Using Internet Wisely: Some Distinctions Between Hiddenness and Privacy

[[Sister Laurel, I have been watching videos by [an online Christian hermit] and reading your blog for some time. You have such different approaches to eremitical life. I have been interested in the distinctions. One of these is about the hiddenness of the hermit life. Recently, [this hermit] put up several posts while running errands in B____, and today she put up one showing herself in a medical waiting room dressed in scrubs as she waited for an MRI. What has me feeling confused and often uncomfortable is how she complains that [despite your supposed hiddenness], you use the title Sister and wear a habit, while she puts up videos of herself shopping, going to the doctor, lying in bed in pain, and so forth, while identifying herself as a hermit to those watching such videos. The videos are becoming more frequent, and it seems like everything, even family fights and details of her physical and emotional condition, is fair game. It's as though everything she does has to be video'd for her viewers while boundaries are forgotten. Yet she goes after you for using her name and not being anonymous yourself. How can any of this be considered consistent with eremitical hiddenness?]]

Thanks for your questions. Let me talk about eremitical hiddenness and also the value of privacy. I have no intention of speaking about this specific hermit's praxis because she no longer presents herself as a Catholic Hermit, something I very much appreciate.  Your comments still raise the more general question of eremitical hiddenness and possible inconsistency, and would do so no matter the hermit involved if they have an online presence. My own blog does that, for instance. What you say about the increasing frequency of videos, along with their content, could also raise the question of an incipient or more developed failure to respect appropriate boundaries. What is true, of course, is that every hermit must answer such questions when they decide to post anything online, and they must continue to raise these questions over time. It seems to me that this is particularly true if they are also publicly critical of another hermit's supposed "lack of hiddenness". Bearing that in mind, let me move on to these more general topics.

Anyone posting online will find that the internet encourages a dissolution of our sense of privacy and of appropriate boundaries. This can be gradual or not. The hermits I know mostly have internet, and we use it to communicate in a variety of ways, to come together in a virtual laura over huge geographical and temporal distances, to post about this vocation, to sell what we make, make doctor's appointments, and things like that. My sense is we each take care with our use of such media. Additionally, some of us have been called upon to do interviews for journalists, authors, radio broadcasters (or podcasters), and the like, but in doing these, there always remains a significant caution that honesty and transparency do not transgress appropriate boundaries. 

Journalists give us the draft of what they want to publish, and we go over these to be sure we are comfortable with everything in the interview, article, book chapter, or whatever. There is no sense ever that this media piece is going to transgress upon our essential hiddenness or the personal boundaries most people have no right or need to see beyond. We don't do the interview, or give permission for its publication, etc., if we cannot be certain of these limits. (Granted, this doesn't prevent all errors, but it does tend to work for boundary issues.) But on the internet, people post or write and put up pictures and videos of themselves that reveal far more of themselves than they realize. It takes real care to use media appropriately while ensuring the hiddenness or privacy necessary to the hiddenness of an eremitic life.

Some things never show up in the interviews or articles I do. While I do indeed mention the chronic illness and disability that are part of my own call to eremitical life, the details of those realities,  especially on a day-to-day basis, are private. Not only are they generally unhelpful to folks reading this blog, but they cross boundaries, both my own and those of my readers, which are better maintained intact. In some ways, "putting it all out there" is uncharitable and can lack respect, both for myself and for the reader. Similarly, some will know I have a sister, a niece, and may even know their first names, but that is ordinarily the limit of things. I once asked for prayer for my sister due to some surgery she was having. I have posted on the occasion of the anniversary of my brother's death. But the ins and outs, ups and downs of relationships (which are pretty much the same as anyone else's) is simply not helpful to anyone reading this blog, and not my right to post about. But let me be especially clear, this kind of thing is not about the hiddenness of my life. It is about the right that my family and I both have to privacy despite the public nature of my vocation.

Hiddenness has to do with the intimacies of my (or any hermit's) life with God, the existential solitude that my life possesses and seeks as an essential dimension of an authentically human life. And, paradoxically, I am called to witness to this hiddenness. Imagine that! In my life, every day of my life, I live a communion or union with God that no one else can enter, see, touch, or know. They can know all of this themselves in regard to their own relationship with God, yes, but they cannot enter, see, touch, or know my own solitude with God. And yet, at the same time, I am called to witness to this inviolable, ineffable, and sacred reality with my life. Sometimes, because I write about the nature of c 603 eremitic life, I am also called to write what I can about this relationship, and yet, a good deal of it (when I can find the words for it) will remain entirely private except to spiritual directors, my bishop and/or confessor, and those very rare (and very good) friends with whom I share this vocation.

Here is where titles and habits can be helpful. They are an outer sign of this inner reality. They immediately signal something existing that otherwise people will not have a way into. Of course, my own qualities and characteristics as a person also reveal the presence and nature of my relationship with God (and are more important in doing so than any habit!), but the all-consuming focus of my life and the total nature of my commitment can be indicated by title and habit. These are signals to an intimacy with God every person is invited to experience and explore for themselves, and which I have said yes to in public vows and consecration. They are also things I have adopted with the permission of the Church as part of an ecclesial vocation. I don't usually know why others wear habits, or, often the more neuralgic question, why many do not, though I understand and respect the decisions made by those I do know. In terms of my own religious life, however, the habit serves as a signal to something hidden and holy --- a journey which differs in some ways from that of most people and is undertaken on their behalf. At the same time, though it is helpful to me, it is less about me than it is about signaling the potential within each one of us, especially within a faith community, to make the kind of journey I have been writing about lately, and that I have mentioned indirectly through the years in terms of "inner work". Today, because they are less common, habits invite questions, and questions invite witness and encouragement of others regarding the journey they, too, are called to make in their own way.

In terms of your questions, what I find fascinating is how apparently easy it is for someone to mistake anonymity for hiddenness or even for privacy. What adds to that fascination is my awareness of how, on the other hand, it is possible to write publicly and talk about the inner journey hermits are called to make, to wear a habit, use the title Sister (or Brother), and maintain the hiddenness of the vocation and the privacy necessary for self-respect and the respect of others. There are paradoxes here that I think are important, and hermits certainly need to be aware of these. Sometimes writing or filming something in the name of sharing, openness, or transparency erodes essential boundaries and potentially involves the reader or viewer in a form of voyeurism. Here is one of the places where the internet's tendency to count visitors coming to the site can be deceptive or misleading. It doesn't always indicate one's writing, for instance, is edifying or even interesting. Hermits need to ask themselves if they are getting the readership (or viewership) they are (especially when that readership spikes upward or drops off precipitously), not because what they write is truly of interest or edifying to others, but because it is fascinating like a train wreck, car crash, or streaker in a park full of people is fascinating.

The potential for misuse of media and the subtle,  even surreptitious, and always surprising ways the use of media can lead to the gradual or even more immediate transgression or erosion of appropriate boundaries for the writer or videographer and reader or viewer alike is important. This is another place where external solitude and silence help protect existential solitude, and where respect for oneself flows over into respect for others as well. That said, let me be clear that I believe videos, vlogs, and blogs can be used appropriately, and that certainly includes those done by hermits. I have posted examples of that several times, including hermits, monks, and cloistered nuns.  Even so, the use of media must be undertaken with caution and careful discernment. 

I would like to leave readers with the observation that privacy and hiddenness, like external and existential solitude, while related, are not the same things. Hermits' hiddenness has to do with their existential solitude and their journey to God and Self. Privacy helps ensure that the journey to the depths of oneself in existential solitude can be, and is, undertaken with focus and integrity. What one reveals publicly is a matter of judgment and respect for oneself, one's vocation, and one's readers or viewers. When we conflate such terms, we tend to make sure that the vocation and the inner journey to which it witnesses are misunderstood. That does not serve God, the Church, or anyone else well, and it contributes to the stereotypes and misapprehensions that plague the word "hermit".

Followup on the Relation of Physical Solitude to Existential Solitude

[[Sister Laurel, I was really struck by your assertion that eremitical solitude involves but is not about physical solitude, that it is about the existential solitude of the journey to the center of our being, where we meet ourselves and God. I was also struck by the way that ties in with the hiddenness of the hermit vocation and how it is that whether you are with people or not, your real vocation is solitary and hidden. I don't mean any offense, but have you written about this before this last month, and if not, why not? (Maybe it would be better to ask you what made it possible for you to write in this way now!) 

Other hermits I have read or heard have stressed how someone is no hermit if they are known by others or spend time with them, or wear a habit, or use a recognizable title, and so forth. They stress the externals a lot, and for them, physical solitude is the key to determining whether someone is really a hermit or not. But you have sliced through all that in a couple of sentences in your last post. Is it your opinion that a hermit must be measured by the inner journey they undertake, rather than the degree of physical solitude they live? That's what I hear you saying. ]]

What excellent questions! Your first one about why I am writing this way now is probably not one I can answer to your satisfaction because it involves a personal experience that happened at the beginning of Lent, and I am not yet sure what I can or want to say about that. You'll need to be patient with me regarding that part of things. Still, I have tried to write about the essential hiddenness of this vocation and also to distinguish between physical solitude and a more existential solitude from fairly early on. I first used the term existential solitude around 2013, at least as part of a piece that includes that label. And earlier than that, I wrote about the quest for authentic selfhood, and the inner journey one is called to make, even if I failed to use the actual term, " existential solitude". As I looked over the articles with the label "essential hiddenness", however, the things I have been writing about this past month are present, but without the clarity of my recent posts. And that makes sense because sometimes we can only see things clearly or have the freedom to say what we need to once we have travelled beyond the struggle to a new place and perspective.

I don't want to undervalue the importance of physical solitude to the hermit vocation. The past year and a half, especially, and to a somewhat lesser degree the time since the pandemic, has been marked by very significant degrees of solitude of this type. To varying degrees, it is a prerequisite for the inner journey the hermit is called to make. Even so, physical solitude is not the reason for the vocation and must not be absolutized as some seem wont to do. As I noted in my last post, [[The eremitical vocation requires physical solitude, but it is not primarily about physical solitude, nor does it exist for the sake of physical solitude. Similarly, the hiddenness of eremitical life is not about external hiddenness, anonymity, etc., though it may benefit from these. Instead, it is about the hidden journey to the very heart of our being. This journey continues in one way or another, whether I am with others or not, and it is hidden from everyone, even those whose place in my life makes them a privileged sharer in this journey.]] Physical solitude can sharpen our existential solitude, but so can being with people. I think physical solitude, however, is the privileged servant of the existential solitary journey and is essential to authentic eremitism.

I understand what you mean when you write about reading and hearing other hermits making physical solitude the key to the eremitical vocation, though. I agree that some seem too taken with externals (this includes those who criticize these) and even seem unwilling to look at the inner journey as the heart of the vocation. I absolutely believe the eremitical vocation and the authenticity of the hermit herself can only be measured in terms of the inner journey they have undertaken. Many people have embraced the newish phenomenon called "cocooning." Many others are misanthropes and agoraphobics, while in many prisons, criminals are locked in their individual cells for 23 hours a day. All of these and many, many more live physical solitude and are NOT hermits. 

The examples could be greatly multiplied with scholars, artists, writers, the isolated elderly,  many chronically ill, and others who live and work alone. Some try to validate their relative isolation by calling themselves hermits. Some of these even embrace some degree of piety and prayer. A small percentage of these may discover a genuine call to eremitic life. Even so, what tends to be missing for the majority is the intense, serious, and sustained inner journey to the depths of one's being involving an engagement with existential solitude.

The Church professes and consecrates c 603 solitary hermits and has done so since Advent of 1983. Some argue that canonical standing is not necessary. I differ because I understand how difficult the inner journey I am speaking about actually is, and how much support it actually requires. Generally speaking, in the process of discernment and (initial) formation, those working with the candidate have a sense of the person being about this inner journey, or they do not admit them to profession or consecration. The outer signs of this vocation remind the hermit of the inner journey to union with God they are supposed to be about. These things remind the Church itself that it has such persons in its midst. At the same time, admission to profession and consecration (when these are legitimately pursued and granted to the hermit), says to the hermit in the midst of this journey that the Church recognizes she is called to this vocation, and helps empower her to stay the course! So does the supervision of the local ordinary and/or his delegate and the spiritual director.

Of itself, living entirely alone is not all that important. It might even represent a failure to live with others or to be adequately socialized (remember those misanthropes and criminals!). But living alone or perhaps with one or two others in a laura, 1) with the approval and assistance of representatives of the Church, 2) within a local faith community, 3) all for the sake of an inner journey to union with God in, 4) a divine vocation that is, 5) paradigmatic of the ultimate call of every person that exists or will ever exist, is incredibly important. The externals of this vocation (including physical solitude) point at once to its ecclesial nature and remind us of its essential hiddenness. Even so, it is the inner journey to the depths of one's being and an active seeking of union with God that is the very heart of the call and justification for everything else, especially every sacrifice the vocation requires from us. It seems to me that a life committed to this particular journey is the only thing that actually merits the name "hermit".

On the Relation Between Physical and Existential Solitude

[[Dear Sister, I think I understand the place of physical solitude in assisting someone to encounter and journey to the depths of existential solitude. You seem to take a more flexible view on the requirement for absolute physical solitude than some hermits do. If physical solitude is so helpful in this, then why would you allow a hermit to ease it? Wouldn't that be an obstacle to going to the depths you have been talking about?]]

Great question and timely because I was thinking about doing just such a post! Thank you!! The interesting thing about existential solitude is that while physical solitude is critically important in helping us get in touch with this, being with other people in some instances can be similarly helpful. You remember I used the image of being more alone in a crowd than we are when we are by ourselves? This is an instance of being with others as a situation that also puts us in touch with our existential solitude. Remember that existential solitude is defined as that solitude that is intrinsic to being a human being. We are born alone, live alone, and die alone in this existential sense. There is always going to be a gap between ourselves and any other person. No one really knows our hearts or minds completely. We are always, at least partly, unknown and unknowable to others, as they are to us. That creates a sense of existential loneliness or solitude that only God overcomes.

In conversations with other hermits, we have spoken of this sense. It turns up for us most poignantly, I think, because each of us have very few people with whom we can discuss our lives with the expectation that they will understand what we are and why we do what we do. I have said before that usually folks think of hermits in some stereotypical way, probably because it is easier than having some huge cipher or question mark hovering over the word "hermit". Others narrow down the way they understand this vocation to "prayer warrior" --- a phrase I detest, not because I don't pray or because I don't, in fact, do significant battle with the demons of this world and my own heart, but because it is reductionistic, too belligerent, and contrary to the essence of this call. People in my parish are comfortable thinking of me as a religious, even a contemplative --- though here we are beginning to move close to being more than a bridge too far for them! Hermit is definitely beyond the usual bounds of understanding.

On the other hand, we hermits have each other, and it is incredibly important that we do. Existential solitude can be very painful; to have others who are on the same journey, who know what you are feeling and how important it is, is incredibly critical to living this vocation well. What I find is that my time with those who haven't a clue about what I live or why often sharpens my sense of existential solitude, while my time with my Sisters in c 603, or my Director, my spiritual director, and a handful of others, encourage and accompany me in my journey even though it is one I must still make alone with God. I believe that for established hermits (less so for beginners), the time hermits spend with others will not detract from the journey into their inmost depths that they are called to. These times can actually sharpen, intensify, or otherwise enhance the journey, though in different ways, depending on the relationship.

Physical solitude is absolutely critical, not only for getting in touch with one's existential solitude, but for learning to become aware of the deep hunger and thirst we have for wholeness, and thus, too, for God. However, sometimes physical solitude, when combined with the anguish or even the more tolerable pain of existential solitude, needs to be eased if we are to remain fully committed to the journey to the depths of ourselves, where we meet God and our truest self at the same time. The eremitical vocation requires physical solitude, but it is not primarily about physical solitude, nor does it exist for the sake of physical solitude. Similarly, the hiddenness of eremitical life is not about external hiddenness, anonymity, etc., though it may benefit from these. Instead, it is about the hidden journey to the very heart of our being. This journey continues in one way or another, whether I am with others or not, and it is hidden from everyone, even those whose place in my life makes them a privileged sharer in this journey. Granted, I try to share what the journey involves, to whatever extent is appropriate, but it remains essentially hidden, just as it remains essentially solitary.

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 which 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.]

Why I do Christology "From Below"

[[Dear Sister, I have read some of this blog and I wonder when you write about the hiddenness of eremitical life if you don't disparage Jesus by referring so strongly to his humanity. Jesus was God, a Divine person, so to speak of his "ordinariness" or even his faith in God demeans him. How would you respond to that objection?]]

Great question. Thanks. I suppose my response goes back to one of the first theology classes I ever had. This was an undergraduate Introduction to New Testament and made an impression I have never left behind. The professor asked us who Jesus was or is and he let us answer in all of the ways we thought not just described, and identified Jesus,  but also how we most honored him. I said something about Jesus being the Son of God and John (Dwyer) smiled, nodded, and said, "Okay, bearing that in mind, tell me who God is!"( After all, if the best, truest, or even the highest thing we can say about Jesus is that he is the Son of God, we really should be able to say who God is apart from Jesus.)  But of course, Jesus is the One who reveals God exhaustively to us; he shows us who God is in ways that transcend any of the partial revelations we have in the Hebrew Scriptures or in other religions. Moreover, he makes the Creating, Saving God present in space and time in ways not achieved except fragmentarily in the Law, Prophets, Judges, and others. (Remember to reveal in this usage means not only making visible and making known, but also to make real in space and time.)

So, the question, I think, is really how does Jesus do that, and then, what does this mean about his humanity? First, I believe Jesus reveals both who God is and what it means to be truly human. He does both in exhaustive and definitive ways and paradoxically, he does both at the very same time. I believe that this is a major part what the Christological Councils of Nicaea and Chalcedon, for instance, were trying to say in the categories of that day and age. Secondly, I recognize that Christology can be done either "from above" or from below"; one (as in the Gospel of John) starts with Jesus' divinity, the other (as in the Gospel of Mark or the Letters of Paul) with Jesus' humanity. Each approach has its own strengths and weaknesses, and each must address these if people are truly to understand who Jesus and the One he called Abba are for us. One of the weaknesses, I believe, in all Christology from above is that in starting with Jesus as God, it fails to truly "get to" much less adequately esteem Jesus' humanity; nor does it really see Jesus' humanity as a true model for our own.  I believe it also may prevent us from treating our earth with the reverence and responsible stewardship we are called to, but I will wait to make that argument.

Doing Christology (and all theology in light of this) "from below" not only shows us the depth of God's kenotic (self-emptying) love, it also reveals how truly we who are called to authentic human life fall short of or "miss the mark" of that very goal. When we do theology beginning with Jesus' humanity it is very much easier to see that to be truly human means to live in an indescribably intimate relationship with God (we cannot be truly human alone!!) and it means to become entirely transparent to the Love-in-Act of the God who wills to be Emmanuel, God-With-Us. What I have said about eremitical hiddenness and extraordinary ordinariness (cf Hiddenness and Extraordinary Ordinariness, and Essential Hiddenness) is meant to indicate that whenever our reality is allowed to become all that it is created to be, meaning whenever God is allowed to be God-With-Us in and through us, nothing at all is "ordinary", or, maybe better, the extraordinary everyday reality we so easily denigrate, demean, and diminish, is really and truly extraordinary, even sacramental. We, like Jesus, are called to make God really and truly present in this world. Jesus reveals this is the very nature of what it means to be human just as he reveals God as Emmanuel!

I realize this is not a complete answer to the implications of your questions, and certainly it is no Christological treatise, but to be honest, I just don't have the energy or the motivation to even try to write such a thing, and certainly not on this blog! I do not deny the aim of what the Christological Councils wanted to affirm about Christ and his relationship to the One he called Abba, Father; certainly I have studied these Councils (and the language they used!) but even so, I neither speak, live, nor understand reality in terms of the language (words and categories of thought and understanding) that were used in those Councils. Further, I believe that that language itself, despite the brilliance of those wielding it, fell far short ("missed the mark") and could only have fallen far short of capturing or expressing the paradoxes of the Christ Event fully and definitively revealed on the Cross! 

Now, I completely agree that all human language falls short of the heart of our faith, that Mystery that is ineffable, but in some important ways, the Greek categories of the Christological Councils made faith harder rather than easier and introduced obstacles into the way we see ourselves and the world God entrusted to us. (cf for instance, "Pebble, Peach, Pooch, Person," pp 159-168 as a critique of "the so-called "hierarchy of being" or cf.,"Nature, a Neighbor" (pp 153-158) in Elizabeth Johnson's Come Have Breakfast. Other essays in this book are also pertinent.) Semitic thought, and certainly Christianity itself, is profoundly paradoxical whereas Greek thought has a similarly profound difficulty in dealing with paradox. This means that being people of faith in God and his revelation in Jesus the Christ, sometimes calls for us to let go of certain categories of thought, and often to learn new ones** if we really want to hear and understand what the Christ Event and the NT reveals to us.

** it is not easy for those of us raised in 20-21st C Western ways of thinking to deal with paradox. To understand that Jesus' humanity best reveals the nature of transcendent Divinity, or that our God is one whose power is most perfectly revealed in weakness (2 Cor 12:9), or even that in emptying himself of his prerogatives as God, the One Jesus called Abba is most fully and perfectly Godself, all demand the ability to perceive and reflect on the paradoxical nature of ultimate reality. If you have ever tried to teach people to think in terms of paradox, you'll know how difficult this is. But consider the Beatitudes, for example, and try to make sense of them via non-paradoxical categories of thought. In this way they will tend to simply seem absurd, the foolishness of those "who cannot think rationally".

On the Distinction Between Using Our Gifts and Being the Gift (Reprise from July 2015)

[[Hi Sister. I've been reading what you wrote on chronic illness as vocation. I wondered why God would give a person gifts they could never really use.  And if their gifts can't be used then how do they serve or glorify God? I mean I do believe people who can't use God-given gifts still serve God but we are supposed to use our gifts and what if we can't? Since you are a hermit do you ever feel that you cannot use your gifts? Does it matter? Does canonical standing make better use of your gifts than non-canonical standing? I hope this is not gibberish?]]

These are great questions and no, not gibberish at all. The pain of being given gifts which we may not be able to use because of chronic illness or other life circumstances is, in my experience, one of the most difficult and bewildering things we can know. The question "WHY?!!" is one of those we are driven to ask by such situations. We ask it of God, of the universe, of the silence, of friends and family, of books and teachers and pastors and ministers; we ask it of ourselves too though we know we don't have the answer. In one way and another we ask it in many different ways of whomever will listen --- and sometimes we force people to listen to the screams of anguish our lives become as we embed this question in all we are and do. Whether we act out, withdraw, retreat into delusions, turn seriously to religion or philosophy, resort to crime, become workaholics for whom money is the measure of meaning, create great works of art, or whatever else we do, the question, WHY?! often stands at the heart of our searching, activism, depression, confusion, and pain. This is true even when our lives have not been derailed by chronic illness, but of course when that or other catastrophic events occur to us the question assumes a critical importance. And of course, we can live years and years without finding an answer. I think you will understand when I say that "WHY?!" is the question which, no matter how it is posed throughout our lives, we each are.

One thing I should be clear about is that God gives us gifts because he wills us to use them and is delighted when we can and do so. I do not believe God gives gifts to frustrate us or to be wasted. But, as Paul puts the matter, and as we know from experience, there are powers and principalities at work in our world and lives which are not of God. God does not will chronic illness, for instance. Illness is a symptom and consequence of sin --- that is, it is the result of being estranged to some extent from the source and ground of life itself. Even so, though God does not will our illness, he will absolutely work to bring good out of it to whatever degree he can. Especially, God will work so that illness is no longer the dominant reality of our lives. It may remain, but where once it was the defining reality of our lives and identity, God will work so that grace becomes the dominant theme our lives sing instead; illness, though still very real perhaps, then becomes a kind of subtext adding depth and poignancy but lacking all pretensions of ultimacy.

This is really the heart of my answer to your questions. Each of us has many gifts we would like to develop and use. I think most of us have more gifts than we can actually do that with. For instance, if I choose to play violin and thus spend time and resources on lessons, practice periods, music, and time with friends who also play music, I may not be able to spend the time I could spend on writing or theology, or even certain kinds of prayer I also associate with divine giftedness. This is a normal situation and we all must make these kinds of choices as we move through life. Still, while we must make decisions regarding which gifts we will develop and which we will allow to lay relatively fallow there is a deeper choice involved at every moment, namely, what kind of person will we be in any case? When chronic illness takes the question of developing and using specific gifts out of our hands, when we cannot use our education, for instance, or no longer work seriously in our chosen field, when we cannot raise a family, hold a job, or perhaps even volunteer at Church in ways we might once have done, the question that remains is that of who we are and who will we be in relation to God.

The key here is the grace of God, that is, the powerful presence of God. Illness does not deprive us of the grace of God nor of the capacity to respond to that grace. In my own process of becoming a hermit, as you know, I had had my own life derailed by chronic illness. Fortunately, I had prepared to do Theology and loved systematics so that I read Theology even as illness deprived me of the possibility of doing this as a profession. I was also "certain" that I was called to some form of religious life; these two dimensions were gifts that helped me hold onto a perspective that transcended illness and disability, and at least potentially, promised to make sense of these.

My professors (but especially John C Dwyer) had introduced me to an amazing theology of the cross (both Pauline and Markan) which focused on a soteriology (a theology of redemption) stressing that even the worst that befalls a human being can witness to the redemption possible with God. In Mark's version of the gospel, the bottom line is that when all the props are kicked out, God will bring life out of death and meaning out of senselessness. In Paul's letters I was reminded many times that the center of things is his affirmation: "My (i.e., God's) grace is sufficient for you; my power is made perfect in weakness." Meanwhile, at one point I began working with a spiritual director who believed unquestioningly in the power of God alive in the core of our being and provided me with tools to help allow that presence to expand and triumph in my heart and life. In the course of our work together, my own prayer shifted from being something I did (or struggled to do!) to something God did within me. (This shift was especially occasioned and marked by the prayer experience I have mentioned here before.) In time I became a contemplative but at this point in time illness still meant isolation rather than the communion of solitude.

All of these pieces and others came together in a new way when I read canon 603 and began considering eremitical life.  The eremitical life is dependent upon God's call of course, but everything about it also witnesses to the truth that God's grace is enough for us and God's power is perfected in weakness. When we speak about the hiddenness of the life it is this active and powerful presence of God who graces us that is of first concern. I have many gifts, but in this life there is no doubt that they generally remain hidden and many are even entirely unused while the grace of God makes me the hermit I am called to be. Mainly this occurs in complete hiddenness. I may think and write about this life; I may do theology and a very little adult faith formation for my parish; I may do a limited amount of spiritual direction, play some violin in an orchestra, and even write on this blog and for publication to some extent --- though never to the extent I might have done these things had chronic illness not knocked my life off the rails. But the simple fact is if I were unable to do any of these things my vocation would be the same. I am called to BE a hermit, a whole and holy human being who witnesses to the deepest truth of our lives experienced in solitude: namely, God alone is sufficient for us. We are made whole and completed in the God who seeks us unceasingly and will never abandon us.

So you see, as I understand it anyway, my life is not so much about using the gifts God undoubtedly gave me at birth so much as it is about being the gift which God's love makes of me. Who I am as the result of God's grace is the essential ministry and witness of my life. Answering a call to eremitical life required that I really respond to a call I sensed from God, a call to abundant life --- not the life focused on what I could do much less on what I could not do, but the life of who God would make me to be if given the ongoing opportunity to shape my heart day by day by day. Regarding public profession and canonical standing under c 603, let me say that it took me some time to come to the place where I was really ready for these; today I experience even the long waiting required as a gift of God.

Paradoxically a huge part of my readiness for perpetual eremitical vows was coincident with coming to a place where I did not really need the Church's canonical standing except to the extent I was bringing them a unique gift. You see, I knew that the Holy Spirit had worked in my life to redeem an isolation and alienation occasioned mainly by chronic illness. THAT was the gift I was bringing the Church, the charism I was seeking to publicly witness to in the name of the Church by seeking public profession and consecration. That the Holy Spirit worked this way in my life in the prayer and lectio of significant solitude seems to me to be precisely what constitutes the gift of eremitical life.  (Of course canonical standing and especially God's consecration has also been a great gift to me but outlining that is another, though related, topic.)

Thus, when I renewed my petition to the Diocese of Oakland regarding admission to perpetual profession and consecration in the early 2000's, eremitical solitude had already transformed my life. I was already a hermit not because of any particular standing but because I lived the truth of redemption mediated to me in the silence of solitude. I sought consecration because now I clearly recognized this gift belonged to the Church and was meant for others; public standing in the consecrated state made that possible in a unique way. I was not seeking the Church's approval of this gift so I could be made a hermit "with status" so much as I was seeking a way to make a genuine expression of eremitical life and the redemption of isolation and meaninglessness it represented better known and accessible to others. That, I think, is the real importance of canonical standing, especially for the hermit; it witnesses more to the work of the Holy Spirit within the Church, more to the contemplative primacy of being over doing, and thus, less to the personal gifts of the person being professed and consecrated.

By the way, along the way I do use many of the gifts God has given me to some extent. Yesterday, for instance, I was able to play violin for a funeral Mass. I don't do this often at all because I personally prefer to participate in Mass differently than this, but it was a joy to do for friends in the parish. (A number of people who really do know me pretty well commented, "I didn't know you played the violin!") Today I did a Communion service and reflection as I do many Fridays during the year. Often times, as I have noted here before, I write reflections on weekly Scripture lections, and of course I write here and other places and do spiritual direction. This allows me to use some of my theology for others but even more fundamentally it is an expression of who I am in light of the grace of God in my life. Even so, the important truth is that the eremitical vocation (and, I would argue, any vocation to chronic illness!) is much more about being the gift God makes of us  --- no matter how hidden eremitical life or our illness makes that gift --- than it is a matter of focusing on or being anxious about using or not using the gifts God has given us.

In other words my life glorifies God and is a service to God's People even if no one has a clue what specific gifts God has given me because it reveals the power of God to redeem and transfigure a reality fraught with sin, death, and the power of the absurd. A non-eremitical vocation to chronic illness does the same thing if only one can allow God's grace to work in and transfigure them. We ourselves as covenant partners of God in all things then become the incarnate "answer" to the often-terrible question, "WHY?!!"  In Christ, in our graced and transfigured lives, this question ceases to be one of unresolved torment; instead, it becomes both an invitation to and an instance of hope-filled witness and joyful proclamation. "WHY??" So that Christ might live in me and in me triumph over all that brings chaos and meaninglessness to human lives. WHY?1! So that the God of life may triumph over the powers of sin and death in us, the Spirit may transform isolation into genuine solitude in us, and the things that ordinarily separate us from God may become sacraments of God's presence and inescapable, unconquerable love in us!

I hope this is helpful and answers your questions.

Following up on the Hiddenness of the Eremitical Life

[[ Dear Sister, what you wrote in your last post about the hiddenness of the hermit vocation was very striking to me. Is this a new position or the intensification of one you had come to before?]]

Thanks for writing. The position is a deepening of something I have known for a while now. It looks like I began writing about hiddenness with a post in 2008 on essential hiddenness and a call to extraordinary ordinariness and followed that up with others. I began to focus on hiddenness again around August of 2014 and wrote on the difference between the value and the utility of eremitical life. I put up several posts in the Summer of 2015 so I am going to repost one of those below. All of this recent work, and some of the earlier stuff, comes from the coincidence of questions regarding anonymity, accountability, and my own continuing inner work --- what my Director might refer to as the deepening of one's participation or sharing in the Mystery of love and life ---that is, the Mystery at the heart of reality we call God.

Witnessing to the God who Saves:

[[Sister Laurel, when you write, "in every person's life God works silently in incredible hiddenness," I wonder. Is this what the followers of Francis de Sales mean by "interiority?" I spoke with [a Sister friend] a few months ago - and she asked me "How is that interiority coming?" I didn't know how to answer her, but I thought it might be something like this.]] (There were other questions included in this email about the distinction between being the gift and using gifts. Some reflected on the idea of merely being present to others and being gift in that way. I focus on those here as well.)

 

While it is true I am saying the hermit is a gift simply in being present to others, I am saying more than that as well because quite often (in fact, most of the time) a hermit is present to no one but God. Before you go out and do, before you are present to or for others in any way at all, and even if you never go out to others, I am saying that God is at work in you healing and sanctifying. That, as I understand it,  is the witness of the hermit life. That is its special gift or charism.  We say this with our lives; whether we ever speak to a living soul, pray for another person or not (though of course we will pray for others), whether we ever write another word, or paint another picture, or use our individual gifts in any way at all, we witness to the Gospel  and to the God who makes us whole and holy simply by being ourselves as redeemed.

Extending this to you and all others it means that should you (or they) never take another person shopping, never make another person smile, never use the gift you are in any way except to allow the God who is faithfulness itself to be faithful to you, THAT is the hiddenness and the gift I am mainly talking about. Yes, it involves the hiddenness of God at work in us but that is the very reason we ourselves are gift. We witness to the presence of God in the silence of solitude, in the darkness, in the depths of aloneness, etc. We do that by becoming whole, by becoming loving (something that requires an Other to love us and call us to love), by not going off the rails in solitude and by not becoming narcissists or unbalanced cynics merely turned in on self and dissipated in distraction. We do it by relating to God, that is, by allowing God to be God.

Cultivating this sense of God at work in us, emptying ourselves (or being stripped by circumstances and learning to see this as an incredible gift) so that we only witness to God, allowing ourselves to let go of anything but God as the source and validation of our lives is, I think at least, the heart of cultivating a sense of interiority. Interiority itself is our life of Communion with the God who is the creator, source, and ground of that same life. Its focus is God and includes his redemption of us, his healing, sanctification, and intimacy. When I wrote here before about developing a spirituality of discernment I was also writing about cultivating interiority. That is why resisting discernment while speaking constantly about “discerning” is actually a resistance to the development of interiority; if one cannot deal with one's feelings and all that is going on within them, then neither can one claim to be a discerning person with a healthy interiority.  If and to the extent one does not see the whole of reality from the perspective of the light and life of God, then to that extent one has not developed a genuine interiority. (I will have to ask my pastor about St Francis de Sales' own take on interiority! I simply don't know Francis well enough.) 

Most of us witness to all of this by using our gifts. Hermits (and especially recluses) do it by flourishing in an environment that really does say God alone is enough. In this environment the gifts we have possessed from birth and for whose development we have often spent time, money and effort in education and training may well be largely irrelevant. When I speak of us being the gift I mean that the hermit's very life and capacity for love says God is real, faithful, and an intimate, integral, and even inalienable part of our deepest reality. My eremitical life is not about me, my intelligence, my persistence (and stubbornness!), my creativity (or lack thereof), my musicality, or any other specific talents that may also be present. It is about God as source and ground, God as faithful lover, friend and sovereign, God as redeemer who will never let go of us but instead transfigures us so we truly image God. That is what makes my life a gift --- even, and maybe especially, when I do not touch anyone directly, even when I reject the role of "prayer warrior" (which seems to me to emphasize a kind of worldly perspective on the primacy of doing over being), even when chronic illness allows for no ministry at all but only my own hungry and even desperate openness to God in weakness and incapacity.

The church that professed and consecrated me under a new and largely unprecedented canon witnesses to this truth. The existence of canon 603 itself witnesses to this eremitical truth and describes the gift it represents under the heading “the silence of solitude”.  My bishop and delegate witness to this by coming to know me and the way God has worked in my life, as well as by professing me and continuing to allow me to live this life in the name of the Church. This witness to the providence of God at work in the silence of solitude is why canonical standing and the relationships established there in law are so vital. The church continues to esteem eremitical life as a pure, even starkly contemplative instance of the abundant sufficiency of God. God is the gift this life witnesses to precisely as it turns its back on --- or is stripped of --- every gift it otherwise ‘possesses’.  And of course, this is also why c 603 must not be misused or abused as a stopgap solution for those with no true eremitical vocation. To do so is, for instance, to risk honoring selfishness and spiritual mediocrity ("lukewarmness") or institutionalizing cowardice and misanthropy. The eremitical life is a generous one of giving oneself to God for the sake of others. But it is also rare to be graced or called to witness in this particular form of stripping and emptying (kenosis).

As I noted here recently, I once thought contemplative life and especially eremitic life was a waste and incredibly selfish. For those authentic hermits the Church professes and consecrates, and for those authentic lay hermits who live in a hiddenness only God can and does make sense of, the very thing that made this life look selfish to me is its gift or charism. It is the solitude of the hermit's life, the absence of others, and even her inability to minister actively to others or use her gifts that God transforms into an ultimate gift. Of course, in coming to understand this, it is terribly important that we see the "I" of the hermit as the "We" symbolized by the term "the silence of solitude". It is equally important that we never profess anyone who does not thrive as a human being in this particular environment. In other words, my life, I think, is meant to witness starkly and exclusively to the God who makes of an entirely impoverished "me" a sacramental "We" when I could do nothing at all but allow this to be done in me.

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 Tirade 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 Tirade) --- 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.

On Anonymity and Accountability in c 603 Vocations (Reprise from 2015)

v

While this reprises some aspects of a recent discussion on anonymity, hiddenness, and public, ecclesial vocations, it also does a better job of looking at anonymity as potentially irresponsible.

[[Dear Sister. What are your views on anonymity for hermits? I read an article today by a Catholic Hermit who has decided to remain anonymous since that helps her prevent pride. You choose not to remain anonymous so I am wondering about your thinking on this.]]

It's a timely question and an important one not least because it points to the responsible nature of ecclesial vocations. The first thing to remember is that if one claims to be a Catholic hermit, that is, one who lives an eremitical life in the name of the Church via profession (always a public act) and consecration, then one has been commissioned to live a public ecclesial vocation. If one claims the title "Catholic Hermit" or "consecrated hermit", etc., in creating a blog or other website, for instance, then one really doesn't have the right to remain entirely anonymous any longer. This is because people who read the blog have commensurate rights to know who you are, who supervises your vocation, who professed and consecrated you and commissioned you to live this life in the name of the Church. If they have concerns with what you write, they must then be able to contact you and, if really necessary, your legitimate superiors.

Ways of Maintaining Appropriate Accountability:

One thing that is possible, of course, is to say that this blog (etc) is the blog of a "Diocesan Hermit of the Diocese of Oakland," for instance, without providing one's given name. In doing so I would still be maintaining accountability to the Church for this vocation and what comes from it.  If there is ever a serious concern, then the Diocese of Oakland (for instance) will know whose blog is being referenced. (In this case, they may not ordinarily concern themselves with my everyday writing because they do not micromanage my activities --- my delegate would tend to know more about my blogging, I think --- but they will know whose blog this is and deal appropriately with serious complaints or concerns that might arise.) However, it seems to me one still needs to provide a way for folks to contact one so the chancery isn't turned into the recipient of relatively trivial communications which are an actual imposition. (I, for instance, do not usually provide my hermitage address, but people who prefer not to email may write me at my parish. This would work even if I did not give my name but used "Diocesan Hermit" instead because the parish knows precisely who I am and provides a mailbox for me.)

A second solution is to blog or whatever the activity without claiming in any way to be a Catholic hermit, Diocesan hermit, consecrated person, professed religious, etc. As soon as one says I am a Catholic Hermit (or any version of this) one has claimed to be living a vocation in the name of the Church and the public writing one does, especially if it is about eremitical life, spirituality, etc, is something one is publicly accountable for as a piece of that living. So, the choice is clear, either write as a private person and remain anonymous (if that is your choice) or write as a representative of a public vocation and reveal who you are --- or at least to whom you are legitimately accountable. Nothing else is really charitable or genuinely responsible.

Some may point to books published by an anonymous nun or monk, books published with the author "a Carthusian"  (for instance), as justification for anonymity without clear accountability, but it is important to remember that the Carthusian Order, for instance, has its own censors (theologians and editors) and other authorities who approve the publication of texts which represent the Order. The Carthusians are very sensitive about the use of the name Carthusian or the related post-nomial initials, O Cart., and they use these as a sign of authenticity and an act of ecclesial responsibility. (The same is true of the Carthusian habit because these represent a long history which every member shares and is responsible for.) The Order is in turn answerable to the larger Church and hierarchy who approve their constitutions, etc. Thus, while the average reader may never know the names of the individual monks or nuns who wrote the series of "Novice Conferences," for instance, nor even know the specific Charterhouse from whence they wrote, concerns with the contents can be brought to the Church and the Carthusian Order through appropriate channels. This ensures a good blend of accountability and privacy. It also allows one to write without worrying about what readers think or say while still doing so responsibly and in charity. Once again, this is an example of the importance of stable canonical relationships, which are established with public profession and consecration --- something the next section will underscore.

The Question of Pride:

It is true that one has to take care not to become too taken with the project, whatever it is, or with oneself as the author or creator. With blogs, people read, ask questions, comment, praise, criticize, etc, and like anything else, all of this can tempt one to forget what a truly tiny project the blog or website is in the grand scheme of things. But, anonymity online has some significant drawbacks and a lack of honesty and genuine accountability --- which are essential to real humility, I think --- are two of these. How many of us have run into blogs or message boards that lack charity and prudence precisely because the persons writing there are (or believe they are) anonymous? Some of the cruelest and most destructive pieces of writing I have ever seen were written by those who used screen names to hide behind.

Unfortunately, this can be true of those writing as "Catholic Hermits" too. I have read such persons denigrating their pastors (for supposedly having no vocations, caring little for the spiritual growth of their parishioners, doing literally "hellish" things during Mass, etc), or denigrating their bishops and former bishops (for whining, lying, and betraying the hermit to the new bishop) --- all while remaining relatively anonymous except for the designation "Catholic Hermit" and the name of her cathedral. How is this responsible or charitable? How does it not reflect negatively on the vocation of legitimate Catholic hermits or the eremitical vocation more generally? Meanwhile, these same bloggers criticize Diocesan hermits who post under their own names accusing them of "pride" because they are supposedly not sufficiently "hidden from the eyes of" others.

Likewise, over the past several years, I have been asked about another hermit's posts, which have left readers seriously concerned regarding her welfare. This person writes (blogs) about the interminable suffering (chronic pain) she experiences, the lack of heat, and the serious cold she lives in in the Winter months which causes her to spend entire days in bed and under blankets and that left her with pneumonia last Winter; she writes of the terrible living conditions involving the ever-present excrement of vermin --- now dried and aerosolized, holes in walls (or complete lack of drywall and insulation), continuing lack of plumbing (no toilet) or hot water despite her marked physical incapacities, the fact that she cannot afford doctors or medicines or appropriate tests and may need eventually to live in a shelter when her dwindling money runs out. Unfortunately, because all of this is written anonymously by a "consecrated Catholic Hermit," presumably living eremitical life in the name of the Church, it raises unaddressable questions not only about her welfare but about the accountability of her diocese and the soundness and witness of the contemporary eremitical vocation itself.

This poster's anonymity means that those who are concerned can neither assist nor contact her diocese to raise concerns with them. Here, anonymity conflicts with accountability. While it is true diocesan hermits are self-supporting and have vows of poverty, readers have, quite legitimately, I think, asked if this is really the way the Church's own professed and consecrated hermits live. Does the Church profess and consecrate its solitary hermits (or facilely allow them to transfer to another diocese) and then leave them to struggle in such circumstances without oversight or assistance? Is this the kind of resource-less candidate the Church commissions to represent consecrated eremitical life? Would this be prudent? Charitable? Is it typical of the way consecrated life in the church works? Does a hermit's diocese and bishop truly have or exercise no responsibility in such cases? How are such hermits to be helped?? Unfortunately, the combination of this poster's relative anonymity and her lack of accountability, prudence, and discretion can be a serious matter on a number of levels.

In other words, while pride may be a problem (or at least a temptation!) for those of us who blog openly, it may well be that anonymity itself may lead to an even greater arrogance whose symptoms include writing irresponsibly and without prudence, discretion, or real accountability. Thus, anonymity can be helpful so long as one still exercises real accountability. Importantly, one needs to determine the real motives behind either posting publicly or choosing anonymity. Simply choosing anonymity does not mean one is exercising the charity required of a hermit. It may even be a piece of a fabric of deception --- including self-deception.  For instance, if one chooses anonymity to prevent others from learning they are not publicly professed, especially while criticizing the "pride" of diocesan hermits who choose to post openly, then this is seriously problematic on several levels.

At the same time, some authentic Catholic hermits choose to let go of their public vocational identities for a particular limited project (like participation in an online discussion group or the authoring of a blog) and write as private persons. This is a valid solution --- though not one I have felt justified in choosing myself --- because one does not claim to be a Catholic hermit in these limited instances. And of course, some of us decide simply to be upfront with our names, not because we are prideful, but because for us it is an act of honesty, responsibility, and charity for those reading our work or who might be interested in the eremitical vocation. The bottom line in all of this is that anonymity may or may not be a necessary piece of the life of the hermit. For that matter, it may be either edifying or disedifying depending on how it protects an absolutely non-negotiable solitude or privacy and allows for true accountability or is instead used to excuse irresponsibility, disingenuousness,  or even outright deception.

Summary:

The hiddenness of the eremitical life is only partly that of externals. More importantly, and much more centrally, it has to do with the inner life of submission to the powerful presence of God within one's heart. Sometimes that inner life calls for actual anonymity, and sometimes it will not allow it. Since the vocation of the Catholic hermit is a public and ecclesial one, any person posting or otherwise acting publicly as a Catholic hermit has surrendered any right to absolute anonymity; they are accountable for what they say and do because they are supposedly acting in the name of the Church.  The need for and value of anonymity must be measured against the requirements of accountability and charity.