On the Beauty and Depth of c 603 (Reprise)

[[Sister Laurel, I wondered why you write about canon 603 now, so many years after you have been professed. It sounds to me like you believe it is important to hermits even after they have been consecrated. I realize that the canon describes what is necessary to be admitted to canonical standing, and I get you might want to be writing for those interested in becoming diocesan hermits, but is there something more to it than that? Why concern yourself with the law once you're admitted under a law? I wondered if you could explain that. . . .]]

Good to hear from you; it has been a while!! Interesting observations and questions!  Yes, I continue to write about canon 603 for one particular reason; namely, as I have come to perceive it, it is not merely a canon allowing for admission to profession and consecration (as historically and ecclesially important as this is); instead, the canon prescribes a profound and often unimagined way of life constituted by the central elements named therein. Many mistakenly treat these elements as though their meaning is obvious and easily understood and lived. For instance, poverty, chastity, and obedience seem clear enough. So do "Stricter separation from the world", "assiduous prayer and penance" and "the silence of solitude". That one is required to write a Rule of life may seem a requirement anyone can easily accomplish, and dioceses routinely send folks off to do this without instructions or assistance -- fully expecting they will be able to succeed at the task, but this is not so easy really. 

Beneath the words of the canon in this element and in all the others, however, there are worlds the hermit is called to (and will need to) explore, embrace, and embody if they are to truly be a canon 603 hermit. The canon supplies, in significant ways, the windows to these worlds. Because I petitioned to be admitted to profession under this canon and because the Church professed, consecrated, and commissioned me to do so, I am living and exploring this particular eremitical life; gradually I have come to know or at least glimpse the depths of the life prescribed by the canon --- even when I have not lived into them as fully as I am yet called to. 

 As a corollary, in some ways, I have come to know the depths of the canon itself. I write about canon 603 now 14 [now 17] years after perpetual profession and consecration because, from within this life, I continue to see new things in the canon --- things Diocesan bishops and Vicars for Religious (who often know very little about such a life or canon 603 itself) need to see, things candidates need to have a sense of as they approach mutual discernment and formation in this call, and things those professed under canon 603 are also committed to exploring. Especially, I continue to write about canon 603 because, from within this life, I have always perceived a beauty about it and the way it blends non-negotiable elements with the freedom and flexibility of a solitary life lived for the sake of others in response to the Holy Spirit. It both demands and allows for profound eremitical experience before profession and it both calls for and empowers even greater depth and breadth in living this life thereafter. You see, it is not just the single elements of the canon nor their apparently "obvious" meanings that are important -- though of course, they are crucial. It is what is implicit and profound in them and in the fabric they weave together that is also critical to appreciating canon 603. 

This kind of appreciation is important not just for the hermit herself, but also for dioceses seeking to use the canon appropriately and for canonists whose tendency is to want to add additional requirements and legislative elements to the canon before admitting anyone to profession. Canonists tend also to look at c 603 simply in terms of its legal dimensions, particularly seizing on (or sussing out) legal loopholes rather than reflecting on the vocation itself, [as happened in the Diocese of Lexington this last Pentecost. (2024)] More and more I have come to see that these added elements are unnecessary, not only because eremitical life itself doesn't need them, but because canon 603 itself does not. Of course, in coming to appreciate the beauty I referred to above, and the surprising adequacy or sufficiency of the canon, one must be open to seeing there what is more than superficial or even more than significantly explicit. One must be able to see the implicit depths and Mystery below the surface.

 Let me give you an example. The canon requires the solitary hermit to write her own Rule. However, it doesn't explicitly define the nature of the Rule and whether it will function as law, Gospel, law and Gospel (or Gospel and law); will it be primarily or wholly a list of do's and don'ts, limitations and permissions, or will it provide a vision of the life the hermit is committing to live with whatever that requires? Nor does c 603 explicitly require that it be a liveable Rule which may only come to be after the hermit has written at least several drafts. And yet both of these, rooted in the hermit's lived experience and long reflection, must be understood as called for by canon 603. Another example is the central element, "stricter separation from the world." What does it really mean? What does it call for from the hermit? I have written a lot about this element of the canon over the past decade and more, so I won't repeat all that here, but where in the canon does it speak of freedom from enmeshment with falsity, freedom for truth and honest engagement with and on behalf of God's good creation? These words are never used and yet, these are part, perhaps even the heart of what this element of ''stricter separation'' refers to.

Nor is it just a matter of getting under the superficial or common usage of the terms involved. One needs to begin to see the way they are related to one another and help in the weaving of a single reality. Both of the elements just noted, the requirement that the hermit write her own Rule and stricter separation from the world, demand the hermit engage in a process of growth and maturation in Christ specifically as a canon 603 or diocesan hermit. Moreover, the canon provides a vision of consecrated solitary eremitical life in the Church. Each element contributes to this vision, including those in both 603.1 and 603.2. At the same time, in service to the incarnation of this vision in an individual's life, canon 603 provides the means for a process of discernment and formation, both initial and ongoing, even though this process is not explicit in the text of the canon. 

The requirement that a hermit writes a liveable Rule confronts everyone participating in the process with the need for adequate discernment and formation. But how is this achieved? Do we need more canons? Must we borrow from canonical norms established (wisely and appropriately) for other and less individual forms of religious life? Again, I find c 603 beautiful and perhaps surprising in its sufficiency here: what is implicit in the requirement that the hermit write her own Rule is the fact that an adequate process of discernment and formation can be structured according to the hermit's growing abilities and capacities to write a liveable Rule of life that is true to canon 603's vision of solitary eremitical life.  Writing a liveable Rule of Life is not simply one element of the canon among others; it is the culmination of a process of reflection, prayer, study, and personal growth in Christ (and thus, in all the other elements of the canon) it itself guides and crystalizes. 

A hermit engaging in the writing of a liveable Rule will require accompaniment and assistance (a very small formation team, for instance). Still, the process envisioned here can be relatively simple and effective in guiding the diocese working with a candidate for profession. Certainly, it is respectful of the freedom required by both the hermit and the Holy Spirit in shaping and deepening this specific vocation. Best, it grows organically from (or is implicit in) the requirements of canon 603 itself.

To return more directly to your questions. Canon 603 is certainly a norm by which the Church recognizes, governs and thus perpetuates the vocations of solitary consecrated hermits. It is associated with canonical (legal) rights and obligations which bind the hermit. It defines the nature of the diocesan hermit's life and so, provides the central elements that mark this definition. It is here, however, that c 603 becomes something more than most canons because it is associated with a vision of the solitary eremitical life and a vision is not only about what is seen, but about the underlying mystery that grounds, inspires, and is to be manifested in the lives of those living under this canon. 

I believe that the authors of c 603 wrote something rich, perhaps richer than they knew. Canon 603 is a window opening onto Mystery; the mystery of eremitical life, of God and the way human beings are verified (made true) in communion with God, the mystery of the way even the most isolated life can be redeemed in solitude, and the mystery of the way even human and Divine solitude always imply community. Because all of this and more is true --- because canon 603 is not a once-used-now-essentially-irrelevant law (unless of course, one transgresses it!) but something far more that opens onto the Divine, I continue to reflect on, pray with, and write about c 603.

A Few Thoughts on Custody of the Eyes (reprise)

[[Hello Sister Laurel, Thank you for putting up the piece about the new movie. Custody of the eyes is not a phrase we hear much about today. When I looked it up I found a reference to "10 reasons men should always practice custody of the eyes" and some forum posts talking about avoiding lust, but why would cloistered nuns be practicing custody of the eyes so much to name a film about it? I mean is it really that central to life in a cloister? What am I missing?]]

Hi there and thanks for the questions. I agree that custody of the eyes is kind of an old-fashioned term and not one we use or, for that matter, practice much today, but in a congregation such as the Poor Clares or the Trappistines, for instance, it is a significant value which has a good deal less to do with avoiding lustful feelings and more with protecting the privacy, and more, the silence of solitude of one's Sisters and of the house more generally. Interestingly, custody of the eyes is meant to be combined with a genuine sensitivity to the needs of one's Sisters (or others more generally); for instance, one is expected to be aware if someone needs something at table and offer it, or to do something similar in work situations with tools and materials being used, so custody of the eyes does not mean closing oneself off to others, cultivating general unawareness, isolation, or anything similar. I think custody understood in this more balanced way is one of those values we ought all to cultivate as appropriate to our own states of life. It seems to me in some ways it is a vital practice our own technological and media-driven world really needs.

In last Friday's Gospel lection we heard the Matthean observation that the eye is the lamp of the body. In Matthew a good eye is a generous one; a bad or evil eye is the opposite. Additionally, one of the meanings of Matt's observation is that what we look on changes us and can be a source of light or (increasing) darkness. This can occur in many ways. We read classic works of literature or contemporary books that enlighten and shape us. We do the same with art and media of all sorts. Unfortunately, this may involve "literature" which demeans the human person, or it may involve visual input that does not even pretend to be art --- and rightly so. More commonly for most of us, it involves commercials or TV programs which objectify us, make a parody of and trivialize our lives even as they presume to tell us who we are, what we desire, and need, what we ought to value, buy, otherwise spend resources on, and so forth. Custody of the eyes in this kind of thing means allowing God to shape us and show us who we are and what we really need. It means refusing to allow others to define us or our own hearts especially. Custody of the eyes is a necessary element in being our (and God's!) own persons.

On the other hand, what we look on, that is, what we choose to look on and the way in which we do so speaks about our hearts; that is, it reflects either the light or the darknesses of our own hearts. Here is where generosity or its opposite become critical. We see this when we look on another person and judge them on the basis of appearances, or otherwise jump to conclusions on the basis of past hurts; but we also see it when we allow our compassion to perceive a person as God's own precious one who is really very like us, when we look with awe at the beauty which surrounds us or find beauty in the simplest thing rather than with the vision of someone who is bored and jaded and incapable of being truly surprised, and so forth. Custody of the eyes has as much to do with truly allowing the eyes to be the lamp of the whole person as with simply avoiding lust or lasciviousness.

Custody of the eyes allows a person to attend to their own hearts without constantly being distracted by the activity and sights around them. Especially, as it does this, it assists us in becoming people who see things truly, that is, who see things as God sees them. Moreover, it provides space and the gift of privacy for others with whom one lives; especially it provides for the communion we call "the silence of solitude" in which they too are seeking to dwell so that they too may be persons who see as God sees. Custody of the eyes intends our living with focus; it fosters the containment and denial of the incessant voice of curiosity and even prurience that has been intensified with the computer and social media environment and assists in following through on a project without getting distracted. (N.B., even the monastic cowl or cuculla ("hood") helps us maintain custody of the eyes and appropriate focus.) Thus, I think, the practice of custody of the eyes is rooted in a true reverence for others and for ourselves even as it helps create an environment where others may experience the same.

In a cloister or a lavra, for instance, silence does not cut us off from others or the demands of love. It is not a neutral reality but one that is carefully cultivated and allowed to flourish in love for the others who are also seeking God just as we are. It enfolds us each and joins us together in a supremely respectful embrace which is deeper than any word. It is a gift we offer one another. Custody of the eyes serves similarly and seems to me to be a piece of the monastic and eremitical values of stricter separation from the world and the silence of solitude especially. It too is ordered toward loving others and providing the gifts of space and privacy in which they may seek and commune with God while at the same time making sure they are profoundly supported in this.

Followup Questions on the DICLSAL Resources Text: Questions re One's Relationship with Bishop, Church, and World

[[Hi Sister, thanks for your last answer to my questions. When the DICLSAL resources text asks about one's relationship with the Bishop, Church and world, what are they talking about?]]

Thanks for your followup. I can only guess here based on my own experience and what I look for in myself and other c 603 hermits or candidates. Since the vocation is one lived for the praise of God and the salvation of the world, one's motivations must be those of love, both for God and for the world God created. Yes, one is seeking union with God in one's own life, but one does this so that God might be glorified (revealed) and the world might meet, embrace, and be embraced by a God whose love is truly unconditional. This element of c 603 introduces some tension into the life of the c 603 hermit, as does the public nature of the c 603 vocation. That tension exists between one's attention on the self and one's attention to the needs of others because both apparently contradictory focuses are present in the canon. 

The tension is resolved over time, however, precisely as one's motivations shift from a selfish quest for union with God to a concern with seeking this for God's own sake and for the sake of the world to whom one's life in solitude will actually witness. In other words, the resolution of this tension of eremitical life occurs within one's own heart as one grows in compassion. This growth involves a dying to self (including a blind or selfish focus on union with God!) so that one's entire life is lived for the sake of the other, first God, and then all that God holds precious. What I would guess formators look for is the presence of this tension --- and therefore, a certain amount of suffering by the candidate as, to some extent, they are pulled in one way and another until their hearts are enlarged sufficiently to experience the resolution of the tension causing the struggle; this resolution occurs in an encompassing compassion rooted in one's trust of God and the effectiveness of God's will in all of this.

There are certain attitudes, however, which will militate against the growth needed. For instance, a sense that the world is not precious to God, that it is not essentially sacramental, that it is "merely temporal" and is to be absolutely contrasted with a spiritual realm and spiritual approach to reality as well as that it will one day be entirely left behind for heaven, will not allow the hermit to progress toward the resolution already mentioned. Dualism will not work and is not called for by c 603. Instead, the hermit must trust that one day God will be all in all, and that the world, even in its distortion from truth, is to be loved into fullness or wholeness, not despised as simply antithetical to God. 

In approaching the requirements of c 603, the term "world" is used in two senses: 1) the world God has created, loves dearly, and wills to be an intimate and pervasive part of, and 2) the world as that which is resistant to Christ or that some choose to trust in for fulfillment apart from God. The hermit must be able to "balance" stricter separation from the world (sense #2) with love for the world as God's good creation (sense #1). Beginning hermits will experience and demonstrate greater tension and even some struggle in their lives in this regard while those who are more experienced will have come to a more or less paradoxical resolution of this tension embracing both senses of the term in what hermits know to be a solitude of deep relatedness and relationship. I believe DICLSAL is recognizing this fact as well as calling attention to the attitudes toward "the world" which will never lead to an appropriate resolution --or to what c 603 calls the silence of solitude. 

Regarding one's attitude toward the local bishop, again I can only guess. Certainly, one must be ready and able to make a vow of obedience to the bishop as one's legitimate superior. At the same time, one needs to be able to accept the delegated authority of those who assist the bishop to truly supervise the hermit's life and growth. These may be other bishops, priests, or religious women and men, including mentors drawn from c 603, with expertise in formation and contemplative or monastic and eremitical life. If, after profession/consecration one finds one has a (new) bishop who does not honor the c 603 vocation in the diocese, one must be able to patiently and humbly engage in living the life in ways that educate the new bishop. One may or may not succeed in this, but that is of less moment than simply and faithfully living solitary eremitical life with the grace of God and the help of Directors one has accompanying one. On the other hand, one may find that a (new or old) bishop understands contemplative life better than one does oneself. When this happens, it is a complete joy because at these times the degree of sharing is correlatively deeper and more enriching, and because the contact may spill over in a more direct benefit to the local church itself.

I suppose, then, that I am thinking the question about one's view of one's relationship with one's bishop, is meant to uncover attitudes of the heart once again. Does one accept authority well, can one balance that with the personal initiative and dependence on God alone necessary to live solitary eremitical life healthily? Is one open to contributing to the life of the Church through this relationship? If so, does one demonstrate openness to growing in one's understanding of and commitment to religious obedience in all the ways the diocese may need this to be embraced? Is one open to learning about ecclesial vocations and becoming more and more representative of such a calling or is one relatively closed to this learning? Does one have the humility necessary to embrace religious obedience healthily while rejecting a servile or obsequious devotion and dependence, or not? Can one teach effectively and humbly as well as learn from the bishop? Is one open to true discernment throughout one's ongoing formation as a hermit, particularly as one's legitimate superior (and his delegates) calls for and empowers this, and even when he does not?

Finally, regarding the Church, does the hermit or hermit candidate understand herself as embracing a vocation not just at the heart of the church, but a commitment to become a living incarnation of that heart? Is she deeply committed to the Church and her life in this world, and does she understand c 603 eremitical life as the way the Church normatively recognizes the hermit life truly lived in the heart of the Church? (By this I mean all three forms of eremitical life, non-canonical, consecrated solitary, and consecrated semi-eremitical forms of the life.) Is she deeply engaged in the Church's sacramental life and is she committed to representing the Church's perception of the eremitical life, not her own conceptions? Does she recognize the place of the Holy Spirit in sanctifying the Church here and now and does she recognize her own role in this? Does she accept the paradoxical public and hidden nature of the consecrated (canonical) eremitical vocation she is called to live in the Name of the Church while trusting in the Spirit that enlarges the heart sufficiently to comfortably embrace both sides of the paradox? In other words, does the hermit understand herself as Peter Damian did, that is, as an ecclesiola, who, in Christ, lives deeply and intimately in the very heart of the Church and as the very heart of the Church, or does she see eremitical life differently than this?

Why isn't it Enough. . .?? On Stricter Separation from the World (Reprise from 2008)

I received the following question via email: [[How does one determine one is called to an eremitical vocation? Why isn't it enough to be uncomfortable with the world or to desire to avoid it, and to wish to retire to solitude? Is this at least a sign of a genuine eremitical vocation?]]

In order to answer this (or at least the second part of the question, because I will need to answer the first part, the "how" question, separately), I want to first reprise what I wrote in an earlier post (cf., Post on January 14, 2008, The Unique Charism of the Diocesan Hermit) : [[One embraces eremitical silence, solitude, prayer, penance and greater separation from the world in order to spend one's life for others in this specific way. Whatever FIRST brings one to the desert (illness, loss, temperament, curiosity, a maturing need for the silence of solitude, etc) unless one learns to love God, oneself, and one's brothers and sisters genuinely and profoundly, and allows this to be the motivation for one's life, I don't think one has yet discerned, much less embraced, a call to diocesan (Canon 603) eremitism.

[[. . . let me say something here about the phrase "the world" in the above answers. Greater or stricter separation from the World implies physical separation, but not merely physical separation. Doesn't this conflict with what I said about the unique charism of the diocesan hermit? No, I don't think so. First of all, "the world" does NOT mean "the entire physical reality except for the hermitage or cell"! Instead, the term "the world" refers to those structures, realities, things, positions, values, etc which are antithetical to Christ and PROMISE FULFILLMENT or personal [dignity and] completion APART FROM GOD in Christ. Anything, including some forms of religion and piety can represent "the world" given this definition. "The world" tends to represent escape from self and God, and also escape from the deep demands and legitimate expectations others have a right to make of us as Christians. Given this understanding, some forms of "eremitism" may not represent so much greater separation from the world as they do unusually embodied capitulations to it. (Here is one of the places an individual can fool themselves and so, needs the assistance of the church to carry out an adequate and accurate discernment of a DIVINE vocation to eremitical life.)

reprise continues:

[[Not everything out in the physical world is "the World" hermits are called to greater separation from. Granted, physical separation from much of the physical world is an element of genuine solitude which makes discerning the difference easier. Still, I have seen non diocesan hermits who, in the name of "eremitical hiddenness" run from responsibilities, relationships, anything at all which could conceivably be called secular or even simply natural (as opposed to what is sometimes mistakenly called the supernatural). This is misguided, I believe, and is often more apt to point to the lack of an eremitical vocation at the present time than the presence of one.]]

The simple answer in light of what I have said before, then, is no, it is not nearly enough. We are speaking of a religious hermit --- one for whom the heart of her vocation is love, not only of God, but of all that God cherishes as well. I am interpreting your question to mean that avoidance of the world (in this case I mean the whole of reality outside the hermitage) is the dominating, even sole reason for embracing an eremitical life, that no other reason even comes close. Even if one finds oneself out of step with that world, determines she cannot fathom it, is misunderstood herself by it, and desires nothing more than to retreat from it, this is NOT the basis for an eremitical life, nor is it, all by itself, a sign of a genuine vocation. In fact, it is more likely a sign one is NOT called to such a vocation. This is especially true if one who is a novice to spirituality and eremitism takes one's sense of being out of step with the world, misunderstood by and unable to fathom it, as a sign one is radically different than it.

It is true because it neglects the simple fact that we are each and all of us part of the world, shaped and formed by it, and so, to greater and lesser extents, we carry it deeply in our own hearts, minds, and limbs. This is true whether one is speaking of the world as all of reality outside the hermitage, or "the world" in the strict monastic sense of "contemptus mundi" --- that which promises fulfillment apart from God. We carry the world within us in both senses, and of course, are called to love, transform and heal the world (in both senses) outside of the hermitage. In the negative or monastic sense of the term (that which promises fulfillment apart from God) we bring this to the hermitage in order to deal with it, to subject it to God's love and healing touch. We bring it to the hermitage not because we cannot understand it --- or it us, but because we understand it all too well and know that God's love is the only alternative to our own personal enmeshment in it. The dynamic you described is of a person running from this reality (and, in fact, from the whole of God's world), but the hermitage cannot be used to run FROM ONESELF, nor from God's good creation; it cannot be used as a place of escape but must instead be a place of confrontation and transformation, of love and healing.

To attempt to escape from the demands of the physical (spatio-temporal) world outside the "hermitage" is really to actually transform the "hermitage" into an outpost of what monasticism calls "the world." This is so because one of the signal qualities of "the world" and "worldliness" in the monastic sense is a refusal to face reality, which thus will also involve an inability to love it into wholeness. Therefore too, if the "hermitage" is merely or even mainly a refuge from all that one cannot face, understand, or deal adequately with, it has ceased to be a genuine hermitage in any Christian sense and instead is predicated on the very values of distraction, avoidance, escape, and inability to face forthrightly or love truly or deeply that which constitutes "the world". It is itself an instance of that very same world, an outpost of it and no true hermitage. To bring "the world" into the hermitage in this sense is far and away more dangerous and destructive than bringing in aspects of it openly and cautiously like TV, movies, news programs, computer, etc --- and we know how assiduously careful we must be about (and even generally resistant to) these latter inclusions!

There is a reason hermitages have been characterized as places of battle, as crucibles as well as oases of God's peace. Above all they are the places where, in the clear light of God's truth and love, one is asked to confront the demons one carries within oneself. Thomas Merton once wrote that the purpose of the hermitage was to allow a hermit to face the falseness, and distortions in oneself: "the first function of the hermitage is to relax and heal and to smooth out one's distortions and inhumanities." This is true, he says, because the mission of the solitary in the world is, "first the full recovery of man's natural and human measure." The hermit "reminds (others) of what is theirs to use if they can manage to extricate themselves from the web of myths and fixations which a highly artificial society has imposed on them." However, Merton knew all too well that the battle is waged inside the hermitage as well. One cannot witness to a world one refuses to understand as though one were really all that different from it. One cannot do so because one has not dealt with "the world" one carries deep within oneself, and which, in fact, one IS until one has been completely remade by God's love.

By the way, it is, of course, true that the hermit comes to love the solitude and silence of her hermitage, and she desires to be there, to go about her daily routine, to do all the small and large tasks and chores that come as part of the life there. A certain degree of discomfort with the world outside the hermitage will exist since she wants always to get back to the sacred space of silence and solitude which is her cell. However, and I cannot emphasize this enough, when she is outside the hermitage, she is completely capable of relating empathetically to others and so, understanding them and what drives them; she is able to delight in this world to the extent it is evidence of God's creativity and wonder, and to care deeply for it when it falls short of that glory. These people, places, and things are given her to love, to cherish in so far as they are God's own, and in so far as they possess the potential, no matter how yet-profoundly-unrealized, to mediate God's presence and love. This is a world the hermit knows to be very like herself in every way. Her vocation may be unique, but she is not. To the degree she is really a hermit she carries these persons, places, and things with her back to the hermitage to continue to love them, to pray for them, and also to let them love and shape her own life to the degree that is appropriate.

In NO WAY is the hermitage an escape from the world in this sense. It is the place from which the hermit lives to allow God's presence greater intensity and scope so that he might one day be "all in all" as the Pauline phrase goes. Again, this all gets back to what I said at the beginning: The basis for the eremitical life must be love; it cannot be escape. We are called to greater separation from the world only because love requires distance as well as closeness. But we embrace this separation in order that we may allow God's love full rein and scope, first in our own lives, and then, in the lives of all those others for whom we live.

Finding a Constructive Way Forward: An Invitation to Clarify Disputed Points --- with Addendum

  [[I do not make statements for the heck of it or without sound reason and facts, in addition to on-point metaphors. The one/s who try to negate or weigh in on what I share, with their gotcha-intentions, do a disservice to whomever reads their misinformation on this topic in particular. They lead people potentially to think of themselves in deceived ways, which may at some point embarrass themselves to others and blind them and keep themselves from seeking deeper forms of prayer; and thus, hinder themselves from becoming great contemplatives, their minds, hearts, and souls closer to His Real Presence, which is something we all should desire and of which I myself desire very much.]] Excerpt from Blog post  23 March.2022, (Catholic Christian Mystic Hermit blog)

Dear MC [name removed after receipt of email was acknowledged], I think then we are both trying to make well-grounded arguments or well-justified positions (rather than aggressive assertions) without [documented] reasons that can be evaluated by readers. Keeping that in mind I sincerely hope you will supply citations from David Knowles' book (What is Mysticism?) as well as something by Bernard McGinn, perhaps, and other experts to support your positions, especially regarding the following points where we seem to disagree so completely. (cf numbered items below.)  I am asking, in particular, that you provide an actual citation (at least the page numbers and chapter) from Knowles' work where he explains that mystics are born, not made (by God), and, if possible, that you define the term "mystic" as cogently as you can. That would also be genuinely helpful moving forward. 

Also, let me say directly that I think you profoundly misunderstand my positions and my posts on this subject if you believe I have suggested that mystical prayer itself is not a deeper form of contemplative prayer (specifically, mystical prayer = forms of infused contemplation), or that union with God, which is the very heart of mystical prayer, is not something every person is created for and called to even as it is a profound and immediate gift of God's very Self.  Please note that "immediate gift of God's very self" precludes one from believing one can achieve this on their own so I am certainly not misleading people into thinking they can become mystics on their own. 

If you believe that I am saying God can make people into mystics (ordinarily in conjunction with their long dedication to and practice of prayer) then you are correct. I am saying that God can do that, that he wills to do that, and that he does do it today as in other centuries. I sincerely ask that you review all that I have written and see what I have actually said. Especially, you should be aware that I teach that every person is called or invited to the heights/depths of contemplative prayer including even the prayer of union, and I always encourage folks to open themselves to experiencing the heights and depths of prayer they never imagined were open to them. I certainly have no intention of hindering  anyone from becoming great contemplatives and mystics.

The major points on which we apparently disagree are: 

1.  that mystics are born, and perhaps on what a mystic is then. 
2. that mysticism is an affliction (which is not precisely the same as saying it is a great grace that can involve intense suffering) and that it should not be celebrated much less desired, and, 
3. that the term mystical prayer is nonsensical rather than a richly meaningful term, as you asserted in your post of 23. March (cf provided link). 

For my part I have affirmed that:

1. mystics are not born, though every person is created for and called to some significant degree of union with God here in this life as well as after death. The notion that there is some sort of dialogue between God and a pre-existent soul where he asks them if they will be a mystic seems to me to be very bad theology and Christian anthropology both. Fortunately, Emmerich's ideas on this are not part of the Church's own teaching and we are not obliged to affirm them. 
2.  that mysticism is most fundamentally a very great grace, indeed the fulfillment of a life of grace (and so, of prayer) which can occasion intense suffering as well as profound joy and a peace in which even one's sufferings can be lived with real equanimity and even more than equanimity. While I appreciate your clarification of what you meant by calling mysticism (i.e., what a mystic practices) an "affliction", the fact that you claim mystics pray to be normal seems to me to support understanding the term "affliction" in the more questionable sense you are now distancing yourself from. Add to that the fact that you chose to use two actual neurological disorders in your comparison; this leads to the sense that "praying to be normal" doesn't mean simply desiring to be a bit more ordinary. It also seems to me to sever the connection between something being God's doing in our lives (always first of all a grace even if we are unable to perceive it readily) and I still find your comparison inapt. Maybe you simply chose badly and want to retract the comparison?
3. that the term mystical prayer is meaningful and is used by Prof Knowles in the book you yourself recommended the day before yesterday, and of course, by many others throughout the history of the Church and its reflection on "mystical theology".  
4. that certain secondary or accidental qualities (visions, locutions, levitation, reading souls, stigmata, etc., etc.) are not the essence of mysticism or the mystical life, and further that the theology of God as Absolute Mystery (not some reference to mystery cults) is the genuine source of the traditional sense of "mystical prayer", mystical path, and related terms within Roman Catholicism and Christianity more generally. We call prayer mystical precisely because it is caused immediately by and involves the pray-er in an immediate experience of the Absolute Mystery we know as God. Some writers contrast this with ascetical or acquired contemplation, which is about what one does with one's own heart and mind (raising one's heart or mind to God, for instance). I am not sure what your position is on any of this because as far as I am aware, you haven't provided a definition of a mystic.

Please consider this a sincere invitation and feel free to email me with any material you believe will be helpful to me or to readers of this blog in clarifying disputed points or points of misunderstanding. I will be happy to post any substantive response here and give you full credit and my gratitude for taking the time to do so. In the meantime, in the interests of mutual respect and transparency, I am emailing a copy of this invitation and clarification to you directly as well as posting it here. Thanks for your attention.

All my best.

Sister Laurel O'Neal, Er Dio

ADDENDUM:

MC was unable (i.e., she declined) to supply either the definition of mystic she uses, or the location in What is Mysticism? of Dom Knowles' position that mystics are born not made. Disappointing, but not a problem. I was able to glean a couple of things from her responses and blogs which differ from my own and traditional understandings which do not need to be detailed here except to note that she and I are talking about two different realities when we use the word mystic. Maybe more important was the fact that the invitation led to input from other sources which helped clarify David Knowles' position. (Dom Knowles was a British Benedictine Church Historian, so others who know and admire his work have supplied summaries of his positions.) Here is what I learned: 

1. Knowles does not say mystics are born rather than made. Like many, Knowles accepts infused contemplation/mystical prayer is a gift of God, not merely acquired by long work in prayer (though he clearly believes such prayer can dispose one towards receiving this greatest of gifts). It is sui generis and not induced by acts of the will, stands distinct from what is sometimes called "acquired contemplation" because it is infused as a gift of God, and finds its closest approximation in what is called the "prayer of simplicity". But in this Dom Knowles is restating the Carmelite positions of SS. Teresa and John of the Cross. Even so, he is not saying mystics are born.
2. Dom Knowles also considers markers or accidental qualities like visions and locutions, things to which, he contends, psychologists of religion give disproportionate attention, [[to be confined to the initial and immature stages of the mystical way.]] (Here he is speaking of "stages" falling short of full union with God. As he also pointed out however re Teresa of Avila, the saint refers to beginners in prayer as all those whose prayer falls short of complete union with God. In other words, that would include all of us up to and through the prayer of quiet so we should certainly not necessarily take the terms "immature" or "beginner" in common, much less pejorative, senses.) Again, Prof. Knowles seems to be in agreement with St Teresa and the general Carmelite tradition in such things. By the way, Dom Knowles also seems to be in agreement with the contemporary Ruth Burrows (Sister Miriam, OCD) regarding the place of mystical experiences in the life of grace/prayer.
3. The related terms mystical prayer, mystical path, and mystic are profoundly meaningful terms rather than being nonsensical for Knowles, Teresa, John of the Cross, Elizabeth of the Trinity, and the entire Carmelite family even when there are differences in labeling the dimensions of the life of grace/prayer which all find difficult to speak of. 

Just a note: I am working on a post which links this discussion with yesterday's consecration of Ukraine and Russia which Pope Francis requested and the way we observed it at daily liturgy in my parish yesterday. It also ties in profoundly to the role of contemplative prayer and/or the mystical path in achieving peace in our world and draws from my own prayer re the consecration and reading I have been doing about contemplative prayer/mysticism in Thomas Merton. 

For instance, it is absolutely fascinating to me how it is a mystic's infused contemplation takes them out of this world and out of any dependence on self to dependence on God alone precisely so they can live in this world, as a source of peace. The very thing that seems to make mystics/contemplatives stand apart and marks their experiences in prayer as incommunicable and uncommon, recreates and sends them back to "the world" as those who can encounter it as prophetic missionaries of peace and wholeness. It is the same dynamic which stands at the heart of eremitical life's "stricter separation from the world" and something I have been writing about for many years now. As a friend and colleague -- another diocesan hermit -- joyfully affirmed when, among other things, we spoke about Elizabeth of the Trinity, contemplation, and eremitical life, last week, [[It is all about encounter!!]] So, more about this in a bit (I hope!).

On Excommunicated Hermits and Stricter Separation from the World

[[Dear Sister Laurel, in 2020 you wrote about three hermits who had been excommunicated. In your article the reporter whose article you criticized said that the three were not trying to build bridges to the world but rather to escape from it, cf., Excommunicated Hermits. You also wrote recently that CICLSAL has produced a guidance document for c 603 hermits which says clearly that hermits are not fleeing the world and you used the word escapist. You said hermits are not escapist (cf., Purpose of Stricter Separation from the World.) I have always heard monastics speaking of fleeing the world or embracing something called "contemptus mundi" which I believe means contempt for the world. So, here's my question: do you see yourself and other c 603 hermits trying to build bridges to the world outside your hermitage? Don't you embrace a kind of "contemptus mundi" in separating yourself as you do? I want to suggest that those hermits of [in] Scotland had the right idea in fleeing from place to place. You would disagree, wouldn't you?]]

Thanks for your thoughtful questions. I have added links to the posts you refenced. I think I have answered a lot of what you ask about in the following post: Stricter Separation: Loving the World into Wholeness, so I would ask that you take a look at this post and especially, that you pay attention to the different ways the term "the world" can be used. We need to be clear that there are several different usages of the term and not confuse one for the other. For instance, the world the hermit separates herself from is not primarily the world of God's good creation; instead, it is a constellation [[of attitudes, values, perspectives, and priorities which live in a hermit's heart just as they live in the hearts of others]] and constitute a kind of widespread and typical pattern of vision and inner reality.  

In this view of things, because these patterns of values, perspectives, and attitudes are deeply inculcated within each of us, and because they are often-unconscious lenses through which we view reality, closing the hermitage door merely shuts one inside with "the world" one needs to separate oneself from more assiduously. Doing so can provide a false sense that one has done what one needs to do in "leaving the world" and this inaccurate sense may grow into or foster a kind of sense of spiritual superiority in the hermit. Additionally, it can lead to a self-centered spirituality focused merely on one's own perfection or salvation, rather than on a holiness which at every point, serves and is meant to serve the needs of a world often bereft of love and wholeness. Nothing could be more "worldly" in fact.

If you look at the behavior of the three Scottish "hermits" as outlined in the NCR article I wrote about (please note, there are other, entirely legitimate hermits in Scotland), what you find is distinctly "worldly" behavior. They have a habit of making themselves "unwelcome and getting in trouble". While supposedly more strictly separated from "the world" they engage in provocative acts of judgmentalism that are hurtful and meant to be so. While there is a legitimate prophetic or "truth-telling" dimension to eremitical life, this is not it. When their bishops (more than one apparently) have tried "numerous times" to break them up, they have resisted and eventually gotten themselves thrown out of the diocese(s). I have to tell you how rare such problems are with genuine hermits. An actual pattern of offensive and disedifying behavior in genuine hermits is even more rare. 

Other things strike me as "worldly" with regard to the three persons in the NCR article. Despite no longer having a right to wear a Capuchin habit, one of the hermits continues to do so and one wonders why. He is not witnessing to canonical eremitical standing nor an ecclesial vocation, nor to religious poverty or consecration by God --- and there are certainly poorer and simpler ways to dress. Why could he not let this go as he ought to have done when he left the congregation that extended this right to him? And then there is the glee, first at excommunication and then at the amounts of correspondence and financial aid flowing their way as a result!!! These "hermits" are not victims of the "mean old" institutional Church --- and yet they are excited to benefit from those seeing and treating them in this way! None of this sounds anything but profoundly "worldly" to me.

I am not sure I would describe my life as one of building bridges to the world around me, but I accept my responsibility to witness to that world, and also to "the world" I am to be more strictly separated from --- that constellation of attitudes, values, and perspectives which really distort the way we see and relate to God, ourselves, and God's good creation. One other element of c 603 is that this life is to be lived "for the salvation of others"; that requires engagement on behalf of God and his good creation even as it requires freedom from enmeshment in all that distorts it. There may be some tension between these two elements of the canon, but they certainly don't conflict. That is especially true as I understand that the really critical dimensions of my life, the dimensions that define me as a person and hermit, are hidden from others and that even to the extent my life is of witness value it is hidden in Christ. So, while I don't try to build bridges with the world around me in any focused or concerted way, and while there are very real and necessary limitations in my engagement with the world, that engagement is still very real and motivated by my life in Christ.

If the term "contemptus mundi" can be understood in terms of turning away from attitudes, values, and perspectives which are typical of contemporary life and serve to distort the way we see and behave toward God and God's good creation, then yes, I embrace it. In some ways I work hard to free myself from or allow myself to be healed of the woundedness which contributes to the personal and common lenses which so distort the way I/we see and relate to reality. I recognize that Christian life, and certainly eremitical life within that, is one of freedom from this kind of enmeshment. I definitely work hard to allow Christ to be primary in my life so that I can say with Paul, "I, yet not I but Christ in me. . .". Even so, "contemptus mundi" seems to me to invite misunderstanding as it is wrapped in several layers of mystifying language: a Semitic sense of the term hatred** (see below), now translated into Latin and combined with a Greek and Johannine term (mundi) with at least three significantly different senses in the Gospel writer's work. Besides the fact that c 603 does not use this phrase, I usually don't use it for this reason.

Finally, I have a strong appreciation for the Benedictine value (and vow) of stability. This means I appreciate that where I am (diocese, parish, hermitage) has all I need to grow in holiness, and I am committed to seeking God (letting God find and be present to me in all the ways God chooses to do that) here. Yes, there are good reasons sometimes to move elsewhere, but a pattern of frenetic mobility, especially if it is occasioned by getting oneself in trouble and making oneself unwelcome wherever one goes, is contrary to Benedictine stability (and several other Christian values as well)! The evolving world the Scottish trio of would-be hermits are trying to escape is the world they are called to witness to. Meanwhile, in their attitudes and values, for instance, they seem to be ever more deeply enmeshed in the world they should be more strictly separated from! A genuine hermitage in the midst of such a world is, like the Carthusian image, a still point in the midst of sin's roiling disorder. My own sense is that these three apparent misanthropes (it is hard to see what or who they actually love beyond themselves), to the extent they cannot embrace such a stability, are not seeking God, but are running from precisely the place in which he is surely to be found. I think the Incarnation tells us that.

I hope this is helpful!

** In the NT Semitism the idea of "hating," as in Luke 14:26, is a comparative term and has to be understood as "love less". When Luke says, [[If anyone comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters—yes, even their own life—such a person cannot be my disciple,]] he is saying a disciple must prefer Jesus to or love Jesus more than all these others. Perhaps an even better way to say it would be, [[You must love me first and best, and all else and all others only in and through your love for me.]] If we are given a choice, Jesus or our own life (and so forth), the choice must be for Jesus and the One who sent him. [[Seek ye first the Kingdom of God and all these. . .will be added unto you.]]

Purpose of Stricter Separation from the World

I have received an email asking a question I wrote about in 2011, so I am reposting this response here. I am hoping it leads to further questions, not least, those that will help to clarify the validity of stricter separation from "the world" in an eremitical life. I am thinking about a couple of sentences in a new document from CICLSAL re c 603 I believe this begins to address: [[The hermit who distances [herself] from the world does not flee out of fear or contempt. [She] lived in the world and is called, Christianly, to seek to love it and to look at it with the eyes and the love that God revealed to us in Jesus. . .one separates oneself from the world to save it, one moves away to integrate it. The exterior become interior, the distant becomes near, the excluded is desired included. This is why separating does not mean fleeing.]] par 24 The Hermit Life Form in the Particular Church. "Guidance" CICLSAL, 2022.

[Dear Sister, what is the purpose of "stricter separation from the world" in your life? You have mentioned it as an element of hermit life, but I really don't get it. The Sisters I know are deeply involved in this world and it seems to me it is what Christ was all about. Can you help me understand?]]

Great question! I have written a little about stricter separation from the world, especially what it does and doesn't mean, so I would invite you to check out labels leading to those articles for additional thoughts. But you are correct, I have not really written about the purpose of stricter separation, nor have I spoken explicitly about the validity of this approach in spirituality --- which does indeed seem rather different from Jesus' usual way of doing things. In fact, "stricter separation from the world" was not something I would have chosen myself without circumstances which led me to understand it differently than I did as a young Sister. As your own comment suggests, at first or second glance, it hardly seems to comport with a Christian perspective which honors the incarnation and the sanctity of all creation in Christ. For me it always sounded selfish and lacking in charity --- not to mention in generosity!

It is important to remember that separation from the world means first of all separation from that which is resistant or uncongenial to Christ, and that it involves detachment from that which promises fulfillment, meaning, and hope apart from him and the God he mediates. This sense of the term "world" refers to anything which is untrue, distorted, resistant to life, to love, and to all the rest of the values which constitute life in God. But it is not God's good creation, therefore, from which we mainly separate ourselves. It is "the world" of falsehood, chaos, and meaninglessness, and this means that it is not something distinct existing merely outside of ourselves, but instead a reality which is intimately related to the darkness, woundedness, distortions, and sclerosis (hardness) of our own hearts.

Keeping this in mind, there are several reasons then for embracing stricter separation from the world. The first is that such separation distances us from the constant reinforcement of values, behaviors, expectations, and so forth which bombard us otherwise. Consider all the things we each see every day that tell us who we are and must be --- despite the fact that almost none of them are consistent with the values of the Kingdom of God! The second reason has to do with allowing ourselves the space and time --- and the silence and solitude --- to meet ourselves without all the supports, props, and distractions of "the world." It is hard to see ourselves for who we really are otherwise. Once the props are down or removed, we come to experience our own poverty. When we are not measuring (and in fact CANNOT measure) success, integrity, fruitfulness, etc., according to the terms constituting, "the world" we come face to face with what we are really all about. So, the first part of stricter separation is all about reality checks. Conversion, after all, requires confrontation with truth.

The third and most fundamental reason for stricter separation from the world is to allow the space and time needed for a meeting with God. If our hearts (and so, our very selves) are, in part, darkened, distorted, sclerosed and untrue, they are also the place where God bears witness to himself and the truth of who we are. All the elements of the eremitical life, including stricter separation, are geared towards the meeting (and eventually, union) with God which verifies (makes true), heals, and brings to fullness of life. It is in this meeting that we learn how precious we are despite our very real human poverty, here that we learn how constant and secure God's love, here that we begin to have a sense of what we are really capable of and meant for. It is in this meeting with God that we come to know genuine freedom, come to experience an imperishable hope, and are commissioned to go out to others to summon them to something similar.

There is a fourth reason for stricter separation from the world then. We must step away from the distorted perspectives and values that constitute "the world" in order to love it better. We leave it in order to be made capable of affirming the deeper truth and beauty of the world around us. We come to know everything in God and that leads us to see with God's eyes. Hermits assume a marginal place so that they may also serve a prophetic function by speaking the truth in a way that affirms the world's deepest and truest reality. It will also summon to conversion. Stricter separation from "the world" allows us to love God's world into wholeness. It is a servant of true engagement and commitment. Stricter separation from "the world" is a tool for loving the whole of God's creation; it is neither escapist nor selfish and cannot be allowed to devolve into these. Abba Evagrius said it this way, [[The monk is someone who separates himself from all so that he can be united to all.]] Treatise on Prayer #124.

But why a LIFE of stricter separation from the world? Hermits witness to separation from the world as a basic dynamic assisting us to come to the freedom that results from being the person God makes us to be. The hermit reminds us again and again of the primacy of the foundational relationship that grounds our being, and of the task of individuation it summons us to achieve on a day-by-day basis for the whole of our lives. We are made for life with God and we are made for a life loving the whole of God's creation. That requires some separation from the world and the rejection of enmeshment with it. Hermits say this particularly clearly with their lives.

On the Beauty and Depth of Canon 603

[[Sister Laurel, I wondered why you write about canon 603 now, so many years after you have been professed. It sounds to me like you believe it is important to hermits even after they have been consecrated. I realize that the canon describes what is necessary to be admitted to canonical standing, and I get you might want to be writing for those interested in becoming diocesan hermits, but is there something more to it than that? Once you're admitted under a law, why concern yourself with the law? I wondered if you could explain that. By the way, your anniversary of profession is coming up isn't it? Congratulations!]]

Good to hear from you; it has been a while!! Interesting observations and question!  Yes, I continue to write about canon 603 for one particular reason; namely, as I have come to perceive it, it is not merely a canon allowing for admission to profession and consecration (as historically and ecclesially important as this is); instead, the canon prescribes a profound and often unimagined way of life constituted by the central elements named therein. Many mistakenly treat these elements as though their meaning is obvious and easily understood and lived. For instance, poverty, chastity, and obedience seem clear enough. So do "Stricter separation from the world", "assiduous prayer and penance" and "the silence of solitude". That one is required to write a Rule of life may seem a requirement anyone can easily accomplish, and dioceses routinely send folks off to do this without instructions or assistance -- fully expecting they will be able to succeed at the task, but this is not so easy really. 

Beneath the words of the canon in this element and in all the others, however, there are worlds the hermit is called and will need to explore, embrace, and embody if they are to truly be a canon 603 hermit. The canon supplies, in significant ways, the windows to these worlds. Because I petitioned to be admitted to profession under this canon and because the Church professed, consecrated, and commissioned me to do so, I am living and exploring this particular eremitical life; gradually I have come to know or at least glimpse the depths of the life prescribed by the canon --- even when I have not lived into them as fully as I am yet called to. 

 As a corollary, I have come to know many of the depths of the canon itself. I write about canon 603 now 14 years after perpetual profession and consecration because, from within this life, I continue to see new things in the canon --- things Diocesan bishops and Vicars for Religious (who often know very little about such a life or canon 603 itself) need to see, things candidates need to have a sense of as they approach mutual discernment and formation in this call, and things those professed under canon 603 are also committed to exploring. Especially, I continue to write about canon 603 because, from within this life, I have always perceived a beauty about it and the way it blends non-negotiable elements with the freedom and flexibility of a solitary life lived for the sake of others in response to the Holy Spirit. It both demands and allows for profound eremitical experience before profession and it both calls for and empowers even greater depth and breadth in living this life thereafter. You see, it is not just the single elements of the canon nor their apparently "obvious" meanings that are important -- though of course they are crucial. It is what is implicit and profound in them and in the fabric they weave together that is also critical to appreciating canon 603. 

This kind of appreciation is important not just for the hermit herself, but also for dioceses seeking to use the canon appropriately and for canonists whose tendency is to want to add additional requirements and legislative elements to the canon before admitting anyone to profession. More and more I have come to see that these added elements are unnecessary, not only because eremitical life itself doesn't need them, but because canon 603 itself does not. Of course, in coming to appreciate the beauty I referred to above, and the surprising adequacy or sufficiency of the canon, one must be open to seeing there what is more than superficial or even more than significantly explicit.

 Let me give you an example. The canon requires the solitary hermit to write her own Rule. However, it doesn't explicitly define the nature of the Rule and whether it will function as law, Gospel, law and Gospel (or Gospel and law); will it be primarily or wholly a list of do's and don'ts, limitations and permissions, or will it provide a vision of the life the hermit is committing to live with whatever that requires? Nor does c 603 explicitly require that it be a liveable Rule which may only come to be after the hermit has written at least several drafts. And yet both of these, rooted in the hermit's lived-experience and long-reflection, must be understood as called for by canon 603. Another example is the central element, "stricter separation from the world." What does it really mean? What does it call for from the hermit? I have written a lot about this element of the canon over the past decade and more, so I won't repeat all that here, but where in the canon does it speak of freedom from enmeshment with falsity, freedom for truth and honest engagement with and on behalf of God's good creation? These words are never used and yet, these are part, perhaps even the heart of what this element of ''stricter separation'' refers to.

Nor is it just a matter of getting under the superficial or common usage of the terms involved. One needs to begin to see the way they are related to one another and help in the weaving of a single reality. Both of the elements just noted, the requirement that the hermit write her own Rule and stricter separation from the world, demand the hermit engage in a process of growth and maturation in Christ specifically as a canon 603 or diocesan hermit. Moreover, the canon provides a vision of consecrated solitary eremitical life in the Church. Each element contributes to this vision, including those in both 603.1 and 603.2. At the same time, in service to the incarnation of this vision in an individual's life, canon 603 provides the means for a process of discernment and formation, both initial and ongoing, even though this process is not explicit in the text of the canon. 

The requirement that a hermit write a liveable Rule confronts everyone with the needs for adequate discernment and formation. But how is this achieved? Do we need more canons? Must we borrow from canonical norms established (wisely and appropriately) for other and less individual forms of religious life? Again, I find canon 603 beautiful and perhaps surprising in its sufficiency here: what is implicit in the requirement that the hermit write her own Rule is the fact that an adequate process of discernment and formation can be structured according to the hermit's growing abilities and capacities to write a liveable Rule of life that is true to canon 603's vision of solitary eremitical life.  Writing a liveable Rule of Life is not simply one element of the canon among others; it is the culmination of a process of reflection, prayer, study, and personal growth in Christ (and thus, in all the other elements of the canon) it itself guides and crystalizes. 

A hermit engaging in the writing of a liveable Rule will require accompaniment and assistance (a very small formation team, for instance), but the process envisioned here can be relatively simple and effective in guiding the diocese working with a candidate for profession, and certainly it is respectful of the freedom required by both the hermit and the Holy Spirit in shaping and deepening this specific vocation. Best, it grows organically from (or is implicit in) the requirements of canon 603 itself.

To return more directly to your questions. Canon 603 is certainly a norm by which the Church recognizes, governs, and thus perpetuates solitary consecrated hermits. It is associated with canonical (legal) rights and obligations which bind the hermit. It defines the nature of the diocesan hermit's life and so, provides the central elements which mark this definition. It is here, however, that canon 603 becomes something more than most canons because it is associated with a vision of the solitary eremitical life and a vision is not only about what is seen, but about the underlying mystery which grounds, inspires, and is to be manifested in the lives of those living under this canon. 

I believe that the authors of c 603 wrote something rich, perhaps richer than they knew. Canon 603 is a window opening onto Mystery; the mystery of eremitical life, of God and the way human beings are verified (made true) in communion with God, the mystery of the way even the most isolated life can be redeemed in solitude, and the mystery of the way even human and Divine solitude always imply community. Because all of this and more is true, because canon 603 is not a once-used now-essentially-irrelevant law (unless of course, one transgresses it!) but something far more, I continue to reflect on, pray with, and write about c 603.

Postscript: Yes, it's a big week for me. I mark my birthday on September 1st, and celebrate the anniversary of my perpetual profession under c 603, the next day, 2nd Sept. Thanks for asking!

On Stricter Separation from the World as a Call to Love the World into Wholeness (Reprise)

[[Sister Laurel, I was asked where the "stricter" in "stricter separation from the world," comes from in canon 603.  Does it mean stricter than cloistered communities, stricter than other religious, stricter than other forms of consecrated life generally? I also was thinking about the idea of "the world" in the phrase in the canon. Doesn't this involve a kind of judgment (judgmentalism) on the world around the hermit? Because I take seriously the admonition not to judge others I wonder if Jesus would have condemned such an approach to something God created and Jesus  made new through his death and resurrection. Can you speak to this? ]]

In my understanding, the reference to "stricter separation from the world" in canon 603 is an intensification of c 607.3. That section of canon 607 reads: "The public witness to be rendered by religious to Christ and to the Church entails a separation from the world proper to the character and purpose of each institute." [Emphasis added]  Generally speaking hermits living under c 603 are called and obliged to live a separation which is stricter than that of other religious. Hermit's vows (or other sacred bonds) will qualify their relationship with the world in terms of wealth, relationships, and power (poverty, chastity, and obedience) but will, in conjunction with their Rule of life and the other requirements of canon 603, do so even more strictly than those of other religious. In particular, the hermit's ministry or apostolate will be very different because in the main it is a matter of being sent into the hermitage in the ministry of prayer and not out in active ministry. I don't think it means more strictly than cloistered religious, however, because hermits are self-supporting and responsible for interfacing with her local, parish, and diocesan communities --- and even with the more extended support community I mentioned in a previous post.

I don't think the requirement regarding stricter separation from the world is a form of judgmentalism but it does require significant discernment on what, when, and how one will give one's heart to things -- first to God and then to all that is precious to God. Stricter separation from "the world" is meant to allow one to love and/or be loved by God in a way which leads to conversion and sanctification -- that is to authentic humanity -- and in light of that, to love all that God loves in a similar way. 

It is always important to remember, I think, that "the world" in canon 603 does not mean "everything outside the hermitage door" -- nor does it exclude dimensions of the hermitage itself as though "the world" is not present there as well. "The world" is a collection of attitudes, values, perspectives, and priorities which live in a hermit's heart just as they live in the hearts of others. Perhaps these have been more or less changed through the context of the silence of solitude and, more importantly, through assiduous prayer and penance, but they remain deeply inculcated and closing the hermitage door, especially when done while naively believing one has shut "the world" out, merely makes the hermitage an outpost of "the world".

As noted in earlier posts, The Handbook on Canons 573-746, notes that "the world" refers to "that which is not redeemed or open to the salvific action of Christ". I have added other dimensions to this definition: 'anything which promises fulfillment apart from Christ," for instance. Thomas Merton  warns against hypostasizing "the world" and sees it in terms of illusion which should be unmasked; it is that which has become a lie and which needs to be seen for what it is.** (see below) We do that when we see all of reality with the eyes of God, and that means seeing all of reality with the eyes of love, just as I noted in my homily for the Solemnity of Ascension.  What it does not mean is God's good creation generally. For that reason, the hermit does not reject the world outside the hermitage, nor even that which is antithetical to Christ. Instead her silence and solitude (i.e., her life with and in God) allows her to see things as they are and to help love them into wholeness. Stricter separation from the world is done for the sake of the hermit's capacity to see clearly and to love truly and deeply. This includes learning to see herself clearly and learning to love herself rightly and profoundly. 

So again, no, I don't think stricter separation from the world represents a form of judgmentalism any more than a physician's diagnosis in order to treat a disorder represents a form of judgmentalism. For the hermit, stricter separation from the world, means disentangling ourselves from all kinds of forms of enmeshment so we may see properly and love profoundly into wholeness. This is what I meant when I said it required significant discernment on what, how, and when we would give our hearts to things. I hope this is clear. So much spiritual writing treats "the world" as anything outside the hermitage, convent, or monastery doors or walls. But this is just careless and dangerous thinking. It neglects the very real dimensions of the human heart which are worldly and on which one cannot simply shut the hermitage door; it also neglects the Great Commandment of love and the profound relationship a hermit (for instance) must have with the world around the hermitage, especially in the silence of solitude -- as paradoxical as that sounds.

I agree with you that Jesus would condemn many writings that speak of "the world" as though it is a distinct objective thing outside a religious house. Especially I agree that Jesus would condemn any way of seeing God's good creation which ignores the victory of the cross over sin and death and over the powers and principalities of this world. We are challenged every day not to ignore "the world" but to see it clearly, to transform it with love, and thereby to eventually win its allegiance to Christ -- even if that allegiance is anonymous. Love provides the kind of unmasking which humbles without humiliating; it raises reality to its true dignity, and it allows the deep meaning possessed by reality to come through without idolizing this world or dimensions of it. It provides the lens through which we can see things truly and value them rightly. I think Jesus saw reality in this way and we who profess that we are in and of him, must be able to demonstrate that we have the capacity to see reality in the same way. 

Hermits separate ourselves more strictly from the larger world in order to cultivate this way of seeing, this way of loving. We do it so that we can be remade into a dimension of the heart of the Church; where others who share in the love of God in Christ are meant to be Jesus' hands and feet, hermits stand hidden and yet present as a representation of Jesus' own sacred heart. Once we think of ourselves in this way, stricter separation from the world will never again mean a sterile, much less judgmental, disengagement from the world. Instead it will be a new and paradoxical way of being engaged so the world may truly be and become all God calls it to be. Stricter separation from "the world" is about love for the world of God's great and creative goodness; it is not about "contemptus mundi" except to the degree we reject the ways the world itself has been falsified by human idolatry. It is this falsification (and the distorted human heart that created it) that must be unmasked, and this, it seems to me (and to Thomas Merton, I think) is the work of the hermit and her hermitage. 

** And for anyone who has seriously entered into the medieval Christian. . . conception of contemptus mundi [hatred for or of the world],. . .it will be evident that this means not the rejection of a reality, but the unmasking of an illusion. The world as pure object is not there. it is not a reality outside us for which we exist. . . It is only in assuming full responsibility for our world, for our lives, and for ourselves that we can be said to live really for God." Thomas Merton, Contemplation in a World of Action.