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.

A Little on the Purported "Univocal Meaning" of the Central Terms of Canon 603

[[Sister Laurel, if c 603 says you are to live the silence of solitude, then why is it some hermits live with others? You wrote recently that you are not committed to absolute solitude, absolute silence, or absolute separation from the world. But if you are bound by this law, this canon, why not? Solitude means one thing, not many. Silence means one thing, not many. Separation means one thing, not many. You are called to obey this law and the Church consecrated and professed you to do just this, isn't that so? Isn't that what your Rule is supposed to help you do? One hermit who speaks about this says that she has chosen the law of God over a man-made law like this canon. You made your choice, a different choice I would say, so doesn't this obligate you to live this law absolutely?]]

This is an incredibly rich series of questions, so thank you. I think the first thing I need to clarify in order to get to all you have asked is the nature of canon law, and more specifically, the nature of the revised or 1983 Code of Canon Law. Like all things in the Church, canon law is contextualized in different ways; it does not stand alone, ever! Canon law serves the Church in important ways, but it is always subservient to the Gospel of God, and the life and law of discipleship measured according to Jesus Christ and the Law of Love. Our current Code of Canon Law embodies this, not only in certain canons themselves but in the very fact that it was revised in light of Vatican II. 

The 1917 Code was contextualized within a monarchical vision of Church and it reflected that ecclesial model. But Vatican II introduced (reintroduced!!) the guiding model of the Church as a Communion of Believers, a Faith Community, and more, a Communion of local Churches. Contemporary church law is meant to be read, practiced, and applied within that very different context as well as at the service of that reality. In the older code and the context in which it was read, a relative few were rulers (Bishops and to a lesser extent, priests) and the rest were the ruled. But in the Code of 1983 things changed radically; the values and especially the ecclesiology of Vatican II were embodied in the canons per se, but even when this was/is not the case, Vatican II's ecclesiology (and theology of discipleship, for instance) serve as the context for interpreting every canon of the Code. Thus, when we are baptized we are ALL made "priests, prophets, and rulers (or kings)" and the revised Code regards this in ways the older code never did or could.  Yes, Bishops have specific rights and obligations under law, but so do all of the faithful. We are all the Church and canon law is meant to serve us each and all in our vocation to be church, the assembly of the called ones, the ecclesia.

So, with that in mind consider all of the voices that need to be heard in interpreting a canon like c 603. Yes, bishops certainly have an important role in that, and so do all those who have both succeeded and failed at living eremitical life through the many centuries of Christian and Jewish tradition. Thus, too Scripture has a considerable role in assisting us in interpreting this canon, and so do linguists, poets, sociologists, psychologists, philosophers, historians, and theologians (et. al.) who reflect variously on the nature of the human person and human wholeness or holiness and where eremitism fits into this. Hermits are among those most critically involved in interpreting this canon, not because they live it perfectly (whatever that might mean!), are great scholars of eremitical life, or because they are somehow magically or mystically omniscient about all of this, but because they are committed to coming to union with God as, in one way and another, they negotiate the historical tributaries of the eremitical river in which they have committed themselves to stand and journey onward. 

I was reminded of the importance of the way we each do that on Monday morning when I met with the other c 603 hermits in our small "virtual laura". We are reading Wencel's book  Eremitic Life together. Sister Anunziata (Diocese of Knoxville) picked up a word we had been exploring a little. She pointed to one place Wencel had used it in the chapter and then compared it to a similar passage from St John of the Cross to comment on Wencel's meaning. She then took the further step of noting that the entire structure of this chapter mirrored the whole oeuvre of John's work. It was a wonderful insight and a truly brilliant bit of analysis on Sister's part; it was an exhilarating experience for me and I believe it reminded us of the histories we bring to this life and also, therefore, to the varying and similar ways we are called by God to interpret the canon within the Body of Christ and for the sake of that same Body. 

This brings me to the meaning of words in the canon. I wrote recently that I understand the term "solitude" as the redemption of isolation. I can only do that against a personal history with or experience of isolation -- at least enough to understand that eremitical solitude is vastly different despite superficial similarities. Someone without this same background or personal experience, even other hermits, might not be able to understand why I say this. Sister Anunziata's profound knowledge of St John of the Cross's work allowed her to say something about a chapter each of us other diocesan hermits were familiar with but did not see ourselves. Words are vastly rich resources and very few of them have only a univocal meaning or sense. That is certainly true of c 603's vocabulary.

As I have noted before here, each of the terms of c 603, the central defining elements of the canon serves as a doorway to Mystery. Yes, we need to know the basic sense of these terms to enter into the sense of this reality at all, but once we have stepped over that threshold, the richness of the term is opened to us. It is the job of hermits, and particularly c 603 hermits, to give their lives over to the exploration of the realms these "canonical" doorways open to us. That is what my own commitment is about, and it is certainly part of what is involved in my vow of obedience. But obedience, vowed or otherwise, is about attentiveness, listening care-fully with the ear of one's heart, responding appropriately to the address of Mystery, especially when we spell that with an upper case M!

The Divine Mystery stands behind every element of c 603, and the canon itself is merely a norm trying to define the outlines of a wondrous journey to a place deep within us where we meet Mystery face-to-face and (may even) dance with him! Those outlines are important, and assisting others to find their way to and into this foreign realm is similarly important, but all of this is meant to serve the dance and, more importantly, the Lord of the dance and those who are called to share in all of this to be fully human. Canon 603, like any other canon in the Code, serves God who is love-in-act and God's compelling law of love that lives deep within us yearning to be set free and embodied in all the ways that energize and shape us as disciples of Christ. But, to mix my metaphors, c 603 is but a single mansion in a kingdom of many mansions, and all of these are important and valid ways and witnesses to the Kingdom and its Law of Love. None of them supplant it!!

So, no, I have not chosen a man-made law over the Law of God. I have accepted and embraced a man-made law that (I believe and the Church affirms) was inspired by the Holy Spirit so that I may truly explore and live God's law of love in the name of and for the sake of the Church!! I am professed and consecrated to live the canon, and for this reason, I continue to explore and negotiate its depths and riches. Though I do this in the silence of solitude, I am also accompanied by others and sometimes accompany them in a way that informs my interpretation of the canon. When you say I must live this law absolutely, I am not even sure what that means, but if it means accepting the terms that are central to this canon have only a univocal sense, I would argue that has less to do with obedience than it does with a betrayal of the canon's richness; it may even represent a refusal to truly be attentive to the Divine Mystery that seeks to meet and dance with us in and through it.

Readers, please note, in later posts (March 23, 2025 forward), I draw a distinction between physical solitude and existential solitude. Existential solitude is involved during the journey we make to the deepest depths of ourselves to the place we meet God and our truest selves as well. Physical Solitude is important in making such a journey possible; it serves it, but this does not mean we can absolutize it as the defining characteristic of a hermit or the only meaning of the term solitude.