A Little about "Friending", Friendships, and Eremitical Custody of the Cell

[[Sister Laurel, do you have friends? Did you have to leave friends in order to become a hermit? How do you maintain friendships and embrace stricter separation from the world? Is it difficult to maintain balance in this?]]

Really excellent questions, especially the timing of them. If you remember, Friday's readings included one from Sirach which gave lots of sage advice on friendship. I was reflecting on the day's readings the evening before and I realized that in many ways friendships work the same as stricter separation from the world. That is, they provide a privileged, even holy, space where we can 1) be ourselves without the distorting lenses and props of "the world," 2) see ourselves as we are, and even 3) come to meet God. So, on Friday I shared some of my reflections at a communion service. One thing I noted was that genuine friendship involves a mutual commitment to the truth and life of the other (and to oneself). I also spoke a little about the vast difference between Facebook's new verb, "friending" and the reality of genuinely befriending or being a friend. What Sirach said several thousand years ago is true today: "let your acquaintances be many, but one in a thousand your confidant." Tragically, it seems that a lot of people don't know the difference between acquaintances and friends while others trivialize one of the greatest treasures in life --- true friends --- in other ways.

But, your questions were about my own life and friendships, especially as these relate to stricter separation from the world. So, to answer those, yes, I have friends, some very good ones in fact, and a number of others as well. I have Sister friends, friends from orchestra and music more generally, friends from the parish and town, several quite good ones from online (yes we have met in person), and friends from school (elementary through graduate school).

I did not have to leave friends in order to become a hermit, but partly that was because chronic illness had already caused a significant rupture in my ability to maintain relationships as I would have liked --- at least, that is, in terms of making just hanging out or regular (and predictable) contact really possible. It is the case, however, that hermits cannot simply call friends whenever they want, or just drop things to go out, nor even allow friends to drop in at any time --- or even very frequently (eremitical hospitality is a very high value even so and is in tension here). Beyond this there will be parts of the hermitage which are essentially or functionally cloistered. Hence, even without the effects of chronic illness, there will be a rupture in relationships (or at least the way these are lived out and maintained)! 

This is something that aspirants for Canon 603 profession don't always realize, and as a result, they spend time trying to build in (physical) solitude, (external) silence, and stricter separation from "worldly things" (whatever this means!) while maintaining life as it generally was prior to this. So, you are correct in inferring and implying in your questions that embracing eremitical life entails a real and substantial break with one's old life --- a break in which relationships will not remain unaffected. However, it is also true that friendships are important for human wholeness and I (and, I suspect, all hermits) try to keep in touch as is possible and healthy for their own eremitical lives. One technological advance that works well for me is the use of email; because of this friends can write when they want and allow me to get back to them when I can --- all without the ringing of phones, meshing of schedules, etc.

I suspect that a piece of your question about maintaining my balance is related to the idea that what is outside the hermitage is "the world" while that which is inside the hermitage is sacred. But this is emphatically not a healthy or effective way to approach the matter. It is not even accurate since the hermitage is very much a place where the hermit does battle with the world inside her own heart and mind. (This was a very large part of the what battling with demons was all about for the desert Fathers and Mothers.) Sometimes then, trips outside the hermitage are actually necessary because a part of my own heart (my personal center) is also "the world" and resistant to Christ. 

It is true that solitary prayer and lectio help a lot with the conversion of this dimension of my life, but so too do meetings and time with others. After all, it is possible to remain in the hermitage and, in the process, begin to lose sight of the concrete forms of growth one really needs to achieve. In fulltime solitude, one can mistakenly begin to justify a completely self-centered private project in superficial or inauthentic piety. Humility, for instance, can become a contrived and self-absorbed project. Achieving sainthood or citizenship in heaven and dismissing the world of space and time (rather than cooperating with God's work to make heaven (defined as life with and in God) interpenetrate this awesome creation), can become something similar.

On the other hand, a challenging (though loving) conversation with a friend, or an uncomfortable confrontation with another musician can point up one's self-absorption and pettiness in short order. The basic Christian requirement that we love another person concretely can unmask all pretensions to having grown significantly in the love of God or true holiness. Eremitical life has always been criticized for its lack of opportunities to love one's brothers and sisters in concrete ways. This is a criticism which MUST be taken seriously in one way and another. The bottom line for discernment is always what is the Spirit of wholeness and true charity summoning me to at this point? Mainly the answer will be, "to dwell in my cell where I learn "everything" I need to know," but some of the time the answer will be, "to spend time with my friends, peers, and acquaintances, so that I might learn to love all the better and share (the fruits of) this great journey with them in the way God wills."

Maintaining balance is not so hard once one realizes that one cannot simply continue as one once did. Penance (and the other essential elements of eremitical life) will likely mean giving up aspects of friendship one enjoyed (hanging around together, for instance, or being able to call someone most any time), and it will assuredly mean a commitment to custody of the cell as primary and foundational context of one's life. But once that is defined and maintained in a way which is integral and fundamentally life-giving, time and space for friendship can (and will actually need to) be worked out as well.

I hope this helps. As always, please get back to me with further questions or needs for clarification.

Purpose of Stricter Separation From the World

[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, 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, however, 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 which constitute "the world" in order to affirm 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 into a situation in a way which affirms its 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.

Now, I suspect that your only objection to any of this would be, "But why a LIFE of stricter separation from the world?" Hermits witness to this basic dynamic and the need for the freedom that results from being the person God makes us to be. The hermit reminds us again and again then of the foundational relationship that grounds our being, and of the task of individuation it summons us to achieve. We are made for life with God. Separation from the world contributes to this in the life of every person at the same time it rejects enmeshment, and hermits say this particularly clearly with their lives.

I hope this helps. It doesn't answer every aspect but it is a beginning. Thanks again for a really great and challenging question. I enjoyed working on it!

Podcasts, Dialogue, Affirmation of the Mystery at the Heart of the World and Contemplative Life

[[Dear Sister, thank you for doing the podcast on A Nun's Life. It was really interesting and surprising in some ways. I had not realized that hermit life was "communal" at its very heart, and the whole idea of chronic illness as vocation was new to me. I also had not realized that hermits could do podcasts!!! I guess I did have the idea that hermits still live in the [modern] equivalent of caves. I wonder if you aren't concerned that people will think doing the podcast conflicts with the eremitical vocation or that you are giving scandal? Also, do other hermits agree with your description of the life as fundamentally communal or "dialogical"?]] (Redacted)

Good questions, and thanks very much for your comments. The experience of doing the podcast was an excellent one for me personally: exhilarating, challenging, a bit taxing physically and mentally, encouraging and inspiring (especially given the responses on chronic illness as vocation!), and just generally good fun! One thing I was especially grateful I was not aware of until afterward, however, was the number of people who tuned in to listen or participated from the chat room. There were almost 450 people participating in one way and another during the hour and I was terrified enough as we began the program!! I came away with tremendous respect for what Sisters Julie and Maxine are doing and how hard they work at it, as well as greater appreciation for their congregation's support for this ministry. As far as I can see, A Nun's Life is of tremendous benefit to the Church and to vocations of all sorts, so the chance to participate in it in some way was very cool --- and a real honor.

I think if I were doing podcasts every week (or every month, for instance) people would have a reason to complain or question. But this was an unusual event and, I sincerely hope, useful in serving the eremitical vocation and also those with chronic illness (or who are otherwise marginalized) who might never consider that their own illness (etc) can be the medium through which the Gospel can be proclaimed to the world with a clarity and concreteness few can match. However, I am not concerned so much with what others think so long as they are clear that this is one of those forms of ministry which result from the silence of solitude and lead back to it as well. It is exceptional but consistent with both the Canon that governs my life, the Rule I live by, as well as the Camaldolese Benedictine charism. It is also consistent with expressions of the eremitical and anchoritic life as found and embodied throughout history. Hermits and anchorites have always been sought out for the wisdom their very marginality witnesses to and helps foster.

Of course, as a hermit, it is important that my own life be defined not primarily by these exceptional instances, but by the essential elements stated in Canon 603: the silence of solitude, assiduous prayer and penance, stricter separation from the world (that which is resistant to Christ and includes the world which lives in one's own heart--- those various soils which stifle or resulting flora which choke the Word of God within and without us!). Even so another essential element of consecrated eremitical life (and any eremitical life, I think!) is that it is lived for the salvation of the world. One embraces this responsibility in a number of ways --- not least in living stricter separation, the silence of solitude and assiduous prayer and penance in the heart of the church so that one's life serves as a kind of leaven and witness to a dimension of mystery at the heart of everything --- but also, in opening up the fruit of these elements to others.

You may have read blog posts that argue a kind of mutually exclusive dichotomy between the temporal Catholic World and the Mystical Catholic World. These posts have argued that a hermit must choose either the temporal OR the mystical Catholic Worlds. I have argued that this stance is theological and spiritual nonsense. The reason I have objected is because Christ, undoubtedly a mystic whose entire life was motivated by the reality of his union with God, was also deeply committed to the temporal world. In fact he could not be a mystic without such a commitment --- and vice versa as well! Heaven (life wholly in union with God) and earth are not supposed to be antithetical realities. Christ came to reconcile them and to implicate heaven within the earthly so that it completely interpenetrates the world of space and time. As I have written before, the result will be what Paul refers to as "A new heaven and earth" where "God is all in all". What mystics affirm is the dimension of mystery which grounds and is meant to permeate all of the temporal world. The affirmation is made for the sake of God's own life and the world of space and time --- God's good creation --- not in rejection of either of these.

Something similar is true of the hermit life, but with an accent on solitude and the dynamic of human poverty and divine grace which defines it. We are not to despise or reject the temporal world in the name of some separate and antithetical mystical world. Instead we commit ourselves to the redemption of all of that reality in God from the perspective of our solitude. Cornelius Wencel, Er Cam, writes: " The hermit does not meet eternity in the way gnostics are tempted to meet it. He does not reject what is temporal. He has his share of eternity by raising all earthly things up to their ultimate fullness by virtue of Christ's redemptive love."

In a section entitled, "Living in Dialogue" Wencel also notes, "The seclusion and solitude that constitute the eremitic life do not aim at negating the fundamental dynamism of human existence, with its entering into dialogue and relationships. On the contrary, eremitic isolation and solitude form the basis of that dynamism. . . . As mentioned before, the hermit's solitude can never be a sign of withdrawal and isolation from the world [used in a different sense than the term "world" in Canon 603] and its affairs. The hermit, since he wants to serve other people, must arrive at a profound understanding of his own nature and his relation to God. That is why his solitude is not at all a barrier, but it is rather an element that encourages openness towards others. . . .His solitude is not therefore a lifeless emptiness . . . it is related to those spheres of human personality that can exist only if they are open to meet God and the world in love." (The Eremitic Life, Encountering God in Silence and Solitude, Cornelius Wencel, Er Cam)

All of this is an expansion of, or variation on, one of the first things I mentioned on the podcast, namely we are each grounded in God and as we grow in union with God, so too do we grow in communion with all else that is grounded in him, all that he holds as precious. Hermits and other contemplatives (and certainly all genuine mystics) know this truth intimately.

Which of You Would Not? The Parable of the Woman and the Lost Coin

>


Today's Gospel is one of those which causes ambivalence for me on several levels. In Luke 15:1-10 Jesus is faced by Pharisees who grumble because Jesus eats with sinners and tax collectors. They have a point. How, they ask, are we to maintain the purity or integrity of the People of God if we allow the unclean or active sinners to join in our table fellowship? The Pharisees have their eyes on one version of "the big picture" and their approach to reality is a defensive one. Preserve the larger reality even if it means that individuals are treated as expendable or less precious. This is classic pragmatism, the greatest good for the greatest number!

Luke's own community is facing some of the same issues. Persecutions have led to defections and the nascent Church needs to determine how they will treat these people who, after all, are members of their own families and friends. How will Luke's communities be Church in such a situation? How should they feel about and act towards those who have betrayed them and Christ? In some ways we tend to face the same questions even today. Consider Eucharist. We wish to prevent defilement of the Eucharist and have it witness to unity, both completely appropriate concerns, and so, we do not allow certain people to receive the Sacrament even if they desire it, even if they wish to participate as fully as possible in our table fellowship. If Paul's language from the first reading was applied here, this whole approach to reality, this way of seeing the "big picture" would be called "the flesh". In monastic life it is called "worldly." In everyday parlance we call it "common sense" or being practical or reasonable.

Answering Jesus' Question: The Old Big Picture

It is into this situation that Jesus tells several parables about the lost. Each is effectively prefaced or bracketed by the rhetorical question "Which of you would not?" We know what the answer SHOULD be, the answer Jesus believes is natural, the answer which makes Jesus' question rhetorical. This answer commits us to extravagant and even apparently imprudent actions on behalf of the lost. But how often do we really answer the question honestly (if of course we pause to truly answer it at all)? Consider the situation: if Jesus said, There are 100 sheep in the desert, all in danger of wandering off, dying of thirst, starving or being set upon by predators without their shepherd. One wanders away. Which of you would NOT go after it for as long as it takes and at whatever cost?" How many of us would enthusiastically wave our hands in affirmation that indeed we would act just that way? I suspect if we were to lose such a sheep we would be more inclined to write it off as expendable, part of the acceptable risk of doing business in a dangerous world, a sad but sustainable loss.

And if Jesus were to say to us, "A woman lost one of ten similar and ordinary coins. She was frantic to find it it was so precious to her. She swept the whole house, lit all the lights, turned over the furniture, and when she found it she threw a huge party for family and friends. Which of you would not do similarly?" How many of us could really say we would naturally feel or act as she did? Granted, we might look as hard as we could for a while, but throwing a huge and expensive party when it is found? How likely would THAT be? How foolish would THAT look? So, when Jesus says, "which of you would not?" it is more likely most of us would have to raise our hands to say, "Not me!" than would nod in happy agreement with him. Most of the time we live in a world of different values than this, the world of common sense, expendable goods, and sustainable loss. Our hearts and minds are not really geared in the same way Jesus' are. We don't see or evaluate things in quite the same way usually. Again, as Paul puts it, ours is ordinarily the perspective of the flesh not of the spirit.

So Jesus, consummate psychologist that he is, tells us these parables to disorient us and shake us loose enough from our usual way of seeing, thinking and feeling to allow us to choose another way. He seeks to inspire a change in our minds and hearts, to convince us that this is the way GOD approaches the smallest bit of reality, and certainly, he seeks to help us feel the urgency and pathos the loss of a single person to sin is to God. He wants us to know a God who searches for us with great urgency because we are never expendable to him, never a "sustainable loss." But something is missing for contemporary readers in these parables because they really do not compel in the the way they compelled Jesus' hearers. (Here is another source of my ambivalence.) And I think the parable of the woman with the lost coin is the key to renewed hearing.

The Significance of the Lost Coin

Most commentators focus on the fact that the coin might have been a drachma or a denarius. In either case it would have equaled a day's wages or a bit more. Thus, its worth is established: large but not inestimable. But there is another way of reading this parable -- far more challenging and also more inspiring. Consider that when a woman was married she was ordinarily given a gift of a headdress into which was woven or sewn 10 coins. The headdress with the coins (usually a gift of her father) was to be worn in public at all times and was a symbol of the woman's faithfulness to her husband and marriage, to her people, and to the covenant and God Himself. Should a coin be lost, her husband had the right to conclude she had been unfaithful. Should she actually be unfaithful, her husband could remove a coin and send her out to public shame and disgrace. What was at stake here was not simply a day's wages, but the honor of Israel, the integrity of the covenant, and of course, the woman's very life itself! Consider her search for the coin then in this light! Can we feel the pathos? Are we convinced of the value of what has been lost? Does the urgency of what is at risk clutch at our stomachs and our hearts? Do we feel a compassion and desire to help her in her search, or, if the coin is found, to rejoice with her and help her throw a party the likes of which the neighborhood has not seen? If so, Jesus' parable has done the larger part of its job.

Moved to a New Answer? The New Big Picture

If so, we know a little of what God feels and wishes us to feel in regard to the meanest sinner. Not least, we know a fraction of what God feels in our own regard and for nothing we have done, created, achieved, etc. Simply because he is God and we are his own. If so, we have, at least briefly, felt and seen as the Spirit inspires us to see and feel. The worldly calculus of expendable goods and sustainable losses has been short circuited for the moment and we have adopted the world view of Christ. This single sinner, this meanest person is not just a coin, an expendable fraction of the whole, any longer. S/he is a symbol of God's completely gratuitous love and sovereignty, his unceasing faithfulness and stewardship, his very nature as God --- and s/he is a symbol of our share in all of that and how well we assume these things in our own lives.

Discipleship is about allowing God to BE God in time and space. It is about mediating God's own presence into those places of sin and death human beings choose to take into themselves where God cannot go by simple fiat. It is about making God present where he wills to be present. It is about protecting HIS INTEGRITY as it is experienced by others because he has entrusted a part in that to us. As Paul tells us in the first lection, we ARE the Circumcision; we ARE the covenant. What affects us affects God and vice versa. This means accepting a very different BIG picture than that of the Pharisees, or than which tempted Luke's community. It means accepting the non-commonsense view that we preserve the church, the very Body of Christ, by seeking out and treating as infinitely precious and God's own each individual life, not by focusing on the 99 who are relatively safe. So, let us consider how well God loves us; consider the woman with the lost coin and the urgency of her quest. Consider our own approach to table fellowship (i.e., to life) with the lost. How now do we answer Jesus' question, "Which of you would not. . .?"

Confusions regarding the notions of "Catholic Hermit", "Temporal vs Mystical Catholic Worlds," etc.

Please note, this article is not meant to answer the simple question about what a Catholic or diocesan hermit is. If you are looking for that kind of post, please see Notes From Stillsong Hermitage, What is a Diocesan Hermit?. The following article is concerned more with the misuse of the term Catholic hermit in contrast to the sense in which the Church uses the term.


Sister, could you please comment on the marked passage? I am confused by some terms, like "temporal Catholic world", but also by the reference to a canonist who seemingly should not be trusted in some of her comments, especially re the definition of "Catholic hermit." Thanks.

[[This was in reaction to being told of some person who may or may not have a canon law degree writing online that hermits who are not canonically approved are not to refer that they are Catholic hermits, for that implies they are canonically approved. Also, such hermits should not have confessors to guide them.... So, we have here an example of someone out in the blogosphere interpreting canon law using personal augmentation and opinion. The reality of a statement of fact can be twisted any which way, but fact is fact. What another wants to think depends upon that others' frame of reference. To be a Catholic hermit means just that: Catholic and hermit. It does not imply or infer the status in the temporal Catholic world known as canonical approval or disapproval. Also, there is nothing in Canon law that states a Catholic hermit ought not be guided or supervised by his or her confessor. Ask a priest canon lawyer.]] (Emphasis added)

Yes, I have actually recently read this very passage even apart from your question, and I also know (as a superficial online acquaintance only) the Canonist who is being maligned and deemed mistaken. She has written that the term "Catholic hermit" necessarily implies canonical status or standing, and I completely agree. I have referenced her comments a number of months back, so you can look for those too if you care to. (The poster who wrote the above passage is correct about frame of reference being important. This person I have cited previously is a canon lawyer who specializes in consecrated life, so she is well-qualified here. She works in and for the Church in this capacity, and her blog is an instance of authoritative information.) But let's look at this now.

On the term Catholic Hermit

If a man says "I am a Catholic priest" does he merely mean, "I am a Catholic and a priest by virtue of baptism into the priesthood of all believers?" No, certainly not, at least not if he means what the Church herself means by this. Does he mean "I function as a priest in the private sector with my minister's web license and am a Catholic, so therefore, I am a Catholic priest? Again, no, of course not. Does he even mean, "I was an Anglican priest, but have since become Roman Catholic; I have not been ordained in the Catholic church, but I am a priest forever, and therefore I am a Catholic priest"? No. Similarly, if a lay woman says she is a Catholic nun, does she mean she is Catholic, dresses simply, is cautious in her spending habits, and prays regularly? Again, not if she means what the church means by these terms.

We could extend these examples further, and perhaps gain greater clarity too: a policeman who resides but does not work in or for the City of Las Vegas is not a Las Vegas police officer according to normal usage, for instance; a platonic friend who is a boy is not a Boy Friend (though young people do play games with language to taunt their parents in this regard!), but the bottom line is the same: The terms Catholic priest, Catholic nun, or Catholic hermit mean that the people so identifying themselves are these things (as the church herself defines them!) through the authority and mediation of the Catholic Church. They mean they undertake and represent these states of life or vocations in the name of the Church who authorizes this, and not in their own names. It means they represent ECCLESIAL vocations in the way I have explained in the past (please see tags below).

The church herself has raised the publicly vowed eremitical vocation to the consecrated state and public standing in law, and because she has, a Catholic hermit is not simply a "hermit" (in the common sense of the term) who is Catholic. (To be very blunt, if that were the case, and were he Catholic, Theodore Kasczynski (the "hermit" Unabomber) could have called himself a Catholic hermit; so could any curmudgeonly loner, misanthrope, or agoraphobic living alone, for instance, so long as they were baptized Catholic). A Catholic hermit, on the other hand, is one whose vocation is discerned and mediated by the Catholic Church in whose name and in direct and real responsibility to whom the hermit lives her life. Both terms, "Catholic" and "hermit," are important and qualify one another. Not just any form of solitary living is authentically eremitical despite the common sense of this term (cf Kasczynski or the misanthrope again). Similarly then, not every form of genuinely eremitical life is Catholic in the normative sense of that term; that is, not every genuine eremitical life is undertaken with the authority and in the name of the Catholic Church. In this matter the Church recognizes certain individuals as publicly representing the vocation, and she grants both commensurate rights and obligations along with the title Sister or Brother to these. The RIGHT to call oneself a Catholic hermit is implicitly granted by the Church in a definitive liturgical act (". . .be faithful to the ministry the church entrusts to you to be carried out in her name"); it is not and cannot be assumed by the individual on her own authority.

Similarly, if the term "Catholic hermit" is used by someone to describe herself, others have have every right to infer that the person has the official standing to act and style herself thusly in the name of the Church. The rights and obligations of the Catholic hermit do not stop at the hermitage door, nor do they fail to impact others. The vocation of the Catholic hermit, hidden though it may be, is still a public vocation. Again, rights have correlative responsibilities and the designation "Catholic hermit" comes with both. Misuse of the label opens the way to misrepresentation of all kinds simply because one who is not canonical may not understand, appreciate, or even care about the commensurate obligations that come with profession and consecration as a Catholic hermit, much less feel bound to exercise them. Accountability, formal, legitimate, and real is associated with the term Catholic Hermit.

The Canonist referenced in these comments has merely pointed out the normative Catholic meaning of such terms, and in this I believe she is completely correct. She has twisted nothing and her credentials are not in question. Neither, as far as I can tell, is she merely offering personal opinion here; she speaks as a Catholic canonist!

Note: after I wrote this article I discovered Canon 216. It says the following: [[All the Christian Faithful, since they participate in the mission of the Church, have the right to promote or sustain apostolic activity by their own undertakings in accord with each one's state and condition; however, no undertaking shall assume the name Catholic unless the consent of a competent ecclesiastical authority is given.]] Thus, the prohibition is present in black and white. The argument that one need merely be Catholic and a (lay) hermit to call oneself a "Catholic hermit" is specious. The same is true of a religious community and the term Catholic. One must be using the term in the way the Church herself does, and be doing so with the authority of the Church, otherwise the usage is illegitimate at best. See also Canon 300 which applies to groups: No association shall assume the name "Catholic" without the consent of ecclesiastical authority in accord with the norm of C 312

Can Hermits be Guided by Confessors?

As for the issue of not being guided by a confessor, you didn't ask about this explicitly, but it is included in the passage and is one of the things the canonist was said to be wrong about so I will address it here: I believe the author of the passage you asked about is referring to the same entry on eremitical life by the referenced canonist, but has completely misread or miscontrued what she said. What was affirmed was that a hermit's spiritual director ought not to also be her superior. Here is the accurate passage, at least from the same entry on hermits: [[. . .Normally, it is best if the superior is not his [the hermit's] spiritual director unless exceptional circumstances call for it and if the extent of the obedience owed is clearly spelled out in the hermit’s rule of life. Otherwise, the private hermit should not make a vow of obedience but should content himself with the vows of poverty and chastity. The vow of obedience more properly belongs to the applicable canonical forms of consecrated life, not to private individuals who are not living in community or under hierarchical authority.]] Despite it not sounding like the correct passage (it does not mention confessors), as far as I know, this is the only reference to hermits in which the same author refers in wisely cautionary terms to specific arrangements re spiritual directors as superiors, but in no way does this suggest a spiritual director should not guide a hermit. Quite the opposite, in fact, is presupposed.

Temporal vs Mystical Catholic Worlds

The term Temporal Catholic World (and its implied "opposite," Mystical Catholic World) can indeed be confusing. It is a neologism of sorts, so is somewhat idiosyncratic and eccentric. In some senses I find it theologically objectionable because in the passages I read at least, it is counterposed with the phrase Mystical Catholic World and the two tend to be played off against one another as though they are completely distinct and oppositional. [The marked passage above does not refer explicitly to "mystical Catholic world" but others did.] But for the Christian this cannot be claimed to be true without emptying the Incarnation of meaning. Is there any question that Jesus was a mystic? No. So was Paul, but neither of these played off the temporal world against the so-called mystical world. Neither rejected one in the name of embracing the other. In fact, Jesus' entire role as mediator is a matter of making sure these two dimensions of the one world interpenetrate one another in a more and more definitive way.

A Catholic is called to live in this world of space and time. She is called to live out her faith in Christ in a world which is yet incompletely redeemed, and in this way to be in it even if not "of it". She is called to understand that with Christ the separation between sacred and profane has been broken down, the veil rent in two. S/he may be called to be a mystic, and yet, his/her contemplative life can spill over into ministry other than prayer. It MUST spill over into love of others! Those who are truly contemplatives or authentic hermits know this phenomenon well. Does it require care in making sure the active ministry one undertakes is the fruit of contemplative life? Yes, absolutely. Should active ministry always be undegirded by and lead back to prayer? Again, absolutely. But union with God necessarily leads to love of others in unmistakable and concrete ways, and therefore quite often to more direct or active ministry, how ever that is worked out by the individual.

It is true that there is a rare vocation to actual reclusion, but recluses are also in communion with the church and larger world -- in some ways to a greater extent than most people. Their reclusion is actually a paradoxical way of assuming responsibility for (and in) "the world", both within and without the recluse's own self. Remember that prayer links us in God to all others (we all share the same Ground of Being and Meaning), and that love of God issues in love of others, a concrete love, not love as an abstraction or pious parody of itself. At the same time, our love for others reveals God to us and casts us back into his arms so that we can be remade sufficiently to love all the more truly and profoundly. As a friend recently reminded me, "In solitude we should hear the cries of the world. It takes strength. And if you don't hear that cry, you are not mature enough. . ."

Mystics though any of us may be, we are all still "temporal world Catholics". Or perhaps the paradox is stronger and truer as it often is in Christianity: to the degree we are true mystics and citizens of heaven, we belong even more integrally to the temporal world loving it deeply and profoundly into wholeness. Never do we abandon it! Eremitical vocations (including reclusion), undoubtedly require "stricter separation from the world," in the sense defined below, but they do not allow us to divide reality into a temporal Catholic world and a separate and opposing mystical Catholic one, especially when that division (which could be used in a more typological sense otherwise) is accompanied by the implication that hermits in the "TCW" (read canonical or diocesan hermits!) are not given to contemplation or union with God, or the direct affirmation that a hermit needs to discern whether she is called to one or the other of these "worlds." [[So what hermits ought consider in discerning their vocation, is if he or she is called by God to be a temporal Catholic world hermit or a mystical Catholic world hermit. . . .]] This kind of stuff is simply theological nonsense, not least because any hermit alive today and every living Catholic mystic is alive in the "temporal Catholic world" (how could she NOT be?); further, both requires much from, and owes much to, that very world --- not least the recognition of its sacramental character as well as commitment to its continuing redemption and perfection in Christ! It is precisely the mystic (hermit or not) who appreciates all this most clearly!

The term, "world" in the phrases "hatred for the world" or "stricter separation from the world, " as I have written before, needs to be defined with care to prevent such theological nonsense. In Canon Law the term refers to "that which is yet unredeemed and not open to the salvific action of Christ," not least, I would add, that reality within ourselves! (A Handbook on Canons 573-746, "Norms Common to All Institutes of Consecrated Life," Ellen O'Hara, CSJ, p 33.) I have referred in the past here to "the world" as that which promises fulfillment apart from Christ. Neither of these complementary definitions suggests the wholesale renunciation of temporal for mystical, or supports the invalid and simplistic division of reality in such a way. Instead, both look to a certain ambiguity in temporal existence, and look to its perfection and fullness of redemption in Christ; rightly they expect Christians to open the way here. I hope you will look past relevent posts up --- especially re the notion that the world is something we carry within us, and not something we can simply or naively close the hermitage door on!

Again, I am reminded of several passages from Thomas Merton in regard to this last issue,

"When 'the world' is hypostatized [regarded as a distinct reality] (and it inevitably is), it becomes another of those dangerous and destructive fictions with which we are trying vainly to grapple.

or again,

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."

as well as,

"The way to find the real 'world' is not merely to measure and observe what is outside us, but to discover our own inner ground. For that is where the world is, first of all: in my deepest self.. . . This 'ground', this 'world' where I am mysteriously present at once to my own self and to the freedoms of all other men, is not a visible, objective and determined structure with fixed laws and demands. It is a living and self-creating mystery of which I am myself a part, to which I am myself my own unique door. When I find the world in my own ground, it is impossible for me to be alienated by it. . ." (The Inner Ground of Love)

or again:

"There remains a profound wisdom in the traditional Christian approach to the world as an object of choice. But we have to admit that the mechanical and habitual compulsions of a certain limited type of Christian thought have falsified the true value-perspective in which the world can be discovered and chosen as it is. To treat the world merely as an agglomeration of material goods and objects outside ourselves, and to reject these goods and objects in order to seek others which are "interior" or "spiritual" is in fact to miss the whole point of the challenging confrontation of the world and Christ. Do we really choose between the world and Christ as between two conflicting realities absolutely opposed? Or do we choose Christ by choosing the world as it really is in him, that is to say, redeemed by him, and encountered in the ground of our own personal freedom and love?" (The Inner Ground of Love, Emphasis added)

And finally (I have quoted this before):

"Do we really renounce ourselves and the world in order to find Christ, or do we renounce our own alienation and false selves in order to choose our own deepest truth in choosing both the world and Christ at the same time? If the deepest ground of my being is love, then in that very love and nowhere else will I find myself, the world, and my brother and my sister in Christ. It is not a question of either/or, but of all-in-one. It is not a matter of exclusivity and "purity" but of wholeness, whole-heartedness, unity, and of Meister Eckhart's gleichkeit (equality) which finds the same ground of love in everything."

I think, unfortunately, it is possible to read a lot of medieval mystical theology which is built on a notion of the world and contemptus mundi or a mundo secessu (as used today in Canon 603) that does indeed falsify the situation and makes difficult to see or make the real choice before us Christians. Yes, we must discern whether we are called to contemplative or active life (or to which of these essentially or primarily), to eremitic or even reclusive life or to apostolic or ministerial life, and of course, if God gifts us with mystical prayer, we need to honor that, but again, all this happens in the temporal world and as a gift to that world. In light of the incarnation, and especially in light of our own relational human constitutions as imago dei trinitates and grounded in God who speaks in and through us, that is precisely where God is to be found. Heaven and earth interpenetrate one another in light of the Christ Event and our task is to allow that to be more and more the case in Him. Setting up false, absolute, simplistic, and destructive dichotomies is no help at all.

I hope this helps. As always, if it is unclear or raises further questions, please email me.

Loneliness With Others: A Sign of an Eremitical Vocation?

[[Sister, if a person is lonely when they are with others, can this be a sign they are called to deeper solitude or maybe even to be a hermit?]]

Great question! I would have to say no, the chances are much better that this points to the need for inner work on one's capacity for and in relationships. We can be feeling lonely because we simply do not connect with others, for instance, or because there is something going on in us which keeps us self-centered and angry or unhappy, because we are unable to be truly vulnerable in the way the situation calls for, etc. If we are not really at home with ourselves we can feel this acutely when we are with others, but then we can mistake it for a sign that we are called to greater solitude and even to eremitical solitude.

So, the feeling of loneliness in a group I think is a signal to ask ourselves some serious questions and take some time do do some significant inner work, whether we do that with the aid of a therapist, a spiritual director, or simply our own journal. Some questions could include: what other feelings is this "loneliness" composed of? (This is one of the most important questions I think. Loneliness is often a complex constellation of feelings and it can help to identify what is actually going on. Thus, for instance, I can feel loneliness in one situation that is different from the loneliness I feel in a different situation. In the first I am anxious and ill at ease, in the second I am sad and tired. In a third I can simply desire to share something on a level which the group does not allow for. When I look at these experiences the roots of the feelings are actually very different. Only the third MIGHT signal the person has a call to eremitical life, and it might be correct to call this feeling something other than loneliness.) Other questions could include, when did I start feeling this way? When else have I felt this way? Am I afraid to be close to others? What happens when I try? Do I feel vastly different from these others (whether superior OR inferior, both are important)? Where does that come from? In any case, there are innumerable questions which might come up. The point is that the experience you describe is likely a sign that one needs to do some serious inner work with regard to relationships.

There are a number of stereotypes which affect the way people think about hermits. One of these is that hermits are loner types who are uncomfortable in groups of people. While it is true that stories of hermits have their share of "gruff anti-social personalities," the truth is that in general hermits are quite comfortable with themselves and therefore with others. They are capable of delighting in the time away from the hermitage and in social gatherings. They know full well that the world they are called to greater separation from is as much a part of their inner being as it is reality outside of themselves. Thus, if they are alienated from others to some degree they also know it is likely that they are alienated from themselves and God first --- so much so that a large piece of the loneliness they feel may come from the very center of themselves, not from the external situation per se --- and this calls for inner work. After all, eremites are not escaping the demands of love, nor are they trying to fill (or avoid) a hole at the center of their being. Instead they are answering a call to a special kind of love, first of God and then of all that he cherishes.

Questions On Stricter Separation from the World

I received the following questions by email and have decided to answer the followup ones here. The initial exchange is also included to provide context.

[[I have read a little on your website and I am curious about your interpretation of "stricter separation" in Canon 603. There is a lot of discussion among eremites as well as non eremites. Do you feel that the concept of what one might call "traditional eremitic life" is not possible to live in this century in terms of stricter separation? Just questions that have cropped up over time.]]

I am afraid, you will need to define your terms better for me to answer you. . . . What is "traditional stricter separation" to your mind? I find the term actually has had many legitimate variations and degrees over the centuries, so if you have a particular idea you need to spell that out. I believe that eremitical life is completely possible in most of its traditional forms (Stylites is one form that is probably less possible or even desirable today though certain ecoactivists still embrace it in order to save stands of trees), however, the way one defines "world" in the phrase "stricter separation from the world" is, as it was in the day and counsel of St Isaac of Nineveh, something that requires definition, otherwise, we will actually misunderstand the nature of eremitical life, including completely reclusive eremitical life --- and note that while the Canon can include reclusion, it does not need to mean this. What it DOES mean has to be determined by the individual hermit, her Bishop, director, delegate, and the Holy Spirit. This is where it becomes important to know the legitimate variations in the way eremitical silence and solitude has been lived out through the last 19 centuries in particular.

[[ What I am asking is how does one understand the mind of the church when it comes to the term "stricter separation as used in Canon 603. Can one live that "stricter separation" as understood by the church in the 21st Century. Somehow one's own interpretation of this canon law can reflect a great deal of confusion as to what eremitic life is about as understood through the centuries. Do Bishops and those whose counsel they would seek (to determine a candidate for this life) truly understand the vocation as understood in the mind of the church? For instance, if a bishop were to seek the counsel of a religious of the diocese regarding the rule and plan of life. Let us say one who does not understand what the mind of the church is in this regard - then the rule and plan of life might be accepted based on the necessary canonical wording, but not necessarily the charism of the life. We have in our diocese a sister hermit who basically promised to live the life and was received by the Bishop with no rule or plan of life, which is the second part of the canon. Eremitic life as experienced through the centuries and I speak of solitaries, not
lauras, seems to be more specific in terms of its tradition than what I see in this day and time. Hence the question.]]

First, remember that Canon 603 is only 25 years old. It was included in the Revised Code of Canon Law in October 1983 and had never been part of any previous code. (In fact, the eremitical life per se was never included in the Code as far as I know. Eremitical life, if it was provided for at all, was provided for in proper law, that is, in the Rule and Constitutions of individual orders and Congregations). The point here is that we are not speaking about a canon which may have become anachronistic over time therefore, but something meant to accommodate the experience of the church precisely as she neared the 21st century and sought to provide for hermits in contemporary terms. As far as the mind of the Church goes, it is up to the Bishops, canonists, hermits themselves and their directors all listening to the Holy Spirit to determine together what stricter separation from the world will and will not mean in each case. There is no single established meaning although there are certainly recognized parameters which excludes part-time or casual eremitism. Bishops are primarily responsible for discerning the presence of such vocations in their dioceses. Had the Church as a whole meant absolute reclusion, she would have said so in the canon. However, she did not.

Instead she used a relative term, "stricter separation" rather than "strict separation" or "absolute separation" and again, she is guided by the entire history of eremitical and monastic life in her understanding of this. Had she envisioned such a vocation for those who were not required to work at all to sustain themselves, she would have said so, and made provisions for the church supporting her hermits. And of course, she has done neither. In any case, in this matter, one understands the mind of the church precisely by listening to her Bishops. After all, it is significant that the responsibility for discernment of new forms of consecrated life (C 605) is placed directly in the hands of Bishops and immediately following both Canons 603 and 604, which were included in Canon law only for the first time in 1983. THIS is the mind of the Church on this matter and I suspect most Bishops meet their responsibility well.

As for canonical wording, there is, so far as I know, no fixed canonical wording required for a hermit's Rule. (There are fixed elements for the vow formulae but even then the candidate writes her own vows and this is a different matter.) Yes, canonists pass on the document to be sure it meets certain standards, but a number of others (Vicars, vocation directors, spiritual directors, priors and prioresses, etc) do the same and it is a completely individual document. No one gives the candidate a list of formulae to include or even a list of elements which should be addressed. Because of this, and especially because the Rule is so completely individual, the rule can be used to primarily guide discernment of the vocation. The Bishop's approval is the final and incredibly important step in a rather long process of discernment and evaluation, and the least part of that is vetting the Rule for canonical muster. Far more important is the Rule's capacity to reflect and nurture the nature and quality of the person's eremitical life. Thus, it is possbile for a Rule to be judged acceptable for purposes of the Canon at the same time a candidate is not admitted to profession. The contrary is also true. While Vicars, et al, meet and generally speak regularly with the candidate after she has become a serious candidate, it is the Rule itself which ordinarily serves as a definitive element in discernment.

Again, the charism of eremitical life can be reflected and lived out in a variety of ways. This has been true throughout the history of the Church and it remains so now. As I noted in my earlier response, the eremitical tradition is quite varied and that includes, but is not limited to solitary hermits. St Romuald would be a good example of this. The same is true of St Francis, as well as of hermits who became Popes, etc. etc. The hermit vocation has never been a one size fits all kind of thing eventhough the broad strokes are the same. There are standards for physical solitude without which a person will not even be considered a serious candidate, but what true eremitical solitude consists in, again, Bishops themselves determine by speaking to other Bishops re their own experience in the matter, to established (canonical) Congregations like the Camaldolese, diocesan hermits and their delegates, as well as by steeping themselves in the history of eremitical life in the past and present. Solitude is also a matter of the heart, and how a hermit defines "stricter separation" will be apt to change and develop over time based on what is required for the individual to maintain THIS solitude. Remember that eremitical life is a living reality, hence Bishops will be careful but also open to forms which differ in small ways from others but which share the same broad strokes. Again though, it is up to Bishops to determine what is the mind of the Church in these matters. More strongly put, it is up to Bishops to establish the mind of the Church over time and with experience, for they are the ones seeing, discerning, and guiding these vocations. Rome's understanding of these matters will depend on her Bishops' experience and wisdom.

By the way, please be aware that asking a diocesan hermit about the possibility of living "traditional" stricter separation from the world according to the mind of the church is a lot like asking a consecrated virgin today if it is possible to live such a life of chaste espousal to Christ in the 21st century according to the mind of the church. I would bind myself to neither (consecrated celibacy nor stricter separation from the world) if I thought that either was impossible, or that I was not living according to the mind of the church, nor would any of the hermits I personally know. The obvious answer is "Of course it is possible! Hermits, including myself, are doing it as we speak." Again, this is why I asked you what you meant by "traditional stricter separation" from the world.

Finally, regarding the Sister in your Diocese, I personally have never heard of a Bishop simply disregarding the requirements of the Canon in the way you describe. It would astonish me if it were truly the case. The Canon binds BOTH hermit and her Bishop in a mutual relationship; it would be more than a bit empty if there were no Rule guiding BOTH of them in this enterprise. Now, if the Sister is living as a hermit but NOT under Canon 603 it would be another form of eremitical story. (The Church recognizes both non-canonical and canonical hermits as valid forms of the life; only the latter requires a Rule which is approved by the person's Bishop. That said, to my mind, only an idiot would try to live such a life WITHOUT any Rule at all. That is begging for trouble.) With regard to the general situation you describe, there are other possibilities as well. For instance, this Sister could have been professed in community and be living as a hermit now while remaining part of her community or even transitioning to profession as a SOLITARY hermit under canon 603. Further, if she has been accepted as a candidate for eventual profession under Canon 603 but not yet written a Rule it would be a different and more understandable matter. There are a number of possibilities here which completely respect the provisions and requirements of the canon. Without more information it would be imprudent at best to criticize your Bishop in this regard.

Followup Question on the Eremitic Vocation and Contemptus Mundi

It seems my last answer on the idea of hermits being motivated by the need to escape the world raised further questions. Here is the followup:

[[ Okay. I get what you are saying about the hermit needing to be motivated by love, not the desire to escape the world in both senses you used the term. But couldn't a desire to escape from the world, or a refusal to understand it, be a form of genuine holiness, or a kind of rarified eremitical vocation? Don't we hear a lot about the idea of "hating" the world in spiritual writing? Are you saying none of this is legitimate?]]

In my earlier post, I wrote that the motivation for the eremitical vocation HAD TO BE love, not a desire to escape from reality. I maintain that is still the bottom line, and that a person who chooses to retreat to a "hermitage" because she cannot relate well to people, cannot delight in the world outside the hermitage, cannot (or does not desire to) understand that reality and sees herself as wholly different than it rather than an instance of it, is not a hermit in the Christian sense of that word. I would go somewhat further and affirm that she is unlikely to be genuinely called to eremitical life (especially diocesan eremitism) so long as this remains her orientation and attitude towards that world.

It is not the case that eremitism is a refuge for those who cannot relate well to the world outside the hermitage. It is a refuge, yes, but the genuinely holy space of the hermitage is meant to act as leaven, an instance of the coming Kingdom of God penetrating and transforming God's good creation. Everything within the hermitage is meant to be at the service of this process and this world, beginning with the hermit's own heart, and spilling over from there. In terms of the monastic concept of "contempt for the world", yes, that is valid, but only when we have defined "world" in the narrower sense of "that which promises fulfillment apart from God," and understand deeply that the world outside the hermitage is fundamentally good and MEANT TO BECOME part of what the Scriptures refer to as the new heaven and new earth.

It is completely appropriate to reject elements of the world outside the hermitage, and to refuse to understand them or seek to "know them" in the more intimate biblical sense of that term. But the idea that the hermit should not understand or wish to understand the very things that drive her neighbors, brothers, and sisters away from their own calls to holiness, or which wound and distort them in the name of this or that kind of fulfillment is something I cannot agree with. Again, hermits are called to love these persons, and I don't know how one can do so without a profound sense of solidarity with them which implies deep understanding. Let me be clear: I am not saying one must embrace the sin one finds in the world in order to love the world, just the opposite in fact. Neither, therefore, am I saying that one understands the world BY embracing its distortions and sinfulness. In fact, one does so mainly by a careful and discerning rejection of them. But, one cannot turn from the task of genuinely KNOWING these things and understanding them (first of all in oneself, and secondly in those one meets, etc) in the name of some supposedly rarified vocation to eremitical life. (Please note that rare --- which the hermit vocation is --- and rarified are not precisely the same terms.)

Thomas Merton once asked, [[ Do we really renounce ourselves and the world in order to find Christ, or do we renounce our alienated and false selves in order to choose our own deepest truth in choosing both the world and Christ at the same time?]] He continued: [[If the deepest ground of my being is love, then in that very love, and nowhere else will I find myself, and my brother and sister in Christ. It is not a question of either-or but of all-in-one. It is not a matter of exclusivity and "purity" but of wholeness, whole-heartedness, unity, and of Meister Eckhart's gleichheit (equality) which finds the same ground of love in everything.]]

I think here is a major part of the answer to your questions. There is a paradox, indeed a series of paradoxes involved in the eremitic life. To name a couple, we leave the world to a greater extent than most in order to love the One who grounds its existence, and to love all that he loves as well. We become contemplatives not to escape from the world, but to confront it and transform it, to bring it to wholeness and fullness of life --- though I grant you this confrontation is different than most would ordinarily conceive. Still, what is true is that eremitic life is a life of profound engagement with the world and its God (or, better said, perhaps, with God on behalf of and in solidarity with that world). One may shut the door of one's hermitage, but not to close out the world (if by this we also mean turning our backs on it in self-centered introspection); instead, one does so to relate to it more honestly and lovingly. One point I think is that engagement does not imply enmeshment, just as escape from the world outside the hermitage does not equal monastic "contemptus mundi". Solidarity does not mean complete agreement; indeed genuine solidarity can be profoundly critical and SHOULD BE deeply challenging even while it remains radically supportive. Conversely, the witness of the hermit is meant to challenge the world outside the hermitage, but that presupposes a significant degree of solidarity with it as well.

So, my answer to your questions (except to the last one) amount to a yes, with serious clarifications and qualification. I have seen persons who desire to be hermits speak of their hermitages as places of retreat from a world they claim openly to neither understand nor wish to understand. In these same instances, I have heard descriptions of not relating well to others, being estranged from and disliked by them, out of step in normal social situations, constantly at the center of misunderstandings and crises, and the like. In such cases, these persons seem to want to get back to the hermitage that makes relatively few personal demands on them in terms of others. The "loving" described" by these persons, when it is mentioned at all, is a safe, abstract, personally-undemanding love that involves little giving of self and no real death to self in Christ. (This is so because, in fact, there is a failure or refusal to recognize the self as at least a partial source of many of the problems described. There is a failure to see "the world" which one carries within oneself, or to confront and seek sanctification and healing of that reality.) These particular retreats from the world are exercises in illegitimate escape, NOT engagement. They represent misanthropy, not eremitism. Such retreat is capitulation to the very world one seeks to reject, not a matter of contemplative engagement or the legitimate "greater separation from the world" mentioned in canon 603.

I suppose one thing I have not emphasized enough in this post is the fact that "greater separation from the world" in the canon which governs eremitical life in the Roman Catholic Church implies, first of all, rejection of that reality in oneself. If one speaks of the world as something merely "out there" and runs to the hermitage to escape from that reality, instead one will find that it has been locked inside the hermitage with one --- and it will devour the one who does not recognize and confront it. Too often people have spoken of "the world" as something which exists merely outside themselves, something which can be escaped by shutting the door and refusing to go out. Nothing could be further from the truth. When I read your question, I took it as describing this kind of situation, so feel free to correct me or clarify further if I was mistaken in my reading.

Why isn't it enough. . .???

I received the following questions 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 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, 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 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 world" refers to those structures, realities, things, positions, values, etc which PROMISE FULFILLMENT or personal [dignity and] completion APART FROM GOD. 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, and 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 (and, in fact, Christian) hermit --- one for whom the heart of her vocation is love, not only of God but of all that God cherishes. 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, and 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, 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 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" in the monastic sense is a refusal to face reality, and thus will also involve an inability to love it into wholeness. Thus, 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 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.

I hope this answers the second part of your question! Please let me know if it does not, or if it raises more questions. In the meantime, all my best.

True and False Solitude/Solitaries

Recently a neighbor asked me some questions about the significance of my perpetual profession. She wondered what it meant, what would be different, what does it do? I started with the most basic ideas. Did she know what a hermit was? She responded, "Yes, it is someone who hides. . ." and then her statement sort of broke off, as if she realized how unflattering to me that definition must be!

And yet isn't my neighbor's idea pretty common? Isn't it true that even among hermits or those wanting to become religious hermits, there are strange ideas of what constitutes genuine solitude? Isn't there a sense sometimes that hermits embrace silence and solitude because they cannot and do not relate well to others? Isn't there a strong popular sense that hermits do not have close friends? That affirming that God alone is sufficient for us means we can dispense with the demands of social interaction, and beyond that, of deep friendship? Now let me be clear, reclusion is a unique vocation, and I am not referring to it here (though ordinarily authentic reclusion involves profound relationships and deep friendships too). I am talking about the genuine solitude of most hermits, a solitude whose heart is communion with God, and therefore, a solitude which spills over and finds another whole dimension of itself in relationships with others, and beyond that with the whole of God's creation.

Thomas Merton wrote about true versus false solitude and solitaries. For instance, he noted: [[“[the false solitary’s] solitude is imaginary … the false solitary is one who is able to imagine himself without companions while in reality he remains just as dependent on society as before – if not more dependent. He needs society as a ventriloquist needs a dummy. He projects his own voice and it comes back to him admiring, approving, opposing or at least adverting to his own separateness.”. . . “The true solitary does not renounce anything that is basic and human about his relationship to other men. He is deeply united to them – all the more deeply because he is no longer entranced by marginal concerns.”

One of the things that has become clearer and clearer to me as I live in solitude is just how much LIKE others I really am, and above all, how deeply related to them. This is true whether I am speaking about members of my parish, members of the orchestra I play violin in, clients, family, friends, etc. My vocation is unique but I am not. My circumstances are pretty common: a life marked and marred by illness, ordinary successes, some spectacular failures (some I am still coming to terms with and still feel embarrassment over), dreams yearning for fulfillment, a strong need to share what I have been given, etc. I spend a lot of time in silence and solitude, in contemplative prayer and study, and there is no doubt that I enjoy it and am sometimes tempted to use it as a way to withdraw defensively. But most of the time, so long as my life is profoundly prayerful, I do it because it allows me to be truly related in healthy ways with others, not to hide from those relationships. The hermit dwells in the heart of God, and the heart of God is a pretty populated place!!

[[The true solitary is not called to an illusion, to the contemplation of himself as a solitary. He is called to the nakedness and hunger of a more primitive and honest condition.”]]

Many things drive us to solitude and the notion of "hermitage", not all of them, or even most of them, necessarily positive. The immediate tendency when in physical solitude is to focus on self. One may be enamored of the IDEA of being a hermit, or even of the ROLE one is trying to assume instead of the person one actually is (not to mention the God who resides in one's heart). If one writes about eremitic life (or tries to do so!) this writing may simply be a not-so-veiled exercise in navel gazing and either self pity or self-aggrandizement. One could, conceiveably, justify many failures on many levels by considering oneself a hermit: social failures, emotional immaturity and the failure to achieve individuation, etc. Such a person might say to themselves, "Hermits don't have deep friendships!" "Hermits don't have to interact with the business/academic/ecclesial or other worlds; a hermit afterall, is 'dead to the world'", or again, "It is fine to rest in my suffering or to refuse to care appropriately for one's physical state, etc, because this is a form of 'mortification' in which I as victim participate in the redeeming suffering of Christ!", "God wills such suffering in my life," etc. Nevermind that such spiritualities are inherently dangerous and often the refuge of the deluded, or that their underlying theology is often bankrupt and a serious distortion of Christian theology.

But in an authentically DIVINE vocation to eremitic life, one will not indulge such pretense. If one has been brought to the desert by circumstances which are traumatic or negative and result in defense mechanisms which are destructive, in a genuine vocation, these will gradually be transfigured and transmuted into something far more positive and healthy. Religious language can be used to cover a plethora of sins: the inability to relate to others or reality can become a prohibition on particular friendships and allusions to dying to the world; a sense of victimization which casts the rest of the world in the role of perpetrators, can be recast and apparently (but not really) legitimized through the pious language of "victim souls" and "reparative suffering", one's own inner demons and need for either good spiritual direction or psychological assistance and personal work can be avoided, externalized, and superficially legitimated by calling our emotional states and defenses "attacks by the devil which God wills"

The hermitage is part sanctuary, part crucible, part battle ground, and part therapy space. No one comes to the desert for completely pure motives. We are all ambivalent. We are all complex and ambiguous mixtures of worthy and unworthy motives because at bottom we remain imago dei who are also sinners. At some point, in the authentic eremitic vocation though, the unworthy motives are worked through and discarded, while the worthy ones are purified and enhanced. If, once upon a time, our solitude, to whatever extent, was an escape and prison, it will become the doorway to engagement or communion and real freedom. If the subject of our meditations was ourselves AS SOLITARIES, our meditations will change and become those of a profoundly related solitary interested in and compassionate for others, and committed to God and God's OWN world of people --- with their problems AND possibilities.

Merton once pointed out that the person who went off into solitude also held a mirror up to themselves, and they would come away from that encounter either completely self-centered and insane, or other-centered and whole/holy (I admit this is a bad paraphrase, but it has been a number of years since I read this, and I would need to look up the exact statement to reprise it better; apologies to Merton). Either the things that pursued us into the desert will, with the grace of God, be met and transformed and transcended, or they will continue to define us, no matter what religious jargon we use to try to hide or "describe" the fact. Discernment of an eremitic vocation is not always easy, and when there are elements of a true vocation mixed with so much that is false, the job is always to move from inauthentic to authentic vocation, from false solitude to true solitude, from isolation and self-centeredness to a profound and compassionate relatedness established in the heart of God and spilling over into the rest of one's more tangible world.