Holding Privilege and Humility Together by the Grace of God

[[Dear Sister Laurel, thank you for your response to my questions on ecclesiality. I think I understand that a vocation is ecclesial because it serves the Church in a particular way. I also think I am beginning to understand that the solitude a hermit lives is one that is part of a larger relatedness within the Church. Right? What is a little harder for me to understand is how seeking a certain kind of privilege in the Church can be about humility. I know that when I think of being called to live eremitical life in the name of the Church --- a phrase I got from your blog --- it causes me to feel a little shaky and awed that God might be working this way in MY life. Is this what you mean when you refer to this privilege inspiring humility? I grew up thinking that to be humble meant thinking badly of myself or denigrating myself and thinking of others as superior to me. But you are not talking about humility in that way, are you? Is it possible to think of one's vocation as important and still be humble? ]]

Thanks for writing again! Yes, you are essentially right in what you say of solitude. Also, you have answered your own last question with your description of what happens when you think of being called to live eremitical life in the name of the Church. You say you get shaky and feel awed. I have a friend who gets goosebumps and feels kind of shivery when she recognizes deep truth. I wonder if you aren't having a similar response to this sense of your own vocation?! You don't seem to me to be saying you are full of pride (vainglory) and a sense of being better than others!! You seem to me to be describing exactly the kind of humility divine vocations provoke or inspire in us when we realize that God has called us to serve in a particular way, and that way is way beyond anything we thought we were capable of, especially by ourselves! You are aware, it seems to me, of what God is doing in your life and also with your life. I think that is a genuinely humbling experience. 

Actually, I know that is a humbling experience!!! What is a danger to such genuine humility is our own sense of inferiority!! In my own experience, the thing that can especially prevent one from allowing God to work in and through one in a specific way is clinging to the kind of pseudo-humility that is really a form of denigration and an expression of inferiority. (Even worse, it can be great pride masking itself in terms of self-denigration and inferiority!!) What we do when we fall into this kind of pseudo-humility is to deny the effectiveness of Divine grace. What we do in these times is to tell God that he can't call us in this way, he can't possibly use us to serve him in this way! We are too little or inept or "nothing", or simply too great a sinner to be used for such a role!!! We essentially tell God to look elsewhere, to someone better, or wiser, or cleverer, than we are!! Now that is pride!! Imagine telling God that you can't possibly be both privileged and humble, you can't possibly live a vocation in the name of the Church without becoming all puffed up with pride!!! It's a small step to telling God that no one can be called to serve him in this way and remain humble—a not-so-subtle way of telling God he's crazy, that sin really is victorious over Christ, and to stop calling people to ecclesial vocations!!!

Humility is about being grounded in God. It is a form of loving honesty that reflects the awe (your word!!) occasioned by an awareness of who we are and what we do with and through the grace of God. My own appreciation of the ecclesial nature of this (c 603) vocation grew only as my own capacity for genuine humility grew. I do not tend to lack humility when I speak of the privilege of living an ecclesial vocation "in the name of the Church" because I know I am speaking of a constellation of obligations or responsibilities that I have freely assumed for God's sake and the sake of God's Church and world. I do, however, lack humility when I am afraid to affirm that God could or has called me to such a vocation despite having sensed a divine call!! I lack humility when I deny what the grace of God has done in Christ, and can do, and has therefore done with me in this way!

One feels called by God when one truly feels a yearning to live an eremitical life in the name of the Church. Those who are seeking something else will reveal themselves to those doing discernment with them, as has sometimes happened with this and probably every other vocation in the Church. In c 603 vocations, it tends to happen when bishops who are asked to profess someone without such a vocation simply say, "Whom could it hurt? It's an insignificant vocation! It's hidden away so no one will know or be hurt by such dishonesty or by the hermit's own personal problems!" But of course, a lot of people, and the vocations themselves, are hurt in this way! Imagine bishops telling people that a vocation lived in the heart of the Church, and responsible for revealing this heart to the Church itself, can be filled by someone who doesn't believe they are called to this! It would be like a heart surgeon replacing a heart valve with paper clips and chewing gum and expecting the heart to stay healthy and the whole organism to live! I have been involved with such a case myself. The person was clear s/he did not feel called to be a hermit, and had never lived as a hermit, but felt called to "Public profession," in service to a contemporary cultural agenda. His/her bishop became complicit in this despite being aware of the fundamental dishonesties involved; he professed this person, and together they denigrated a vocation that is both infinitely meaningful and incredibly fragile. This short-sightedness, dishonesty, and abject willfulness are also faces of the lack of humility. 

But none of this is what you have described or feared in approaching what may well be your own vocation. Yes, you are seeking to be consecrated in a way that is associated with particular ecclesial privileges. But these privileges are also responsibilities and obligations you accept in and through the grace of God. The hermits who had Bp Remi de Roo as their Bishop Protector may have been open to accepting certain religious privileges, but these were men who knew well that such privileges were responsibilities and obligations they had already lived wholeheartedly for the good of God's People and creation during their years under solemn vows. While I can't say whether or not they urged Bp Remi to bring this up to the Vatican or at the Vatican Council II, and while I don't think this was on their minds when they left their monasteries, it wouldn't be surprising if, in the face of discussions with Bishop de Roo, they might well have recognized that perhaps God called them to eremitical life after long years in the monastery precisely to get the Church to recognize the value of the eremitical life and allow for it in universal law. 

As you move forward, I hope you never lose your tendency to feel awe and get shaky as you consider what God and you together are doing with your life! Through the grace of God, it is possible to hold privilege and humility together in a way that edifies the entire People of God!! Please feel free to write again. Know I hold you in my prayers, especially in this regard!!

More on Terminology, Individualism, and the Grace of an Ecclesial Vocation

[[ Hi Sister Laurel, . . .I am glad you wrote about terminology again at the same time you have been writing about individualism. Wouldn't someone's refusal to use the term Catholic Hermit in the way the Catholic Church uses it be an example of individualism? I think the same is true of the other terms you discussed as well as the idea that the bishop consecrates as a kind of "stand in" for God rather than God consecrating the hermit. I admit, I have never understood how someone could insist God consecrated them when the only thing they have to show for this is their insistence it is true! How important to you is it to live your hermit life "in the name of the Church"?]]

Really good point about terminology. Thanks!! I don't know how common this kind of thing actually is. It does not surprise me when someone who is Catholic and a hermit calls themselves a Catholic Hermit. It is an easy mistake to make, and the line between what one does "in the name of the Church" and what one does not is not always an easy one to draw. It is easier, of course, when the Church itself sets up norms for certain things, and one meets these norms (including accepting standing in law according to a particular canon or set of canons). Once the norms are set and the Church implements these canons, there is a way to determine what it means to be a hermit, 1) as the Church understands the vocation, and 2) as she calls people forth to live this in her name. Before such norms (canons) anyone who was an isolated pious person AND a faithful Catholic could say "I am a Catholic hermit", but, after Vatican II the Church made the decision to establish this vocation as a state of perfection with a central (though hidden) place in the Church's own call to glorify God; it established this vocation in law, and so, certain norms must now be met.

All of that changes the Church's language, and our own as well.  Because the Church specifically calls people forth to live this vocation in her name, it means that she sometimes does NOT call others. One knows whether one has been called by God via the Church to live a public (canonical) vocation or not. If someone were to mistakenly call themselves a Catholic Hermit, it would be potentially embarrassing, but easily corrected. They merely have to say, "Correction, I mispoke. I am a Catholic AND a hermit, but not a Catholic Hermit." I think the problems really occur when a person's usage is corrected and they refuse to make the adjustment, either in usage or personally, and in their own mind. Then we could be dealing not only with individualism, but, at least potentially, other things, including a lack of flexibility and humility, or even arrogance and self-righteousness. This is tragic because the eremitic life is a significant one, no matter what state of life the person is called to live it in. Each state of life allows the hermit to witness in somewhat different ways to both the Church and the world.

Yes, it is important to me to live my hermit life "in the name of the Church", and so, to live it well. At the same time, this importance has shifted over the years. It is awesome still, and what has deepened is my sense of the nature of the Church and my place in allowing it to be that. Because I studied and still read and do theology, I have had a good sense of the nature of the Church, that is, what constitutes sound ecclesiology, and what does not. It is a different (and maybe always awesome) matter to see God calling me to be a living stone in this edifice Jesus builds day by day and person by person. Recent shifts in my own understanding of eremitic life all have to do with the ecclesial nature of the vocation, and the inklings of all this were present when I approached my diocese @ 1985 or more strongly when I met with Bp Vigneron for the first time in 2005. To see some of the ways my understanding has clarified and deepened is so gratifying!

It is not necessarily easy to understand, especially initially, why God calls one to eremitical life rather than to other vocations, especially given the great need the world has for apostolic ministry. It is difficult (many times!) to understand why God might allow various traumata and associated chronic illnesses to be defining realities in our lives. And yet, whatever the circumstances of one's life, what remains true for each of us is that one is called to authentic humanity in dialogue and communion with God. Another way of describing this foundational vocation is that one is called to allow God to be God, and most especially, to allow God to be Emmanuel, God with us! It seems to me that this gift of God's Self is not only the answer to all prayer, but the call to let this gift be real in space and time is the very essence of the Church's own vocation in our world as well. In the Church's case,  it is not a call to be truly human, of course, but to be the place where God is allowed to fully reveal Godself as Emmanuel, the One who will truly be with us in every moment and mood of creation's history. (Here, by the way, is both the beauty and truth of a sacramental Church that reveals the whole of creation is shot through with the presence of God in the risen Christ and will one day be transformed completely when God is All in All.)

In my own life, the depths and darknesses that have colored so much of it have given me the opportunity to witness to the truth of this ecclesial vocation. With the assistance of and within the context created by the Church, I have been able to plumb those same depths along with all the questions and doubts they raised for me over the years, and find both God and my truest self together there. As I have said before, Frederick Buechner once remarked that "Vocation is the place where our deep gladness meets the world's deep need". For me, the hermitage is the place where all this happens. It is the place God called me to so that I might have the time and space to truly explore not only the complex question(s) I have lived (and been!) for so many years, but also so that I might allow myself to hear the answer God is as Emmanuel. Even more profoundly (and very much a continuing source of awe!!),  it is the place I have been called to become myself, the place of intercession where the love and mercy of God meet the anguish and yearning of his creation and the Good News of Jesus' death, resurrection, and ascension proclaimed as lived experience. I think this is true of all c 603 hermits.

I believe that having been called to a specifically ecclesial vocation has challenged me to explore what that really means, and more, what it means to live it for God, for the Church, and really, for all of God's creation. This dimension of the vocation not only deals with individualism, but it replaces fear of (or concern about) individualism with a sense of mission and charism that mirrors the Church's own, even within the silence of solitude. Because I am a convert to Catholicism, I am even more blown away by what it means to be called to live as a hermit "in the name of the Church". I have told the story of the experience I had when I attended my first Mass with a high school friend. I recognized (or "heard") while kneeling and watching others receiving Communion, that "in this place every need (you) have, whether intellectual, emotional, aesthetic, spiritual, or psychological, (can) be met".  I began instruction that week.

About 18 years later, after I had spent some years in community, worked in clinical lab (hematology), developed an adult-onset seizure disorder (epilepsy), finished academic studies, had some experimental neurosurgery, worked as a hospital chaplain, and begun working with my current spiritual director (not necessarily all in that order), I read the newly published Canon 603, and had a similar experience. On the third or fourth reading, I reflected, "My entire life could make sense in terms of this way of life -- wholeness, brokenness, limitations, talents, giftedness, deficiencies, etc. -- everything could be meaningful." It took years to discover the experience at that first Mass was actually a promise God was making me, and many more to understand the paradoxical, counterintuitive, and truly perfect (though still painful) way God was shaping the answer He and I together within the ecclesial context established by the Christ Event and Canon 603, would become!

On Peter Damian's Letter #28 and the Ecclesial Nature of c 603 Vocations

[[Hi Sister, you referred to Saint Peter Damian's Letter #28 (Dominus Vobiscum) and cited Ponam in Deserto Viam too. I am not clear why the ability to say, "The Lord be with you" is such a question. Also, Ponam in Deserto Viam speaks of two phrases in par 16. One is solitudo pluralis and the other is moltitudo singularis. I dont understand these or their importance, and I didn't hear Ponam make that clear. (I honestly read par 16 several times and just felt more confused.) Can you help me with this? Why begin with such a meaningless question and take it into the kind of difficult terms Damian does?]]

Important questions. Thanks!! One key to understanding the phrases in Par 16 of Ponam is Par 15. In these references, Ponam is exploring the nature of eremitical solitude and the way it represents and even defines the ecclesial role of the hermit life.  It says, [[In the Latin tradition, as Peter Damian (1007-1072) wrote. . .radical solitude most carefully defines the ecclesial role of the hermits' way of life. Hermits are like a microcosm of the world and the Church in miniature. Therefore, they cannot forget the Church and the world which they represent in their totality. The more one is alone before God, the more one discovers within oneself the deeper dimension of the world. With an expressive phrase, Peter Damian underlined this openness: 

. . .by virtue of the Holy Spirit, who is in each one and fills all, on the one hand one perceives a singularity [or perhaps singleness or solitariness] that has plurality in itself [solitudo pluralis], on the other hand a multiplicity that has singularity [or perhaps, singleness] in itself [moltitudo singularis].

Then, as you know, Ponam (par 16) explains something of these two phrases, solitudo pluralis and multitudo singularis, and concludes, "The hermit's life is not one in which its subjective distinctiveness becomes the criterion of all. Rather, it is a life in which plurality (personal and social) finds meaning in the only One who is necessary. Thus, the complexity of the individual part is integrated as in a microcosm of the whole. True identity is rooted in a vital tradition that neither excludes nor rejects, but includes, integrates, and reconstructs." I think that it might be important to look at some of what Peter Damian says in his 28th letter. In some ways, I think he is clearer than Ponam manages in its brevity. Damian says, 

"Truly the Church of Christ is so joined together by the bond of love that in many it is one, and in each it is mystically complete. Thus we at once observe that the whole Church is rightly called the one and only bride of Christ, and we believe each individual soul, by the mystery of baptism, to be the Whole Church. . . . If you search diligently through the open fields of Holy Scripture, you will find the Church is often represented by one man or one woman. And although, because  of the great number of people, the Church seems to be many parts, it is still one and simple in the mystical federation of one faith and one divine regeneration.. . .  And so we conclude . . . since the whole Church is symbolized in the person of one individual, . . .holy Church is both one in all and complete in each of them; that is to say, simple in many by reason of their unity of faith, and multiple in each through the bond of love and the various charismatic gifts [gifts of the Holy Spirit], since all are from one, and all are one." (The Fathers of the Church, CUA Press, pp 262-263) emphasis added

Peter Damian's letter goes further and speaks about hermits who might misunderstand the nature of their vocation: 

"It is possible that in their simplicity some of the brothers might be tempted while living alone to think that they are somehow separated from the community of the faithful, and that they would also be loathe to use the common language of the Church in their prayers." . . . For we are not here concerned with the number of persons but rather with the mystery of the Church's unity. Here indeed, unity does not exclude multiplicity, nor does multiplicity violate unity, for one body is at once divided among many members, and from the various members one body is made complete. Nor are many members lost in the unity of the body, nor is the wholeness of the body minimized in the multitude of its members." (Ibid. pp 271, 274)

In recent years, I have stressed that the canonical eremitic vocation is ecclesial. This does not mean that other hermits, especially non-canonical hermits, do not belong in an integral way to the Church, nor that they do not give their lives to the Church. Instead, it means that canonical hermits have accepted a public role in the very life of the Church that reminds every person, at least implicitly, of the two dimensions Peter Damian and Ponam in Deserto Viam put at the center of understanding eremitical solitude (in our oneness we are always part of a multiplicity, and in our multiplicity, we are one in the Spirit). Part of this witness by hermits embracing ecclesial vocations requires a canonical commitment to the life of the Church as consecrated hermits to consciously witness to and build up the very nature of the Church and the consecrated life within it. Solitude in such vocations is marked by a serious and radical aloneness, and at the same time, it participates in and reflects community in an equally radical way. One source says it this way, [[the solitude of the hermit is a solitudo pluralis, a corporate solitude, and (her) cell is a miniature Church.]]

The canonical hermit participates fully in the Sacramental life of the Church. She prays the Church's official prayer (Liturgy of the Hours); she may join with other hermits in lauras --- including virtual lauras that are non-geographic and allow for the strengthening of ecclesial bonds and witness. She lives her life according to an approved Rule of Life and under the supervision of Bishops (and often, accepted delegates) and spiritual directors. She does not live an individualistic life where canon law is dismissed as something only legalists or the "less spiritual" or "more temporal" choose. Instead, she allows herself to become subject to additional canons beyond those associated with baptism alone, because she understands that hermit life is a radically ecclesial and incarnational life, that, in a unique way, sees the multiplicity in one, and the one in and as the many. She wants to witness to this double reality in her own life and to do so officially for the sake of the Church and world.** Of course, it goes without saying that no hermit is alone because she lives with and from God, but what is also true is that no hermit is ever alone because we each carry the entire Church with us in our solitude. In fact, we are that Church.

While the question that begins Peter Damian's essay in this letter seems almost meaningless to contemporary readers, I personally love it. What I see Damian doing is taking a tremendously small act in the daily schedule of eremitic life, and demonstrating how it and, in fact, every single act done in the cell is shot through with both the solitude and the multiplicity of the Church. This solitude and solidarity were what Pope Leo XIV spoke to in his address to hermits during recent Vatican festivities. Canonical standing, again, helps witness to these values and distinguishes the eremitical life from the individualism noted above. When I speak of the structure of canonical eremitic life protecting from the dynamics of "the world," the temptation to individualism is one of these.

___________________________________________

** When one does something officially, it really does have greater effectiveness than doing something unofficially. The very fact that the Church chose to create c 603 in response to interventions at the Second Vatican Council indicates the Church's openness to freshly evaluating or re-evaluating the importance of solitary hermits in the life of the Church, as well as looking at the reality of religious life not associated with membership in an institute of consecrated life. The cogency of Peter Damian's ecclesiology in Letter #28 is strengthened by the contemporary establishment of c 603 and solitary hermits. These are very good reasons for the "official" or canonical establishment of the solitary eremitical life.

Discerning an Eremitical Vocation: From Lone Pious Person to Solitary Hermit under Canon 603

 It has been several years since I have written about this topic in a dedicated way, and I think there is no doubt that I can improve on what I have written in the past. I would like to make a start on that here. Recently, a Vicar from another Diocese wrote me about consecrating a c 603 hermit there, and one of the questions he asked was what missteps I have seen dioceses make over the years. It was a very fine question, and I wrote about six major missteps with some subtopics as well. One of those missteps was "professing a lone pious individual rather than a hermit". While I don't think it is always easy to tell the difference, one of the best ways depends upon the person having negotiated a couple of stages in their spiritual lives before contacting a diocese with a petition to be professed as a diocesan hermit.

The first stage involves the cultivation of a strong prayer life within one's usual parish involvement. This prayer life will likely mainly be communal with strong sacramental participation, though it will also include a significant degree of solitude and private prayer. Most people will find this is challenging and plenty sufficient for their own journey with and to God within their own vocational state. Some persons, at some point, however, will desire greater solitude, as well as greater intimacy with God, and will move to become more clearly contemplative in their prayer and lives more generally. At this point, some will find their yearning for God, and for knowing themselves continues to deepen and their thirst for solitude intensifies. They will find ways to accommodate these needs and yearnings. Some (relatively few) of these last persons are likely to discover they are called to be hermits and, given time, will be most able to fulfill the constitutive elements of c 603, in the Roman Catholic Church, including writing a liveable Rule rooted in their own experience.

Once the person perceives a sense that perhaps they are called to live as a hermit in some way, they will need to take a close look at c 603 and what it claims as integral pieces or dimensions of the solitary eremitical vocation. Over time, the person will build her life around God in a more focused and primary way and embody these elements consistently. They will come to define not only c 603, but her own life. She will come to think of herself as a hermit and will need to make choices about how she is best able to live this vocation. Will it be as a solitary hermit? What about in a laura or lavra, and if so, where will this be? Will it be as part of a community of hermits -- that is, as part of a group of those living eremitical life in a juridical community? During all of this time, the hermit's discernment and formation continue. Does she need a stronger background in Scripture? How about theology? What about praying the Divine Office? Is there a local monastic community that she can join for liturgy who would teach this? Does she need to take some classes, even if online for this or other dimensions of monastic life? Does she have a way to support herself within a hermitage situation? If not, what training or education does she need to do this? A strong candidate for canon 603 life, for instance, will tend to discern and find ways to meet these needs on her own initiative -- which, of course, does not preclude getting assistance as needed!

After a period of some time, the hermit (or candidate) will be in a position to write a liveable Rule of Life. She will know herself well, will have a good sense of how God works in her life, and will have developed the skills necessary to embrace an eremitical life for the whole of her life. In all of this process of preparation and discernment, real growth is occurring, first as a Christian for whom Christ is central, then as a contemplative, and finally as an eremite. The preparatory journey begins with a lone pious person responding more deeply to God as a Catholic Christian, but then moves forward in a way that deepens the person's sense of ecclesiality, especially the ecclesiality of this eremitic vocation lived out in the silence of solitude. The Art of Seeking the Face of God, Guidelines for the Formation of Women Contemplatives, says it this way: 

Deepening one's proper charismatic tradition must be placed in context and interpreted in light of sentire cum ecclesia, in harmony with the sensus fidelium and through intelligent discernment of the signs of the times. . . . In this ecclesial perspective, every aspect of formation will be put in practice according to the original inspiration of one's institute [or, in this case, solitary eremitical life codified in c 603] . . .In this respect, in vocational accompaniment, starting with initial formation, a sincere feeling of heartfelt belonging to the Church should be cultivated: "the path of consecrated life is the path of inclusion in the Church [. . .]. Thus, we are talking about an ecclesial inclusion with ecclesial categories, with an ecclesial spiritual life [. . .]. There is no room for anything else.

 Sometimes today, we find dioceses professing persons under c 603 who do not feel called to be hermits. They are individualists seeking to use the canon as a stopgap means simply to get professed or to start a community, etc. Some of these individuals are lone, pious people who have not made the transition to an eremitic life, or even to a strong contemplative life, and have not subsequently discerned an eremitical vocation. Their dioceses, for whatever reason, have not taken seriously the charism of the solitary eremitical life. They have not regarded, much less required, the profound inner journey a hermit makes in seeking the face of God or their own truest self in the silence of solitude. Neither have they required the commensurate experience needed by the solitary hermit to engage in such a journey in a lifelong public ecclesial commitment. To fail in this way is a betrayal of the gift God has entrusted to the Church in calling people to become desert dwellers in the consecrated state. Nonetheless, the move from lone pious individual, to contemplative, to hermit discerning an ecclesial vocation are the main stages of development anyone seeking to become a c 603 hermit must negotiate in a sound process of discernment and formation. At the heart of each stage is an ever-deepening search for and response to God. This inner contemplative journey, made for God's sake as well as for the sake of the hermit's own wholeness, the holiness of the Church, and the salvation of others, is the raison d'être of the eremitical life and the only reason embracing the silence of solitude in the way the hermit's life requires, makes sense in a Christian context.

On Hermits, Parish Participation, Mass Attendance, and Ecclesial Vocations

[[ Also, what I really wanted to ask you, if a hermit didn't want to be part of a parish or diocese, could they still be a consecrated Catholic hermit? How about if they never attended Mass? I know the Church teaches that there is something called the mystical Body of Christ and that the New Testment (sic) says we are to become spiritual beings. Can a hermit become a spiritual being and not be able to attend Mass? I thought that Catholics were obligated to attend Mass every Sunday so I wondered how someone could be a Catholic hermit and not go to Mass except once in a while? Too, when you speak about an "ecclesial vocation" doesn't everyone have this kind of vocation? we all live our calling from inside the Church, don't we?]]

These are questions I never got to in an earlier post. Sorry it has taken me time to return to them, though I am hoping some of the footnotes I added to that post may help with these. To answer you more directly, though, I would argue that it depends on what one means by being part of a parish as to whether I answer your first question yes or no. There is the rare situation where a diocesan hermit lives on the premises of a monastery and attends liturgy, and sometimes liturgy of the hours, etc., with the monastic community. Those rare instances aside, most diocesan hermits depend upon the parish for their sacramental life and are a part of the parish in at least that sense. When you ask about not participating in a diocese, the answer is definitely no, because, by definition, a c 603 hermit is consecrated as part of a local (diocesan) Church. She is part of the life of that local Church as well as of the universal Church. This will ordinarily imply being an active member of a parish within that diocese, at least as the source of her sacramental life.

However, some diocesan hermits are involved in the life of the parish in other ways. For instance, I used to do a liturgy of the Word with Communion for the daily Mass group on my pastor's days off. Later, I did that only once or twice a month, and another Sister and lay person took the 2 alternate days, during the month. Once a week, during the school year, I also teach a Scripture class by ZOOM. This is for the parish, but we also have a few people joining us from outside the parish as well. Finally, I do spiritual direction, and while that is open to parishioners, I mainly have clients from outside the parish. So long as a hermit depends on the parish for her sacramental life and contributes even in very limited ways to the life of the parish, especially by being a resource for prayer and for the occasional conversation with parishioners who might want to talk, s/he is an active participant in the parish. I can't see any consecrated Catholic Hermit not participating in parish life at least to the extent of her sacramental life and being a resource for prayer and occasional conversations with those in need. For my comments on Hermits and Eucharistic attendance, please see, Eucharistic Spirituality.

Remember that to call oneself a Catholic Hermit is something only the Church herself may permit one to do. After all, to say one is a Catholic Hermit is to say far more than that one is a Catholic and a hermit. It means to live eremitical life as the Church understands it, and to do so in her Name. To be a Catholic means to be baptized and thus commissioned to live the Christian faith in the name of the Catholic Church and in the way she understands and strives to understand and express that faith. Thus, the Catholic laity is given permission at baptism to call themselves Catholic and to strive to live this vocation ever more fully. With other vocations within the Church, priesthood, religious life, consecrated virginity, eremitical life, etc., the Church herself admits candidates to candidacy and a process of mutual discernment. If, through the mediation of the Church, the person is ordained, professed, and/or consecrated by God, they begin to live this specific vocation in the name of the Church and become a Catholic priest, Catholic Sister or Brother, Catholic hermit, and so forth.

The Mystical Body of Christ (or of the Church) refers to the entire Church, on earth and beyond it. What is mystical about it is the way it is composed and held together by God, especially in the Risen Christ and the Holy Spirit. Mystical ordinarily refers to the absolute Mystery of God and to whatever is empowered by that Mystery. It does not refer to one part of the Church, say a "mystical" or "spiritual" part, to the exclusion of the rest of the Church (say, the embodied and very human part). As I noted in my earlier post to you, just as Paul speaks of spiritual people and fleshly people, meaning, respectively, the whole person either under the power of the Spirit or the whole person under the power of Sin, the Mystical Body refers to the whole Church, both on earth and beyond it, under the power of God in the Holy Spirit. The phrase is meant to indicate that what holds the Church together and is the source of its ongoing life is God; it is not simply a large earthly or human organization or institution, nor simply a good idea put forward by human beings who needed a way to worship once a week. It is a privileged way we participate in, experience, and are empowered to help others to experience God's life and sovereignty (God's reign or Kingdom) in our world today. (It is not the Kingdom, but it participates in that Reign of God and helps mediate it to our world.)

An ecclesial vocation is similarly distinct from merely being a member of the Church (if one can ever be said to be merely a member of the Church), though it presupposes one is an active member of the Church, yes. Most Catholics live their lives for the sake of the Gospel and do so outside the visible boundaries of the Church. They support the Church with their time, talent, and treasure, as the saying goes; however, their vocations are lived for the sake of their families, and society (school systems, businesses, country, state, county, etc.), and not for the sake of the Church itself. Some vocations, however, don't simply support the Church, and are not merely lived for the sake of the Gospel, as critically important as these things are. These vocations are lived for the sake of the Church in a way that directly helps the Church be the Church of Christ, and thus, Catholic. In everything the person with such a vocation does, they directly represent the Church. (Sometimes they will do so publicly and even officially, other times more privately, but in everything the person is and does, they directly represent the Church.) Moreover, they do so for the sake of the Church; they call directly to other persons within the Church with ecclesial vocations to live their vocations as well and as fully as they can. This is their identity in Christ (another reason we tend to use titles like Sister, Brother, Father, etc., for such persons), and they cannot be this person only some of the time.

This responsibility is about not merely being a Catholic Christian for others, though it includes this, but about representing the Church to herself in ways that allow her to grow to be the Church God calls her to be. Religious are called to witness to and challenge both the laity and clerics in a way that caused John Paul II to comment in Vita Consecrata, that he could not conceive of a Church with only priests and laity (cf Ecclesial Vocations) but without religious. The Church herself recognizes that while religious are not part of the hierarchical nature of the Church (they are not a hierarchical position between clerics and laity), vocationally speaking, they are part of her very holiness. All hermits represent eremitical life in some way, shape, or form. Some of us do this better than others, and some of us do it less well. But canonical hermits are specifically called, and respond in their profession, to both live and explore the vocation in a normative way, aware at every moment that they do so for the sake of God, God's Church, this vocation, and all of those whom this vocation might touch. They are not free to live the life of a hermit in whatever way they want or even in whatever way is comfortable. Canon 603 (for solitary consecrated hermits) and canon and proper law (for those in orders or congregations like the Camaldolese, Carthusians, Carmelites, et al) will dictate and shape the way they live eremitical life. Especially, such hermits will live this life for others' sake -- a phrase that includes all those just noted above.

I sincerely hope this answers your questions. You can always get back to me with more questions and comments. Thanks for your patience in awaiting this reply!

Why does the Church Need Hermits? On the Journey of Existential Solitude and Jesus' Cry of Abandonment

[[Hi Sister, is the inner journey you speak about under the name "existential solitude" frightening? Maybe that's a weird question, but you have said that everyone hesitates to undertake this journey even though it is necessary in order to be truly human. Why is this form of solitude so scary, or why do people want to avoid it? You also said, My sense is that Vatican II gave us a more robust access to Scripture and to a Jesus whose humanity was rooted in faithful prayer (i.e., dialogue with God at every level of his being) and expressed in his active ministry and life with others, as well as in his regular turn to solitude. Both of these revealed Jesus' union with God and the nature of divinity and humanity. But if Jesus was rooted in prayer in this way and united with God, why did he cry out in abandonment on the cross? Did God really leave him, and if he did, then how did God raise him from the dead? I have never understood that or believed that God would abandon any of us, so how could he abandon his only begotten Son? The way I have felt about this is, if God could do that to Jesus, then what chance do any of us have?]]

These are all great questions, and difficult ones. They are questions I have struggled with myself, especially in light of my own recent experience of journeying to the depths of myself and there discovering both God and my deepest, truest self. I haven't asked the questions in the same way you have. What I said to myself was, if Jesus was entirely open and attentive to God (because that is what obedience means), and if he was open in this way even unto death on a cross (even unto sinful or godless death), how could he have not been aware of God's presence unless God truly turned away from him? And yet, how can Jesus reveal God is truly and most profoundly God With Us, if he is a God who abandons us in our sinfulness? I recognize there is paradox right at the heart of this experience of Jesus, but this didn't completely resolve my own questions --- especially as I made my own journey into the center of my Self and discovered the deep darkness and hunger there.

Thomas Merton once wrote, [[My brother, perhaps in my solitude I have become as it were an explorer for you, a searcher in realms which you are not able to visit -- except perhaps in the company of your psychologist. I have been summoned to explore a desert area of man's heart in which explanations no longer suffice, and in which one learns that only experience counts. An arid, rocky, dark land of the soul, sometimes illuminated by strange fires which men fear and peopled by spectres which men studiously avoid except in their nightmares. And in this area I have learned that one cannot truly know hope unless he has found out how like despair hope is.]] It was reflecting and meditating on that last sentence, and in conversations with my spiritual director exploring my own experience and the meaning of all that, that I came to an understanding of what Jesus' cry of abandonment both did and didn't mean.

After all, what does it mean to say that despair and hope are very like one another? This line of Merton's comments fascinated me precisely because of my own inner journey where, in the midst of darkness and anguish, I came to experience light and know hope in a new way. And yet, I also knew I had never felt abandoned by God, was never abandoned by God! So, how could Jesus have been? Was this also something Jesus' death and resurrection changed? Or, did God abandon Jesus and then come back to raise him from the depths of godforsakenness? (I admit, that last possibility didn't make theological sense to me!) Was Jesus' cry of dereliction like my own cry in the darkness of despair or near despair? Did he discover God there in that dark and anguished journey to the depths as I had recently done? But I knew that Jesus' cry was from a darker and more anguished and godforsaken place than my own could ever be precisely because Jesus had made that journey before me, and for that reason, because he implicated God in even that godless place/space/time, I truly never had experienced abandonment by God.

And this still left me wondering what abandonment meant in Jesus' cry. If he was abandoned by God, then how had God raised him from godless death? How could Jesus continue to "exist" at all? And if God continued to hold Jesus in existence in some way, then how could someone entirely open to God, as the scriptures tell us Jesus was, not sense God's presence? I won't multiply my questions further here. Needless to say, there were a number of them. So, I began at the beginning by looking up the Greek word for abandonment. What I discovered was that it is a composite word made up of three words: to leave, as in forsaken; down, as in (experiencing) defeat or hopelessness; and in, as in (left in) a set of hostile circumstances. When I put these together, I saw that "abandoned" meant "left in a hopeless set of hostile circumstances" or better, God "failed to rescue" Jesus from these circumstances. Abandonment thus meant the absence of rescue. And then I remembered several examples of someone loving me precisely in NOT rescuing me from terrible circumstances. One of these involved a story I believe I have told here before regarding my major theology teacher and a group of us undergraduates.

John Dwyer once said, "If I see you (any of you students) doing something stupid, I will not stop you! The majors among us looked bewilderedly at one another and asked, "But he loves us! How could he not rescue us??!!" John saw all this and went on, "If you are impaired in some way, yes, I will intervene, but if you are just making a stupid decision, I will not stop you!" He continued, "Let me be clear. I will always be there for you, and I will do what I can to help you both before and afterwards, but I will not rescue you from your decisions." It took me years to learn that this was what genuine love looked like!! It took me even longer to see this as the key to understanding Jesus' cry of abandonment.

Jesus "set his face toward Jerusalem". He took step after fateful step toward the authorities' violent reactions and subsequent actions as he continued to proclaim his Father's kingdom. His prayer in Gethsemane asked his Father if there wasn't another way, and, I believe that in response, his Abba asked him to continue acting with integrity,  choosing to discern and continue his vocation step by step, wherever those steps led him; I also believe he promised Jesus he would be with him -- for that was also his will. Jesus' Abba promised to reveal himself fully as Emmanuel (God with us), and Jesus continued to act with integrity and trust in his Abba's promises. God did NOT promise to rescue Jesus from the hostile circumstances his integrity led him to face. Quite the contrary. And in the very depths of Jesus' journey into the darkest absence of being and meaning, life and love, God was there. But Jesus' question in the Garden was also sharpened there on the cross: why can't you pluck me out of this situation? Why HAVEN'T you rescued me? How will you vindicate me and, more importantly, my proclamation of the truth of your Reign, your sovereignty, if sinful, godless death is allowed to win out? Don't you see, godless death is swallowing me up!! I have nothing whatsoever left to give!! My God (not the more intimate, Abba!), why haven't you rescued me? 

I don't think there is any sense that Jesus felt God turning away in a failure to love him -- and usually, it seems to me, that is what we mean when we speak of being abandoned by someone, namely, they failed or ceased to love us adequately or appropriately. God did not rescue Jesus from the depths of the darkness and anguish of his journey into godless, sinful death, but neither did he cease loving him profoundly and effectively. Neither did Jesus, for his part, close himself off from God (or from the depths of darkness and anguish). Jesus remained wholly open to God, and God continued to accompany him as Emmanuel into the farthest, most alien land we know. Here is the paradox. In his moment of deepest distress and even despair or near-despair, God was there and would bring consolation and life out of it all -- though not immediately or in the way we tend to expect or desire, perhaps. And this dark, even horrific, journey that Jesus made was made for God's sake and for ours. Indeed, it was the most human journey we are each called to make, the journey of inner or existential solitude where what seems infinitely dark and empty of either being or meaning to us, is also the place where we discover the presence of God, and so, a hope that is capable of sustaining and enlivening us in unimaginable ways.

We often want to be rescued from circumstances, and we cry out to God and others when this occurs, but God does not promise us rescue in the usual sense people mean this, I think. God's rescue means to give us the space to be ourselves and experience the consequences of our decisions (along with the consequences of others' decisions and actions as well, whether these are loving or unloving), and it means he will accompany us there. God's rescue means giving life and meaning to our circumstances, sometimes immediately, often eventually, or even only ultimately. God's rescue means transfiguring our darkness and anguish into sources of grace and hope, life and love, confidence and trust. He does this with his Mysterious presence, a presence we may not always be aware of and can never "comprehend". One point is incontrovertible: God cannot do this if he simply lifts us out of these circumstances and drops us into what is really some (or no) other person's life. That, as I eventually learned from John Dwyer's comments that day in that moral theology class, and from my spiritual director and others, for instance, would not really be loving.

The journey Jesus made, from birth right on up to Golgotha and beyond, was thoroughly human. Yes, in many ways, it was also the journey that human sin colored and made necessary. It was the journey of existential solitude, the journey we each make throughout life as we embrace death in all of its many degrees, forms, and faces so that God might redeem these with and in his life and love. Though you didn't ask about this, Merton understood that hermits (and monks and nuns more generally) make this inner journey in a way most do not because they choose and commit their lives to doing so!** They make this choice so that they might experience genuine hope rooted in God and the Christ Event for the sake of God's Kingdom and Gospel. Doctrine, per se, while important, is not enough for the life of the Body of Christ. Interpretations of the cross by others are a critical start, but what is essential if one is to really witness to the truth of the Gospel to others, and bring them to genuine hope, is the truth of our own experience -- even, and perhaps especially when that experience is one of journeying into the shadow of death and despair or near-despair. Recently, I said to my director, "I would not wish this particular journey on anyone, and yet, what I have come to as a result of this very journey, I want for everyone!" 

I think that too is reflected in Merton's comments cited above and in the following continuation of those comments, The language of Christianity has been so used and so misused that sometimes [we] distrust it: [we] don't know whether behind the word 'Cross' there stands the experience of mercy and salvation, or only the threat of punishment. If my word means anything to you, I can say that I have experienced the Cross to mean mercy and not cruelty, truth and not deception: that the news of the truth and love of Jesus is indeed the good news, but in our time it speaks out in strange places. Recently, as I think you refer to, I wrote about hermits under c 603 as pioneers and explorers. What hermits explore is the realm of existential solitude, and that brings with it both great suffering and ineffable joy. We do this because our experience here undergirds and verifies the Church's proclamation of the Gospel. We do this for her, as well as for ourselves and for the entire world. 

One person recently also asked me if I knew what I was committing myself to when I made my perpetual eremitical profession and accepted consecration. I have to say, no, not clearly. Maybe hardly at all. It never occurred to me that the darknesses and anguished places I explored along this journey could truly benefit anyone -- sometimes not even myself -- yet now I know that in that "strange place" occasioned by trauma and serious and chronic illness, that place where I faced despair and the desire for death straight on while yearning almost beyond words for life and wholeness, is a privileged place where I met God (and my truest self) and was granted the hope, joy, and healing that such an encounter brings. THAT is the journey of existential solitude, and it is also the heart of Paul's theology of the Cross that I, in my youthful "naivete", once told Abp Vigneron I wanted to explore and understand completely. 

I know this doesn't answer all of your questions, but it is already quite long, and I hope it is a good start. May the peace of Christ be with you!!

** Consider what every Benedictine affirms as their primary motivation when they enter a monastery. They declare they are here "to seek God". They do this, not because they do not know God or because God has "gone missing" from the larger world, but because they do not know themselves or God as well or as profoundly as they are called to, and because the monastery (or hermitage) is a privileged place to pursue such intimate knowing. It is this journey of existential solitude, a journey in search of fullness of life and hope rooted in God, that they enter to pursue. So too with every hermit under c 603.

Once Again on C 603 Vocations as Ecclesial Vocations

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Questions Pointing to a Hermit's Fundamental Experience and Vision of c 603 Life

Dear Sister Laurel, [[How many spiritual direction clients in a day are prudent or wise? Is a diocesan hermit bound to all of the Offices [Liturgy of Hours or Divine Office] or how does one know what is prudent for the amount of Offices in a day. Are hermits allowed to have a pet (a diocesan hermit), because how does this relate to the vow of poverty? Is it best to have Certain times to check email and messages? Family visits? Yes? No? If so how long? Outings with close friends from time to time? Yes or no? Friends or benefactors to do grocery pickup? Should hermits go to stores?]]

In the main, these sound to me like the kinds of questions those just beginning to consider eremitical life might ask. They are good questions because, for the most part, they point to deeper and more fundamental issues an aspiring diocesan hermit is likely to need to implement and even struggle with. These questions might be an important part of that process, but they are less important than the underlying eremitical foundation that needs to be established. They are not questions to which I can give an answer that is carved in stone because each one must be worked out by the hermit over time with the assistance of a spiritual director or mentor as the hermit candidate begins to think about their Rule of Life. (And actually, these look like exactly the questions one might ask if one was creating a Rule of Life that was composed of "do's and don'ts" or "how often and how much" kinds of points rather than a Rule rooted in a lived experience of some years reflecting a vision of eremitical life under c 603.) Because these questions remind me of the questions asked by those who are new to eremitical life, especially if they have never been aided in writing a liveable Rule of Life (or who also may never have lived one before), I am going to approach them this way. I think that will be most helpful, particularly since the questioner agreed to my posting them here in the hope they could help others.

So, as I begin to respond to these questions, let me suggest that other posts I have put up here on writing a liveable Rule or writing a Rule of Life are important as background and should be referred to. The most important caveat I can reiterate is that if one is writing a Rule of Life that is truly liveable, it must be rooted in the candidate's lived experience. Expect that the process of preparing to write and writing such a Rule with the help of a mentor will, on average, take approximately two to four years depending on the degree of preparation one has in this. This process is important for candidates and their dioceses in discerning and providing the appropriate formation needed to live c 603 eremitical life well. A liveable Rule can never be just a list of things I do and things I avoid doing (though it will likely include some of these). Each of the questions above needs to fit organically and integrally into a sound vision of eremitical life that is edifying to the Church and world! They must demonstrate a sense of c 603 and what living the terms of that canon means and requires of the individual hermit!! All of my responses to these questions presuppose this fundamental truth.

How many spiritual direction clients in a day are prudent or wise? First of all, it must always be remembered that hermits who do spiritual direction are primarily hermits. We are called to live the silence of solitude and stricter separation from the world (i.e., that which is resistant to Christ), and only thereafter or within this foundational context are we involved in limited ministry.  So, for instance, I don't see clients every day (or even every week) and I rarely see more than two or three on the days I do see clients. The same is true of mentoring other hermits or hermit candidates. To do more than this demands more time and energy than I have to give to this, and it begins to be destructive of my eremitical life itself. Others will have different circumstances than I do and may be able to see more clients.  Even so, every c 603 hermit must remember that active ministry is always a part-time and significantly limited part of our lives. If we do this kind of work, it must spill over from our lives in the silence of solitude and draw us back into this context as well. Especially, it must not be a relief from our silence of solitude or something we do to give our lives meaning (though of course it can add to its meaning). Instead, it must be a limited activity we offer to others because our lives already have a fullness of meaning, the meaning that comes from being called to be a solitary hermit who witnesses to the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Our ministry to others is an expression of this meaning spilling over beyond the hermitage walls.

Unless the hermit is also a priest, or writes this requirement into his/her Rule, the c 603 hermit is not required (in Law) to say any hours of the Liturgy of the Hours. That said, it is really difficult for me to understand how a hermit living in and as part of the beating heart of the Church could live a day without praying the official Prayer of the Church in some significant way. Some hermits pray 2 or 3 of the hours (Lauds, Vespers, Compline, and Vigils or the Office of Readings are the major ones included here) while others pray at least some of the minor hours as well.  We each need to discover the number of Hours necessary as an aid to praying our day, in fact, in praying our very lives day in and day out. For some, the LOH is really helpful in this, and especially, it allows us to be true to an ecclesial vocation reflecting belonging to and representing the long Judeo-Christian tradition of prayer. For many of us, praying the Hours also reminds us of our standing as religious under c 603. Personally, I understand the LOH to be a striking symbol of this (c 603) vocation's ecclesial nature and a significant way to ensure our lives are steeped in Scripture.

Diocesan hermits are allowed to have pets, of course. (Anchorites are often known for having a cat, for instance!) Your question is really about evangelical or religious poverty though. Some hermits would see the cost of caring adequately for a pet (food, medical care, time for adequate exercise and play, and training (not for cats, of course!)) as making such a pet an extravagance or a distraction. Others of us find the pets necessary as part of our vocation both to be fully human and to care for God's creation as we can. Poverty has never been defined in only one way in the history of religious life or the Gospel Counsels. So, for instance, Franciscan poverty is different from Benedictine poverty is different from Carmelite poverty, and so on. 

Myself with Merton the Tom (RIP)

Similarly, the poverty enjoined on laypersons by the Gospel differs significantly from religious poverty because laypersons tend to have to care for their families, provide for the education of children, and sometimes care for elderly parents or other relatives as well, yet every Christian is called to this Evangelical Counsel in some sense. In my own approach to the religious poverty of the consecrated vocation, I stress complete dependence on God. Finances are a secondary part of that, but they are a real part of it nonetheless. My own income is very limited (about $1200 a month). I do have a cat and that expense is offset by sacrifices I make so that I may care for him. "Sneezy", however, is a literal gift of God to me (he showed up one Winter with a bad cold and took up residence) and provides me with things money cannot buy; I have determined it is important to my own health and wholeness to make these accommodations, at least at the present time.

I do think it is important to have times (morning, afternoon, and evening, for example) to check and respond to email, yes. This is especially important when one has clients, one might need to get back to them quickly. Still, it is not something one usually schedules unless one has difficulty staying away from the computer!!). Instead, it is something one's schedule allows for when one is free from other activities/periods. For instance, I may check email and messages before breakfast or supper and again before Compline and bed. If I am writing for several hours, I may break from that and check email then because I am already working at my computer. (If I am journaling, that is a different matter, and while I may break for a cup of tea or a snack, I will not check email or messages then.) In this small matter too, it is up to the individual to reflect on what their lived experience has taught them and work out a solution that allows them to live the terms of c 603 and their own Rule with integrity.

Home visits or visits with relatives and friends should be worked out in the same way as appointments with clients, and access to email and messaging. What is truly healthy for the individual hermit and her way of life? What is truly loving? What can she manage financially or in terms of her schedule? When does contact with others begin to detract from the silence of solitude and stricter separation, for instance? For some people, time with family will be brief because we really do need to get back to our ordinary schedule and activities (families can be demanding in many ways!); frequency and duration are something a hermit must determine for themselves. I will make one caveat, though; namely, a hermit should be able to lay aside a lot of (the details of) her hermit life for the relatively brief time she is with her family. She should be present to these others as the person they (each) know and love. She must not "play hermit" or (within reason, of course) refuse to participate in the activities they enjoy and want to share with her. I once read a hermit write about "only talking about spiritual things" when with her loved ones. One can always ask what, when looked at in the way God does, is NOT a spiritual thing, but the way to approach this matter, I sincerely believe, is for the hermit to simply be entirely present in all she is and does with family and, in this way, bring God's love to bear (but also discover and contemplate this same love as it is present) within the family.

Generally speaking, there is no reason a hermit should not go to stores to pick up what is needed. It has all kinds of benefits both for the hermit and for those she might meet and talk with during such trips! Hermits are not recluses, at least the vast majority are not. I have my groceries delivered; I began that because of the pandemic. I continue it because it is very helpful and convenient for getting everything I need (I don't drive, so carrying things home is difficult). And sometimes I simply need to get out of my hermitage and, if needed, to run errands. At those times, I meet people, converse, maybe stop to have a brief coffee with someone who would like to talk, etc. Again, generally speaking, all of that is fine. The thing we need to be aware of is who we are in these times and what we truly need. If our eremitical life is sound, we will want to get back home as soon as is practicable, and we should be able to settle into our usual routine when we return. 

Again, it is up to each hermit, her vision of the life, and her Rule of Life, to determine how she answers these and other questions. Circumstances change, and things that would be permissible at one time might be something one needs to skip at another. In all situations, our lives are lived in dialogue with God in the silence of solitude, and whatever choices we make need to continue and deepen or expand that dialogue.