The Surprising Face of Eremitical Solitude Through the Centuries

In my last post, I was asked about living in solitude and why it is that hermits don't always live strictly alone. My response presupposes a lot of what I said in that post regarding the meaning of words and especially on the nature of the constitutive elements of c 603, but it also involves the history of eremitical life, which is rather different than some believe it to be. Perhaps most surprising to those who believe solitude always means being absolutely alone is the fact that throughout the centuries hermits have often lived with one or two others. This was true of the Desert Abbas and Ammas because they accepted that novice hermits needed to be mentored and gradually introduced to eremitical life under the tutelage of an experienced hermit. There are other reasons two hermits might live together including safety, some degree of illness or debility, etc., and this has never been seen as a betrayal of the vocation's requirement of solitude, not least because it need not conflict with the cultivation of an interior solitude.

Saint Francis' Rule for Hermits is a very brief but really significant document for the way we look at eremitical life; it sets up a living situation in which two or three individuals live in solitude while being looked after by at least one other Friar who serves as "Mother" to the hermits. After a sufficient period of time in solitude roles are reversed and the one serving as Mother begins his period in solitude while the hermits take turns serving as Mother. All of the brothers spend their days in community in a broader sense, but the community allows for significant eremitical solitude for individuals. In other words, it makes safe and healthy Franciscan eremitical life possible. While life in this setup was not luxurious by any means, I am struck by the complete lack of accent on any kind of harsh, arbitrary, or externally imposed asceticism in the name of spiritual "purification". Solitude in this scheme is not some kind of brutal attempt to gut out absolute aloneness for aloneness' own sake or to learn the hard lessons that isolation might be able to teach. Rather, it is about giving generous and humble Friars the chance to spend significant time alone with God in genuine solitude within a loving community of brethren.

I recently cited the work of Edward L Cutts on "The Hermits and Recluses of the Middle Ages" and one of the insights his work gives is into the hermitages and living situations of some hermits who are not recluses. He notes that Richard Rolle lived for some time at the residence of Sir John Dalton who gave him a solitary chamber, clothed him in a hermit's habit and paid for his necessities. It was from this place that Rolle wrote books, counseled visitors, and was absorbed in prayer. Interestingly, Rolle had experiences of temptation and "demonic assault" and became most concerned with the spiritual consolation of recluses. Later he lived near a Cistercian monastery (nunnery) in Hampole and it was here that he died after a long history of writing devotional and mystical works.

While this may seem an exceptional account, Cutts also notes, [[It was not very unusual for hermitages to be built for more than one occupant; but probably in all cases, each hermit had his own cell, adjoining their common chapel. This was the original arrangement of hermits of the Thebais in their laura. The great difference between a hermitage of more than one hermit, and a small cell of one of the other religious orders, was that in such a cell one monk or friar would have been the prior, and the others subject to him; but each hermit was independent of any authority on the part of the other; he was subject only to the obligation of his Rule, and the visitation of his bishop.]]

I want to point out the similarity in what is being described here and what sometimes happens with c 603 hermits today. In the Diocese of Fort Wayne-South Bend, for instance, the current Bishop has professed and consecrated three older women who live together in the same house. I was asked several years ago how this could be allowed under c 603 and suggested a living situation very like the one Cutts has just described from the Middle Ages. Similarly, when c 603 hermits join together in a laura, the requirement that this not rise to the level of a religious institute, but that the c 603 hermits each have their own Rule, own bank account, etc., so each is self-supporting, sounds very like what was true in the Middle Ages. The same is true of Sister Beverly's Marymount hermitage in the Diocese of Boise, though Sister Rebecca no longer lives there. In these examples, eremitical solitude, which is not defined in terms simply of being alone but which implies significant time alone with God, yet also within a parish, diocesan, or neighboring community (and sometimes a small community of other solitary hermits) may, for some, be a surprising way of looking at solitude.

The point here is that eremitical solitude is a special form of solitude with a special purpose, namely communion with God for the sake of others. Yes, some of us live a significant degree of aloneness in our time with God and some find they are called to actual reclusion. This is critically important to the vocation and to the witness the vocation provides. (Here I am thinking of Thomas Merton's comment about nature, peace, and the grace of God and what the hermit's life says about these. cf last paragraph of Ministry of the Hermit.) Community, however, is always a dimension of (Christian) eremitical solitude precisely because the life is both rooted in and serves a faith community. Through the centuries this tendency to distinguish eremitical solitude from a dangerous and destructive isolation with practices like that of  Saint Francis, the Desert Abbas and Ammas, Anchorites and anchoresses living linked to churches and village or town communities, or the example of Richard of Hampole and others from the Middle Ages, is a recurring pattern of authentic eremitical life.

On Silence and Solitude in the Service of Intimacy with God

[[Sister, you write about hermits a lot. You don't take a vow of silence, do you? But why not if "the silence of solitude"is such an important element of c 603? At the same time why do you treat solitude as though it is not really about being alone?]]

Thanks for your questions. I think they are actually pretty common for non-hermits or for those whose notion of eremitical life is idealized. Similar questions could be asked about the other constitutive elements of the vocation including stricter separation from the world whenever "the world" is taken to mean anything outside the hermitage door. In each of these cases, solitude, the silence of solitude, and stricter separation from the world, what we find is that these terms are more nuanced than most people understand. None of them is absolute. By that I mean the eremitical life is not about absolute silence, absolute solitude, or absolute withdrawal from the world. Instead, these elements are real and substantial in a way that allows the vocation to be defined in terms of them, and at the same time, they are qualified by the needs of the hermit for growth, healing, and holiness as she moves toward maturity in her relationship with God and others in an ecclesial vocation.

So, for instance, no, I don't take a vow of silence nor do I hold myself to a Rule calling for absolute silence. I talk (to God and less frequently, to others), I sing, I listen to, compose (improvise), and play music, and all of this requires significant, but (obviously) not absolute silence. Silence is necessary to be a person of prayer because prayer is about listening and being available to God, and we are attentive and available to God so that God may recreate the world as he wills. That recreation begins with us and with the way God's love transforms us as human beings. Hermits cultivate silence for this purpose, not simply for itself alone. Moreover, silence can be external or internal; while both are important it is internal silence that is key in the hermit's life. The cultivation of inner silence and stillness is the aim of a life of stricter external silence. Whatever is happening externally leads us to the profound internal silence that allows for the song we are  to rise up within us and be "sung." 

What I am saying is that the hermit is silent and embraces silence to the extent it leads us to prayer and then, to union with God. The same is true of solitude. External solitude serves the hermit's life with God and her growth as a human being. One is alone with God for the sake of God's will and all that that Divine will desires and occasions. In some ways, there is also an inner solitude where the individual is at peace with themselves and with God. This solitude is about a harmonious relationship; one is truly oneself in this space, and one is oneself with God. It is the antithesis of isolation and when I write about it, I speak of it as the redemption of isolation. 

When c 603 speaks of the silence of solitude, most superficially it means the quiet that exists when one is not conversing with others or otherwise engaging with others, but at its deepest, it is an intimacy with God where God is allowed to be God and we are the human person God calls us to be. This silence of solitude is peaceful (though not painless!), profoundly energizing,  and marked by a sense of solidity and love in and through which one is truly oneself. It is therefore also about being profoundly in relationship with the whole of God's creation and the whole of God's People. When I write about the silence of solitude I also speak of it as involving the quieting of our existential anguish and pain. We can be screams of anguish and then be transformed through the love of God into a quiet and joyful song of praise. And of course, sometimes the anguish recurs and our personal song is transfigured into lament. This is still vastly different from simply being a scream of anguish! 

The bottom line in all of this is that when I speak of solitude it does mean being alone, but one is alone with God and, in varying degrees of intimacy, with all that is grounded in God. This is why I tend to usually say "eremitical solitude." There are a variety of forms of solitude; some are not healthy and most are not eremitical. The corollary is that when the hermit is not alone, but is with others, the inner silence and solitude of her relationship with God remains foundational. When a hermit has lived the silence of solitude for some time she does not need to be particularly concerned that contact with others, including occasional social functions, will destroy the silence of solitude that is so fundamental to who she is. 

Yes, of course, care is always necessary and is part of a vow of obedience, but the silence of solitude rooted in God's love is still the pedal tone of the hermit's life and it both calls her to be present to others and summons her back to the hermitage. The image I have in mind here is a Taize chant (cf., In God Alone) where woodwinds, etc., may improvise a kind of obligato above and around the chant and even occasionally sound a bit dissonant as the linkage to the chant becomes strained for the hearer, but these instruments and the line they play always find their way back to the chant of which they are always an exploration and elaboration.

Once Again, On Whether Bishop Stowe Believes Cole Matson Has a Vocation

[[Sister Laurel, why would you say that Bishop Stowe seemed not to believe Cole Matson/Brother Christian had any real vocation at all? He professed him as a diocesan hermit! Doesn't that indicate a belief in a vocation?]] 

Thanks for your question. I had hoped this was clear from several different posts, but let me try and explain it a bit better. God calls each of us to do something unique, something only we can do because only we will meet the needs of the situation with the self we are. (God may call many individuals to do a larger work, but in every case, the vocation a person answers is their own individual and unique vocation.) Moreover, God calls each of us to a vocation where we ourselves will be fulfilled in the way God wills for us and in the way the Church and world really need.  This unique call is our vocation.

When Cole Matson convinced himself he was called to public vows rather than to the vocation he had described to me in terms clearly empowered by the Holy Spirit, and when he determined to use c 603 as a means to public profession despite the fact that the Church does not recognize any such vocation, Cole let go of his God-given vocation and substituted something else, and something far less worthy in its place. Tragically, Bishop Stowe colluded in this, and by affirming Cole in a vocation he claimed not to be called to, Bp Stowe seemed to indicate he really didn't care that Cole's true vocation was going unanswered. He may even have demonstrated he believed there was no such true vocation. Of course, Bp Stowe also indicated not only an ignorance of the nature of c 603 vocations, despite having been written about this to some extent by a diocesan hermit,  but he indicated he may not care about these vocations themselves.

When bishop Stowe described why he decided to (attempt to) profess Cole Matson it was a particularly anemic statement in terms of vocation. If you recall, he spoke mostly about what the vocation did not involve (ordination, sacramental ministry). He said, [My willingness to be open to him is because it’s [note the objectifying lack of personal pronoun] a sincere person seeking a way to serve the church,’ Stowe said of Matson. ‘Hermits are a rarely used form of religious life … but they can be either male or female. Because there’s no pursuit of priesthood or engagement in sacramental ministry, and because the hermit is a relatively quiet and secluded type of vocation, I didn’t see any harm in letting him live this vocation.’ . . .]] In other words, [[Whom could it hurt? It's not like s/he was asking to be made a priest! Hermits are tucked away from anything really central in the church, so what difference could it possibly make?]]

While technically true in several ways, all of this manages to misunderstand the nature and significance of the solitary eremitical vocation, the reasons discernment and formation of such vocations require real diligence, knowledge, and focused care, and it misunderstands especially the place they serve in the life of the Church. The idea of professing someone who does not honestly claim to feel called by God to this specific vocation, and who in fact, claims to feel truly called to another vocation entirely, does a disservice to the vocation and the person involved. Especially, eremitical life is not meant as a way of preparing one for the ministry apostolic religious are mainly involved in. For instance, eremitical solitude, in particular, is not about relaxing in one's hermitage or recharging one's spiritual batteries so one may minister elsewhere, like the theatre, where Cole Matson's main energies go for the majority of the day and evening.

The solitude of the hermit is the context of her main work, namely prayer. Moreover, it is an intensely demanding reality, not least because human beings are social creatures and are not ordinarily meant to come to human wholeness in solitude, but also because when this is the nature of one's solitude, it will be about meeting oneself and becoming more and more profoundly truthful with oneself about who one is and is called to be. One will deal with past woundedness, personal sin, frailties, limitations of all sorts, and the way one colludes with untruth and death even in a vocation given over to life and the very Source of Life we call Abba. Sister Jeremy Hall (Silence, Solitude, Simplicity: A Hermit's Love Affair with a Noisy, Crowded, and Complicated World) spoke of the desert as the place of encounter; above all, that means living towards, for, and from one's maturing encounter with God, but at the same time, it means living in light of a continuing encounter with oneself, a coming to terms with all of that, and, an integration of one's whole life in terms of these continuing forms of encounter. It is this integration that we call holiness while growth in this is what we call sanctification (but also humanization and divinization).

Most people have regular avenues of escape or at least significant relief from this kind of intensity of encounter. But not the hermit. Even her recreation serves the quality of her commitment to this paradoxical vocation of encounter. Witness to this encounter, an encounter that is meant to be at the heart of every Christian vocation, is the actual mission of the hermit. Yet, in Bishop Stowe's approach to and description of c 603 life, one would never imagine such an intense process lay at the heart of the vocation. The approval Stowe gave Matson to spend more than two-thirds of his day in the theatre underscores both parties' ignorance of this foundational dynamic of eremitical life; for Bp Stowe, this ignorance points to a failure to perceive Cole Matson as having been called to it as well. (If you don't understand it exists, how can you recognize someone is called to it? More, how can you affirm them in this vocation?) The tragedy of all of this, however, lies not only in the misrepresentation of this vocation (though I admit that tragedy is significant, indeed), but also in the failure involved by not finding (or creating) a more appropriate avenue for Cole to respond to his true vocation, which itself argues that perhaps Bp Stowe doesn't truly believe in Cole Matson's true vocation.

To Be What One is Called to Be --- and to Become That Ever More Deeply

[[ Dear Sister Laurel, you wrote, [[It is this core identity that makes one a hermit, not the canonical designation per se. In other words, Canon 603 alone does not make one a hermit; it makes the hermit that one already is a canonical (consecrated solitary) hermit.]] You were writing about a situation in which someone described themselves as "sort of a monk/missionary" but not as a hermit. Is it possible to be professed under canon 603 and never genuinely become the hermit one is supposed to be? Does this happen very often? Do dioceses take care to be sure the persons they profess are hermits before profession? Is it important that they not make this mistake?]]

Good questions, but not ones I can mainly answer! It is possible to be professed under c 603 without ever truly becoming a hermit, yes (though of course this ought not be possible). Sometimes individuals seek to be professed under c 603 and known in this way but they have not, and may never, grow into the hermit they are called to become, yes. In the piece you are referring to I was writing about a priest who had had problems with his bishop (and vice versa) who sought to be established under c 603 and thus, freed from some of the constraints of his priesthood and for greater ability to follow his own values and vision of the way things ought to be. He recognized himself as "sort of a monk/missionary" but (rightly I think) could not call himself a hermit. And yet, he had sought to be professed under c 603. 

Canon 603 has sometimes been used by individuals to become religious without the constraints, challenges, or responsibilities of life in community. I think this motivation is usually kept fairly well-hidden, or at least not expressed to diocesan personnel. Dioceses have allowed this (that is, they have failed to uncover this motive in discernment) because 1) they themselves didn't know what a hermit is or, especially, what a solitary hermit is or how they are formed, and 2) they failed to see how it would matter if they professed a non-hermit. Mistakes are made for other reasons as well, even when the individual petitioning for admission to profession is sincere and well-motivated -- which happens when the person has a religious vocation but not an eremitical one. (The Episcopal Church allows for solitary religious who need not be or become hermits; the Roman Catholic Church does not.)

It is important that the church as well as candidates for profession under c 603 not make this mistake even as it becomes easier to make it, I think. Today's culture is highly individualistic, whereas paradoxically, eremitical life is not. Moreover, there is a strong current of what has come to be called "cocooning" which does not rise to the level of eremitical life, or the silence of solitude demanded by canon 603. It is more than possible for a person (and for diocesan personnel) to mistake these phenomena for the external characteristics of an eremitical vocation when they are actually contrary to such a life. There are external similarities between individualism and cocooning with stricter separation from the world and the silence of solitude, of course, but at their heart they are vastly different realities. Significantly, the characteristics of c 603 mentioned are at once solitary while being essentially communal and are meant to be rooted in and to support life in communion with God, with/in God's Church, and too, with God's good creation.

It is especially important that dioceses profess actual hermits who have embraced the values of c. 603 and show evidence of being committed to living into these ever more deeply so that c 603 does not become a cuckoo's nest where a different form of life is slipped into the heart of the Church's vocation to consecrated eremitical life. As with the life of a cuckoo's egg raised in another bird's nest amongst other hatchlings, this will be destructive of the solitary eremitical vocation itself and will render it incredible to the faithful seeking to understand and honor such vocations. Canon 603 is almost 40 years old at this time and we have only begun living down the destructive stereotypes associated with eremitical life; we must not, insofar as we are truly able, use it for anything but genuine hermits. 

It becomes particularly critical that c 603 life always be genuinely eremitical for those whose aloneness requires hope that their isolation can be transformed into deep communion lest they fall into despair. As I've said before, for those who must live alone for various reasons, but who are not called to be canonical hermits (or hermits of any sort for that matter), eremitical life can witness to the completion and joy that can come with a uniquely solitary expression of community; this is made less and less possible when dioceses profess non-hermits who may never actually become hermits at all --- and, despite having been professed and consecrated, may never discover (much less witness to) the deep consolation of such a vocation because they are not truly called to it.

In the "Bishop's Decree of Approval" for my Rule of life, the decree reads [[I pray that this Rule of Life proves advantageous in living the eremitical life.]] I appreciate my own diocese's humility in recognizing they had done the best that they could in discerning my vocation with me, and that my Rule might not truly prove advantageous to living eremitical life. Mistakes are possible, but it is important that these be minimized and if possible, that they not be made at all, especially given the importance of eremitical witness to God as the One who completes us in a culture that mistakes individualism for individuality and cocooning for eremitical life in the community the hermit experiences as eremitical solitude.

Can One be a Consecrated Virgin and a Consecrated Hermit at the same time?

[[ Dear Sister, I am in my mid thirties with some brief experience of religious life. After I left my community I began to feel a longing for solitude and I also had a sense that perhaps I was being called to consecrated virginity. Is it possible to become a consecrated virgin and a hermit at the same time? Also, I have a strong yearning for solitude so I am thinking about becoming a hermit]]

Thanks for your questions. First, can one be consecrated under canon 604 (consecrated virgin living in the world) as well as under c 603 (without making a choice or clear discernment for one or the other)? Once upon a time, in the earliest history of both canons, the answer to that question was yes, but no longer. C 604 outlines a vocation marked by secularity --- a unique and compellingly sacred or eschatological secularity, to be sure, but still, a form of secularity. Consecrated virgins under c 604 are called upon to live this vocation “in the things of the Spirit and the things of the world.” This is a distinctive vocation with its own characteristics and dignity. It is discerned separately from any other vocation and entered into only when one has truly discerned such a vocation. In general, dioceses require that a person come to clarity regarding which vocation they are asking to be consecrated in.

That said, I should also point out that it is conceivable that one makes a mistake in their discernment and after some time (i.e.,  some years) comes to determine they have a different call. One might also grow into a calling and the eremitical vocation, since it is a second half of life vocation, might be one that one grows into. In such cases one might add profession under c 603 to consecration under c 604, but one would identify as a diocesan hermit and live in that way. If the discernment went the other direction (from hermit to CV), then, after securing one’s bishop’s approval to be consecrated under c 604, one would seek dispensation of one’s vows as a hermit and be consecrated as a CV. It is the case that some have seen that the two vocations can co-exist. I personally do not agree, but given the existence of a handful of such dual vocations now extant, the basic truth in such a case remains: at this point in the canons' history, one must discern which vocation is primary and be consecrated in that specific way. 

Moreover, my own impression is that if the two vocations can coexist, it can only occur when one privileges the eremitical over the consecrated virgin calling; that is, they can co-exist only when the eremitical is primary and consecrated virginity adds specific and necessary dimensions to the eremitical life it might not otherwise have. I haven't read or heard anything in discussions of the question, however, that convinces me c 604 has something needed by hermits living under c 603 which their own consecration does not provide. Hermits today recognize the spousal nature of their vocations and often have a profoundly maternal heart which informs and can inspire everything they do. They have these things by virtue of their own personal formation and their consecration by God in eremitical life. The sticking point for me on having such dual vocations is the secularity of c 604 --- significantly eschatological as that may be. Canon 603 call for stricter separation from the world [than other consecrated persons] and that seems to me to conflict with the CV's calling not only to be in the world but not of it as is true for all Christians, but also with the CV's call to act or minister "in the things of the Spirit and the things of the world". 

Secondly, you ask if a desire for solitude indicates an eremitical vocation? My answer has to be, perhaps, but not necessarily and not of itself. Your Sisters in the community you left, have a desire for solitude. So do forest rangers, many librarians, and others with quiet and solitary vocations --- all without being called to eremitical life. Unfortunately, for example, so do misanthropes, those with serious clinical depressions, and those with agoraphobia! As I have noted before here, the Unabomber had a strong desire for solitude, but this did not translate into an eremitical call the Church would have recognized or embraced and validated. You get the point, I think. There are many different kinds of solitude and a number of varying reasons for desiring it. Some are healthy and even noble, some are decidedly not healthy and may be downright ignoble. Very few are part of a call to eremitical solitude. When a desire for solitude matures into part of a call to eremitical life, it will also do so beyond the healthy desires for solitude associated with coenobitical life, or normal everyday life and it will do so along with other characteristics which help define it in terms of eremitical life. 

I sincerely hope this is helpful! Let me know if it raises more questions or concerns for you.

Eremitical Solitude as a Form of Community: On the Place of the "Elder" in Eremitical Life

[[Dear Sister, isn't it true that the traditional form of eremitical life is of living completely alone. How is what you live in agreement with traditional hermit life? You have Sisters who maybe don't live with you, but who you depend on. How can you claim to be living the truth that God alone is enough for you/us?]]

Thanks for your questions. I would disagree with you that the traditional form of eremitical life is to live entirely alone --- though I agree that large periods of time are and must be spent that way in any eremitical life.  In this I mean that physical solitude must be lived in a way sufficient to define the life and allow it to be characterized as one of real solitude. Your real disagreement seems to be with the fact that I have Sisters who serve me and my vocation in their work as my spiritual director and/or as delegates for myself and my diocese. In fact, I believe this is one variation on the traditional eremitical life or desert tradition involving elders; this was made famous (and perhaps normative) in the lives of the Desert Abbas and Ammas, as well as on Mount Athos, for instance, and in the Eastern Church more generally. The same is true of Carthusian eremitical life which depends on access to elders who assist with formation, both initial and ongoing. Meanwhile, Franciscanism uses a  uniquely communal model of eremitism and the hermitage which depends upon another friar or sister who serves as "mother" to those (two or three) living in solitude. They later reverse the roles so everyone may live in solitude and serve one another as "mother" in the process. Wherever eremitical life has been authentic and edifying, hermits (or ascetics) have depended on and often lived with Elders. In time the situation is perpetuated as the disciple (one who is open to being taught) becomes recognized as an elder her/himself and disciples (those open to learning/being taught the way of Christ in the desert) come to them in turn.

The relationship between elder and disciple has always been a complex and sacred one. It begins simply, perhaps. One approaches someone whom one wishes will help one become a hermit (or a Sister, monk, etc). In some instances this relationship may be strengthened or intensified with what I have referred to as the ministry of authority. In such instances there is a bond of authority and obedience as one learns to listen and respond deeply to God both in terms of the elder's own experience and wisdom, and in terms of one's own life in solitude. It seems to me, however, that where this particular relationship with an elder (a director, delegate, legitimate superior) is strongest and best is where is begins to blossom in a relationship of deep and mutual friendship rooted in love of Christ. I don't think one ever outgrows the relationship with an elder as elder because there is a holiness, an intimacy, and corresponding respect (sometimes taking the form of deference) to such a relationship that colors everything else, but I do believe that one can grow in ways that allow one to feel and be more an equal or peer with that elder. When that happens it is an awesome thing and, like all real friendships, a gift of God.

It is this last point I want to emphasize. Such relationships are forged in necessity (i.e.,  because of the need for direction and the ministry of authority), which itself is a gift of God, and they flower in  grace which is sometimes the grace of true friendship. Such rare friendships are both a gift of God and mediate the very presence and life of God. In my own life, the relationships I have spoken of here tend to be possible only because and to the extent I am faithful to a life of Christ in the silence of solitude. Similarly, those serving me and my vocation in the ways I have described are only able to do so by virtue of their own lives of faithfulness to the love and presence of God in Christ. Speaking for myself and my own experience here, I have to say that it is my vocation to the silence of solitude that causes me to seek the assistance of genuine elders, and the assistance of these elders sends me back into the silence of solitude in ever deepening ways. This goes far beyond the canonical requirement of supervision --- though I suspect canon 603's requirement here foresaw this deeper reality and the need for it in any genuine hermit's life. Still, one cannot legislate friendship; one can only pray that such a relationship grows out of what can and, in fact, must be legislated for the sake of the ministry of authority and the vocation itself.

In any case, I don't find any conflict with the eremitical notion that "God Alone is Enough" because for each of us (my delegates and myself), whether singly, in community (both Sister M and Sister S live in and on behalf of a community of Sisters and their charism and mission) or when we come together to talk, work, and share, that is always the ultimate truth we bear witness to with and for one another. No matter the topic, nor the activity, this is a pervasive and evident truth which grounds our lives. None of us is completed by anyone but God because none of us is completed except by the Love which IS God. This foundational truth grounds our lives and commitments -- whether lived in community or eremitical solitude. It is the truth we live for one another, and the reason my Directors can serve me or their own Sisters as they do.

One of the ways this is clearest is the way these Sisters are affected by the increasing diminishment of their congregations or provinces. I cannot even imagine the pain involved in watching one's Sisters die in increasing numbers as the median age of the community rises. I cannot imagine the courage and love it takes to entrust this process entirely to God, to see that God will bring good from it, to work with God in ways which assure good will come of it and in ways which assure the charism of a community continues on once one --- and even the community itself --- are gone. And yet, I see this courage and love, this faithfulness to the truth that God Alone is Enough in the lives and witness of these two "elders" in my own life.  And now, with shelter in place and this pandemic, we each live this truth in new and demanding ways and as we do in other times. we do so for the sake of our Sisters/Brothers in religion and our sisters and brothers in Christ. I mention all of this to underscore the nature, breadth, and depth, of the wisdom these women bring to my life.

I live as a hermit. My co-delegates assist me in that. I cannot travel to find desert Fathers and Mothers who can speak a Word to me. I cannot travel the lengths and breadths even of Lafayette or the state of California, for instance, to find another monk or nun who can serve me in this way as one might have done (or still do) on Mt Athos. Neither can I get an appointment with my bishop as easily as that -- though yes, of course, if I need one, he is accessible to me. Even so, he is a supervisor and not, in my own life, a spiritual Father (or Mother!) in the sense I am using the terms here;  instead, my delegates serve him and the diocese for this specific purpose. The bottom line is that through the history of eremitical life hermits have been dependent on elders. Even more fundamentally, we are each members of the body of Christ, and none of us can live as though we are unimportant or can exist in isolation from one another. Being members of Christ's Body in this way always witnesses to the fact that only God is sufficient for us because we could not come together as we do unless drawn by the grace of God.

Hermits will always walk the line where community and solitude are inseparably linked. Cenobites  find they cannot live community without significant measures of solitude, hermits find that they cannot live eremitical solitude, much less reach the silence of solitude which is the goal and charism of their lives, without significant assistance of elders who also witness in their own way to the fact that God alone is enough for us. I think of the Trappistines who understand that their own lives are not a balance of solitude and community but entirely one of either/both at the same time --- entirely one of solitude in community and entirely one of community in solitude --- though not eremitical solitude. There is a wisdom in this perspective that one only gains in living the life. Similarly, I think of the Camaldolese who speak of "Living alone together" and capture the same fundamental dynamic but expressed differently in terms of a laura of hermit-monks or semi-eremitical community.

We hermits have to find our way in our life with God. We have to witness to the fact that God alone is sufficient, but so long as we exist in Christ, and so long as the eremitical vocation belongs first of all to the Church, we cannot do this simply by cutting ourselves off completely from others any more than the anchorites (urbani) did who lived their solitude under the bishop's supervision in the midst of the local community with windows opening onto the altar and onto the village/town square. As I have written many times here, eremitical solitude is a unique form of community; this is true because it is a unique way of belonging integrally to the Body of Christ, the Church. The role of the elder in the hermit's life is a concrete embodiment of this complex and profound relatedness-in-solitude.

Once Again on the Requirements of Age and Self-Support for the Diocesan Hermit

[[ Dear Sister, your post on c 603 and bankruptcy brings up the question of hermits who seem unable to provide adequately for themselves, whether that has to do with housing, medical care, or other needs. I wonder what you would say about a hermit who lives in abject poverty, housing which is not sanitary or habitable, or who has inadequate medical insurance. Catholic Hermit  writes all the time about her living conditions and now has gone to live with family, at least temporarily; she also writes about not having adequate medical insurance. How can her diocese allow her to represent a public vocation as you say, "in the name of the Church," and yet seemingly have none of her real needs taken care of or even live in eremitical solitude?]]

I have written fairly recently in response to a similar series of questions. Here is the link to that post: Questions on Catholic Hermit blog and Hermit.  I have not written recently about the need to live in eremitical solitude rather than with one's family, for instance, so perhaps I can say a bit more about that here; the question affects anyone aspiring to be professed as a solitary hermit so it might be important to discuss at this point. Otherwise, please check the link provided and get back to me if you don't find it answers your specific questions.

Some very few dioceses have broken with received wisdom and professed young hermits (in their 20's or early 30's, for instance) who may then live with their families. I think this is a mistake for several reasons. First, the eremitical vocation, but especially the solitary eremitical vocation is generally understood as a second half of life vocation. It requires individuals to have lived a rich and independent life before giving over everything to a life of such unusual community ("living together alone"), depth, and intensity. It takes time to negotiate all the ways God calls us to fullness of life, to achieve true individuation, develop an essentially contemplative prayer life, and then move to the kind of depth of listening contemplative life requires.

We will try many avenues to develop our personal capacities and serve others and usually, only along these various intellectual, psychological, social, professional, and other avenues will we learn to hearken to the deep inner reality which is at the heart of contemplative life. Secondly, eremitical life under c 603 means one lives alone and deals with all the exigencies of solitary (not isolated) life. It is not ordinarily lived in the midst of one's family, and certainly not by someone who has not achieved true adulthood apart from their families. Again, it takes time to learn to live one's faith in community with the kind of maturity, depth, and intensity necessary before one embraces a solitary vocation which is truly sensitive to and responsible for an ecclesial identity.

As I have noted before, Karl Jung once wrote that solitude could be lived by those with significant early experiences that suited them to solitude, but at the same time, these are rare individuals since the experiences we are speaking of wound and are more likely to make the person uniquely unsuited for eremitical solitude (it can isolate and make isolation relatively comfortable, but this is not the same as eremitical solitude). In either case, the person will need to work through the woundedness that leads to various dimensions of isolation and allow the love of God and others to transform these into the conditions for authentic eremitical solitude.

In the main this will happen before one can discover a genuine call to eremitical life; in some cases one will need to continue this work at deeper levels of healing and transformation once she is professed. (Because one commits to  live eremitical solitude or "the silence of solitude" in the name of the Church, diocesan hermits are obligated to undertake the healing work necessary to be sure isolation is transfigured and transformed into eremitical solitude and the quies, or stillness of hesychastic silence.) In any case, those who continue to live at home with their families have not yet lived eremitical solitude, and in my opinion, have not yet discerned nor been sufficiently formed to live eremitical solitude.

Even diocesan hermits can run into situations which make temporary living arrangements with family, friends, convents and monastic communities necessary. These need to be discerned and embraced as truly temporary. If they are made necessary by health problems or finances, a diocese will need to discern with the hermit whether or not she will be able to once again live as a solitary hermit. (Living on the grounds of a monastery is not the same situation; in such communities it is typical that the diocesan hermit lives a significant solitude while being a significant part of the monastic and parish or diocesan community.) After years of living as a solitary hermit it may well be one will need caregivers or be required to live in a care facility (especially where one where other religious and priests retire!) and some degree of healthy solitude can be maintained. In such instances no diocese will dispense the hermit's vows; however, if the hermit is relatively young, has many years before her and is simply incapable of living alone or of supporting herself adequately as a solitary hermit, a diocese may well decide her vows should be dispensed (or never allowed or received in the first place) --- and rightly so I think.

Whether the Church is right in her stance on the self-support of diocesan hermits or not (and in general, I believe she is), those who developed c 603, write about it in an expert and canonical capacity, and who live it in season and out,  understand that living with one's family and being generally incapable of living solitary eremitical life as self-supporting does not allow one to witness to the essence of the eremitical vocation, namely, that God alone is sufficient for us. Only very rarely have bishops departed from received wisdom in this matter and professed the too-young or yet-too-dependent. My sense from these professions is that c 603 is still insufficiently understood or appreciated and esteemed even by some among the hierarchy; as we have greater experience of diocesan eremitical life and through the wisdom gleaned from this experience, educate the Church and others on the nature of this vocation, I believe the situation will change.

RC Hermits vs Episcopal Solitaries, Followup

I have written recently that I had begun to think perhaps Episcopal solitaries were not always identical to Catholic hermits because the term hermit is a richer or at least a much more specific and demanding one than solitary and implies desert living and spirituality. The Rule of an Episcopal Anchorite confirmed this for me but today in response I also received an email from an Anglican solitary living in the UK. signed, ____ ,SCL (single consecrated life) writes:

[[I am an Anglican Consecrated Woman living in the UK (Single Consecrated Life; SCL).  I am sometimes referred to as a "solitary" because I live on my own, but in reality I am more like your Roman Catholic Order of Consecrated Virgins; OCV's.  I work. . . to provide for myself. . . . I was professed in the Single Consecrated Life and I've been in life vows for over 10 years.  My spirituality is Carmelite and when I am not obliged to work or go to Mass I remain in my little "enclosure", my very ordinary house and garden. (Ellipses used to maintain privacy) 

Many of those who are "solitaries" are NOT hermits.  There are quite a few retired professionals who have become SCL's and who like to think they are hermits because they live on state pensions and no longer have to work for their living!  I would say that probably only 1 or 2 out of twenty Anglican "solitaries" are REAL hermits. [These others are] People who go driving round to religious communities, the latest conferences and get-togethers and announcing they are "hermits".........!  ]]

So, many thanks for that response. It helps clarify wonderfully not only why canon 603 spells out the normative requirements of an eremitical life but why I have often commented that a lone pious individual is not necessarily a hermit. Eremitical solitude is a different animal than the solitude of  social isolation or the solitude associated with bereavement, retirement, prison, etc. While these can be transformed or transfigured into eremitical solitude, and while that solitude certainly can build on these, they must not be mistaken for it. Moreover, as a consequence of the original question, I have now been able to read some terminologically confused blogs by Episcopal solitaries who fail to adequately distinguish between being a solitary religious and being a hermit. The Roman Catholic canon 603 does indeed serve to protect a tradition and vocation; it is not merely about professing and consecrating individuals who neither can nor perhaps desire to be part of a Religious Institute. It is about professing solitary hermits, not individuals who desire to simply "do their own thing" for instance.

Questions on Solitude: Both a Universal and a Rare Vocation?

[[Dear Sister, you write about eremitical solitude being a rare vocation. yet you also said that it is the most universal of vocations. So which is it? How is it that human beings can be such social animals and yet you can talk about solitude as a universal call. It sounds confused to me.]]

Three Main Forms of Solitude:

Thanks for your questions. The answer to your, "Which is it?" is not either/or but, as with so many things in Christianity, both/and. Part of what seems confusing is the use of the term solitude. It has a variety of meanings and these can especially differ if one is using it to speak of solitude in a world where the Christian God is real. Three main meanings in particular are important here. I therefore refer in a lot of posts here to physical solitude, existential solitude, and eremitical solitude. In the statement you are referring to I said that solitude itself was the most universal of vocations but it is the call to eremitical solitude which is very rare.

"Solitude" can first of all be used to speak of physical solitude, the state of being physically alone. I think this is often the meaning most folks attribute to the word. A hermit, who distances herself from so much sometimes called "the world" of people and events is certainly usually alone in this sense, but so are many others.

Secondly, "solitude" can be used to speak of the individual' s relationship to the world and its creator in the more existential sense; that is, it can point to the fact that we are each and all of us ultimately alone in this life and isolated from all others despite there being many people in our lives. Theologians speak of one aspect of solitude in this sense as the result of human sinfulness and therefore, as a result of estrangement or alienation from our deepest selves, from God, and so too from others. However, another, more positive side of it is our call to grow as individuals; especially in community we are not spared this call to individuation, this call to stand as integral and independent human beings. Still this existential solitude can be painful for it highlights both our most fundamental potential and deficiency.

Each of us knows this kind of solitude which is most intense when, for instance, we have acted wrongly, we are misunderstood, have been betrayed, feel alone or separate in a crowd, or simply have something too deep, or wonderful, or simply too difficult to share with anyone else; we know it especially when we consider death and the inevitability of dying alone. Even those we love profoundly and by whom we are are loved in the same way cannot entirely relieve us of either the challenge or the burden of this kind of solitude. In fact, the paradox of this kind of solitude --- whether as a call to individuation or as the burden of separateness --- is that it is often set in most vivid relief when we are with and are loved by others. In other words, this form of solitude is both most challenging and most painful because we are made for communion with others but are ultimately separated from them.

There is a third sense however which both includes these first two forms and mitigates the ultimacy of the second meaning. It is the notion of solitude which witnesses to the fact that we are not truly (or ultimately) alone because we are made for and in fact most essentially ARE a relationship with a God who is part of us and will never forget or abandon us. While one part of the paradox of eremitical life is that we are each ultimately alone with this God and called upon to live our lives in light of this foundational "transcendental" of our existence, the other is that this ultimate communion for which we are made is the reason for our community with others. Others, as well as our solitary prayer, mediate the love of God to us and in various ways introduce us to this ultimate form of communion.

Hermits especially, embrace a life of  physical solitude which sharpens our existential solitude so that we may live a contemplative life in the eremitical solitude of conscious communion with our God; the hermit knows this form of solitude as one which encompasses, but also transcends, and finally makes an ultimate sense of the first two senses of the term solitude. Because the hermit knows union with the God who grounds the existence of all creation, she also exists in communion with all those others in some incomplete or proleptic sense. When I have written about this before I have spoken of it as a solitude which redeems isolation and which provides hope to others that their own isolation can be transformed and transfigured, and so forth.

Communion is always implied by solitude and vice versa in human relatedness:

I would ask that you notice in each of these forms of solitude the reality of community exists at least implicitly --- even if it is present as an inescapable longing and potentialilty in loneliness. Similarly, in each experience of community that we know this side of death, there is also separateness we often call "solitude." Both poles are present in every experience of relatedness or unrelatedness we know. (Communion without solitude dissolves into a loss of identity; solitude without communion is isolation. Both are inhuman.) In physical solitude community exists as something from which we are separated for whatever reason. In existential solitude community is something we yearn for, something the memory or promise of which inspires and strengthens us in our aloneness, something to which we look forward to achieving or returning to, etc. The point is that in all human relatedness community exists even in its relative absence just as while in community we stand in a kind of solitude as individuals nonetheless.

Vocations accent either side of the paradox of human solitude/communion:

The Church has a number of vocations each of which highlights a side of our call to community (as you say, our social nature) and our solitary nature as well. Marriage and most forms of Religious life point primarily to the importance of community in coming to human wholeness. Each, however also witness to the fact that ultimately it is the human relationship with God which is of deepest significance. In marriage it is the case that each person is meant to bring the other to union with God; each person mediates the Love of God to the other in ways which allow them to come to human fullness and fruitfulness together. (This is why sexual intercourse is the ultimate symbol of marital love and is open to procreation.) In religious life community exists only to the extent that each Sister or Brother is faithful to prayer and all of the other things required by a solitary relationship with God. Moreover, community empowers faithfulness to this solitary relationship. The Church herself is this kind of reality of course. She is not simply a group of people brought together in some sort of club because of similar interests. She is Church only to the extent each of her members fulfills his or her own vocation to life with God just as she is Church only to the extent she empowers and inspires this. In each of these realities community and solitude exist but the accent in each is on community.

In vocations to eremitical solitude the focus is different. It is on the solitary side of the equation. Most human beings are called to achieve human individuation and wholeness in communion with God through community with others. While hermits have already achieved an essential individuation before becoming (or even seeking to become) hermits (they could not embrace such a vocation otherwise) their growth in human wholeness and holiness occurs in eremitical solitude --- a solitude lived in communion with God for the sake of others. Very few human beings are called to achieve human wholeness and holiness in this way. Even so, they remind all persons of 1) their existential solitude, 2) the foundational communion with God which grounds and completes all human existence, 3) the place of community in even the most solitary of lives, and 4) the possibility of the redemption and reconciliation by and to God of even the most marked isolation or estrangement. At bottom then, this will always be a rare vocation and certainly always much rarer than vocations to marriage and community life.

While this answer may be longer than you expected, it is still quite a simplified presentation of the nature of solitude and especially of eremitical solitude. I hope you find it helpful in answering your question.

Hermits, Blogs, Publicity, and the Dynamic of the Camaldolese "Triplex Bonum"

[[Dear Sister, it still seems to me to be a conflict for a hermit to have a blog. I appreciate that you have reconciled this in your own mind and I understand your diocese is comfortable with it, but isn't this 21st C development out of sync with the history of eremitical life in the Church? Now you are featured in an article in the Saturday Evening Post and it is clear from that article that others have the same questions I do. Not all of them are asking these because they are victims of [believing] stereotypes, are they?]]

Many thanks for these questions. They are significant and point directly at the tension or dynamic that is at the heart of my own life, the life of Camaldolese monks, nuns, and oblates, and I suspect, the life of any truly healthy hermit with a strong sense of the Gospel and their own place in the heart of the Church. I am going to answer all of your questions by referring to the Camaldolese charism and also to the history of Camaldolese life in the Church with special reference to both SS Romuald and Peter Damian. My own sense, and something I have written here and spoken about before on A Nun's Life (In Good Faith podcast), is that this specific charism is profoundly ancient and equally contemporary. It reprises the dynamic which is present for anyone exploring the nature of  --- much less justifying --- a life of "the silence of solitude," and which I personally find especially appropriate and empowering for the life of the diocesan hermit.

First, is this dynamic of an eremitical solitude which also reaches out to others to proclaim the Gospel of God in Christ and the redemptive nature of solitude (because that is what I am concerned with in this blog) out of sync with the history of eremitical life? My answer is no. I can point to three significant historical instances or paradigms of eremitical life here to justify that response: 1) the desert Fathers and Mothers, 2) the anchorites and especially the "urbani" of the medieval period, and 3) the Camaldolese (in particular the Benedictine Camaldolese) and their founders, especially SS Romuald, Peter Damian, and Paul Giustiniani (a Saint at least to the "Order"!). Each of these had a significant degree of interaction with the world around them and for each of them the notion of witness (sometimes called evangelization or martyrdom) was central.

Sister Donald Corcoran, OSB and Dom Robert Hale, OSB Cam

The desert Fathers and Mothers left a too-worldly expression of Church to live Gospel lives in nearby deserts. They were committed to a form of witness now called "white martyrdom" to replace the red martyrdom associated with the persecutions of early Christians. They lived lives of solitude rooted in Gospel values but did so on the margins of society. They modeled agrarian practices for their neighbors, bought and sold (mainly sold!) goods in local markets and are famous for the hospitality they embraced as a central value.  Anyone showing up on their doorstep was welcomed as Christ. They were fed, questions were answered, what we would today call spiritual direction was given, so that in example, word, and deed the Gospel was thus proclaimed and Church was lived out. Did they also live a significant solitude? Of course, but at the heart of their lives was their own negotiation of the very dynamic or tension my own life, for instance, attempts to negotiate and embody.


The medieval anchorites, also called "urbani" because they lived eremitical lives in the midst of towns, villages, and cities, mirror the same dynamic in a different way. Anchorites practice a stricter physical stability because they remained in a single small dwelling and were sometimes even walled into or locked within an anchorhold. However, such anchorholds which were adjacent to a church generally had a window opening onto the altar, another opening onto the main square of the village or city, and a third entrance or window through which food and other necessities could be passed back and forth by those who served the anchorite. Townspeople often stopped to talk with the anchorite; it was the medieval equivalent of a counselling or spiritual direction center. There was danger of abuse and distortion of the life in this, of course, and some Camaldolese writers and others wrote scathing pieces on those who abused the practice of converse with others. Still, the dynamic and the tension were present as an integral part of the life.

Finally there is the Benedictine Camaldolese model of eremitical life and the example of its founders. The Camaldolese live the charism referred to as "triplex bonum" or "the triple good", namely, solitude, communion, and evangelization or martyrdom (witness!). Thus, their lives include each of these in a dynamic tension and they have both monasteries and hermitages as a result. Further, there is a strong component of hospitality involved here while monks will travel and sometimes live apart from the monastery/hermitage in order to accomplish a particular ministry. It is not only that some monks live in monasteries and some live in hermitages. Rather what is true in the Camaldolese life is that, again, each monk or nun lives the dynamic of a solitude rooted in community and issuing in ministry or witness in various ways. (The Monte Corona Camaldolese differ in that they only have hermitages, but I would suggest the same dynamic is present.)

Dom Robert Hale, OSB Cam, assuming role as Prior

Saint Romuald is known for his extensive travels in order to reform monasticism, extend the Rule of Benedict to free-lance hermits, and proclaim the Gospel. His own eremitical identity is sometimes questioned as a result, but the Church does NOT question it, nor do the centuries of monks, nuns, and hermits who followed him as Camaldolese. It is significant that the single piece of writing we have from him is his "Brief Rule" which is probably the most paradigmatic Rule ever written for the eremitical life. In it two elements are especially prevalent: 1) the need to sit silently and patiently in one's cell waiting only on the Lord, and 2) the place of Scripture, especially as source of and impetus for the assiduous prayer of the solitary life. Again, the combination is a form of witness to the Gospel because the life (and ANY Christian life) demands it.

St Peter Damian's life was also not stereotypically or even typically eremitical. He was engaged throughout his life with the reform of the Church and religious life. He was a Cardinal, papal legate, theologian, spiritual director, hermit, writer, etc. He carried on an extensive correspondence with many people to address the needs of his day and there is hardly a pressing topic he did not address with astuteness and flexibility. (His view of the laity, by the way, is also startlingly contemporary for he believed profoundly in the spiritual equality of all, eschewed notions of a spiritual elite, and would have rejoiced at Vatican II's proclamation of "the universal call to holiness" or the council's affirmation of the laity's right and even obligation to criticize the hierarchy [cf Letter 10 to Emperor Henry III].) He struggled with the question of vocation: "Should I be a hermit or a preacher?" His "starting point" regarding either vocation was the Scriptural imperative of extending Christ's salvation to others. Damian was particularly critical of a solitude focused only on saving oneself.

This led directly to the dynamic tension every Christian and certainly every Camaldolese and every diocesan hermit knows well: how do I honor my call to solitude and also carry out my Baptismal commission to proclaim the Gospel of Christ? As a symptom of this tension and much as Thomas Merton anguished nine centuries later, Peter Damian struggled with his vocation as a writer which, because it was so profoundly engaged with the Church and  World on so many issues and levels seemed to threaten his life as hermit-monk; he once said (in a letter to the current Pope), "I would rather weep than write," and he was well aware that his own hermit and monastic life was not the norm. Even so, in the end we regard Peter Damian profoundly and sincerely as a hermit-monk for whom all else was an extension of that call.


So, to return more directly to your own questions, no I do not believe it is a conflict for me to also have a blog. I believe it reflects a well-established dynamic and imperative in the history of eremitical life, namely the dynamic of solitude-community-witness, and the imperative that one proclaims the Gospel so that others might be saved by God in Christ. I do try to make sure that I maintain what is called "custody of the cell" (where cell is both my hermitage, a life of essential solitude, and my own hermit heart). There would be no witness, indeed, no capacity for witness without this; further, it itself IS a witness to the Gospel!! But to be very honest, like Peter Damian, I believe that if eremitical life is not generally constituted or profoundly informed by this dynamic in some substantial way (and this is true even for the complete recluse!), it ceases to be Christian. Remember that before I  had read much about eremitical life, much less before I ever considered becoming a hermit, I thought that at best it was a selfish and wasteful way of life. I certainly could not regard it as truly Christian. It took some reading by hermits (not least, Thomas Merton) and of work on Camaldolese life to convince me otherwise. My reading (and living!!) has continued and I am more convinced than ever that authentic eremitical life involves the dynamic/tension mentioned above and embodied by the Camadolese as the charism or gift-quality defining their lives.

Discerning Canon 603 Life as a Gift of God

[[Sister O'Neal, thank you for answering my questions on profession when one does not really want it.  The lay hermit I was speaking of said that while she didn't believe this was what [Jesus] was calling her to, she would turn in her paperwork and then if it really seemed to be wrong for her, "I can always decline the kind offer of canonical approval, can't I?" It sounds to me like this hermit doesn't understand what is being offered to her or why. Does this happen a lot? Are there hermits out there who feel this way about their vocation? I wonder if a person could really embrace a life of solitude if they did.]]

You are right about the lack of understanding here. To begin with it is very unlikely anyone is "offering to profess" this person given the level of ambivalence and even potential disingenuousness she admits to. In short though, she does not feel called and nothing can be done in the absence of a sincere heart-felt sense of being called. As I have noted before admission to profession is not so much an offer or invitation the Bishop makes (especially not in order to "approve of someone") as it is the way he extends the rights, obligations, essential freedom, and call to the covenantal life of an ecclesial vocation to the person he is also convinced is called by God to this. When the Church admits to profession she mediates this divine call to the person in a formal, definitive, and solemn way and receives the person's definitive response in a way which establishes a sacred covenant marked by vows, structured legally (canonically and by Rule), and supported by all of the relationships the Church recognizes as essential to living such a covenant well and fruitfully. The language of "approval" hardly begins to convey this rich content and has only very limited utility in such a situation; I tend to avoid it while those stressing the supposed status (in the inaccurate sense of prestige) of canonical standing (standing in law) tend to use and misuse it exclusively.

IF a Bishop invited a person to "turn in her paperwork" he has more likely invited her to let him and others take a look at her Rule or Plan of Life, and perhaps, to participate in a serious and mutual discernment process. (No other paperwork is required at this point; in time Sacramental certificates, declarations of nullity if applicable, etc, indicating a person is free to be professed will be required when it seems the person is a suitable candidate --- though the declaration of nullity would be sought immediately because its lack is an impediment to profession and discernment hardly makes sense with such an impediment in place.) During this process, should she (or anyone in such a position) come to be convinced she is NOT called by God to this, she (or anyone in such a position) has a responsibility to notify the chancery and withdraw from the process. I would therefore be very surprised to learn that a situation like the one you referred to EVER really happens and more surprised to hear there is ANY diocesan hermit who feels this way about his/her vocation. (A hermit who decides she has made a mistake in accepting admission to perpetual profession will, after serious consultation, ask to be dispensed from her vows. If the vows are temporary she can (again after serious consultation) either seek a dispensation or decide to continue the discernment appropriate to such vows until they lapse and it is time to apply (petition) for perpetual profession.)

Your next to last question is the most important, and the most interesting one because it raises the prospect of living a life which is contrary to what one truly feels called to when that life is a rare way to achieve human wholeness and holiness anyway. It raises the question of integrity and what it really means to be called by God and to respond to that call with one's whole self. It raises questions about embittered "hermits" who are icons of isolation and misanthropy, but are nothing like hermits in real life --- at least nothing like the hermits who are truly citizens of the Kingdom of God living the incredibly joyful and fulfilling "silence of solitude." For now your questions underscore the kinds of things chanceries watch out for when people come seeking to be hermits under canon 603.

 I think the bottom line must be that the person recognizes canon 603 as a gift of God to the Church and is awed and excited by the sincere sense that she might just be one of the persons who are publicly called and commissioned to live this gift. She will have found that through the grace of God eremitical solitude brings her to a wholeness and holiness she could not achieve as well in other contexts. She will be in love with God but also deeply in love with those he also loves as he loves the hermit.

The silence of solitude she lives will be rich and filled with relationships: first with God, but through God with her parish, friends, other hermits around the world, and those in the diocese more generally. If she has a blog there will be friends from there as well though there may be very little contact. For some very few hermits there will be a call to reclusion; for one of these her love for others will be mediated only through her love for and relationship with God. Every genuine hermit is open to this possibility and to growing towards it. Again though, what one will note in such hermits and all canon 603 hermits is a sense of awe, responsibility, and great joy at being called to live publicly committed lives which continue the tradition of the Desert Fathers and Mothers in the contemporary Church. It really is an awesome thing to be called to love and serve God and others in this way.

Post script: Sorry, I didn't answer your last question explicitly so let me come back to that. Would someone be able to embrace a life of [eremitical] solitude if they felt they were not really called to it by God [or felt this call deep within themselves]? I can't see how. One wonders how people live any life if they feel profoundly that God has not called them to it. I would imagine a sense of resignation and quiet desperation would accompany much of such a life. But with solitude where the heart of the vocation is communion with God, and where often or for much of the time the only relationship one experiences directly is that one has with God it would be very much more problematical to try and live such a life.

This would be complicated by the fact that God calls us to serve others with our lives and such a person would also be missing the way God is calling them in particular to serve others. The examples I have seen of those trying to live in such a way (and I have seen at least a couple)  turn God into a source of monstrous theology and make of their own lives one of unrelenting suffering and victimhood. These are dressed up in pious language of course, but the combination is pathological on every level and the result is extremely sad and destructive, to say the least.