On the Essential Hiddenness of the Diocesan Hermit (Reprise from 2008)

[[Okay, so why would one want people to know they are a hermit unless they want notoriety or recognition of that? You have referred to the essential hiddenness of the vocation, but you also write that people in your parish might think you are just a contemplative sister without the cowl and other trappings. So, what do you really want, to be hidden or to be known? Isn't this, along with the emphasis on active participation in the parish, kind of hypocritical or at least inconsistent?]]

First, let me point out I referred to "merely" a contemplative sister (with merely in quotes) so that, hopefully, I indicated that I think very highly of such a vocation. My point was simply that that is not all I am. I also think it is desirable to have others recognize at least the general nature of a vocation that someone was called to out of their midst and on their behalf (as happens in the call at the beginning of the rite of perpetual profession). However, that aside for the moment, the eremitical vocation is both ancient and relatively new in the church. The existence of hermits remains quite rare, and despite a modest increase in numbers (and a larger increase in those who have climbed on what is a faddist bandwagon but will never actually be true hermits [see note at bottom]), it will, I suspect, always remain quite rare.

What is not rare in today's world though, is the alienation, estrangement, and isolation that affects and afflicts so many --- especially the single elderly, the chronically ill and disabled, the isolated poor living in the unnatural solitudes of blighted urban areas, those working day in and day out in an "ordinariness" which leads to the questioning of their own value or that of their lives, etc. It is to these people especially I think the hermit can speak specially and powerfully, for the hermit says with her life that isolation can be transformed with the grace of God into something far more meaningful and fruitful, namely a solitude which witnesses with special vividness to the Gospel of God in Christ.

By the way, recognition is not necessarily a bad thing. What God does in our midst deserves to be made known in one way or another. This does not necessarily conflict with what I have called the essential hiddenness of the vocation either (which is defined by Canon Law as a greater or stricter separation from the world, rather than as absolute separation or reclusion). The identity of the canonical hermit is a public one in the legal sense of that term. So, the canonical hermit lives out the witness of the core of her vocation, namely that God alone is sufficient for us, that he will always work to bring life out of death, light out of darkness, meaning out of meaninglessness, and wholeness out of brokenness. She says this with her life, and this is the case whether she has been brought to eremitic life through illness (or other challenges) herself or not. She also clearly says that any person is made for communion with God, that God lives at the heart of each person and wills to love them exhaustively, just as he wills them to return this love as exhaustively as they can. To live a serious prayer life, and in fact to be God's own prayers in this world is the essential vocation of every person, and the hermit lives as a reminder of this. I personally believe my life bears witness to much of this, and I seek to do so more profoundly and extensively.

As for what I want, well that is fairly simple and straightforward: I want to do what God wills for me, by living my Rule of Life, the Camaldolese charism, the unique charism of the diocesan hermit, according to the discernment I come to with the help of my director, pastor, Bishop, and others. The Camaldolese charism is particularly significant here since it involves a three-fold set of dimensions or "goods": 1) the cenobitic (communal), 2) the eremitical (solitary), and 3) the evangelical (the dimension of proclaiming or witnessing to the Gospel whether this be through hospitality, spiritual direction, writing, painting, etc). The Camaldolese charism itself justifies my limited active participation in the life of my parish community, but so does, I believe, the charism of diocesan eremitism. While it is true my life is lived with and for God alone, that is expressed in a concrete commitment to those he cherishes, particularly my diocese and parish. On the other hand, what is also true is that the majority of this commitment is lived out "in cell," not in direct participation in the events and activities of the parish. My limited participation enlivens and concretizes what happens within the hermitage, while what happens in the hermitage deepens and universalizes what is celebrated in the events and activities of the parish.

While it is common to think and question in sort of black and white, either/or terms and queries, the truth is that quite often Christian discipleship (of which eremitism is one expression) must be lived out in paradoxical ways, not either/or, but both/and. As I have said before, one must be careful not to fool oneself --- and we are all more than a little capable of rationalizing behavior that runs counter to that we are truly called to --- but once one determines the Holy Spirit is behind a certain impulse, etc, one must go with that. By the way, perhaps you are envisioning more than what I envision when I use the phrase "active participation" in the parish. I have described these other places so I won't do that again here, but I will say that it is not an "emphasis" in my life (real though it may be) and is truly minimal when I consider what is actually possible for me.

This brings us back to the question of the nature of the hiddenness which is the hermit's. What is this essential hiddenness I have spoken of, and others have also written about? Well, it has to do with who I really am, where my "real work" takes place, and just what that separates me from. For instance, despite your reading of my blog, you really have very little sense of my day-to-day life. People who see me daily at Mass or at an occasional parish event do not see me in the hermitage, tend not to be able to imagine what the shape of my days are like, etc. The hermit's life really is essentially hidden, and most specifically, hidden in the cell where the largest part of her life actually takes place. It is hidden in God, hidden in prayer, hidden from the eyes of those who might want to see inside, hidden even from the Church who commissions the hermit to withdraw (from the Gk, anachoresis) in this way.

Yes, she can list the various things she does: Office, lectio, quiet prayer, personal work, ordinary chores, study, writing, and direction, but really, what does this actually reveal? As far as I can tell, it leaves the essential mystery of the life intact. No, the life is one of essential hiddenness even if one does not remain completely anonymous, leaves the hermitage on occasion, wears a recognizable habit, or participates in the occasional parish or other activity. (And of course, non-parishioners don't know any of this at all; they see a sister -- no more nor less.) As you can tell, I don't think there is necessarily any real contradiction or hypocrisy involved so long as one is very clear where one's real life and ministry lie and does not allow that to be compromised. I hope this helps clarify matters.

[note: my reference to the faddist bandwagon was not directed to non-canonical hermits who live a truly eremitical life. The church clearly recognizes these hermits as a serious eremitical expression. It is directed, however, to those persons who think they can be hermits "on the weekends," or something similar. There are many "wannabes" out there in this as in any field or vocation, but most will never really embrace true solitude, nor will they therefore be able to witness to those people who cannot CHOOSE their (physical) solitude but need to hear it can be transformed with God's grace.]

Continuing Questions re: Misconceptions and Misconstruals

[[Sister Laurel, apologies, but it has taken me a while to decide what I really wanted to ask after locating your blog. (I came to it through Joyful Hermit Speaks videos and references to you and OSV.) [cf. Hermit's Rant of Temporal Upsets, see 28:40 passim] How long has c 603 existed, and how long have you been perpetually professed or consecrated and writing a blog? Joyful speaks of you creating all kinds of precedents for c 603 hermits and lists a number of things that now happen "since you began your blog" or maybe were professed in the last 17 years, I guess because of your great influence with bishops! But it all seemed a little bit off because I thought c 603 was a lot older than that. Do you really have the kind of influence she claims you have? The one other question I have is about hiddenness and why you can have a public presence when c 603 requires hiddenness and anonymity of c 603 hermits.]]

I've responded to some of this before in, Clarifying Misconceptions and Untruths, so you might want to check that out. The simple answer is no, of course not, my influence is relatively minuscule if it even reaches that level!! The accusation that I have almost single-handedly influenced the implementation of c 603 by every bishop in the world makes me laugh. My sense is that often even English-speaking bishops and their staff from the dioceses I have worked with in assisting with their implementation of the canon, have not read my blog! As I noted in the linked piece, this is a small, niche-type blog and it gets an average of only @ 150 visits per day presently (usually fewer). Yes, folks interested in c 603, or who are seeking to become c 603 hermits, some canonists and other diocesan staff do read this blog and tender questions, and yes, as mentioned, I do work with some candidates for c 603 profession; I assist them with discernment and formation using the elements of c 603 focusing on the lengthy and really creative process of preparing to write and writing a liveable Rule of Life. This process is a key for the candidate's formation as well as in the education of dioceses and their own formation teams with regard to c 603.

In the past 19 years (and more), I have certainly learned a lot about c 603 and been led by God through c 603 to understand eremitical life more profoundly than I did when I wrote my second Rule for perpetual profession in 2007. I have achieved some authority, yes, and I am trying to share what I have learned with the Church, but the picture drawn by JHS of my single-handed destruction of the traditional hermit vocation and my supposed extensive influence on bishops and dioceses worldwide is, I think, simply delusional. Here your question is a really good one for reality-testing. Canon 603 was promulgated in 1983 and I applied to be professed within the next couple of years. However, that process took some time (after using the canon once, my first bishop had decided not to profess anyone under c 603 for the foreseeable future); thus, I did not begin a blog or make perpetual profession and consecration until 2007 (May and September respectively) under a new bishop! That means for 24 years c 603 was being implemented all over the world, and customs were being developed, especially by groups of bishops from various countries, without any influence from me (except for my prayer, I suppose)! 

All of this included the wearing of habits and taking of religious names, the celebration of perpetual professions (and sometimes temporary professions) at Mass and other things JHS lays at my door. The Handbook on Canons 573-746 made it very clear that canon 603 now meant that those so professed were considered religious despite not having a connection with a religious congregation or institute. This was an important shift in thought and practice (and, of course, it had nothing to do with me!). (cf On the Meaning of Institutes and More.) Even before that CICLSAL opined that the wearing of a habit and adoption of a religious name were appropriate for a c 603 hermit if the bishop decided to allow it.

Regarding the hiddenness of the hermit, several recent posts might help you with that, but one thing I will point out is the place JHS is completely mistaken, namely, c 603 which is normative of how the hermit lives this life, does not mention hiddenness. It especially does not mention anonymity, much less does it require this.  In general, consecrated eremitical life is hidden, and at the same time it is public and ecclesial which means there is a tension between these two elements. The hiddenness of the life is referred to in the Catechism of the Catholic Church, but anonymity is never mentioned there either. To make anonymity normative is a significant error, not least because it draws attention primarily to externals. Hiddenness, however, is something c 603 hermits should and do embrace as they undertake that inner journey characteristic of eremitical life. I find that one of the most illustrative texts on this kind of hiddenness includes the following:

[[. . .let us reflect on the fact that Nazareth is the deep, mysterious hiddenness of our identity and vocation. It is the life we live with God alone and which, no matter how public our lives, God alone knows and shares with us. . . It is the call to sink into the depths of the mystery of the hidden life of Jesus, the life he shared with God to which John's gospel so movingly alludes. . . .The spiritual path of Charles de Foucauld was modeled on the hidden life of Jesus of Nazareth, a way of constant abandonment to the love of God, whether in the silence of desert spaces or in the midst of others. . . . Nazareth is the place of our hidden, secret life, the veiled life known to God alone. It is a life so deep that there are aspects of it that, if not hidden from, are at least mysterious even to ourselves.]] Hidden in God, Bonnie Thurston 

Note how the focus of this hiddenness has to do with the depths of oneself and one's relationship with God.  Charles de Foucauld identified three spaces we might live in: 1) Nazareth, 2) the Desert, and 3) in the midst of others (sometimes referred to as the City). As noted above, hiddenness is about a formative dynamic or relationship deep within us, a profound and mysterious dimension defined in terms of our relationship with God alone. Externals are not unimportant for the hermit, of course; they contribute to our ability to truly attend to this dimension of Mystery, but what is critical, especially to a hermit is this "inner Nazareth." As I have written before, hermits are generally not called to absolutize elements of the canon like the silence of solitude, stricter separation from the world, or the (external) hiddenness that derives from them. Most hermits are not called to reclusion, and more importantly, charity and the demands of personal growth will affect the way we can and must live these elements. Still, they are meant to serve this more intimate hiddenness, our inner Nazareth where we are alone with the Alone. Together they constitute a relative hiddenness characteristic of the eremitical life.

Thanks again for your questions. I am still fielding occasional queries because of the video JHS put up about a month ago (cf link above re Hermit's Rant) --- though she makes the same groundless and speculative accusations against me and others in other places. I won't post unimportant clarifications and I will continue to try not to repeat those I have already provided, but I especially thought your question on hiddenness was important given what I have written recently about the public, ecclesial nature of the c 603 vocation.

Hiddenness at the Service of Mystery (Reprise)

One of the things I did [last year] that was more than a bit out of the ordinary was to watch the coronation of King Charles III, and I want to repost it because of the recent focus on hiddenness serving the revelation of Mystery. I had seen the coronation of  Queen Elizabeth II when I was just shy of 4 yo and it was a memorable occasion viewed on a small black and white TV. It may even have contributed to my response to Catholic liturgy when I was in my teens. In any case, I knew I wanted to watch this coronation even though it meant losing most of a night's sleep to do so. I am not sorry I did. And, while it was all beautifully done and moving (the 3&1/2-year-old still inside me seemed gobsmacked at the COLOR and the horses!!!), one moment especially stood out, not only because it differed from the coronation of Charle's Mother, or because the symbolism was incredibly well-done, but because it was the holiest moment of the coronation per se. 

In 1953 when it came time for Queen Elizabeth II to be anointed, a large gold canopy was moved over her and people stood looking away from her. TV cameras were somehow blocked from any real view of what was happening and I remember trying to see under the canopy and being puzzled by it all. The Queen had been divested of all of her regal finery and was wearing a (relatively) simple white dress. But then came this great canopy and the commentators were talking (more softly I seemed to remember) about something I could neither see nor understand. What I did register somewhere deep within myself was the gravity of the moment, especially as steps were taken to shield the queen, and what was happening to her, from view --- even in the midst of a great throng of interested and supportive people.

Move forward 70 years. Charles III is similarly stripped down to his pants and a simple white shirt. The royal finery is folded and carried away for the moment. Members of the household guard carry in three large decorated screens, the poles which will hold them in place, and assemble them around the King with an opening toward the high altar. There is no canopy, but the King is hidden even more entirely than his Mother had been. As a really nice touch, the household guards face away from the screens except for those holding the poles in place. All have their eyes averted, looking down at the ground. In the midst of this huge cathedral, innumerable digital cameras, people hungry to see every last detail, thousands of guests, and millions of onlookers via media, the Royal family and the Church of England have managed to say clearly, [[Here at the heart of our monarchy is something hidden and inviolable, something incontestably intimate and sacred, something dynamic, living, that --- through the mediation of the church --- occurs between God and the monarch him or herself.]]

It was striking to me that the most profound and profoundly mysterious moment of the coronation was marked by hiddenness. At this moment when the King was anointed, it was hiddenness that was the most powerfully articulate expression of and witness to Mystery. In a ritual enveloped by layers and layers of pomp and color, history and tradition, ritual and symbolism, here was a moment in which an individual temporarily enclosed and shielded from the eyes of others, went into the hiddenness of his own heart and, despite the presence of priests, soldiers, family, and the nations of the world, was alone with his God, seeking and consenting to allow God to do what only God could do, namely, to consecrate him for service to God, his Church, and his people. All of the pomp and pageantry paled for me in comparison to Charles in his simple pants and plain white shirt assenting to being enclosed in the hiddenness of this sacred-making moment. That was underscored for me when I learned that Charles had asked for greater hiddenness than the canopy had allowed his Mother and others in the past.

There are numerous reasons for embracing some degree of hiddenness. They can be good or bad, desirable or undesirable, worthy or unworthy of us. Hermits choose a life of relative hiddenness which serves in significant ways as a witness to Mystery at the heart of life. They choose, not hiddenness as an end in itself, but Mystery and participation in Mystery. They choose hiddenness indirectly because, as was true for Charles III, this is a privileged context for meeting the living God and letting ourselves be vulnerable to him. Today, I am particularly grateful to have seen this value chosen and celebrated by Charles III for the sake of an encounter with the living God. Charles put hiddenness at the service of a moment of ineffable intimacy with Mystery which pomp and ceremony needed to be made to serve. It was liturgy very well done indeed!

Why I do not Remain Anonymous

[[Sister Laurel, why don't you insist on anonymity? I read where one Catholic Hermit says she wants to remain anonymous as part of her hiddenness, though she has at least a couple of blogs (she has dropped the pseudonym Joyful Hermit) and has made videos as well. She points out that some communities have hermits who publish anonymously so she sees this as common. I wondered how you think about this and your own blogging.]]

Thanks for your questions. Similar questions have been posed here a number of times so you might check the labels to the right. To repeat a lot of that, I am a  (solitary) Catholic Hermit which means I am publicly professed and consecrated to live eremitical life in the name of the Church. When my bishop presented me with my cowl he very specifically did so at the part of the liturgy that commissioned me to take this sign of my consecration and minister faithfully in the name of the Church. While I could certainly decide to remain anonymous I would at least need to identify myself as a "Hermit of  the Diocese of Oakland" (as, in addition to my name, I am identified in the affidavit given to attest to my public profession and consecration). Because my vocation is a public one it is associated with public rights and obligations, and also with expectations others have every right to hold in my regard. To claim to be a Catholic Hermit or a consecrated Catholic Hermit means to accept and even claim that others have the right to verify such claims. It seems to me that one needs either to remain entirely hidden (no blogging, no videos, no online participation) or to be open about who one is. As I have said before, the moment one claims to be a Catholic Hermit, one ceases to be able to remain entirely anonymous; at the very least one is obligated to provide (or indicate) the identity of one's legitimate superior and/or diocese as a necessary expression of the accountability associated with the vocation.

Note well that when Carthusian or Camaldolese hermits, for instance, publish anonymously, they also indicate their congregation or order. The congregation or order accepts responsibility for the book or piece being published and add their name; often they will run the work past censors in the order before allowing it to be published (less common today than was once true). Whether censored or not, the fundamental point however remains, namely, anonymity for someone claiming to be a Catholic monk, nun, or hermit is linked to a very real accountability and thus, to canonical structures and relationships even when one's name is not used. If one ministers in the name of the Church (including contemplative lives of assiduous prayer and penance), then one is publicly accountable both for one's identity and for one's ministry. One cannot claim to be a Catholic hermit (not a Catholic and a hermit, but a Catholic hermit) without also taking on the accountability related to it. Yes, there are frauds or counterfeits out there (the author of A Catholic Hermit blog is, though perhaps without knowing this, one such counterfeit; she claims the rights of such a vocation without accepting the responsibilities or obligations linked to these); in any case, those who are truly Catholic Hermits living ecclesial vocations will be identifiable by name and/or in terms of the diocese or order which has admitted them canonically to profession and consecration.

Thus, (and I sincerely hope some of this is new!) I do not remain anonymous because I am legally and morally accountable for what I  write here as part of a public ecclesial vocation and because I attempt to live a solitary eremitical life in a way which is edifying to others. My commitment is not a private one though it is essentially hidden. I write in the way I do because I believe it is a service for this vocation and for the Church more generally, and because, to the extent this is true, I am sometimes consulted on this vocation. I do it because God, through the whole of my life, has formed me for this while through the Church's own discernment God has entrusted me with such a unique call and the challenge to explore its depths, breadth, and contemporary shape. I also do it so folks can contend with, deepen. or correct my own insufficient understanding and misunderstandings. Canon 603 hermits are a new and relatively rare breed of hermit life; it is similar to all other forms of Catholic eremitical life but it also differs in the way accountability is established and exercised. People need to understand this --- especially those who have never heard of the vocation, those who might consider it for themselves, and those who might be taken in by those showing up at their parish claiming to be a Catholic Hermit who won't participate in the liturgical life of the community or even give their name because of claims regarding the demands of "eremitical hiddenness".

I don't think I approach your questions much differently than any other canonical hermit. We don't refuse to remain anonymous because of arrogance or "vainglory"; we do so because the way to this ecclesial vocation has been long, sometimes arduous and even traumatic, but always a rewarding journey to find our path to remain faithful to God, to our truest selves, and to the call to love one another in and as Christ loves. God takes improbable personal stories and transforms them into the rare but very real love stories of hermits. I and the other Catholic hermits I know exult in the gift God makes of our lives in this way. We embrace an essential hiddenness and witness to it as well. This paradox of our vocations (canonically public and responsible yet also hidden) matches the paradox of what God has done with our weakness and personal inadequacy, but also with our potential for covenantal life; it is an awesome thing we are called to, an awesome thing we live and witness to.

I hope this is helpful.

On Eremitical Life, Hiddenness, and Illness

[[Dear Sister, what happens to hermits when they become ill? If one is supposed to "be hidden from the eyes of men" then how do they manage illnesses? Can they get help from others? Can they make Doctor's visits? I have been reading a blog post [title omitted here by Sister Laurel] by a Catholic hermit who claims that illness is a real issue because the hermit is supposed to live a hidden life. Her situation (she is too weak to get up to fix meals or even to go to the doctor) raises other questions for me. How can a diocesan bishop allow a hermit to be in such circumstances?  How do you balance the hiddenness of your vocation with times of illness. Do you ever need assistance with things? How do you handle that?]]

Interesting questions! Let me start by outlining something about "hiddenness" itself. This will not only explain why "hiddenness" is not present in canon 603 while it is present in the catechism's paragraphs on eremitical life, but it will also prepare the way for thinking about your questions re illness.

Hiddenness is not a primary value:

The hiddenness of the Catholic hermit (that is, the hiddenness of the hermit whom the Church herself has admitted to public profession and consecration!!) is only implicitly defined by canon 603. While hiddenness is explicitly mentioned in the catechism, this text is not legislative or prescriptive. It is descriptive but not prescriptive in the same way the central elements of c 603 are prescriptive. This does not mean hiddenness is unimportant, but it does mean it is derived from and secondary to the elements of the life c.603 legislates. A canonical or consecrated hermit is not bound to live hiddenness; it is the result of and is shaped by the things she IS bound to live, namely, stricter separation from the world, the silence of solitude, assiduous prayer and penance, the evangelical counsels, all supervised by the diocesan bishop and those he delegates to do so in his place. What this means is that as significant as hiddenness may be to the Catholic hermit, these other elements have priority to any notion of hiddenness; more, these other things give a better sense of what defines eremitical life!

Another way of looking at this is to note that hiddenness may or may not be edifying. It is the reasons one manifests hiddenness that are more important than hiddenness itself, I think. What I mean is that in eremitical life hiddenness is rarely a value in and of itself (in most areas of life hiddenness -- not privacy or discretion --- is a disvalue and this can be true even in eremitical life). That is especially true in Christian eremitical life where witness is a very high value in this and other forms of discipleship. (For that matter discipleship is itself a very high value which must be seen to undergird other values like solitude, silence, and penance, for instance.) Because I embrace a life of the silence of solitude and assiduous prayer and penance, I will find there is an essential hiddenness about my life, but you see, my life is a hidden one because my engagement with God and my commitment to life mainly takes place in a hermit's cell. Thus, the questions I ask myself in discerning whether I am called to this or that activity (outside the general outlines of my Rule) is rooted in whether these are commitments to God and life in and for God in my eremitical calling, not whether it fosters hiddenness or not.

To choose hiddenness for its own sake may allow or even invite one to mask all kinds of problems or label any form of separation from others as "eremitical" when they are really a refusal to engage or to live with and for others, that is, when they are a refusal to love as Christians are called to love. Self-hatred, misanthropy, selfishness, and any number of other "pathologies" can take root and/or thrive in "hiddenness from the eyes of (others)". The reason for one's hiddenness is and must be rooted in a higher and transcendent value which makes hiddenness itself meaningful as a Christian value. For the solitary Catholic (canonical) hermit some of these are the central elements of canon 603. For the Catholic (i.e., the canonical) hermit who is part of a community or congregation they are the central elements of their Rule and Constitutions.

Dealing With Illness and other Needs:

All of this helps explain why canon 603, the canon which governs (consecrated) solitary eremitical life in the Roman Catholic Church does not even mention "hiddenness from the eyes of men," while the catechism includes this. Again, the canon is prescriptive in nature; it defines the elements which are primary or essential. It prescribes these as essential --- like a doctor prescribing medications indicates these are essential. The catechism is descriptive and includes elements which are secondary or derivative --- that is, elements which are less essential, or which derive from the more primary, essential elements; these are still part of the picture drawn by someone describing eremitical life as a whole.

If I thought I was primarily or mainly called to live a life of "hiddenness from the eyes of (others)" I would struggle constantly with whether or not I could leave my hermitage to shop, attend Mass, go to doctor's visits, or even (as I did today) attend a Town hall meeting on stopping gun violence! Heck, I would have to question whether one could even be called to public vows if one is primarily called to this same hiddenness. But I am called to live an essentially Christian eremitical vocation of assiduous prayer and penance in the silence of solitude. Sometimes that means being openly and demonstrably a member of a number of human communities! Moreover, I am a Catholic hermit with a serious chronic illness. That means I have needs and must meet them if I am to live life prayerfully --- that is attentively, gratefully, and responsibly.

Like most folks I have a number of people I can call for assistance. My director and I meet regularly here at the hermitage and she is available in between meetings should I need to contact her. I belong to a parish community and am ordinarily able to attend Mass 2-3 days a week; parish members, my pastor, a number of friends, are all available should I need various kinds of assistance. I generally simply need to ask, and we will find a way to work things out together. But let me be clear here, in most situations I am the one responsible for initiating contact or the request for help. I do not expect people to read my mind and precisely because the majority of my life is undertaken in the silence of solitude, I don't expect folks to worry about me or call to check on me if they don't see me for some time.

If I become as sick as the person you describe purportedly is or was, then arrangements would need to be made for regular assistance unless hospitalization is the real need. In such a situation there would be absolutely no problem at all having people come into the hermitage to assist me and no problem if I need transportation to doctors' appointments or if I need to be hospitalized. As noted above, canonical (consecrated) hermits do NOT primarily commit to remain hidden from others. They commit to an essentially solitary vocation of Christian life and love where the foundational and defining relationship is a hidden one. The diocesan hermit's delegate or director, and ultimately, of course, her Bishop are responsible for ensuring she can (and does) live her Rule and fulfill her vows --- along with anything else which constitute essential elements of her eremitical calling.

This is true in initial discernment, through temporary vows (which should allow sufficient time for the diocese to be sure the person can truly live the life before admission to perpetual profession; they will continue to do something similar after perpetual profession as well. (While serious failures to live eremitical life after perpetual profession might actually require dispensation of vows, elder hermits becoming seriously ill after years of living eremitical life, for instance, are another matter. Though these hermits might well need to move to some form of assisted or modified solitary/communal living to deal adequately with their illness or disability no one would seriously suggest their vows should be dispensed.)

As a point of information however, the blogger you are referring to, is not a consecrated (canonical) hermit. She is a lay person living as a dedicated hermit with private vows. This means her bishop is no more directly responsible for supervising the way she lives than he is for supervising the way any other lay person in his diocese lives. Her life may raise all kinds of questions but the actions of the bishop of her diocese do not --- at least not in her regard.

I hope this is helpful.

On the Hiddenness of Eremitical Life

 [[Hi Sister, I wondered if you find the idea of the hiddenness of your vocation difficult. I was especially wondering if there is some part of "remaining hidden" that is particularly challenging to you? Have you chosen to blog in response to this or maybe in spite of this?]]

Really terrific questions! Yes, there is a dimension of eremitical hiddenness that has been difficult for me, namely, it has been challenging to come to a really adequate or more complete understanding of what I am being asked to witness to or how my life proclaims the Gospel if it is hidden in the sense most folks understand the term. When I considered eremitical life originally I thought it was supremely selfish and in one way and another I have been dealing with residual bits of that conviction throughout my own struggle with the vocation's hiddenness. After all, we have texts like Jesus' clear teaching that one ought not put one's light under a bushel basket but instead place it on a lampstand so that all may see (by) it, and of course there is the clear commandment that we love one another as God loves us. Eremitical solitude and hiddenness seem to fly in the face of these and similar central bits of the Gospel Tradition.

Trusting the Light Mediated by Hiddenness:

If you notice the way I amended the text above regarding putting one's light on a lampstand you will see one of the ways I have come to deal with the apparent conflict between the importance of eremitical hiddenness and also the imperative to share with others. You see, I came to see more clearly the basic truth that it is not so much that we see light itself but rather that we see by virtue of the light. In thinking about eremitical hiddenness I came to see there is a difference between putting one's light on a lampstand so that others might see it and putting the light there so that others may see by virtue of it. The second "translation" allowed me to see that a hermit's hiddenness might prevent folks from looking directly at "the light" (to whatever degree this particular life really is a source of light) but that the light of the hermit's life could still (and in fact MUST still) illuminate the world around her and be a source of light to those within in. In many ways eremitical life is the most radical expression of the truth that we must grow less so that God's glory lives more fully in and shines more fully through us or that it must be Christ in us that is the most critical reality we witness to.

What I must trust is that, in ways I am mainly unaware of, the light of Christ DOES shine through me --- especially through the fact that life in eremitical solitude is something which completes and makes me genuinely happy --- and that it is the real purpose or calling of my life, in the main it is the way I truly DO love others. When I write about the redemptive reality which MUST exist in the life of any hermit and the fact that this must come to the hermit in the silence of solitude I am writing about the same thing Merton wrote about when he said that "the first duty of the hermit is to be happy without affectation in (her) solitude".  The whole quote says, [[The . . .hermit has as his first duty, to live happily without affectation in his solitude. He owes this not only to himself but to his community [by extension diocesan hermits would say parish, diocese, or Church] that has gone so far as to give him a chance to live it out. . . . this is the chief obligation of the . . .hermit because, as I said above, it can restore to others their faith in certain latent possibilities of nature and of grace.]] (Emphasis added,  Contemplation in a World of Action, p. 242)

In a world where there is such an emphasis on active ministry (and rightly so) and such a need for concrete acts of love it is simply hard to see that it is the very hiddenness of the hermit that is actually a very significant act of love which witnesses to the grace of God that has redeemed the hermit's life. So often activism is not a reflection of a contemplative or prayerful core; so often it is an expression of insecurity, the need to achieve for one's own sake more than for the sake of the other. So often active ministry is undertaken in an approach that is more symptomatic than systemic --- it deals with symptoms more than the underlying disease (though the best priests, religious, and laity I know manage an active ministry aimed at the core problem as well and even primarily.) The hermit serves to remind us all that before we reach out to others we must be able to point to God's love and redemption with the wholeness and capacity to remain in solitude, secure even in our hiddenness.

Inner Work and the Witness of the Hermit:

Recently I wrote about inner work I was undertaking with my director. At one point we had a discussion of why this work was personally imperative for me and how it was that it was consonant with my vocation --- especially because the work meant a frequent and regular contact with my director and some significant temporary changes in my Rule. I explained that my own sense was that since the Church had consecrated and commissioned me to live this vocation in her name she had also commissioned me to undertake anything essential to living an abundant life in union with God more and more fully. That meant, I explained, that not only had the Church given me permission to do this work but that insofar as it was essential to my own healing and growth it was something that was an essential part of this vocation the Church had publicly called me to.

Also, despite the intense interaction with my director --- an interaction in which the Grace of God was consistently mediated --- it was done mainly in solitude and would enhance my solitude --- especially since solitude differs so radically from isolation and the brokenness associated with isolation. All of this was done so that I could truly be a hermit living out the primary obligation of the eremitical life as Merton had defined it and as I had come to know it to be. All of it witnessed to what the hermit knows most acutely in solitude, namely that there are incredible, awesome latent possibilities or potentialities marking the place within us where nature and grace meet --- where, in fact, God bears and is allowed to bear witness within us. It can be essential for the health of every minister to be reminded of these deep potentialities and the terrible hunger every person may know to have them realized in relation to God. Thus, hermits serve the Church --- sometimes by remaining completely hidden and sometimes by maintaining an essential hiddenness despite a very limited active ministry --- as I do in my parish and with this blog.

On Blogging:

Thus, the answer to your second question is that blogging is not something I have chosen to do in spite of a call to eremitical hiddenness but rather, something I have chosen to do because of it. I am convinced there needs to be a way of sharing the incredibly positive reasons hermits choose the silence of solitude, why their hiddenness is an antidote to the epidemic need for notoriety so prevalent today, and why solitude is not necessarily a selfish choice but can be one which is made for the sake of others. My own choice to blog also has to do with the need for reflection on hermits' lived experience of canon 603 and the way it is implemented and needs to be implemented for the good of the Church and solitary hermits. Eremitical life per se is so little understood in chanceries throughout the world and so often understood in terms of "being a lone person" or isolation rather than eremitical solitude by so many others. We have to allow the love which drives this vocation to illumine the world --- both in its hiddenness and in the limited access we give others to that hiddenness.

What I have come to understand over the  past decade especially is that the vocation is not selfish and that, paradoxically, hiddenness in the eremitical life is a dimension of one's love for God, for oneself, and for others because it reveals the God who loves us simply for ourselves; similarly it reminds us that allowing this to really be the foundation of our lives is the one thing necessary and the deepest potential of our humanity.

On taking up our Cross: Accepting the Call to Kenosis and Authentic Humanity

The articles I put up recently on emptiness and the hiddenness of the eremitical vocation are profoundly linked, as I noted, to the theologies of the cross of Paul and Mark. Readers might remember that Mark's Gospel is often called a "passion narrative with a long introduction". But really, it is a passion narrative, a long story of self-emptying that climaxes on the cross. I was thinking about this recently because of one of our Friday gospel lections that had Jesus inviting and calling us to take up our crosses to follow him. Always before I have spoken of crosses as those difficult, challenging, and painful times we associate with suffering. We take up our crosses when we suffer well with the inspiration and empowerment of God in Christ. But I also understand more clearly that when we speak of Jesus taking up his cross it means his relinquishment of all of the ordinary ways to honor and success, power and prestige, relationships, family, even his own People, so that he may be completely transparent to the One he called Abba.

In Mark's Gospel the shadow of the cross marks the whole of Jesus' life. It stands as the summary and culmination, the most radical example of everything Jesus has been, done, said, and experienced until now. It is the symbol of the entire dynamic of self emptying which drove Jesus on as he ministered in compassion, prayed in the silence of solitude, felt the anguish of being rejected in so many ways or celebrated with his friends and disciples. Jesus is the one person in human history who did not only say yes to God, but who emptied himself (allowed himself to be emptied) so completely that in him God might be exhaustively revealed in the senses of both being made known and being made real with a human face in our world. Jesus allowed the will and purposes of God to so overshadow him, he opened himself so completely to God's love and power that he perfectly fulfilled the human vocation to image God. Our doctrine of two natures is one of the ways the Church has tried to speak adequately of this NT paradox that where Jesus was fully and exhaustively human there was God definitively revealed, and where God is definitively and exhaustively revealed there we see authentic humanity.

This is the dynamic Paul is speaking of when he talks of Jesus being obedient (open and responsive) to God even to the point of death, death on a cross. Jesus' entire life is one of taking up the call, task, and challenge to be fully human, and therefore to be imago dei --- not in the weak sense of mirroring God, but in the strong sense of allowing God's power and presence, his love and mercy, to flame up in Jesus without obstacle, obscurity, or distortion so that Jesus is incandescent with God, and so, when we see Jesus' humanity we see Divinity face to face. This is the heart of the Eastern notion of  "divinization and it is something we are each called to allow God to achieve in us in our own way. Humanity and divinity are not in conflict here. They are counterparts in genuine covenant existence.  This is why my most important (and beloved) theology professor (John C Dwyer) was fond of saying, "Human freedom is the counterpart of Divine sovereignty." What must lessen, what we must be emptied and stripped of is our false (or better, falsified) selves so that God may be entirely sovereign. And where God is sovereign we are most truly ourselves.

The emptying of self happens throughout Jesus' life and reaches its furthest points, its most radical form, in his crucifixion. Because Jesus embraces the godlessness of sin and death while trusting his Abba completely this kenosis is similar to that of the rest of his life. For this reason, although it is especially true that we can speak of taking up our crosses to refer to those times of significant suffering we might have in our lives, taking up our cross also means taking up the task, challenge, indeed the very vocation we have to be authentically human. We take up our cross every time we consent to being emptied and to allow God to be God, every time we allow the mercy of God to transform us or the love of God to empty and strip us of all falseness --- as well as to fill and make us whole and true with Divine meaning and purpose. To take up our cross daily is to take up the continuing call to become the persons God wills us to be whether this process is marked by the suffering of various forms of emptying and being made true, or the joy of completion and personal fulfillment we know in union with God. Taking up our cross is simply the task of embracing a life entirely committed to trusting and mediating the love of God as imago dei.

More on the Hiddenness of the Hermit Vocation

[[Hi Sister Laurel, thank you for telling your story from the perspective of using gifts vs being the gift. Two things surprised me a little. The first was the idea that the hiddenness of the eremitical life has to do mainly with the work God is doing within the hermit. This really is the vocation of the hermit and where else can it happen but in hiddenness? The second was that in letting go of a concern to use the gifts God has given us and instead focusing on the gift God makes of us we are involved in what the Gospel calls "dying to self"! I had never thought about it that way but this is the sense it made to me. The motto, "Let go and let God" fits here doesn't it?]]

The Hiddenness of the Hermit Vocation:

Thanks for writing. You got it exactly right with regard to the hiddenness of the eremitical life!  I especially liked your rhetorical question, ". . . where else can it happen but in hiddenness?" Most of the time when hermits speak about the hiddenness of their lives they speak about people not knowing they are hermits or doing things anonymously. Others speak of not wearing habits, not using titles or post-nomial initials and the like lest the hiddenness of the vocation be betrayed. I have written several times now about the tension between the hiddenness of the vocation and its public character --- its call to witness to the work of the Holy Spirit in the life of the Church in this way of life. All of these have some greater or lesser degree of validity but I think that when we recognize that eremitical life is about letting God do God's own silent and solitary work in the hiddenness of the human heart as we move more and more toward dwelling within his own heart in Christ, we have put our finger on the heart of the matter of eremitical hiddenness.

It seems to me that in every person's life God works silently in incredible hiddenness. The hermit commits her entire life to allowing this and witnessing to it. The very fact that she retires to a hermitage witnesses to her commitment to and faith in this hidden work of God. The fact that she embraces a life of the silence of solitude is a commitment that witnesses to it. Those of us who wear habits, use titles and post-nomial initials that prompt people to ask about our lives are a commitment and (paradoxically) witness to this incredible hiddenness. It is always striking to me that when people learn I am a hermit they tend to be completely off-footed. I noted that recently I played violin for a funeral held in our parish and that this was well-received. People understood this use of gifts and they wondered what I did here at the parish; they expected that I taught, perhaps music, or that I was a liturgist or any number of other things but they looked a bit stunned when they heard I was a hermit and rarely played violin this way. No one actually said, "Oh what a waste," of course; surprise and maybe puzzlement was what was generally expressed. I am hoping folks realized that the violin expressed and reflected what happens to my own heart in the ordinary silence and solitude of my hermitage.

In any case, the gifts we occasionally use and those we relinquish in the name of our lives as hermits witness to the essential hiddenness of those lives and of the God powerfully at work there. We know that God works this way in every person's life but it seems to  me that relatively few people actually commit to revealing this by embracing an essential hiddenness. Cloistered nuns and monks do so, hermits do so; it is a witness our world needs --- and one that throws folks off-balance when they meet it face to face. The Kingdom of God comes in this way. It grows silently in the darkness and night when we can do nothing but trust in the One who is its source. It bursts forth when we have reached the limits of our own patience, when we have finally relinquished any pretense of control or even understanding. It comes in victory at the same time we admit defeat and steals upon us -- gently silencing the prayer that storms heaven so that heaven can simply sing within us.

 Prayer is certainly the hermit's main ministry but only if it is genuinely the work she allows God to do in, with, and through her, the work which allows her to set her own concerns, frailties, strengths, and even her talents and gifts aside so to speak so that the hidden work and presence of God may flourish within her. I have written before that it is the hermit's very vocation to become God's own prayer in our world; in fact, that is really the fundamental vocation of every person because it is the thing which characterizes authentic humanity. Hermits, it seems to me, undertake this with a special dedication in a way which is largely stripped of the activities and ministries which, while usually revelatory, may actually distract attention from that foundational presence at work in the solitary silence of every human heart. See also, Essential Hiddenness: A Call to extraordinary ordinariness for a post on the universality of this call.

God-given gifts and Dying to Self:

Ordinarily we speak of dying to self in terms of using our gifts generously and selflessly. This is an entirely valid and critical piece of what dying to self really means. However, I think the idea of letting go of significant gifts God has given us so that who we are ourselves, that is, so that we are who God makes us to be most fundamentally, is the real witness of our lives; it is a special and even more radical kind of dying to self peculiar to the eremitical life --- though we find suggestions of it in old age, chronic illness, etc. This really is a new insight for me --- one, that is, I have only just begun thinking consciously about in connection with the idea that the hermit's life is an essentially hidden one. It is a paradox because at the same time we let go of those gifts we become freer to use them without pressure or self-consciousness should appropriate opportunities arise. Even so, we are not our gifts, not most fundamentally, nor is our life ultimately about a struggle to protect or even to use those gifts.  And when we are deprived of those gifts or of the ability to use them by illness or other life circumstances the deepest or foundational meaning and mystery of our lives can become clear. This too is a form of dying to self --- perhaps the most radical form short of the physical death of red martyrdom.

I think hermits have known this right along.  It is what allows them to use the term "white martyrdom" for their lives. I have written here that I once thought of contemplatives and hermits as selfish rather than selfless. Back then I was thinking of the multitude of wasted gifts and of some sort of failure to honor them but I was not thinking of a life which explicitly honored the giver of all gifts in a more transparent way or was a naked expression of (dependence on) that giver and the redemption he occasions in us. At the same time I was very young; I had not really faced a situation where my own God-given gifts were either unusable or where, in my brokenness, emptiness, and incapacity, I knew more fully and clearly my own need for radical redemption --- much less had I come to actually know that redemption.

Only as I came face to face with these and the immense question "WHY?!" that drove me did I begin to sense that eremitical life could "make sense of the whole of my life." My sense of this, however, was still inchoate; it was as unformed as my own eremitical identity for I was not, in any sense of the term, a hermit. In time, and especially in the silence of solitude, God did with my life what the Gospel promises and proclaims. He loved me into wholeness and continues to do so. That hidden, unceasing, and unconquerable redemptive Love-in-act is what my vocation witnesses to. Hermits have seen right along that their witness is more fundamental and radical than even the use of God-given gifts for the sake of others can make clear.

One of the reasons the hermit life will always be rare is because we need people who use their God-given gifts in the multitude of ways which enrich our lives every day. In no way am I suggesting that such gifts are unimportant or, generally speaking, should not be used in assisting in the coming of the Kingdom of God. This is the usual way we cooperate with God and reveal God's life to others.

But at the same time there will always be a few of us who have come to a place where chronic illness (or whatever else!) made this impossible; and yet, through a Divine mercy and wisdom we can hardly believe, much less describe, we have been redeemed and become gifts more precious than any or all of the individual talents we once carefully developed and shepherded. Through a more radical and counter-cultural kenosis (self-emptying), in the hiddenness of a life more fundamentally about being made gift than about using our talents, hermits are called to witness to the inexhaustible, transcendent, and redemptive reality dwelling in the very core of our being -- the infinitely loving source and ground of our lives. Those redeemed and transfigured lives say, "God alone is enough!" With St Paul (who himself was stripped and emptied by life's circumstances and who spent time in the desert learning to see the new kind of sense his life held in light of the crucified Christ), we proclaim in the starkest way we can, "I, yet not I but Christ within me!"

Followup to Questions about the Value vs the Utility of Eremitical Vocations

Dear Sister your last post on the diocesan eremitical vocation was very positive compared to what I wrote you about [two weeks ago]. (cf, On Maintaining the Distinction between Utility and Value) I am guessing you would disagree with this [included] take on your vocation as well. Could you comment? I believe the immediate context is that this person has petitioned her diocese for canonical status and had not received a response yet (this was written several years ago and she wrote them [her diocese] a couple of months prior to this post). S/he says the vocation need not be credible and is for "good-for-nothings".

[[The hermit vocation is a veritable non-entity in the views of most, of nearly all, even in the Church. Yes, it is written in the Catechism, there is a Canon Law that is applicable, there are saints who have hermit status, and there are a minutia of canonically approved, known hermits in the world. But the remaining souls who are called to the life are veritable non-entities in the non-entity status of their vocation. It is such a non-entity that a response to a request is long in coming, if it ever arrives in the post. An appointment to discuss the vocation, is not of much consequence or importance to the degree that it keeps being put off until "sometime". Yes, we can talk about it "sometime". Now, this may to some in the vocation seem like an insult or a negativity. It is not! It only verifies all the more the vocation for what it is: non-entity status. A hermit's life is so hidden, so undefinable, so inconsequential, so non-this and non-that as to be nothing and worthy of only good-for-nothings.]]

Certainly it is true that this vocation is little known and little understood in today's Church. That is one of the reasons some diocesan hermits have blogs. It is also true that the vocation is counter-cultural and stands in opposition to many of the ways our world measures productivity and status. Hermits, at least among those who do not know them personally, may be thought to be folks who have failed at life, dislike people, are pathologically introspective and many other similar stereotypes. However, the post you are citing from is written by someone waiting for word from her diocese on whether they will work with her to discern a vocation to diocesan eremitical life. The idea that the vocation is undefinable and inconsequential is certainly a misrepresentation which someone petitioning her diocese for admission to canonical standing should not make. Further, she seems upset that she has not gotten a fairly immediate response to her request to do so (she has gotten a response but it seems not to be permission to make vows). In any case, I don't think she is speaking about the counter cultural nature of the vocation itself; rather I think she is feeling dismissed by the diocese and may be being ironic (and perhaps hyperbolic) in this response. (In other words she may be guilty of dealing with disappointment by throwing the baby out with the bathwater, so to speak.)

 I say that because it is sometimes hard to wait for a diocese's response to one's initial request to be considered in this way. However, presumably this difficulty stems from the fact that one really understands that the diocesan eremitical vocation is a significant one and genuinely believes one is called to it by God. It is awfully hard to believe someone who felt the vocation is worthy only of "good-for-nothings" would desire canonical standing or seek to live such an ecclesial vocation. For that matter it is hard to understand why the Church would esteem or VALUE such a vocation enough to recognize and govern it canonically or in this way link it to public rights and obligations as a witness to the work of the Holy Spirit. In fact, the difficulty in getting oneself professed is ordinarily a sign of the value and esteem with which the Church regards this vocation. Only in a handful of situations has it been tied to members of the hierarchy's denigration of the vocation. It does seem to me that this person is speaking of being treated by her diocese like a "good-for-nothing" because they are not responding to her query quickly enough to suit her or because she is "only" a lay hermit. It's a bit hard to tell from this passage if she believes canonical vocations are esteemed while lay eremitical vocations are not. For that reason I checked the post and found the following passage which clarifies a bit more what she is actually saying. She continues:

[[It is the life and work of a slave to a servant. There is no need to rise up in ire, to take offense, to counter that there is worth and value and to try to make the world, even the Catholic world see and understand and validate the vocation. There is no reason to "fight" for status, canonical or non-canonical, either one. There is no need for a support team to encourage sticking with trying to be made "credible" in the eyes of anyone on earth. What is the point? This is not part of the vocation, for the vocation itself is hidden in God through dying into nothingness. The status is thus as a non-entity which is no status at all. And this is a positive.]]

I may have answered a similar question several years ago and what I wrote just a few days ago on the distinction between utility and value and the importance of maintaining that certainly reiterated my disagreement with the exaggerated conclusions arrived at in the cited post. First, canonical standing is not about status in the common sense of prestige or social privilege. As I have written many times here, it is about standing in law as well as in the consecrated state of life, both of which are linked to public rights and obligations the Church entrusts to the person; the person assumes these in the act of professing vows and accepting consecration in the hands of her Bishop. Since it is both a new and an ancient vocation which had effectively died out in the Western Church, it is appropriate that diocesan hermits make this vocation known --- not least so it can be understood and witness in ways which are important to the Church and world. In other words, it is an important way of living and the Church recognizes that by linking it to profession and consecration. Lay eremitical vocations are also of great value; their counter-cultural nature coupled with the fact that they witness generally to the call of all the Baptized to assiduous prayer and genuine holiness is striking.

Secondly, while I agree that perseverance and patience are both necessary, one must recognize that canonical standing IS part of the vocation of the solitary consecrated hermit and is not extraneous to it. When one enters the consecrated state of life that state of life is constituted by the rights and obligations one embraces and is entrusted with. Thus, as I have noted before, while one can never change the fact that one has been consecrated, while consecration per se can never be dispensed, one can leave the consecrated state of life. Unless one decides one is not truly called to this one petitions for admission to vows and participates in a mutual discernment process because one feels called by God to embrace an ecclesial vocation. It is true that if a diocese has never professed a diocesan hermit before, or if they have not had suitable candidates they will seek to be very sure the person petitioning has clear signs of maturity and sufficient experience of eremitical solitude to be professed. The process can be a long one and, again, requires perseverance but generally people (candidate and diocesan curia) work together in a way which is relatively transparent even as it tests the candidate and her patience, her sense of eremitical call whether or not canonical standing is in her future, her ability to deal with uncertainty in solitude, etc.

It is also true, however, that diocesan personnel can certainly receive a petition from someone they almost immediately and clearly feel is not suited to this life and does not have such a vocation. In such cases the diocese may seek to find a pastoral and sensitive way to share their conclusion; this too can take time and give the impression that they are not being completely transparent or are dragging their feet. Sometimes a diocese will say, "Continue living as you are living now" in order that the fruits of that way of living can become more evident in time. In such cases they are usually open to reconsidering a petition in several years. Sometimes they will say pretty immediately, "We believe you should be more involved in your parish," or, "this does not seem to us to be the best way of using your God-given gifts," or even, "eremitical solitude seems to be unhealthy for you!" I suppose one way of rationalizing such rejections is to tell oneself the diocese does not understand or value the eremitical vocation but generally my experience is that dioceses DO value this vocation and seek to profess those with clear vocations who are both healthy, genuinely happy, and show signs that eremitical solitude is the context in which they have most clearly matured spiritually and personally.

Thirdly, while the vocation is one of essential "hiddenness from the eyes of men"  neither Canon 603 nor the CCC speak of dying into nothingness. Of course there is a significant dimension of dying to self (meaning the false or ego self!) but one does NOT become a non-entity in the process; one embraces anew the incredibly significant status of daughter or son of God in Christ (and brother or sister to all others) just as one did in Baptism and therefore comes to represent a vocation which has significant value for men and women living in the 21 C! Not least hermits proclaim the Gospel of Jesus Christ and the life and meaning which he brings to even the least and most lonely of us. It is a rich life, a joy filled one of profound (and incredibly paradoxical) relatedness to all of creation which would be meaningful simply because God calls one to it! Even so, it is significant to others and MUST be credible to others (no matter how paradoxical or counter cultural such credibility is)  because it is a proclamation of the Gospel and the redemption connected with that. The God it witnesses to must be the God of Jesus Christ who redeems the most death-dealing or isolating circumstances human beings know.

I have known (usually -- though not only -- through their writing) several so-called hermits that were either no such thing or, at best, were pretty disedifying examples of the vocation. While all of us struggle at times to live our lives well and with integrity, and while none of us are likely paragons (Merton warns about believing hermits should be perfect examples of their vocation), there are those who justify isolation or an inability (or refusal!) to take part in normal society because of mental illness, spiritual and personal eccentricity (or outright weirdness!), misanthropy, judgmentalism, individualism, self-centeredness, etc, by applying the term "hermit." But in some of these cases the impression they give in adopting the term is that solitude is really nothing more than isolation, that the only real joy found in the eremitical life is that of suffering and struggle, that the spirituality appropriate to such a vocation is some sort of pseudo-mystical misery willed by a sadistic God who may reward such pain with occasional "consolations", and that attempts to find or worship God in the ordinary world of time and space is "unspiritual". As far as I can see there is nothing of the good news of Jesus Christ in any of this and nothing credible much less exemplary therefore in such lives.

I am sorry when persons are not admitted to profession as a diocesan hermit or even to an extended period of discern-ment with their diocese; I know the pain it occasions. But at the same time I am sorrier still when those with no true vocation call themselves hermits (much less Catholic Hermits) and give scandal by living a life which is far from healthy and thus, even farther from being Christian or genuinely eremitical. Because diocesan eremitical life is an ecclesial vocation this means it must witness to the Gospel of God in Christ in the name of the Church. Standing in law, credibility, even "approval" by the hierarchy of the Church and those who benefit from the witness given are a necessary part of this vocation and its accountability to God and God's Church --- essential hiddenness notwithstanding. After all, credibility is part of ANY Christian vocation; we live our lives in response to this call so that others "may believe in Him whom you have sent." (John 6:30) If our lives and vocations lack credibility in the profound sense of imaging God's redemption, especially in the midst of suffering, then they are not Christian; they are not of God.  It seems to me, that the pious language of "being nothing" aside, only one who fails to understand the true nature, value, and responsibility of such calls could suggest otherwise.

On Books and Hermits Writing in (or out of) their Hiddenness

[[Hi Sister Laurel, I guess it is kind of funny to be asking about books by hermits since they are supposed to be hermits separated from the world, but I am interested in reading about hermits' lives and things by hermits. Do you have any suggestions for good books? ]]

Hi. This is a great question and it is the first time anyone has ever asked it, so thanks a lot! There is a lot of good writing about the hermit life available (well, lots more than there was just a few years ago anyway!). Let me start with the newest stuff out there --- or at least fairly new stuff. Regarding books by hermits, I think the best book available on the nature of eremitical life is The Eremitic Life by Cornelius Wencel. Fr Wencel is a Camaldolese, but from a different congregation than I am associated with. He is a Monte Corona Camaldolese whose "founder" (besides Romuald) is Paul Giustiniani, a Camaldolese reformer; also unlike the OSB Cam, this congregation (Er Cam) has hermits only --- there is no cenobitical expression. This is not a "how to" book, nor a description of day to day living, but an extended reflection on the heart of the life and vocation.

Another book I would highly recommend and which written by a hermit in Wales is, A Simplified Life by Sister Verena Schiller. Sister writes beautifully, and gently introduces the reader to the daily life of a hermit by her own reflections on the landscape and history of her place. As she explores the place, she comes to live the eremitical life more and more deeply. It is a remarkable illustration of solitary stability as growth in depth (and deep truth). Sister Schiller is a member of the Episcopal (Anglican) Sisters of the Holy Name. Her work is studded with poetry and is laced with really good scriptural theology. For instance, she quotes Mary Lou Kowanacki, OSB (who is quoting Ryokan) on one essential and tension-filled dynamic of the eremitic life from Between Two Souls:

Some would say it is running away, others a running towards
This is the Way he travelled to flee the world;
This is the Way he travelled to return to the world.
I, too, come and go along this Sacred Path
That bridges life and death
And traverses illusion. (p.146)

Two other good books on the solitary life are, The Power of Solitude by Annemarie Kidder. Kidder deals with all the basic questions raised by solitude in a world dominated by "noise and numbers." (This includes friendship and mystical experiences and many other realities of a life focused "on God Alone".) It is a book I would recommend to hermits or to any serious Christian --- actually anyone trying to build in and negotiate the tensions involved in embracing solitude. The second book is Silent Dwellers, Embracing the Solitary Life, by Barbara Errako Taylor. While I disagreed with some aspects of this book (especially Erakko's understanding of the reason for and dynamic behind celibacy --- consecrated or otherwise) --- I thought she did a terrific job with things like the quest for simplicity, for instance.

Lastly for now, and certainly not least, I would recommend Sister Jeremy Hall's, Silence, Solitude, Simplicity, A Hermit's Love Affair With a Noisy, Crowded, and Complicated World. One of the most significant parts of this book is Sister Jeremy's description of the desert in desert spirituality as "A Place of Meeting." Another is her identification of Silence as "A reverence for speech". As with all authentic hermits, Sister Jeremy is deeply attuned to the reality of paradox and often pairs such things as "simplicity and inner riches", "silence and the word", "solitude and community", etc because these point to the various dynamics and tensions a hermit has to negotiate and embody in her life. One thing that comes through clearly in Sister Jeremy's work is the paradoxical fruitfulness of desert existence. At the same time, the subtitle of this book encapsulates the same paradox found in Wencel's book, namely, that hermits live a separation from the world not because they hate or reject God's creation, but in order to love it better and more honestly. 

By the way, ordinarily I would suggest several books by Thomas Merton regarding eremitical life, but I think those could wait until later. For now let me note merely the essay "Notes for a Philosophy of Solitude" in Disputed Questions. It is the heart of Merton's theology of eremitical life. Beyond this Merton often speaks directly to the first sentence of your own question --- the idea that it is strange to look to hermits to write about the essentially hidden life of a hermit. This raises the question of the interesting paradox that Merton lived and dealt with daily, that I myself deal with somewhat similarly because of this blog, for instance, and which Sister Verena also refers to in her book (A Simplified Life): [[ The very term hermit or solitary implies a reclusiveness, a living apart, a certain hiddenness, a life not to be exposed to the public gaze or written about. Yet it is through the writings of hermits and the faithful records of those who have visited them, dating back as far as the fourth and fifth centuries when the first Christan hermits began their lives in the Egyptian and Syrian deserts, that we owe much of their lives and spiritual insights.]] In its own way Cornelius Wencel's book deals with this same tension and dynamic, as does Sister Kowanacki in the passage cited above, etc.

I hope this helps as a start