On Community and the Hermit, part 1

[[Hi Sister, I have a question that may seem odd, perhaps even funny, but I ask it in all seriousness.
Should hermits have friends? I know there are lots of admonishments in monastic literature against having "particular friendships" etc. that could take away from community life, but a hermit has no community in that same sense. Scripture teachings that its not good for humans to be alone, so community of some sort is necessary for our emotional and spiritual well-being. What does community look like for a hermit? ]]

No, I understand this is a serious question; it's also a critically important one, especially when, as you note, some literature and praxis on the spiritual life was tainted by blanket prohibitions against "particular friendships", etc. I have written about hermits and the importance of friendships before in  several posts, so please check out the labels below. Also you might want to look at the following article. Hermits and Friendships. I am not sure I can add lots to it in answering your questions but we will see.

First, the focus on "particular friendships" is something I experienced first hand when I initially entered religious life and it was something which was quite often destructive rather than helpful in the spiritual life. Today we recognize clearly that vows of celibate love (consecrated celibacy or 'chastity') require affective maturity and the richness of loving generously and chastely; all that will necessarily mean friendships! It goes without saying that these friendships must also be mature, neither exclusive nor grounded in either (or both!) persons' neediness (which is not the same thing as a need for mature friendship!), and they must be focused in a way which allows each person to grow in their capacity as a human being and thus too, in their vocations. Enmeshment is not true friendship, nor is it really loving. It also goes without saying then that friendships cannot (and when genuine, will not) detract from one's vocation. This, especially for the hermit, comes with its own set of tensions, uncommon limitations, and difficulties --- particularly when one person in the relationship is a hermit and the other is not. However, negotiating these in a loving and mature way is part and parcel of the healthy eremitical vocation; eschewing them or simply ruling out friendships and other relationships entirely is not.

While I cannot say what community looks like generally for a solitary hermit, I can point to some of the dimensions of it in my own life. In this way perhaps I can eventually describe what is essential, what is exceptional, and what must be sacrificed for what eremitical life calls "the silence of solitude" and "stricter separation from the world" (being careful to understand that other people or relationships per se are NOT "the world"!!). In my own life there are a circle of close friends with whom I can discuss or share whatever I need to and who can share with me as they need. We may go to an occasional concert or movie or dinner out for birthdays or major holidays (Christmas, Easter), etc, and in one instance, we two meet for Mass and coffee most Sundays during the school year.  In this post I will focus on them only.

I count among this group my delegate and director (Sister of the Holy Family), a Dominican Sister, my pastor (Oblate of St Francis de Sales), a Franciscan Sister (whom I have seen in person a mere handful of times in the past two decades), and two friends from the parish. Additionally there is one diocesan hermit from another country; we don't speak or write often but when we do there is a lot of laughter and we pick up as though there was no gap in time. At present I don't have a regular confessor but even so, each of these persons understands my vocation and helps me to live it with integrity. Each adds to it in a number of ways, challenging me, filling me in on things I might otherwise be unaware of, instructing me, calling me to love and be loved. Generally they are folks I can talk with about the Church, prayer, theology, religious life and the vows, Scripture, spirituality more generally, as well as literature, music, etc. In the time between meetings they hold me in prayer and I do likewise with them. They are the sort of "inner circle" within the community I count on.

What is true and critical about this circle of friends is that they understand and value me and my vocation in a way others cannot. (Others I will also mention later value me and my vocation but in a different way.) Most (all but two) are religious and all but one of these do spiritual direction or pastoral counseling. Thus, most are vowed, all have significant prayer lives and appreciate the dynamics of physical solitude/concrete loving and contemplation/action as fundamental in their own lives.  For each of these persons Christ stands at the center of their lives. We (mainly) speak the same language spiritually, theologically, professionally, and humanly. In my own life I would have to say that these friendships are critically necessary. I do not know if my eremitical life would be a healthy one without them --- though I personally suspect it would not. While in most cases we don't see each other often, we do tend to pick up where we left off even as we try to hear about where the other person has been in the intervening space of time. What I can say about this group of people is that they are a daily source of joy and richness for me as well as of challenge and inspiration. That is so even when it will be days, weeks, months, or even years before I see them again. (We do email and/or write regularly. We also phone or skype occasionally.)

I suppose it is clear that this group of people are a fairly select group. One of the reasons they are so important to me is because each of them understands and has made  and routinely makes sacrifices for the sake of their commitment to Christ; they are neither dismayed nor surprised by my own. Instead they expect these and would be surprised if they did NOT exist. All both are and have good friends but all have significant limitations on how often they see these friends and each one makes sacrifices so their time together is quality time. We share the same vows and values which tends to mean we appreciate the same things, read the same books (or at least the same authors), are interested in the same Church-related topics and concerns, spend money (or try not to spend money!) in mainly the same ways, and so forth. More, we tend to laugh a lot when we are together and cry together when necessary. Prayer is a way of life for each of us and their presence in my life (and I hope mine in theirs) is humanizing and holy-making. Most of these people have community obligations and commitments --- people they love and serve as Sisters and Brothers --- as well as active ministry and prayer lives to keep up. Most are in or have been in leadership and formation in their own communities so you can imagine how full their lives are. My own commitment to the silence of solitude (and all that makes that what it is) as well as my own SD ministry and limited parish service takes the place of these in my own life so when we are able to get together it is a priority --- and a gift of God.

This is the first part of my answer to your questions. While this group is not all the community that exists in my life it is the most profound and intimate, the most challenging, and the most enriching in terms of my life as a religious and hermit. In the main these persons' dedication to Christ and his People (meaning the way they give their lives for love of these through a variety of spiritual traditions and ministries) inspire (and empower) me to live the same way --- though as a hermit who also stands in the Camaldolese tradition. And that, it seems to me, is the essence of community (or the most intimate friendship!) for anyone who seeks to follow Christ.

You may have more specific questions than I have answered here. If so be sure and clarify things for me and I will answer those in the second part. (It occurs to me that what I wrote about this year's retreat also gives a glimpse into the importance of friends and the nature of community for a hermit so take a look at that as well.)

On Professing Someone who does not Desire it

[[Hi Sister Laurel. Did your Bishop desire you to become a diocesan hermit? Is it possible that a Bishop would ASK someone to petition to be accepted as a diocesan hermit? I have read that a Bishop might desire this for the diocese and could do so even if the individual is not interested in becoming a diocesan hermit. Does this happen? A lot?]]

I think that I have been asked something similar before. If so this answer may repeat some of my earlier answer. Please check through the labels (below and to the right) so see if other posts also speak to these questions. (Actually I am now fairly certain I have done so some time last year or so; I would suggest looking under the labels authentic and inauthentic eremitism and/or abuses of canon 603 to find related posts.)

The idea of someone becoming a diocesan hermit simply because a bishop personally desires it is VERY unlikely! Moreover, the notion that a bishop would desire someone to do this even if they do NOT feel called to it themselves is even more completely unlikely --- not least because it is a silly and at least potentially, a seriously destructive way to proceed with regard to this specific vocation. (Actually, it's not a particularly desirable or edifying way to proceed with any vocation (consider marriage undertaken in this way for a great sense of SOME of the problems involved), but I would argue it is especially undesirable and disedifying with eremitical life!) Bishops, while they might say to someone, "Have you ever considered becoming a priest or religious (including a diocesan hermit), etc?" do not tend to ask someone out of the blue to consider becoming a diocesan hermit; it is altogether too rare, too significant, and too different from the way most folks are brought to wholeness and holiness --- which really means too different from the way human beings ordinarily learn to love and achieve genuine integration and individuation.

A candidate for profession and consecration really MUST have the sense that God is calling them to this and they must be able to make a convincing case of that for the diocese and bishop before being admitted to profession. More, I think the individual MUST take the initiative in this. It cannot be the decision of a director, et al to discern or seek this on behalf of another, nor can a person legitimately or validly approach profession while saying, "I am doing this because my Bishop desires it!" Thus I would have to say the most a Bishop can do (if he even has the opportunity, which is hard to imagine) is to say, "Your life strikes me as implicitly eremitical; why don't you pray and do some studying about the matter of vocation as a diocesan hermit? I will do the same."

I am not sure I understand the part of the question about desiring this for the diocese, or at least, it seems a little "off" to me. I suppose it reminds me of the practice once common in old English gardens; on large estates, no estate garden was complete without its ornamental "hermit". Of course I believe that a diocesan hermit is a gift to her parish and diocese and that that indicates that God has graced the life of these with an eremitical vocation, but it is not as though one can say, "Hmmm, I want some of THESE graces for the diocese so I will ask so-and-so to become a diocesan hermit!" Graces are shared manifestations of God's very self, not bits of "stuff" that can be separated off from the living God and stored up or parceled out or anything similar. The Holy Spirit works in individual lives in all kinds of ways and it is this active presence we call grace; when a diocese recognizes and affirms an eremitical vocation of course I think that is wonderful, but one cannot simply make someone a hermit (or ask them to become one!) because one would like "the graces associated with this" or something. That smacks more of the shopping network than (attention to) the work of the Holy Spirit.

Having said that though, let me also say I wish dioceses were more knowledgeable about and more open to the eremitical vocations in their midst. For instance, where I live there are any number of elderly people who live physically solitary and intensely prayerful lives who might well have eremitical vocations that could serve both the parish and the diocese as a whole as lives of real marginality, chronic illness, poverty, etc are radically transformed, consecrated in a public way, and set before the faith community as paradigms of the truth that God alone suffices. While such lives are (and would remain) marginal in the ways the world measures things they would assume a public place and role right in the very heart of the Church and be a resource even these individuals themselves never imagined. Their illnesses don't need to be healed, their poverty relieved, or their marginality eased as part of this radical transformation. Instead these things would be redeemed by God's consecration of them and made infinitely meaningful pointers to (sacramentals of) a joy and significance which goes beyond anything our world ordinarily imagines them to be or mediate. But, let me be clear, I do not mean that every elderly or chronically ill person should do this as a hermit much less as a diocesan hermit; still, I believe that dioceses have greater numbers of potential hermits living within them than they might realize --- genuine eremitical vocations which are already an unrecognized grace to parishes and dioceses but whose potential meaningfulness and fruitfulness is yet unknown to the local (or the universal) Church.

You ask if a Bishop can profess (and eventually consecrate) someone who does not wish this. The answer is simply NO --- at least not if he is acting responsibly and in a truly pastoral way (I am assuming he is!). As noted above, I wonder if such a profession is even canonically valid in such a case. As I have written many times here, ecclesial vocations are mutually discerned. One cannot proclaim oneself a religious or a consecrated person via a private dedication (that way lies self-delusion and pretense) nor can the Church profess and consecrate someone either against their will nor unless that person is also genuinely convinced this is the will and call of God for them. To attempt to do so is to sin against conscience and possibly involves one in a kind of sacrilege as one demeans not only a particular vocation but the entire rite of profession/consecration.

There is a strain in hagiographical writing which focuses on the unwillingness of individuals to embrace vocations to religious life and/or priesthood. It has sometimes tended to validate discernment of vocations --- a kind of psychologically and spiritually naive, "Well I know I didn't want this so it must be God's will" kind of thing. (It can sometimes be used to underscore a skewed notion of obedience and quasi-humility in a kind of martyred, "Well, the idea really is unpleasant for me but if my Bishop desires it, then I'll do it!" But in point of fact, we know that this is really not the way vocations generally work; radical conversion, perhaps to an extent --- at least in the beginning --- but vocations? Not really. The deeper and more compelling dynamic in vocations is always a deep attraction or yearning.  (By the way, I understand it is a bit false and impossible to tease vocation and conversion apart from one another in this way, but it is necessary in this context.) With the eremitical vocation, if one does not truly have the sense it is the way to human wholeness and holiness for them, if, that is, one does not really believe God is calling one to this as an amazing grace which redeems their lives and is a way of being there for others, and especially if one says, "No! This is NOT for me; I don't want this, it is even a bit repugnant to me!" then it is NOT their vocation!

Vocations are not a way we simply come to terms with God's will, especially with a grudging, foot-dragging, half-hearted,"Oh-all-right-I'll-go-along-with-this" acquiescence. Vocations are the deeply joy-filled ways we cooperate with God's life within us and our world. They make us profoundly happy and fulfilled in a way which sustains us in even the most painful situations which still befall us. This profound happiness or joy shines through even in the darkness; more it (and the call it stems from) is the ground which sustains one at these times. There is a great difference between someone who bitches and moans about how awful their life is, how difficult or arduous their vocation, how much pain they are in, how routinely rejected they are, or how endlessly God tests them --- who then ends this grim disquisition with the postscript, "God is love; how I love to do God's will!" and the person whose main life-theme is a deep joy while very real pain, difficulty, or rejection experienced are merely subtexts! Vocations are demanding realities, but they are not difficult in themselves. What I mean is that they present us with difficulties and may trouble us at times in heart and mind, but of themselves, they are a joy and gift which makes all the rest shine with the radiance of God.

The notion that a vocation (meaning here a vocational path like religious life) can be used to hide profound human unhappiness and dysfunction is something we are all the more sensitive to today. We know more clearly than we have ever known that this must NEVER be the case. After all, every vocation is a call to authentic, exhaustively loving and generous humanity. A vocational path must surely be a means to this. In referring to hiding profound unhappiness or dysfunction then, I am not speaking about dealing appropriately (and privately) with the more normal times of depression, mental illness, etc which can afflict every human life. I am speaking about covering profound unhappiness and personal dysfunction with the trappings of a vocation. That strain of hagiographical writing I spoke of earlier has provided some with the grounds for this misguided approach. So has the notion of higher vocations and a tendency to absolutely separate the supernatural from the natural, the eternal from the temporal, or the divine from the human. In eremitical life this tendency becomes even more acutely dangerous because for most people living in solitude is itself dysfunctional and can be used to escape or run from the demons which inhabit every human heart. It can be used to make of the hermitage an escape from the whole of God's good creation and the requirements of a heart which is only purified in loving and being loved by God and others. To profess and consecrate someone who is really profoundly unhappy and may be even MORE profoundly unhappy (and increasingly dysfunctional) in solitude is a serious failure in charity.


Postscript: (I forgot to answer this part of your question)

About whether or not my Bishop desired me to become a diocesan hermit I have to say I don't really know. Certainly I believe he had discerned this was what God was calling me to. Similarly I believe he discerned it was a gift to my parish, the diocese, and even to the wider Church. Finally I don't think he did something he did not desire to do in this, but at the same time, I don't usually think in terms of what Archbishop Vigneron desired or did not desire. This is important because if my eremitical life is a matter of discernment then many niggling questions and problems melt away with profession and consecration. If it had merely been something my Bishop (and I!) desired, then it actually raises questions, creates difficulties, and certainly it would heighten the niggling questions that would have remained on the day of profession. Let me know if you want me to say more about this.

On Belonging vs Fitting In

One of the questions I get asked in various ways has to do with "fitting in". Some wonder if a hermit could really fit in with other parishioners, and, if the hermit is a consecrated hermit with public vows, if they can fit in with lay people. Recently the question came up in a rather humorous way when one blogger opined that perhaps it is harder for a hermit to "fit in" if no one knows she is a hermit; if, the blogger suggested, one is known to others as a hermit then folks can accommodate her a little better; one wondered if this meant making allowances for the hermit's  eccentricities (it sounded that way to me); it certainly meant, as was explicitly suggested, that folks could consider the hermit's "differences" to be part and parcel of belonging to a different vocational category within the Church. In any case what was at least implicit in all of the comments I read, including these, was the fact that this blogger believed hermits are really kind of strange folks who are different from ordinary people and really do not "fit in" unless helped along in some significant way! So, last Friday as I was having coffee with some of the folks who attend daily Mass and get together on Fridays after the service, I asked if they had been accommodating me (cutting me some slack was the way I put it) for the past seven or eight years because they know I am a diocesan hermit! This got a great and gratifying round of laughter. One person pointed out she thought it was often the other way around! And of course the mutuality of all this is exactly the point (more about that later!).

The question of "fitting in" is a serious one and though I am speaking mainly about hermits here this is true for everyone. In this blogger's piece (and others written in the same vein), being a hermit is also linked to the idea that stands on the other end of the "fitting in "pendulum, namely, the idea not that a hermit is eccentric and needs to be accommodated for her various personal quirks and deficiencies, but that they are spiritually superior in some way. (Of course the two could -- and in this same blogger's view --- do coincide if the hermit is given to unusual "spiritual" experiences AND thought she was somehow superior because of this.)

A corollary for those holding this side of the question (the hermit is spiritually superior)  is the suggestion that a parish is no fit place for religious or even lay hermits whose primary community would ordinarily be the parish. This is supposedly so because of the (mistaken) notion that a parish is tailored to the lowest spiritual denominator or is a place where folks don't want "more" or are not particularly hungry for the nourishment of the Gospel and a serious spirituality. While it IS true that not everyone attending necessarily wants what is offered and some are definitely only nominal Christians, I don't think we can draw such simplistic conclusions, especially when they are given a kind of Gnostic or elitist cast. In that case, the question can be an even more seriously misguided one than the notion of parishes accommodating the supposed weirdnesses of individual hermits! Both conclusions build on stereotypes and both mistake the place and the challenge of any Christian in a faith community. After all, life in community of ANY sort but especially that of Christian community is not primarily about "fitting in" but BELONGING and making others aware that they too belong or are welcome to belong. Again, this is, of course, true for anyone --- not just hermits.

My own sense is that truly "fitting in" is a function of and always follows belonging, not (at least in an authentically Christian community!) the other way around!  It occurs to me that when we think about the ways of the Kingdom vs the ways of " the world" we really are talking about which of these terms has priority, fitting in or belonging. In the Kingdom one belongs because God has freely invited, initiated, and welcomed one into the Kingdom; God has, in the process, changed the way we think, feel, perceive and relate to reality --- especially to others we might otherwise consider different, "alien," or strangers -- but we ALL belong because God has welcomed us.

The change that occurs in us then, it seems to me, has occurred through our belonging -- belonging to God, to one another, and no longer exclusively to ourselves. A Kingdom identity is familial; it is rooted in a love which embraces all differences and diversity. How often does Paul speak about this to his troublesome Corinthian community? But putting the accent on "fitting in," making that a precondition for belonging is a matter of what ancient writer would call "worldly thinking." It is other things too: elitist, self-aggrandizing or arrogant (one's own nature, attributes, preferences, etc are made the criterion for approval of others; if they are not like you, then woe in the form of a blackball unto them), and of course it is selfish, exclusionary, uncharitable, unjust (remember that love does justice!)  and simply contrary to the Gospel Jesus proclaimed with his life, sinful death, resurrection and ascension.

In some ways, although belonging is a gift we give to and receive from others, belonging is more challenging than fitting in. Belonging is deeply and personally costly, fitting in is less so. The expense of fitting in is altogether more superficial and less personally demanding (costly) --- unless of course we are speaking of the costliness of losing our true selves and embracing our false selves. When we belong it is our whole selves that are implicated, not a single set of interests or values, for instance. When we affirm another as belonging we open ourselves to the whole of that person and, at least potentially, must deal with, accept and love the whole of them --- even if they don't "fit" or even believe they can! At the same time, if we choose to belong, we will be obligated to love others in the same way! We can't be elitist ourselves, we can't judge others on the basis of characteristics, attributes, and preferences we find attractive or unattractive. If we belong, belonging is a gift we will give others as well, a quality we will empower in them rooted in our openness to them and our commitment to love them as fully as we are able.

While we invite people to belong, we cannot make it happen. To accept the invitation to belong means to accept the invitation to love and be loved. Many would rather fit in (or insist they never can!) when the real problem, the true issue is these persons refusal to love or be loved. They wrap themselves in their differences and eccentricities like a cloak or a shield marking either their supposed "superiority" (including "spiritual superiority") or their fear of vulnerability and lack of generosity. Belonging requires a real humility which cannot be faked (cf. Abba Motius on Humility); it is this fundamentally honest sense of self in relation to God and others which grounds and allows both vulnerability and generosity. At the same time then belonging --- or encouraging another to allow themselves to belong is not the same as saying, "Anything goes," or "The sky's the limit!" It is not the same as saying, "You need do nothing at all!" To belong and invite another to belong is to say, "Whatever ways you 'fit in' in "worldly" terms, and whatever ways you don't, what is critical here is to love and to allow yourself to be loved by others. Nothing else works in a Christian community."

In my parish I think there is no doubt that folks accommodate me in some ways and I them in others (not least re the length of the reflections I occasionally do for them -- they are very patient --- and (sometimes) the degree of conversation and noise that can occur before Mass! --- I am not always so patient with them in this matter). But this has nothing to do with the fact they know I am a hermit. It has to do with the fact that we love one another and accept each other as equally significant members of the community. (By the way, I would personally argue it is charitable for a hermit, no matter whether lay or consecrated, to let others in her faith community know this because the eremitical vocation involves limitations that all in a community need to be aware of lest misunderstandings occur. In the case of a publicly professed hermit, she has embraced an ecclesial vocation with public rights, obligations, and necessary expectations on the part of those who know her and her public commitment. In short it is God's gift to this community and the Church as a whole. It would be irresponsible and more than a little uncharitable to keep her status hidden even if, in the main, her life is essentially so.) 

The bottom line in the discussion at hand however is that we accommodate one another because we are family; we belong to this community and, in a certain sense, to one another. Because of this, any "accommodation" that occurs is not simply a superficial toleration of the person's differences or eccentricities nor is acceptance based on superficial likenesses. Instead accommodation will represent a mutual process involving more profound change on behalf of the other. This kind of accommodation involves changing ourselves so the other CAN belong just as it involves the other in the same conversion and transformation of heart and mind out of love for us. So long as we love one another our differences will be transcended and every diversity can contribute to the sense of the richness and giftedness of this community.

First day of Retreat: Traveling Light, Being Who I am.

One of the pieces of my life, one of the most important dynamics at play and one of the virtues I try to cultivate is transparency. Perhaps that is a contemporary way of speaking about the radical honesty we call humility. In any case, the habit, the cowl or other prayer garment requires that I be aware of any pretense that creeps into things. I am here at the Old Mission Santa Barbara for a week's retreat and that means that when I move from my room to the chapel (or elsewhere) to pray I wear my cowl over my habit. Now, there is nothing unusual in this really, monks and nuns and hermits have been doing it for centuries and centuries in the exact same way day in and day out. But, though I wear the cowl every day at the hermitage and always at liturgical prayer, moving from place to place in it is unusual for me! Add to that the public character of the mission setting and the effect is a little unsettling. And amazing. I am aware every day that I am part of a living tradition, that I do not need to pretend to anything; I simply need to be who I am. Today, I woke (late for me!) with the mission bells and walked in cowl and sandals through the mission on stones that were worn over centuries by all manner of persons. It was hard not to feel a little moved by the whole experience.

And concerned. At least a little at first --- about pretense and fantasy. Imagining the history of this place and the uniqueness of my own garb (though the Friars wear robes over their street clothes too, mine is clearly NOT Franciscan) it was easy to hear in my mind the slap of many friars' sandals and the quiet swish of monastic robes as I walked to chapel for Morning Prayer and Mass. It took a moment before I could actually realize afresh that I am a living part of this tradition, both the Franciscan, the monastic (which Franciscanism itself is not), and the eremitical. And at that point I let go of any remaining concern or self-consciousness. At that moment I prayed in gratitude to God who has allowed me in my own brokenness and littleness to be a graced part of this living stream. I was myself in this new place (it is only the second time I have made retreat here) and was at home.

That sense of being at home, of simply being oneself in Christ and the complete sufficiency of that, was echoed in the Gospel where the disciples are sent forth and told to take nothing extra with them. Our homilist, Fr Charles, drew a lesson from it for us: travel light. Heartache? Troublesome memories? Incomplete plans or unresolved problems? Leave them here (in the chapel and with the others here) today and travel light! (Charles told another great story about a passionate if naïve postulant too which I will save for another time!) So, I have come here, been warmly welcomed by old theology professors (we will make some time to get together for a while this week), old friends (ditto!), and new ones as well; God has welcomed me too with his little nudges about authenticity, transparency, and the wonderful reminder of how graced is my existence as a part of this vital confluence of traditions. How strange (well, wonderfully surprising -- yet again) to think that I never really ceased being Franciscan even as I took on Camaldolese Benedictinism, and how strange to find I really am at home. That sense of belonging wherever we go seems to me to be part of the heart of contemplative prayer and especially of Jesus' injunction to "pray always". In this silence I will be and become more and more the word --- indeed, the song --- I am called to be. What a gift to be able to BE here -- in every sense of that verb!

I will blog when I can and as the Spirit moves me. Writing helps me pray (not least by opening my mind and heart occasionally to the wider world I carry in my heart) so I will play/pray it by ear. I ask that you remember me in your prayers as well.

Letting go of Childish Things

Today's reading from Paul is one of the most beautiful passages about love in all of the Old and New Testa-ments. But the point of the reading is especially important for hermits who seek to live in solitude or others who find themselves otherwise isolated and alienated from the faith community of their local Church. The very first line of 1 Cor 12:31-13:13 sets the lesson: [[Brothers and Sisters: Strive eagerly for the greatest spiritual gifts. But I shall show you a still more excellent way!]] Paul then goes on to list a number of recognizable spiritual gifts including speaking in tongues, knowledge (including mystical knowledge), and faith (including the faith to move mountains!) but reminds the Corinthians that without love these gifts and indeed, the person herself, are nothing at all. (Despite medieval attempts to aggrandize being "nothing." Paul is clearly disapproving of being nothing here.) Paul's argument through the rest of the passage is clear, if one truly loves then one has every other thing as well; in truly loving, all the spiritual gifts, which are partial and finite, find their completion and eternity. Moreover without love these gifts are empty, void, possibly illusory (or worse), and disedifying.

One of the most salient criticisms of eremitical life is the observation that the hermit has no one around to love or be loved by in the truly demanding and concrete ways human beings require to grow in Gospel love and authentic humanity. This observation has caused some Church Fathers to deny the validity of the eremitical life. It is true that I, for instance, can write moving blog posts, articles, and chapters about eremitical life as essentially loving and about eremitical solitude as essentially dialogical or covenantal, but, as Paul clearly says, [[If I speak in human tongues or angelic tongues but do not have love, I am a resounding gong or a clashing cymbal.]] I might get some attention with and even praise for what I write, but unless it is clearly informed by genuine love, it will be empty and ultimately meaningless. Moreover, the validity or at least the quality of my vocation itself, including the mystical dimensions of my prayer, would need to be seriously questioned in such an instance. As Paul says, [[if there are prophecies, they will be brought to nothing, if tongues, they will cease, and if knowledge [referring to mystical knowledge], it too will be brought to nothing for each and all of these will pass away.]]

We hermits may err in our vocations in many ways but it seems to me that given today's reading and the criticism of some Church Fathers (and the affirmations of all genuine hermits!), our focus, even in maintaining appropriate degrees of physical solitude and silence, must be on our growth in our capacity to love others in Christ both effectively and concretely --- even should we sometimes err against solitude in doing so. This tension between physical solitude and the commandment to truly love one another is always present in the hermit's life. It is certainly not acceptable to speak about loving humanity while one fails to love the individual persons sitting in the pews next to or around us --- much less claiming such a love while eschewing their company. "I love humanity, it's people I can't stand," may be darkly humorous in a Peanuts cartoon strip, but in the life of a hermit it is a blasphemy.

The emphasis on loving others in concrete ways and circumstances is one reason every hermit maintains the importance of hospitality --- whether that means opening one's hermitage to others in specific ways or participating in the local parish community in limited ways; it is also the reason hermits form lauras or are associated with parishes and communities; these are not optional but, even when necessarily limited, are essential to the eremitical life itself and certainly to the lives of those who are privileged via their professions and explicit commission by the Church to call themselves Catholic Hermits. In other words, community and the commitment to concrete forms of loving are critical dimensions of ANY authentic eremitical vocation, even those to complete reclusion; loving effectively and fully is, according to Paul, the truest sign of human wholeness and holiness, the truest sign of genuinely spiritual gifts. (The would-be recluse who is incapable of loving others effectively will be unlikely to be allowed to embrace reclusion.This is one of the reasons the Church requires serious vetting and supervision of eremitical recluses).

Part of the reason for this emphasis on concrete human loving is the especial ease with which a hermit (or other solitary person) can fool themselves about their own degree of spiritual growth or the nature of the spiritual gifts they have been given.  In today's first reading Paul has chosen not to take the Corinthians to task over the authenticity or inauthenticity of their spiritual gifts despite their tendency to self-delusion. Instead of calling them frauds he reminds them they are children. To motivate them to change and grow he speaks to and captures their attention by focusing on the thing which seems to  capture their imagination, namely, their drive and desire for more and more excellent spiritual gifts. He wants them to understand that love is the greatest divine gift, but also that it is the criterion by which all other gifts are truly measured and then brought to completion. Prophecy without love is not of God. The ability to speak in tongues without love is empty and essentially godless; mystical experiences or knowledge without the ability to love others in concrete ways is not authentic. One may have all kinds of moving and extraordinary experiences in solitary prayer, but  in terms of the spiritual life these are, at best, often "childish things" if they remain fruitless. At other times they are simply delusional:  they may simply be ordinary dreams (which can be be insightful, no doubt) treated simplistically as visions, empty visions which, tragically, lead to nothing more than self-satisfaction and navel-gazing, and the psychological projection of one's own problems, conflicts, and struggles. Spiritual maturity implies the ability to love those persons who are precious to God and to do so as they truly need! Divine gifts, whatever the type, are meant to allow us to do this.

These mystical and other prayer experiences and psycho-logical manifes-tations, like everything else in our spiritual lives, must be tested or proved --- words which mean several things including measuring, fostering maturation, and helping to make stronger and truer. They must be integrated into one's everyday life and growth; they must be transformed into personal maturity and wisdom. They must lead to or be associated with the ability to love in concrete situations and relationships. Therefore they must, to the degree they are authentic, lead to patience and kindness. They must not lead to or be associated with arrogance or rudeness nor to a sense that one's spiritual life is somehow "superior" to that of "ordinary" parishes and people! They must be associated with other-centeredness and to genuine humility and they must not allow one to brood over injuries done to one nor to rejoice when evil befalls others. Any authentic hermit, indeed any person who finds that their prayer lives (and especially what they call mystical experiences) do not lead to these manifestations of genuine love must surrender them for (or at the very least complement them with) the demands of community which do lead more surely to these manifestations. One must let go of the manifestations of spiritual childhood for the spiritual wisdom of adulthood. (cf, On Discernment With Regard to Prayer.)

Paul's letter to the (perhaps) spiritually precocious community in Corinth reminds us especially then that spirituality, even and perhaps especially eremitical spirituality, is not a "me and God" only enterprise. That is NOT what God alone is enough means! Canon 603 is very clear that hermits in the Catholic Church, particularly those that live the life in the name of the Church embrace eremitical solitude for the salvation of others. The love a hermit cultivates in the hermitage and in her relatively limited encounters with those in her parish, diocese, monastery, etc is not a facile abstraction, an exercise in empty piety, much less a matter of meaningless if superficially impressive verbal expressions, (e.g., "Not everyone who says 'Lord, Lord' shall enter the Kingdom of Heaven!" or,"in praying do not heap up empty phrases as the Gentiles do"). It is not enough to proclaim one's love for God or humanity while judging and despising people. What makes her vocation divine is the authentic love which motivates and empowers it. The moment a hermit forgets this or chooses isolation over eremitical solitude, she has embraced something which is not truly of God no matter how frequent or vivid the supposed mystical experiences that accompany it. Real union with God involves communion with others. It is the very nature of being a member of the Body of Christ and stands at the heart of Paul's concerns with adult faith and the community in Corinth.

When is a Laura not a Laura for a Diocesan Hermit?

Hi Sister Laurel, I read the following online and wondered if you could comment on it. It is several years old but I am sure it refers to you and to something you are supposed to have written. [[Also Sister Laurels defintion of laura is deeply flawed. A good example of this are the carthusians, early Carmelites and Camaldolese of Monte Corona who are a direct split off from the OSB Camaldolese and started as a Camaldolese laura with the same spirit and rule reformed for a stricter observance of the Camaldoli rule. They did away with the cenobial common house aspects so when they enter the community go straight into the hermitage not as individual hermits but as a laura community with strict enclosure. They can be found here in the United States in Ohio. Also sister's saying that you have to be separate in spirituality to be a laura is also false. I have never argued it openly with her because I felt it would only upset the group and bring more heat than light. (Indwelling Trinity/Emmanuel)]]

Sure.  First, this person (Emmanuel is a screename only; this is not the BC diocesan hermit of the same name,) has mistaken a general definition of laura which is any colony of hermits for the discussions I have had about lauras of canon 603 hermits. The two differ in a number of ways where the laura of the diocesan hermit is a special case within the general category. She is entirely correct that the Camaldolese in Ohio constitute a laura and the same with the other groups she mentions. They also tend to represent semi-eremitical communities where all are bound by the same Rule, constitutions, and customs. They are governed by superiors from within the community, share a common purse and their vow of poverty is interpreted in terms of this. But when I write here that a laura of diocesan hermits must not rise to the level of a community and therefore may not have many of the elements that these communities do, for instance, I am merely re-stating what experts and canonists on canon 603 like Rev. Jean Beyer have clarified because of the solitary eremitical nature of the life canon 603 defines. (cf Canon 603 Misuses and Abuses pt 1)

Remember that when one enters one of the lauras or communities Emmanuel mentions above they are making their eventual profession as a member of this community or congregation. They are not, as is the case with diocesan hermits, solitary hermits responsible for their own upkeep, writing and living their own Rule, and so forth. If the congregation dissolves, then these religious hermits will find that their own vows will also cease due to a material change in the circumstances in which they were made (c. 1194) unless they can transfer these to another institute. (They could not simply transfer their vows and become a diocesan hermit by the way.)

But diocesan hermits are formed as solitary hermits and make their vows directly in the hands of the local Bishop; should a laura they have formed thereafter dissolve for some reason or another, the individual hermit's vows do not cease. They retain these and the obligation to live as a solitary hermit within the diocese continuing under the supervision of the bishop and their own delegate. In other words, in the examples Emmanuel mentions we are dealing with communities or congregations and their hermits are professed as members of said community. These communities can certainly be called lauras because they are colonies of hermits, but they are not colonies of SOLITARY hermits as are c 603 hermits, and they are therefore different in kind than lauras of c 603 hermits. For diocesan hermits a laura, helpful as it might be for mutual support in solitude, is incidental to their vocation; for hermits professed in community the laura is an essential part of the vocation.

Regarding separate spirituality, once again Emmanuel has misunderstood what I have affirmed, namely, that if diocesan hermits come together in a laura each hermit has every right to maintain his or her own separate spirituality and not have a single one imposed ** on them as happens in a group of Camaldolese or Carmelites, for instance where those entering the congregation are formed in this specific spiritual tradition as representatives of it. I suspect this is the place where Emmanuel misinterpreted what I was saying. Thus, in a single diocese when several diocesan hermits choose to live together in a laura for the mutual support of life in solitude, one of them may have embraced a Franciscan spirituality, one a Camaldolese, and a third, Carmelite spirituality.

Because this is not a community reflecting one specific spiritual tradition and charism, one need not relinquish one's own identifying or representative spirituality, nor to wear one single representative habit, etc. Since the hermits here remain solitary hermits, they have every right to live out their own expression of this according to the spiritual tradition that best fits them and to continue doing so according to their own Rule or Plan of Life. (Guidelines and minimal communal organization and structure will likely be necessary in this laura but it does not rise to the level of governance structure of a community in the canonical sense. This is especially true since commentators who specialize in Canon Law and who have focused attention on canon 603 are clear that lauras of diocesan hermits should not be composed of more than three hermits (of the same sex) at a time.[[Cada Eremitorio consta de no mas de tres Eremitaños profesos del mismo sexo.]] Revista Española de Derecho Canonico, Universidad Pontificia de Salamanca, vol 44 num 122, Junio 1987)


Conversely, therefore, if a laura of diocesan hermits begins to move in the direction of a single spirituality, a single habit, a common purse, a single Rule rather than the hermits' own Rules, or if there are uniform horaria imposed, or limitations on the work a hermit may or may not do (e.g., one "c 603 laura" does not allow its hermits to do spiritual direction for instance, and in later versions of the Plan of Life requires individual hermits to get permission to leave the property rather than simply signing out so folks know she is away, etc.), or when the laura begins to dictate who the hermits may have as confessors and directors (e.g., this same "laura" requires the superior of the hermitage to be every individual hermit's spiritual director), when they  may see friends or family, how they may use media, and so forth in contrast to the individual hermits' own Rules or Plans of Life and discernment, chances are pretty good that the laura has crossed the line into becoming a community of semi-eremites rather than a colony of solitary diocesan hermits.

In any case my point has been that individual characteristics including spirituality are to be retained as well as possible in lauras of diocesan (solitary, c 603) hermits. After all, diocesan hermits are first of all solitary and diocesan, not Carmelite or Franciscan or Camaldolese, for instance; their vows are made as solitary hermits within the context of the diocese NOT within a Carmelite or other Order or congregation. The tradition they are committed to live out is that of solitary hermits who may also but secondarily embrace some specific spirituality to assist in that. Like community, a specific spiritual tradition is intrinsic to formation and profession for hermits who are part of congregations. It is far less so for diocesan hermits whose charism transcends any specific spirituality. By the way, this is one of the reasons a number of us in various dioceses and countries have adopted Er Dio or some other version of Eremita dioecesanus (including Erem Dio, and ED) instead of post-nomial initials which can be mistaken for congregational initials. We say clearly in this way that we are vowed as diocesan hermits, not as Franciscans or Camaldolese, and so forth. This is quite different than the cases Emmanuel mentions and also quite different from the position she attributes to me. Please do check the labels included below. They will link you to some of what I have written about this before and enlarge on what constitutes a community rather than a laura in the case of diocesan hermits. Again, you might also check the following article for a better summary: Canon 603 Misuses and Abuses pt 1

** My apologies, I recognize that the term "imposed" is a bit strong and entirely inappropriate when speaking of being formed as a representative of a particular congregation, charism, mission, etc. However, the point is that persons entering a particular congregation will generally be formed in ways which allow them to develop a sense of identity in that congregation's own mission, charism, etc. They will especially resonate with certain elements of the congregation's own identity and be formed in ways which allow them to become living representatives of these things even when they vary in other ways. They will be recognizably Camaldolese or Franciscan or Carmelite, etc. Canon 603 hermits may have developed and matured in different spiritual traditions, have different missions, ways of describing the charism of their vocation, etc., and if they come together in a lavra, they need not necessarily relinquish any of these or become a representative of anything else so long as what they live is consonant with c 603.

Periods of Shared Stillness Before Mass

I love my parish. It is vital (it is both alive and essential to my own life) and liturgically one of the best I know. Generally I appreciate the catching up that goes on before Mass --- especially prior to daily Mass in our lovely chapel. People genuinely love and care for one another here and the community that is fostered and cemented during these periods before daily Mass is important. I realize and support that. But one day last week I made a decision I have not made before. I chose to get up and return home instead of staying for Mass. Sometimes the noise level gets too high for me. Sometimes I just need there to be greater quiet before Mass, not because I don't have it at home (I certainly do!), but because the noise level arising from competing conversations in our little chapel is sometimes simply too much. This day was one of those days.

On the walk home I thought about what had prompted my decision and I thought a lot about the need to build community and to catch up before Mass. I took an inventory of what was happening inside me to ascertain whether my decision to simply leave was due to my own "hang up" or something more. Was I just irritable today for some reason? For instance, was I in pain on some level or other, was I subconsciously worried about something which made my need for greater quiet more acute, or was I actually responding to some movement of the Spirit which could contribute to my own prayer life and to the communal life in my parish --- especially with regard to the daily Mass community? Was it a combination of these things and, if so, in what way? After all, I have been attending Mass here, sitting in the same chair surrounded by a core of the same people for almost 8 years and the noise level does sometimes climb in ways which are difficult to take --- or justify. Sometimes I contribute to that and participate fully in the conversations, sometimes I ask for a greater level of quiet, sometimes I read to distract myself from the noise, and so forth. I think the reasons for today's decision are complex --- more complex than would be helpful to outline here. 

But despite that complexity one issue which predominated in my analysis no matter my momentary mood or personal needs is that of the importance of occasional shared stillness in creating real and profound community. This is something communities of loving persons need and need to be able to support one another in -- especially when that shared stillness is chosen consciously and grounded in God. 

Sue Monk Kidd and the Need for Stillness

Sue Monk Kidd tells the story of being together with her children when they hear a loud thud. She looks up from folding laundry in time to see blue feathers sliding down the window. A bird had flown into it and was injured. Kidd and her children walk outside to see what can be done. The bird's wing is injured but not broken; the bird is frightened and in pain and needs to be still in a safe place. Kidd sits down next to it, strokes the wing very gently with her little finger and then lets the bird just rest. The children, seeing that there is nothing "to do" and hearing that the bird needs to be still return to their TV. Kidd sits quietly in stillness herself and senses the amazing healing power this has. Time passes. The children come to ask if the bird "is done being still" and Kidd says no. They return to their TV again and Sue continues to sit in stillness with the bird. Twenty, thirty, fifty minutes go by. At some point, she says, "The bird was done being still, cocked its head, and flew away." After this experience Kidd was more aware of both the power of stillness and her own need to share it with others. She had waited with the bird and both had been healed in the process. Now she asks friends sometimes to simply come and be with her, to be still with her, and she does the same for and with them. It is an important part of truly loving one another! She concludes with the following comment, "I have regrets in life, but waiting with that wounded bird is not one of them. I learned her stillness and her flight. She taught me prayer." (cf., When the Heart Waits, Spiritual Direction for Life's Sacred Questions, Harper, San Francisco, pp 143-144)

Anyone who has spent time in a monastery or hermitage or on silent retreat has likely sat in silence with others. The silence at these times is like a living thing. There always seems to be a point where one feels the invitation to let the silence deepen and take over. It can be scary; one feels on the edge of something immense and dynamic.  It is like everyone has taken a readying breath at the same time and realizes that something new is on the verge of occurring. I have felt this moment in parishes occasionally and one of two things will happen then, either people will embrace it and allow it to embrace them, or they will fidget, laugh, cough, whisper to the person near them, greet the next person who comes in, etc. Others will then either remain in silence or join in --- usually the latter because it is an uphill battle to remain in silence with noise all around. If they do the latter, then the moment is broken and an incredible means for forming community will have been lost entirely. But if people return to the silence, allow it to deepen, if they get in touch with the Mystery they have begun to encounter and the related communal reality which is forming there, if they commit to the deep connection coming to be as stillness links them in ways conversation cannot, they will experience something awesome and profoundly healing and unifying.

We Have Lost (or Missed out on) Something Important!

I think we have generally lost a sense of the need for real and communal silence, for shared stillness. (I am not directly addressing any lack of reverence in parishes for the reserved Eucharist in this post, however real it may be. Neither am I talking about simple lack of thoughtfulness for the needs of others -- though this may also sometimes be part of the dynamics involved.) There is a very great difference between the stillness and silence I have just described and the enforced silence that used to occur before Mass as everyone sat in their little island of quiet and avoided everyone else. There is a great deal of difference between the silent but profound engagement with God and one another I have just described and simply waiting silently as a group of relatively isolated persons locked in our own "solitude" for Mass to start! When the school children attend Mass with us once a week during the school year we expect them to be silent before Mass, but why? Is this just the proper way to wait for something else (the adults, rightly I think, often seem not to believe this is the case) or are we asking them to participate in something already present, already happening, something special occurring  with us in God which they may never have really experienced before or elsewhere? Are we inviting them to enter WITH US into a realm of amazing intimacy where words fail us and silence transcends all differences (including those of age!) or is this just a means of quieting them down until the priest enters and the "real" event (Mass) begins?

I am sure it is clear I believe we are asking them to join us in something which is, potentially at least, incredibly powerful, intimate, and transcendent. Of course, this kind of silence has to be something members of the parish have shared, an experience they know,  expect, commit to and at least occasionally consciously enter into more intensively together. It must be a way in which they build community in addition to the more common "catching up" that occurs before and after Mass. But how often do parishes or groups within parishes actually experience the period before Mass in this way? Periods of shared silence are simply not encouraged. I am afraid most folks have not experienced or even imagined this even when they pray silently by themselves regularly. Even more problematical is the fact that silence itself is frightening to people and seems unnatural in today's world. I am convinced that if parishes encouraged regular periods of shared stillness prior to daily Mass it could change a great deal --- including increasing a sense of reverence for the reserved Eucharist, for one another and the Holiness which resides within each of us, as well as our sensitivity to the needs of those among us for greater stillness and silent support).

A Proposal For Parishes:

This leads me to make a proposal for parishes to try perhaps once a week prior to daily Mass. I want to suggest that they try implementing a period of shared silence or stillness for a period of 15-20-30 minutes; the purpose is for all those present to enter a state of quiet prayer and to do so in a way which supports one another in this. Those who cannot or do not wish to join in this could be reminded as they enter the chapel that it is a "silent day" and asked to enter as quietly as possible. In our noise-saturated world learning to do this, taking one's place while being careful and attentive to the needs of others for silence would itself be an important practice. At the same time the communal commitment to maintaining the silence required for contemplative prayer can ease the group past any small disruptions so these do not become outright distractions which shatter the silence and shared stillness. A few minutes prior to the beginning of Mass a small prayer bowl or chime could be sounded to signal not only the beginning but the end of this period and give folks a chance to gently transition back, greet one another briefly and quietly, and prepare for the entrance antiphon. In some parishes the priest could do this for the assembly as he enters the sacristy to vest for instance.

When I left prior to Mass the other day I especially needed there to be greater quiet. There were several reasons that made this more urgent that particular day. (All is well; I was and am fine!) However, I know that I am not alone in needing this occasionally and that many days some try to pray quietly with noise all around. Some persist, some give up, and some cease to attend frequently at all. My sense that day was and remains that we have lost (or never developed) a sensitivity to the importance of shared silence in building community and that consequently, we fail to keep the noise level down at all.

Mistakenly, we think that building community requires speech, that silence isolates us from one another, that it is unnatural and even destructive. We fail to see it as significantly community-building when chosen consciously by the group and as central to our lives of shared faith and prayer.  In other words we have lost (or never had) something important and need to make an effort to bring it back or to inculcate it if it was never there at all. Sue Monk Kidd reminds us of the natural and transcendent healing power of shared stillness; it is certainly one of the things we should practice for those times when we can give another nothing else --- and more, when no words will be sufficient. If we cannot do so in a small chapel where the community is relatively intimate and we see, celebrate, and pray for one another regularly then where can it happen?

"Personal Noisiness" and the Silence of Solitude

[[Dear Sister O'Neal, I thought your reference to forms of "personal noisiness" in your post on the destructiveness of physical solitude was intriguing. You said, [[ The personal "noisiness" (physical, emotional, and spiritual) of your isolation is NOT what canon 603 is talking about when it refers to the silence of solitude.]] Could you please say more about this? I am used to thinking of external and inner silence and solitude but I have never thought in terms of "personal noisiness" as being contrary to the solitude of a hermit. Makes sense though.]]

I have written here before about human beings as language events and I may once have referred to times in our lives when we are screams of anguish rather than articulate words. I have also written in the past about not only the Word becoming flesh, but flesh becoming word in Christ. (When this occurs a person becomes authentically human and a living embodiment of the Gospel of God.) When I wrote the comment you cited I was thinking about someone I experience or perceive as a scream of anguish and often, one of outright despair. A person who has reached such a place in their lives seems to me to be "noisy" rather in the way Pigpen carries a ubiquitous cloud of dust around himself. Their pain and whatever else is part of the anguished "scream" they are oozes out of them no matter what they do. Even sitting silently in prayer or other pious practices may be about or at least involve calling attention to themselves and their needs. The problem with a scream is that it cannot be tolerated by others for long; it calls attention to one's pain and anguish and people will initially try to assist the anguished person in some way but it also pushes people away --- not only because they cannot communicate with the one in pain to determine what is needed, but because it leaves them truly helpless to resolve this in any meaningful way.

When I write, therefore, about "the silence of solitude" I am speaking first of all of the physical environment of the hermitage. The normal "air" a hermit breathes is first of all that of the physical silence of being alone. But it is far more than this as well. On another level it involves being silent with God, listening to and for God, learning to attune oneself to the voice of God both within one's heart and in the various other ways that voice comes to one in solitude.

Scripture, Eucharist, silent prayer, spiritual direction, friends and parishioners at Mass and those special times when the hermit socializes or recreates with these important people in her life --- all of these are ways God speaks to the hermit in her solitude; the silence of solitude here refers to the absence of distractions from this dialogue between oneself and God as well as to one's commitment to refrain from unnecessary distractions (some recreation is necessary to the vitality of the dialogue). On a final level then, the silence of solitude refers to what is created within the hermit, or better put perhaps, it refers to the person (hermit) who is created by the dialogue with God in the hermitage.  This is what I referred to when I spoke of shalom, or the wholeness, peace, and joy that is the fruit of an eremitical life. Much of the "noisiness" of human yearning and striving is silenced; so is the scream of self-centeredness and the inability to listen to or hear others. One is at peace with God and with oneself; one is at home with God wherever one goes.

In the past I have also said that the silence of solitude is the environment, the goal, and the charism of eremitical life. What I have just described in the above paragraph is what I mean by environment and goal. When a person is made whole in solitude, when their life breathes (sings!) a resultant sense of peace and the security, joy, and rich meaning of communion with God, then that life is also a gift to the Church and world. This gift (charisma) is what canon 603 calls the silence of solitude; it contrasts radically with the personal noisiness that is linked to the alienation and brokenness of sin. It reminds us all of the completeness we are called to in God. But this is not achieved in the hermit's cell for one not called to eremitical solitude. Instead the personal disintegration which is already present is exacerbated and the scream of anguish one was (if in fact that was the case!) becomes either more explicit or more strident, more expressive of neediness and greater self-centeredness, as well as becoming even less edifying for others. In such a case flesh (sinful existence) remains scream and never rises to the level of Word (graced and articulate existence); that is, one never effectively proclaims the Gospel with one's very life nor reaches the goal of the silence of solitude (the silent dialogical reality we are in union with God) either. Instead the false self and one's own woundedness remain the center of one's life and the content of one's putative 'message'.

I hope this serves as a beginning to explaining my reference to "personal noisiness."

Physical Solitude as Destructive

[[Sister Laurel, how do what you have called the central or non-negotiable elements of canon 603 rule out people from living an eremitical life? Everyone is supposed to pray assiduously, live more or less penitential lives and I think everyone needs silence and solitude as a regular part of their spiritual lives. Wouldn't you agree? So what is it about canon 603 that helps a diocese determine someone is NOT called to be a hermit? Am I making sense? Also sometimes people say that solitude is dangerous for people. Have you ever seen a case where a person is harmed by living in physical solitude? What happened?]]

Yes, I think this is a sensible and very good question. While all the elements of the canon would suffer in one who was not really called to the life the one that comes to mind first and foremost for me is "the silence of solitude." I have treated it here as the environment, the goal, and the charism or gift of the eremitical life to the Church and world.  I have also noted that it is the unique element of canon 603 which is not the same as silence AND solitude and also distinguishes this life from that of most Christians and most other religious as well.  Just as I believe the silence of solitude is the environment, goal, and gift of eremitical life, I believe it is a key piece of discerning whether or not one is called to eremitical solitude. Perhaps you have watched the downward spiral of someone who is living a form of relative reclusion and who has become isolated from his/her family, friends, and from his/her local parish. Often such persons become depressed, angry, bitter, self-centered and anguish over the meaning of their lives; they may try to compensate in ways which are clearly self-destructive and/or which lash out at others. Some turn to constant (or very significant) distraction (TV, shopping, etc) while others use religion to justify their isolation and wrap their efforts at self-justification as well as the self-destruction, bitterness, and pain in pious language. One expression of this is to consider themselves (or actually attempt to become!) hermits.


Whatever else is true about their situation it seems undeniable that such a person is NOT called to be a hermit, does not thrive in physical solitude and gives no evidence of living what canon 603 calls "the silence of solitude." In its own way it is terrifying and very sad to watch what isolation does to an individual who is not really called to eremitical solitude or actual reclusion. There is plenty of documentation on this including from prisons where such isolation is enforced and leads to serious mental and emotional consequences. At the very least we see it is ordinarily destructive of personhood and can be deeply damaging psychologically.

Regarding your questions about whether I have ever seen such a situation and what this looked like, the initial answer is yes. Over the past several years (about 7), but especially over the past 3 years, I have watched such a downward spiral occur in someone who wished and attempted to live as a hermit. Besides the signs and symptoms mentioned above, this person's image of God is appalling and has become more so in response to the difficulties of her now-even-stricter isolation; in trying to make sense of her experiences she has come to believe that God directly tests her with tragedies and persecution, causes her to suffer chronic, even unremitting pain, supposedly demands she cut herself off from friends, family, clergy, et al (which, at least as she reports it, always seems to happen in a way which is traumatic for all involved) and seems to encourage her to cultivate a judgmental attitude toward others whose souls she contends she can read. Tendencies to an unhealthy spirituality and self-centeredness in which this person considers herself to be directly inspired by God while everyone else is moved by the devil, where she is right and everyone else is wrong, where she is unhappy and feels persecuted when concern is expressed, etc, have hardened as she holds onto these "certainties" as the only things remaining to her to make any kind of sense of her life.

It is, for me at least, both saddening and incredibly frustrating. I want somehow to shake this person and say, "Wake up! When everyone else disagrees with you, when every parish finds certain regular occurrences disruptive and divisive while you contend these are of God, consider you may have gotten it wrong!! You would not be the first nor will you be the last! When the fruits of these occurrences are negative for everyone else and seem to lead to increased isolation and unhappiness for you, please at least consider they are are NOT of God!! When physical solitude is a source of misery and desperation rather than joy and profound hope, when it leads to a "me vs the world" perspective (and I am not referring to 'world' in the sense canon 603 or monastic life uses it in the phrase 'fuga Mundi'!!) rather than to finding oneself belonging profoundly (e.g., in Christ or in one's shared humanity which is grounded in God)--- even when apart from others, consider that what you are living is not right for you. God wants you to be complete and fulfilled in him; more, he wills it! He sent his Son so that you might have abundant life, that you might know his profound love and experience true peace and communion -- even and perhaps especially in your daily struggles! Eremitical solitude can be destructive; it is not the way for you! The personal "noisiness" (physical, emotional, and spiritual) of your isolation is NOT what canon 603 is talking about when it refers to the silence of solitude. Please, at least consider these points!


One of the things this ongoing situation has under-scored for me is the wisdom of canon 603's choice of "the silence of solitude" rather than "silence and solitude" as a defining element of the life. It also underscores for me the fact that eremitical solitude is a relational or dialogical reality which has nothing to do with personal isolation or self-centeredness. (Obviously there is a significant degree of physical solitude but this is other-centered, first God and then other people and the whole of creation.) Especially too it says that "the silence of solitude" is about an inner wholeness and peace (shalom) that comes from resting in God so that one may be and give oneself in concrete ways for the love of others. One lives in this way because it is edifying both to oneself as authentically human, and to others who catch the scent of God that is linked to this gift of the Holy Spirit.

A hermit, as I have said many times here, is NOT simply a lone person living an isolated life; neither is eremitical solitude one long vacation nor an escape from personal problems or the demands of life in relationship. In Christianity a hermit lives alone with God in the heart of the Church for the sake of others and she tailors her physical solitude so that her needs (and obligations) for community and all that implies are met. Moreover, not everyone CAN or SHOULD become a hermit any more than anyone can or should become a Mother or a psychiatrist or parish priest or spiritual director. Most people do not come to human wholeness or holiness in extended solitude; further, since extended solitude always breaks down but builds up only in rare cases, embracing it as a vocation can be harmful for one not truly called to it. As I have also written before, the Church recognizes the truth of this by professing very few hermits under canon 603 and by canonically establishing only a handful of communities which allow for either eremitical life or actual reclusion. (Only the Camaldolese and the Carthusians may allow reclusion.) In all of these cases the hermits or recluses are closely supervised and made accountable to legitimate superiors. Medical and psychological evaluations are generally required for candidates and are certainly sought in the presence of unusual or questionable and concerning characteristics.

Please note that the situation I described is unusual in some ways and generally extreme. In every case however, whether extreme or not, a diocese will use the characteristics of canon 603, but particularly "the silence of solitude" understood as Carthusians and other hermits do to measure or discern the nature and quality of the vocation in front of them. They will not use the canon to baptize mere eccentricity or illness and they will look for deep peace, joy, and convincing senses of meaning and belonging which have grown in eremitical solitude over at least several years. Similarly they will look for personal maturity, spiritual authenticity and the ability to commit oneself, persevere in that commitment, and love deeply and concretely. Perhaps I can say something in another post about the other central characteristics of canon 603 and the way they are used to discern when someone does NOT have a vocation to diocesan eremitical life. Assiduous prayer and penance and a life lived for the salvation of others, for instance, can certainly assist the diocese in this way.

On Spiritual Direction and Mystical Experiences

[[ Dear Sister. Are spiritual directors familiar with mystical experiences today? Is it possible that a directee would have experiences that were really from God but that the director doubts? ]]

If a client has experiences s/he calls mystical and is sure are of God I may or may not agree. If I have doubts about these experiences being of God I am apt to kind of bracket them off in my mind, hold them in prayer, and wait for the fruits of such experiences to become evident. (I will also do some personal work to be sure there are no personal reasons which bias my perceptions in this matter.) Occasionally I will tell a person the reasons I doubt these experiences are of God or indicate what they remind me more of, but usually I will not do this. In either case I will temporize and try to assist the person to attend to what changes in them along with the shifting way they view the world and God as a result of these experiences.

The focus cannot remain on the experiences themselves in any case; it must shift to God and to what God reveals of himself in these ways. The person experiencing whatever it is must move from this original focus to wisdom. They must integrate whatever they have been given and grow in "grace and stature" as persons in Christ --- as the saying goes. Nor does this happen all at once. Again, if an experience is of God then it will be given for a reason and one will judge matters according to the fruits of the experience, both immediate and more mediate. Can I be mistaken? Of course. Similarly there are probably people doing direction today who are ignorant of such things or even closed to them. Still, if we continue to focus on the fruits of experiences and work hard to stay out of the Spirit's way in our work with a client, our own initially mistaken opinion will not make a lot of difference.

However, I don't personally know any working directors who are not regular pray-ers; this means they have ordinarily had occasional mystical or peak experiences themselves. Beyond this most have had some advanced education in spirituality or theology and many in psychology or pastoral counseling as well. All the directors I know have also worked with people who have had genuine mystical experiences --- though these tend not to be particularly unusual or frequent. They ARE personally striking and ALWAYS life changing however! Most of us have heard God speak to us from time to time and may have experienced ecstasy. Occasionally there might be something we identify as a vision. Many of us have moments of profound intellectual insight which may be tied to some kind of imagery. What tends to be true of all of these experiences is that the person will return to them again and again to continue to allow it to nourish them and become a source of real wisdom. Each experience is a doorway to the infinite, a way of being taken hold of by mystery. Each experience allows us to enter this realm again and again. Thus, this is another reason they are not usually frequent and certainly not predictable.

Are Directors More Secular and Skeptical of Mystical Experiences Today?

[[Since you do direction today would you say that SD's are more secularized or less open to mystical experiences today?]]

Now this is a great question! It is true that directors do not believe in the frequency or prevalence of such experiences which was once the case. Not least we know that religious ideation, etc, can be and even often is a function of psychological dysfunction and mental illness. Our minds are incredibly powerful tools and they can respond to personal needs and desires in amazing ways --- not all of them helpful and many of them contrary to God. We are, for better and worse people steeped in history and science in a way which does not allow us to see the world as our ancestors did. Even so, unless we are scientific naturalists we believe in ultimate Mystery; we know that reality is grounded not in death but in Life and that the intelligibility of the world points unmistakably to God who grounds and is the source of meaning and so too, intelligibility. We experience the hope of those who are called into and drawn by an absolute future; we are not those who believe that everything randomly came from nothing and will simply sink back into nothingness at some point in time.

Because we believe as we do, because we are scientists and theologians, parents and pastors, philosophers and physicians, directors and psychologists, Sisters and Brothers in Christ, etc, we have met the truly new (kainotes) time and again. We have been taken hold of by Mystery but we no longer can mistake that for mysteries --- problems which must be solved. We no longer believe in a God of the gaps who is pushed out of reality by new scientific discoveries, for instance. Instead we meet Mystery in the everyday events and activities of ordinary life. With every new scientific discovery, every new insight in whatever field, every glimpse of the ordinary, we also can and often become aware of a pervasive dimension of depth, meaningfulness, intelligibility, futurity, and genuine newness we call God or Mystery. Mystery breaks in on us in the ordinariness of life and spiritual directors know this VERY well. The secularity we embrace is that of the Incarnation, a secularity which is eschatological and sacred. My own sense therefore says we are believers who attend to the truly credible (and the truly awesome) without falling into naive credulity.

The bottom line here is that it is true that spiritual directors today do not accept as authentic (or at least are skeptical about) some phenomenon that were once automatically seen as Divine. But this does not mean a rejection of the truly mystical or even the miraculous. Mystery and miracles are real. Miracles reveal the deepest order of the cosmos as does Mystery. We expect this deep dimension of reality to be experienced by every person who opens herself to it and, of course, we are open to such experiences ourselves. Still, to reiterate one last time, the authenticity of any experience can only be measured by its fruits: do these experiences build community, do they increase a person's capacity to love in real and concrete terms; is one made more generous, self-sacrificing, hopeful, whole, and happy through them? If so, then we are dealing with something that is truly of God; otherwise judgment must be withheld until the fruits (including the bad fruits of division, selfishness, isolation, etc) become clear.