiritual direction, and who is therefore publicly bound to do so obediently in her name. The Church, in the person of your diocesan personnel asked you to live a particular way for a year or two so that she could adequately discern the potential presence of an ecclesial eremitical vocation. She is not discerning a vocation to individualism with you, nor does she mistake the freedom of the hermit for the license of the individualist. When you ask whom could it hurt to profess someone anyway, the answer is, a significant number of people and the solitary eremitical vocation itself as it has been entrusted to the Church. Let me explain.

Asking to Profess a Commitment to a Specific Desert Existence for the Sake of Others:

Those who approach the Church requesting admission to perpetual profession, are asking to live a desert existence which is almost infinitely meaningful in Christ and the power of the Spirit. We do this because, in one way and another, we have known desert experiences throughout our own lives and learned that God is always there in the unexpected and even the unacceptable place. We do this because these desert experiences have made us desirous of loving and witnessing to precisely such a God, and we do so for the sake of all of those others whose lives will find them at one time and another in various deserts or wildernesses with all of the constraints, dangers, deficiencies, and also the potentialities of such lives. We do not do so simply so we may do as we like. We accept the constraints and the great potential of this ecclesial definition of solitary eremitical life because, 1) we know this ecclesial vocation does not belong to us but to the church,  2) because we know that God is found in a privileged way here, and 3) because we appreciate that this Presence will make of our lives an instance of Gospel victory and freedom which can serve others in profound ways.

Individualism simply doesn't do this. If I am witnessing to someone who finds themselves in a desert or wilderness situation from which there is no escape --- say the desert of chronic illness, for instance -- I cannot "kick off the (relatively minor) traces" of canon 603 supervision and obedience, and expect my life to say anything important to this person. They are searching for a way to live their potential and to find freedom despite the serious and inescapable constraints of their illness. My life as a canonical hermit with its constraints and correlative freedom to explore the depths of God and humanity, witnesses to the possibility of doing so; life as an individualist rejecting the constraints of law, ecclesiality, and so forth, is far less likely to do so. Besides, as I pointed out in the article linked above, the foundational and essential elements of canon 603 are not merely constraining elements for the solitary canonical hermit, they are doorways to the Mystery of God and the Human person constituted in dialogue with God, and I embrace them as such.

Whom Does it Hurt?

To profess someone who does not feel called to embrace and, in fact, refuses to embrace these same elements, witnesses to something other than the c 603 hermit does --- whatever that is. It is damaging to the power of the canon's vision and witness to profess someone who cannot and does not witness to the very thing the canon stands for. One has a responsibility to discern how and where one best witnesses to the way God has worked and is working in one's life. The Church has an obligation to do the same with regard to canon 603. If one is called to witness to something else or to do so in another way, it would be irresponsible of the Church to admit one to profession under canon 603. (cf. Eremitism or Exaggerated Individualism?).

We do not honor the vocation or charism of a vocation (the way it is a gift of the Holy Spirit) by professing those we don't believe are truly called to come to human wholeness and holiness in this specific way. For that matter we demean their true vocations by doing so, just as we deprive those to whom their lives might otherwise speak, of this vocation's appropriate message and messenger. That is significant damage, damage to the Church's witness, to the vocation's power and relevance, and to those touched directly by this dishonesty; that is whom it hurts. And ultimately, because very few truly come to wholeness or holiness in this way or witness to the power of God to bring one to holiness and wholeness in this way,  the Church professes relatively few hermits under canon 603 (or in congregations). Again, it is a rare vocation which the Church honors, not in numbers, but in appropriate fidelity, care, and truthfulness.

06 February 2019

Can a Priest Be a Diocesan Hermit in One Diocese/Country and Live As a Hermit Under A Second Bishop in Another Diocese/Country?

[[Dear Sister Laurel, I am a priest intending to become a diocesan priest hermit. I will not be living in my own home diocese, however, but will go to a neighboring country. I know that I will have to make profession before the bishop in order to become a proper hermit. I do not intend to change diocese, or become incardinated anywhere else. I will simply be living in another country. The question is this: Can my own bishop give permission to the bishop in the place where I will be living to receive my vows? Is that permitted by Canon Law? It's wonderful to know that there is someone like you willing to help people in these situations. Thank you in anticipation for any help you can give.]]
 
Dear Father, Thanks for your question. It is gratifying that you would write. My understanding is that under c 603 one must live in the diocese in which one is professed. Remember the canon is explicit in this, the hermit makes profession "in the hands of the local bishop". I suspect this language is what prompted your question, but it is for this reason that c 603 hermits are called diocesan hermits. A person may move to another diocese and remain a diocesan hermit if and only if the new bishop agrees to receive his/her vows. When this occurs he becomes the hermit's legitimate superior and also has agreed --- at least in principle --- to be open to discerning and professing other canon 603 vocations in his diocese. (Remember, not all bishops/dioceses have opened themselves to implementing canon 603.)
 
The situation you outline is very different and is, though not intentionally perhaps, capable of being perceived as a way of sidestepping both the stability of the vocation, the sense that this vocation is a gift of God to the local Church, and the ability of either the remote or the local bishop to act effectively as legitimate superior. It could be remarked that the situation you are describing also tends to weaken the ecclesial nature of the vocation and would, at least potentially, set a destructive precedent or at least be unhelpful to those persons in the beginnings of considering or discerning vocations as diocesan hermits.

Let me point out that canonical profession is not needed to be a "proper" hermit. We have lay hermits and priests living as hermits --- both without public vows (and often without private vows either). Canonical vows (part of the larger act the Church recognizes as profession) are needed to live and represent eremitical life as a Catholic Hermit, that is, in the name of the Church. If you wish to live as a hermit your bishop can give you permission to do so; strictly speaking you do not need to be professed as a diocesan hermit under c 603. You could, if you desired, make private vows with your bishop as witness (though he would not be "receiving" these vows in the name of the church; that would require profession under c 603). One problem with this option or the next is that in my experience, bishops are generally very reluctant to give permission to diocesan priests to become hermits; not only does the priest shortage make this difficult but the long period of discernment and preparation in one being admitted to the Sacrament of Orders strongly suggests that, short of a life-changing event or circumstances, eremitical life is contrary to the person's true vocation. 

Difficulties aside, if you wish to be a diocesan hermit, that is, a solitary canonical or solitary Catholic hermit, you could do that by making profession in the hands of your local bishop if he were to give permission; if you wished the second bishop to subsequently receive these vows and change your residence he would need to agree. Were you simply to move out of the professing diocese without required approval of the receiving bishop, your vows would cease to be binding due to a material change in the terms of profession. If you were to continue living in a different country and make profession in the diocese of incardination, the requirements of c 603 ("in the hands of the local bishop") would be violated and your profession would likely be invalid.

Also, I believe as a matter of true governance (and your own responsibility), acceptance of responsibility for your vocation and vows by the second bishop would also require your incardination in the new diocese. What I cannot envision is incardination as priest in one diocese and profession (or reception of one's vows/vocation) and consequent standing as a diocesan hermit in another. In such a case you would be a single subject attempting to live under the canonical authority of two different bishops and that strikes me as incoherent with neither bishop really having true jurisdiction. I doubt a bishop can simply relinquish authority in the way you have described.

Since I am not a canonist, however, I will refer you to one whom I know and trust with particular expertise with canon 603 but also in matters having to do with ordained and consecrated life more generally. While I believe I have given you accurate information, a second opinion might be of assistance. Meanwhile, I hope my response is helpful both as a direct answer to your question and as a way of thinking further about canon 603 vocations. Whether private or public commitment, whichever option you choose, I wish you good luck in your journey to/in eremitical life!

N.B. The canonist mentioned above commented on the submitted question and essentially noted that it was a matter of jurisdiction and that a priest could not be bound in obedience to two different bishops in two different dioceses. Incardination binds a priest in obedience to the local ordinary; so does canon 603. The first bishop has no jurisdiction over affairs in the second diocese and so, cannot act to delegate authority or give permission in the way described in the question --- something I had not thought of at all myself!

23 November 2017

On Thomas Merton and Monastic Garb

Dear Sister Laurel, I read the following quotation from Thomas Merton which I thought was terrific. I wondered what you would say about it since you wear both cowl and other monastic garb. Would you mind commenting on it? I guess I also wonder if you agree or disagree with Merton's practice. [[I am deliberately discarding everything that can conjure up the artificial image of the monk in a cowl, dwelling in a medieval cloister. In this way I intend obviously, not to disparage or to reject the monastic institution, but to set aside all its accidentals and externals, so that they will not interfere with my view of what seems to me to be deepest and most essential.]] Thomas Merton, "Notes on a philosophy of solitude," Disputed Questions.
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Thanks for what is indeed a truly terrific question from one of the Merton texts I personally love the best. Let me say I agree completely with Merton's intention or aim in structuring his discussion. I also generally agree with the way he has chosen to illustrate this intention; insofar as this was the way that worked best to allow Merton so explore what is deepest and most essential about the eremitical vocation I agree completely with his choice. It is important to remember that Merton remained a Trappist living on monastic grounds, supported by his Trappist community at Gethsemane. I think this strictly monastic context allows Merton to deal with anything that struck him as artificial or a matter of mere "externals", especially in the portrait of contemporary eremitical life. But more than this, as I recall, the entire discussion including what you have cited is part of a long note introducing the topic of a philosophy of solitude; it was meant to point to the fact that contemporary solitaries need not be monks at all, but might be lay persons.

Thus Merton's comments, when read in this specific context were not contributions to a discussion of whether or not one should wear a habit and/or cowl. Instead Merton wanted to examine the essence of a call to solitude where the individual lives the most basic or essential existential isolation and loneliness common not only to every person but to God as well. More, he wanted to do so in a way which demonstrated its enormous and universal challenge and meaningfulness. To do this he did indeed eschew those things which are "accidentals" or mere externals and which pull the discussion in the direction of monastic life alone so that he might also include folks like Thoreau. Solitude as Merton portrayed it, is a fundamental existential characteristic of human and Divine life. To embrace it as vocation is to serve both God and Mankind in a radically significant way. So Merton stripped his discussion of artificial elements which would only speak to and of a monk in his cowl or a Medieval cloister.

But your question to me broadens the discussion some to include the notion of wearing monastic garb like a habit and/or cowl. Does doing so indicate one is more concerned with accidentals and externals than with those things which are most essential and of greatest import? Depends, of course. My own sense is that this is much more a problem at the beginning of vocations when wearing a habit is a novelty, when one is not really comfortable in it yet (and perhaps not even in one's own skin!), and before one has had the time to take seriously the essentials or that which is deepest. After all it takes time for one to begin living any vocation in a way which plumbs and reveals the depths of that call. Reflecting on what is deepest or essential  demands time and some intellectual formation and focused attention. One needs to become acquainted with the thought and lives of those who have gone before in whatever tradition is involved; additionally one needs to have lived and struggled with this same tradition enough to discover the depths of one's own faith and identity in Christ.

If you notice Merton's own practice you will see that he wore a habit at times and ordinary monastic work clothes at other times. I don't think he rejected monastic garb, nor do I think he was all that concerned with what he wore --- and this would include not eschewing the Trappist habit as something external as much as it might have included embracing it as something which was not merely external. Merton was a Trappist and part of that tradition and life was the Trappist habit. Diocesan hermits today may or may not wear a habit and/or cowl. Those coming to c 603 life from some form of religious (cenobitical) life  will tend to wear a habit  which is a modification of what they already wore.

Those without any history in religious life may or may not wear a habit and if this is a first-time thing they will go through the same "stages" as anyone else: initial novelty and self-consciousness (often with a misplaced pride or sense of specialness), loss of self-consciousness and increasing identification with the tradition represented by the habit (often with an increased internalization of the values which transmute "specialness" into mission), and finally, the gradual or eventual making of the habit truly one's own (which may involve a sense that by the grace of God one's life embodies a special gift or charism to Church and world). Each of these "stages" represents a kind of deepening of one's appreciation of the vocation and the way one lives it. Each represents a shift to greater humility and communion.  The last stage (which is not really last but accompanies the other stages) emphasizes the way one's life imbues the habit with one's own story, while the penultimate stage (again not really a separate stage but a dimension present in each) emphasizes the way one's own story is shaped and sustained by a specific eremitical (or spiritual) tradition.

Eduard Schillebeeckx, a 20th C. Dominican theologian describes this same process in his essay entitled "Dominican Spirituality" in God Among Us.  [[For the most part people live by stories. I myself live by my own story. When I became a Dominican I linked my life story with the family Story of the Dominicans; as a result, my life story took on a new orientation and I picked up the thread of the story of the Order in my own way. So my own life has become part of the Dominican family story: a chapter in it. Through the story of the Order I have attained my own identity. Stories of the Dominican Order keep us together as Dominicans.

Without stories we should lose our memories, fail to find our own place in the present and remain without hope or expectation for the future. Thus as Dominicans we form a group by virtue of being our own storytelling community, which hands down its own traditions within the wider story of the many religious communities, within the all embracing story of the great community of the church, and within the even greater community of humankind. This makes us our own special family, recognizable from all kinds of family characteristics. Some are major, some are minor, but none of them can be hidden. 


In saying this, I have already said something about Dominican spirituality. The story of my life can be my own life story only in so far as it has become a chapter of the Dominican family story. The story of my own life extends and enriches the history of Dominican spirituality, while as a small almost infinitesimally small – almost infinitely small – chapter in it, it is at the same time relativized and criticized by the already older and wider story of the Dominican family. This makes me ask whether I really am not distorting this family story. So I am already others as a norm for Dominican spirituality. Furthermore, thank God, there are still Dominicans alive today. In other words, our story is not yet exhausted, completely told; there is still something to be said.]]

I understand the wearing of (and often, the well-considered choice to relinquish the habit in certain circumstances) is part of this process of making a particular story one's own and assuming responsibility for being a living chapter in that story. It is only a part of the necessary deepening of an ecclesial vocation such as c 603 eremitical life, but in such a process, when lived well it is certainly more than something which is merely an external and superficial element of living out one's call. For the solitary canonical hermit who must live "stricter separation from the world" in the midst of the world, the habit can be an especially challenging as well as indispensable piece of embracing both the mission and charism of her vocation. Those who choose not to wear a habit (and lay hermits who may not do so anyway because they have not been given the right) embrace characteristics like the call's hiddenness differently and  tell the eremitical story in a different way. So long as each hermit is acting in considered and prayerful ways they are an important part of the essence of the call and an expression of the depth such vocations demands.

I hope this helps as a start on this topic of habits.

31 August 2016

The Desert is a Dangerous Place, Eremitical Life is a Perilous Reality

 Dear Sister, usually when you write about the silence of solitude it is a positive thing but your last piece was pretty dark. I wondered if you were okay and if this was a new discovery you had made about the power of the silence of solitude? Someone else wrote about the suffering you were experiencing. Have I missed something (I ask because I care)!

Please don't be concerned. About three months ago I wrote about doing some inner work with my director which was demanding and challenging. I have continued with that and sometimes it has been reflected in my posts --- though generally it has meant fewer posts or posts which were poorly written and kind of rambling --- probably the result of putting these up before allowing my thoughts to mature and gel. I suspect the person referring to suffering was referring to some part of that constellation of posts. The piece I wrote a couple of days ago on Eremitical silence as harrowing as well as hallowing was not a new insight, no, but I certainly know it more deeply and extensively than I did from previous work. Moreover it is an important dimension of eremitical silence I have needed and now need to treat more explicitly --- especially in light of questions I am receiving about eremitical life and candidates with serious mental illness (I am working on one of these right now), or about topics like formation, the need for careful discernment, the indispensability of competent and regular spiritual direction, the danger of eremitical solitude, and so forth.

I have written before that eremitical silence and solitude are not easy and that the vocation itself is demanding. I have quoted Merton and others, noted that this is not a vocation generally suited for those with mental illness (though when it seems possible for someone who functions well and whose illness is stable this should be determined carefully by chancery, directors, therapists, etc on a case by case basis); I have explained that eremitical solitude is not the normal way to achieve personal wholeness and holiness, and I've described instances of individuals who were clearly decompensating as the result of living in an isolation they called "eremitical". I've even written a few times about battling with demons --- usually those of one's own heart! What I may not have done clearly enough is describe the way desert silence and solitude can strip away defenses and break open one's mind and heart to deeper and deeper levels of woundedness (some would speak of deeper or more foundational levels of sinfulness and alienation here but woundedness seems the better choice to me). This has always been implicit in posts referring to inner work, spiritual direction, and the other topics I have mentioned above and it was more explicit in the posts on battling with demons -- a perennial topic for the desert Abbas and Ammas --- but it needed to be made even more explicit I think.

The Desert is a Dangerous Place:

As I approach this anniversary of my perpetual profession as a diocesan hermit (02. September) I have looked back on some of the topics I have felt passionately (and sometimes written extensively) about. What is clear to me is that most of them have at their core the fact that this vocation is a gift of the Holy Spirit to the Church (and only then to the individual) and thus requires the church to treat it with real respect for precisely the gift it is. This means (or has meant) codifying it in canon law, carefully discerning candidates for profession, demanding Rules be written only after a candidate has sufficient experience living the life under competent direction, continuing direction and regular supervision (legitimate superiors), and providing lists of or even access to resources an individual may draw from in order to get the initial formation she needs to live this life well "in the name of the Church". But the flip side to all of this, the reason the charismatic nature of the vocation must be recognized and adequate care taken in all of these ways is also precisely because solitary eremitical life in the silence of solitude is dangerous for one not truly called to it --- or for one who undertakes it without sufficient support and assistance!

After all, one vows to listen in silence and solitude to the voice of God dwelling in one's heart. Moreover, one vows to give that entire heart over to God to love into wholeness and holiness; in this way one comes to know and reflect the silence OF solitude. That is what obedience is all about. But at the same time, the journey into the depths of one's own heart, as I wrote in the last post, can be a harrowing experience, for though one's heart is meant to belong to God alone, very much more dwells and often has dominance there than God alone. Similarly, while God never abandons us, there are times when God's presence takes the form of darkness and distance precisely so we can come to know those parts of our hearts which war against (him) --- against love and life itself --- and which divide us as persons so that quite often we stand diminished, fragmented and at war with ourselves. I wrote recently that the Holy Spirit maintained (was!) the bond of communion between Father and Son, but that additionally it was the Holy Spirit that maintained distance between them as well --- especially during Jesus' descent into hell, for instance. And so it is in the hermit's sometimes dark silence of solitude. God is experienced as absence or remoteness but it is still God's presence we know in these challenging ways.

Journeying With a Competent Director:

The listening (hearkening, obedience) one does involves a breaking open of the hardened and well-defended heart or false "self", and leads to a kind of stripping away of the false and distorted as well as to a revelation of the fearful, fragile, and (thanks be to God) the rich potential living at the core of ourselves. The result is a vulnerability which is excruciatingly painful and which absolutely requires the assistance of a competent director who knows not only how to do this kind of spiritual or "inner" work, but also when it is time to do it as well as when the hermit is strong enough (in her inner covenantal life with God or Selfhood) to attempt it. At these times some parts of the hermit's Rule may be suspended and other changes made to accommodate differing needs for rest, prayer, food, recreation, direction or contact with one's delegate, etc.

Though one's director need not (and probably will not) be a hermit, it takes someone knowledgeable and personally experienced in the same kind of inner journey to assist and accompany the hermit in all of this. Otherwise one will have the equivalent of the blind leading the blind into the pit and tragedy will ensue. (It should go without saying that a "hermit" attempting to live in the desert without the assistance of a competent director with whom they meet regularly is, from my perspective, perhaps the greatest fool I could name. Unfortunately it happens.) In any case, it is also at this time that the hermit's own knowledge, experience and faith, all tested over time, prove their greatest worth.

On my Anniversary:

Despite all I have said here and in a few recent posts which may have seemed uncharacteristically "dark", let me also reiterate that I could not be happier in my vocation as a diocesan hermit. While the inner work in which I have recently been engaged has been difficult and rending (harrowing) it has simultaneously been a clear source of abundant life (hallowing) as well. There is no doubt in my mind that the temporary suffering of this work itself is a grace of God, not simply a source of grace as much suffering is and can be, but a wounding and profoundly life-giving touch of God (him)self and one that I might never have known but for this vocation and those who assist me in it.

Deep healing and growth in holiness is clearly something God is calling me to "in the silence of solitude" and apart from canonical eremitical life I would have neither the time nor the space and discipline for prayer, the access to sufficient direction or supervision, the commitment of profession which empowers and sustains the work, nor would I have the motivation or have been able to grow as sufficiently as I have needed in the commitment which make perseverance in this specific journey possible. God has truly blessed me in this and though there is pain and a sense of great fragility right now, I approach this anniversary with even more life, strength, and gratitude than I have known in the past. The promise of the future, though still being worked out "in fear and trembling" as Paul might put it, is very full indeed.

Adequately honoring this Gift of the Holy Spirit:

Dioceses that fail to pay attention to the reality and perhaps the inevitability of this experience of God in the darkness and abject suffering of the silence of solitude will be unable to assist hermits they profess. Even more problematically they are apt to profess "hermits" who can neither negotiate nor thrive (come to the abundant life Jesus promises) in the desert of eremitical life. Outright illness or a lack of integrity marked by mediocrity and "vocations" which are thus disedifying and even scandalous to all involved will be the result.

To summarize, the desert is a dangerous place. Eremitical silence and solitude are perilous realities and dioceses professing hermits need to be keenly aware of these facts. Especially they must never believe they are merely entrusting individuals to some sort of prayer-filled life of mere peace and quiet! The eremitical contemplative life of prayer in the silence of solitude is wonderful, yes, but it is also a source of real and deep anguish. Becoming God's own prayer in this world is both hallowing and harrowing, often at the very same time. When Jesus said, "I did not come to bring peace but a sword!" he might very well have been speaking, for those called to it, of the significantly growth-full moments of eremitical life! Again, this is something of which dioceses and candidates to canon 603 eremitical life must be aware if they are to truly and adequately honor this rare, valuable, and mysterious gift of the Holy Spirit.

20 July 2016

Nothing Can Make up for the Absence of Someone Whom We Love

A couple of years ago or so I wrote about Jesus' cry of abandonment on the cross; I suggested that it was the Holy Spirit, the Spirit of the mutual love of Father and Son  that maintained their bond of love while keeping open the space of terrible separation  experienced as abandonment and occasioning the suffering of both Father and Son which reached its climax on the cross and Jesus' "descent into hell". Both connection and separation are necessary parts of the love relationships constituting Trinitarian life marked by mission to our world and thus, by kenosis eventuating in the cross.

Similarly, in writing about eremitical life I noted that stricter separation from the world was an essential part of maintaining not only one's love for God but also for God's creation because without very real separation we might instead know only enmeshment in that world rather than a real capacity for love which reconciles and brings to wholeness. In everyday terms we know that the deficiencies and losses we experience throughout our lives are things we often try to avoid or fill in every conceivable way rather than to find creative  approaches to genuinely live (and heal) the pain: addictions, deprivations and excesses, denial and distractions, pathological withdrawal or superficial relationships of all kinds attest to the futile and epidemic character of these approaches to the deep and often unmet needs we each experience.

While we may expect our relationship with God to fill these needs and simply take away the pain of loss and grief we are more apt to find God with us IN the pain in a way which, out of a profound love for the whole of who we are and who we are called to become, silently accompanies and consoles without actually diminishing the suffering associated with the loss or unmet needs themselves. In this way God also assures real healing may be sought and achieved. It is a difficult paradox and difficult to state theologically.  Today, I found a quote by Dietrich Bonhoeffer written while he was a political prisoner of the Nazis and separated from everyone and everything he loved --- except God; it captures the insight or principle underlying these observations --- and says it so very well!


Nothing can make up for the absence
of someone whom we love,
and it would be wrong
to try to find a substitute;
we must simply hold out and see it through.
 
That sounds very hard at first,
but at the same time
it is a great consolation,
for the gap --- as long as it
remains unfilled ---
preserves the bond between us.
 
It is nonsense to say that God fills the gap;
God does not fill it
but on the contrary keeps it empty
and so helps us to keep alive
our former communion even
at the cost of pain.
 
from  Letters and Papers From Prison
 "Letter to Renate and Eberhard Bethge: Christmas Eve 1943"
by Dietrich Bonhoeffer
 
 
As a hermit embracing "the silence of solitude" I know full well that this charism of eremitical life is characterized by both connection and separation. It is, as I have written here many times a communion with God which may be lonely --- though ordinarily not a malignant form of loneliness! --- and an aloneness with God which does not simply fill or even replace our needs for friendships and other life giving relationships. Sometimes the pain of separation is more acute and sometimes the consolation of connection eases that almost entirely.

Sometimes, however, the two stand together in an intense and paradoxical form of suffering that simply says, "I am made for fullness of love and eschatological union and am still only (but very really!) journeying towards that." This too is a consolation. Today I am grateful for the bonds of love which enrich my life so --- even when these bonds are experienced as painful absence and emptiness. I think this is a critical witness of eremitical life with its emphasis on "the silence of solitude" --- just as it is in monastic (or some forms of religious) life more generally. Thanks be to God.

16 February 2016

More on the Roman Catholic Canon 603 versus the Anglican canon 14.3

[[Dear Sister, I understand you feel the Anglican Canon is inadequate to guide those living an eremitical life. Do you think maybe the Episcopal Church doesn't mean it to guide eremitical lives? Maybe they only wanted to allow for individual religious without the interference of others. Maybe their solitaries don't think of themselves as hermits or at least maybe this doesn't happen a lot.]] (Second set of questions included below.)

I don't really know what most Episcopalian solitaries think of themselves. However, besides the criticism by an Anglican solitary regarding 95 % of solitaries who misleadingly call themselves hermits that I referred to here before, I have read blogs by those who think of the terms solitary and hermit as synonyms. (See also the references to one Anglican solitary and an Orthodox solitary who disagree with the notion that the two terms are synonymous at the end of this question's response.)

Hermits and Solitaries as Synonymous:

One Episcopal solitary, for instance, in responding to the question, [[What is a Solitary?]]  writes, [[ A Solitary is the modern name for a Hermit. . . . They are monks and nuns who are under vows held by a bishop instead of the superior of a community, and they are professed to be single [religious] and not a part of a community. Since the married state is a form of community, Solitaries are, by definition, celibate.]]  In this passage I think it is clear that the author sees hermits simply as "single religious", that is religious who do not belong to a community.

Later, when asked how one received training as a solitary he responds that it is the novitiate (that is, in religious community) which is indispensable. When he notes that one may then decide that one is called to go in a solitary direction, there is absolutely nothing implied in the use of the term "solitary" besides being a religious who then goes apart from a community, nor that (once one has sufficient human formation in community of whatever kind) one can only be prepared for eremitical life in solitude itself. Even later he does write that a hermit needs to ALSO spend some significant time in solitude during formation but the sense given is that this is additional to the more critical novitiate and optional, not integral to the life of a hermit. Unfortunately, a hermit is defined by this solitary as a religious who is single, that is, not part of a community. (In fact, this blogger writes that hermits are professed to NOT belong to a community --- as though this negative criterion is the real point and content of their profession! He opines this means ANY community including a parish community and thus, in this way too he underscores the individualistic character of the Anglican vocation.)

Maggie Ross (Sister Martha Reeves), a well-known Anglican solitary and fine writer, writes somewhat similarly when she observes that we are all solitaries or that there is nothing particularly unusual about hermits. [[We have made everything about the church much too exotic and the solitary life is an extreme example of this. The solitary is saying, "everyone is a solitary; in that inner solitude is the kingdom of heaven; don't be afraid, behold." ]] While I agree completely that solitude is the most universal vocation in the sense that we are each and all of us irreducibly solitary in our historical existence and while I think we are pretty close together with regard to her comments on inner solitude, where we differ is in her application of the terms "a solitary" and hermit.

While we may all be solitary, not everyone is "a solitary" in the vocational sense. Neither are all of us called to be hermits nor can we all be called hermits despite the ontological or existential solitude that marks us or the inner solitude of our hearts.**  Nor is it the case then that hermits are common-place, or that eremitical life and solitariness itself are identical realities. A piece of the desert vocation of the hermit is certainly its witness to the ontological solitariness of human being and even more fundamentally it witnesses to the communion between (union of) God and human beings that constitutes the human person. Beyond this, however, it witnesses to the redemption that occurs when human aloneness or solitariness is completed by that communion and is thus transfigured into eremitical solitude; further, it does so in a life wholly dedicated to God in the silence of solitude --- something few are called to do with their lives. In this way especially, the hermit represents a special and relatively rare commission to participate in the ministry of reconciliation to which every Christian is called.

In these two cases it appears that Anglican usage treats the terms  solitary and hermit as synonyms. Sister Reeves also seems to agree with you that solitary life is one which is so autonomous that there should be no interference from hierarchy or the Church at large. Apparently she argues this to support the freedom of the "hermit" and the prophetic character of the vocation (which seems to mean the person is in a position to criticize the Church in various ways.) It does seem to be fairly individualistic in her conception --- and even adverting to the role of the Holy Spirit in such a life, critical as that is, does not really compel one to believe the Episcopalian model of solitary religious or eremitical life is other than individualistic. The way the two terms are collapsed into one another, whether one starts with ontological solitude as Sister Martha does, or with "single religious life" as Br Randy does, simply underscores that fact.

Ignorance of the Nature and Charism of Eremitical Life:

Even more startling to me are Br Randy's following comments. Despite identifying himself as a canonical hermit with more than ten years in perpetual vows and a number more in temporary vows he writes, [[I know absolutely nothing about what a hermit is and don't claim to. I have experience of what it is for me to live the life of a hermit, but no imperical (sic) knowledge. What I claim to believe may change from time to time.]] How can this be the case? How can, even in what may really be a confusing nod to Apophatic theology, a publicly professed, or canonical hermit claim to know absolutely nothing about what a hermit is? From my perspective such a confession is genuinely stupefying. How, after all, can a person claim to be living as a hermit, be professed to live into this vocation more and more fully and yet have absolutely no idea what it means to BE a hermit? More troubling yet, how can a Church perpetually  profess someone in this situation --- or not dispense their vows if, over such a significant period of time, this is the confession the person is forced to make??

It is one thing to say, "I know in general what a hermit is; I know what this vocation expects of me and what I am professed to live and I both grow in and fall short of this vision every day of my life." It is another to say, "I have absolutely no idea what a hermit is!" Even the confession of having fallen short of one's profession depends on one knowing what it means to BE what one is professed to be! Imagine that a priest (or a candidate for ordination!) said this about his vocation. Would we ordain him? For that matter, what if I came to my Bishop, asked him to perpetually profess me as a solitary hermit under c 603 and then, as he asked me to discuss the gift this vocation would be to the church and world, I confessed I actually had no clue what a hermit actually was? Likewise, what if someone asked to be professed under canon 603 and, when asked about the canon she proposed to live her life by, showed no sense of ever having read it, much less having allowed it to define and shape her entire life! In this confession the author not only underscores the completely individualistic nature of his vocation but, in something I find even more troubling, he seems especially unaware of the charismatic nature of the eremitical vocation. What I mean is there is simply no indication in his comments that he possesses an understanding or appreciation of the very specific gift of the Holy Spirit this calling is to the Church whose mission is to proclaim the Gospel to our contemporary world.

At the very least I think we have to conclude the Anglican canon #14 is not generally used to profess individuals who have experienced and can actually witness to the gift (charisma) or specific gift quality (charism) of eremitical life. That is especially true if, as I argue often here, the charism of eremitical life is "the silence of solitude". There is evidence that generally the Anglican (Episcopal) Church treats the term hermit as a synonym for solitary and even for "single (non communal) religious". As such they build a basic misunderstanding into their use of Canon 14 to profess lone individuals as "hermits." In a world where exaggerated individualism is a critical problem that betrays the very nature of humanity, this basic misunderstanding is a correlative betrayal of eremitical life's witness to a solitude defined in terms of personal completion and rest achieved in union with God alone. Such a solitude differs radically from individualism or individual isolation. If this skewed portrait is NOT the vision of eremitical life they wish canon 14.3 to govern it does seem to me they are failing to provide a normative vision which would serve them better. As I understand the situation there is no other canon (norm) which does provide such a vision.

(I find the posts of one Anglican religious solitary under c14 refreshing here. Amma Sue, the author of the blog www.singleconsecratedlife-anglican.org is such a solitary and is very clear that she is not a hermit while she writes some about the "qualitative distinction" between herself and hermits. (She claims to quote me in this article but to be honest, except for the term "silence of solitude," and a reference to solitude as communion, I don't find my own words in what she writes.) She is cited in the exceptional blog City Desert (cf CityDesert on Solitary religious Life ). CityDesert (named after the classic by Derwas Chitty) focuses on solitary life in its variety of forms, especially as these are translated into contemporary situations and terms, and is always a wealth of information. Its author is a priest in the Oriental Orthodox Tradition who lives as an urban solitary in a city in Australia)

[[Should the Roman Catholic Church add a canon like the Anglican Church? Do you think it's a good idea to have [single] religious? I am thinking that if the RCC did this we could increase vocations and also those who don't feel called to eremitical solitude could still be professed.]]

One thing I think should be clear. When the Roman Catholic Church establishes a vocation to the consecrated life she does so because she has recognized a way of living which is a specific and significant gift of the Holy Spirit. A charism is the result of the inspiration of the Holy Spirit meeting the needs of the contemporary world. When these two dimensions intersect, individuals may recognize that their own lives replicate the same needs and the same inspiration. Alternately, a person may perceive that their own gifts and talents are such that they may help the Church mediate the Spirit's Presence in ways which heal and transform the world into one shot through with the presence of God. In other words, these individuals recognize they are called to embody this specific charism (or gift) in ways the world urgently needs it. At times the Church re-establishes vocations or specifies them as states of perfection because of their value in proclaiming the Gospel in the contemporary world. She does not do so otherwise.

Remember that when the Church reprised the eremitical vocation and decided to admit solitary hermits to public vows and the consecrated state she did so in part because at Vatican Council II Bishop Remi de Roo published an intervention listing about a half dozen positive reasons for doing so, a half dozen ways in which the vocation represented the work of the Holy Spirit and was a gift to the Church and world. When the Church and her hermits look at the individualism rampant in the world or the growing isolation of so many elderly, bereaved, chronically ill, etc, they are also able to see that hermits (those who live the charism of the silence of solitude and the rest of the vision of c 603) speak to these persons with a particular vividness. They proclaim the redemption of isolation and its transformation into solitude in Christ.

Similarly, when the Church reprised the vocation of Consecrated Virgins living in the world she did so in part as a reflection of a newer (and more Biblical)  eschatology where heaven and earth interpenetrated more and more, where secular vocations were being re-valued, and where there was a serious need for a vocation of eschatological or consecrated secularity which reflected all this in ways religious life per se could not. Thus, the Church did not ask CV's to make religious vows which distanced them from or qualified their relationship with the secular world in significant ways. Instead she consecrated them as Brides of Christ and icons of the whole Church; she consecrated them to embody the relationship with Christ every person is ultimately called to, but commissioned them to do so here and now in every possible way and arena, i.e., "in the things of the world and the things of the spirit." Likewise, in a world whose nearly entire approach to sexuality involves its trivialization and profanation, CVs living in the world are called to be a witness to a counter-cultural reality in which sex is held to be sacred (and even sacramental) and the whole person is to be given to Christ for the sake of others. 

While both eremitism and consecrated virginity are ancient vocations the Church did not restore them for this reason alone, nor because, relatively speaking, a few people felt called to them. She did so because they represented gifts of the Holy Spirit which spoke powerfully to the needs of our contemporary Church and world. This is the way the Church always determines authentic vocations. Numbers per se are not the issue nor are the private vocational senses of individuals. Discernment of ecclesial vocations is always a mutual matter with both the Church and the candidate discerning such a vocation and this mutual discernment always includes an assessment of the charismatic significance and impact of the vocation.

Therefore, to answer your questions, unless the Church determines "single religious" (who are non-eremitical) represent a similar vocation representing a significant charism, there is no reason to think the Church should or will establish it canonically. Since canon 14.3, seems, in a clearly individualistic impulse, to be merely meant to create "single religious" with no necessary commitments to others in community, no intrinsic, much less defining sense of ecclesial responsibility or relatedness ("a solitary is professed to NOT be part of any community including a parish community"), and no sense of living a very specific and specifically valuable gift of the Holy Spirit either, I would argue that this is not an example the Roman Catholic Church would want or feel much drawn to follow.

** Sister Martha has apparently been questioned about this position that we are each "a solitary". She also wrote at another point in her blog, [[I have, for a long time, been saying that 'we are all solitaries'. And this is true: communities of all kinds are only as healthy as the solitudes that make them up; and those solitudes have the responsibility to the community to do the work that will help them to be spiritually mature. But that does not mean that everyone who likes their solitude should take vows. You can be ihidaye, have singleness of heart, within a marriage, community, and even alone in the woods. It does not mean you are 'a solitary' or should or, more importantly, could, from an eremitical point of view, make vows.]] I believe Sister Martha is right here and should retain the vocabulary of solitudes v solitaries. We are all existential "solitudes" --- a philosophical term reflecting our ontic state, but only some of us are solitaries --- a religious term which can include hermits, anchorites, and recluses.

11 February 2016

Questions on the Charism of the Diocesan Hermit

[[ Hi Sister, you write about the charism of the diocesan hermit. I understand part of that is that you are diocesan and part of that is that you live the silence of solitude (or at least are committed to living it). It seems to me like these are different charisms. Can you explain how they fit together? Also is it true that every hermit is his or her own charism? I read that a few years ago and I wondered what it meant.]]

Thanks for writing. I suppose that when I first began thinking about the charism of the diocesan hermit I wrote about their standing as diocesan as a main piece of the gift their lives were to both Church and world. Over time I began to work out more fully the place of the silence of solitude in all of this and it is certain that today, while I believe one's diocesan standing is important, it is the silence of solitude I point to as not only the environment and the goal of eremitical life, but also the gift quality or charism of such a life. So important do I consider this that when I rewrote my Rule a few years ago I extended the section on the silence of solitude from these three vantage points. However, I don't think the two things conflict.

Instead, I think the diocesan context of canon 603 hermits underscores the importance, possibility, and necessity of the silence of solitude whether one lives in an urban hermitage or in a hermitage in the mountains or desert. It especially underscores the possibility of achieving this eremitical goal and making a gift of it within the context of the local diocesan and even the parish Church instead of within a religious order or other institute devoted to eremitical life. Thus, while I wouldn't say diocesan standing and responsibility within the local Church is incidental to the charism of the diocesan hermit's life, neither, do I think, it constitutes the heart of the charism of her vocation. Still, one of the places I believe the diocesan character of an eremitical vocation under c 603 most clearly benefits the Church and especially protects the charism of solitary eremitical lives is in regard to urban hermits.

You see, I firmly believe that urban life militates against what canon 603 calls the silence of solitude. It is geared to alienation and isolation, and certainly, it is geared to layers of noise piled on layers of noise. It is not geared to the covenant-relatedness Christians identify with real individuality, nor to the authentic relatedness that that silent union with God makes possible and necessary. There is a reason Thomas Merton referred to the unnatural solitudes of slums and I extend that term to urban settings more generally. There is a reason monastic communities tend to build and establish themselves far from city centers. It is not that God and communion with God in the silence of solitude cannot be found here. These certainly can, but at the same time, there is a constant pull and pressure from urban reality which really does militate against these.

When canon 603 was first promulgated bishops in various places forbade hermits from living in urban hermitages. Meanwhile, already-established hermits criticized "urban hermitages" as oxymorons. However, our God is the God of Presence in the ordinary, the God of sacramental reality who transfigures the profane into living symbols (mediators) of his holiness; "he" transforms the muteness and isolation of urban life into a Magnificat of God's grace. What better witness to this amazing transformation could there be than a solitary hermit in an urban hermitage? The diocesan hermit living in a mainly urban or suburban diocese is called precisely to this specific witness. It is the presence of the hermit in the local Church --- whatever the nature of that local Church --- which is a charismatic presence and reminder of the sacramental character of our faith and the transfiguring power of the God who is met in silence and solitude.

Are hermits their own Charism? 

The idea that every hermit is his or her own charism is a little strange to me  (it seems too individualistic!) --- especially since c 603 hermits live according to a specific definition of eremitical life which embodies certain values without fail. It seems to me that it is the vocation as such that is the charism, and especially as defined under Canon 603. I do accept that each solitary hermit will live this out in her own way, with the flexibility the Spirit requires and inspires. Even so, as I wrote sometime a number of months ago, even when every fingerprint is unique they share commonalities, whorls and loops, ridges and valleys which make them fingerprints and not something else. Thus, I believe every hermit will represent the charism called "the silence of solitude," in a Church and world which cries out for such a gift of God.

At the same time, those with chronic illness will give a slightly (or even a very) different shape or color to this reality than the hermit who is young and healthy, for instance. The individual's own personal characteristics and life circumstances will shape the way the charism is embodied. The life and prayer of the hermit who once was married and may have raised a family will color this gift in a different way with her life than will the hermit who once belonged to a religious congregation and moved to solitude from there, for example. The lay or clerical hermit who is not consecrated under canon 603 will witness to this charism in somewhat different ways than the consecrated hermit. The vocation's charism remains the silence of solitude (the quies and resulting capacity for parrhesia --- bold and even prophetic speech --- which comes from life in communion with God) but this amazing gem will have a variety of facets and each hermit will emphasize or articulate one or another of these more and differently than other hermits will.

One of the reasons I argue in this way is because charisms are the result of a combination or intersection of the Holy Spirit's movement and inspiration with the world's needs. A charism is larger than an individual's life and greater than the individual's own gifts and talents. In a world fraught with covenant and relationship-destroying individualism it hardly makes sense that the Holy Spirit would inspire a kind of paradigmatic individualism by making each hermit a kind of law unto him/herself. So, yes, I do agree each hermit, to the extent his/her life evidences God's redemption in Christ, is a gift to the Church and world and a sharer in the incredibly significant and prophetic character of the desert tradition, but it is the vocation as such or something characteristic of the vocation, not the individual's eccentricities, which is dignified with the term "charism". Instead, the charism is shared and uniquely embodied by all who are called to eremitical life in the Church.

It is not unusual to hear people claim that every hermit is different, every hermit is absolutely unique and that legislating for hermits is a futile (or necessarily distorting) exercise similar to herding cats. Anglican solitaries argue this way, the author of the very fine blog City Desert has written about dimensions of this in The Hermit in Roman Catholic Canon Law. Of course, every hermit is a unique embodiment of the charism of eremitical life. But when one maintains a radical distinction and uniqueness to the exclusion of identity, continuity, and an essential sameness one has also eviserated any charism or even the possibility of charism by ensuring the Holy Spirit's inspiration does not intersect in any meaningful way with the deep needs of the rest of the Church and world. Instead one ensures what might be profoundly prophetic is merely novel and tangential --- and therefore incapable of addressing others, much less of summoning them to greater authenticity in Christ.

There is a paradox here (isn't there always?!), namely, the unique and prophetic charism of the hermit is lost the moment she ceases to be an integral member of the Church. Just as an answer must be integrally related to the question that calls for and needs it to really BE an answer, a statement that ceases to be related to a question in any meaningful way ceases to be an answer, and especially it ceases to be an answer that drives the question beyond itself to even greater and deeper questions. When the only thing we hold in common is our uniqueness (or our solitariness), we will cease to be able to relate to one another, much less embody and be a gift of the Holy Spirit to others!

For these reasons, it is interesting to me that your question refers to a hermit being "her own" charism. That is, it seems to me, the one thing a hermit must never be. She is meant to be a gift to others and more, a gift of the Holy Spirit to and from the Church to others. She is meant to embody a charism that is never merely "her own" even while it reflects the deepest truth of her life and self. When Peter Damian speaks of the hermit as "ecclesiola" he is referring both to her individual identity and to her profound relatedness to the Body of Christ. Remove either element and you have lost any notion of charism, much less the charism of eremitical life.