Witnessing to Hiddenness, Both Inner and External Forms

[[Hi Sister Laurel, so when the catechism speaks of hermits being hidden from the eyes of men, are you saying this is not about being anonymous, or not wearing a habit, or not using the title Sister or Brother, for example? What I hear you saying is that eremitical hiddenness is about the inner and ordinary nature of the hermit's journey to deeper union with God. No one can look in at this journey; it is always a hidden part of a human being's life. I wonder, though, if there isn't some degree of external hiddenness from others. Are you saying that there is no hiddenness except for the inner journey the hermit makes to God?]]

Great question!! Important too, since the Catechism of the Catholic Church refers to the hermit's life being hidden from the eyes of men, not just the hermit's work or ministry. Yes, you have pretty well captured what I am saying. Still, let's look at the statement of the Catechism re hermits and see what it actually says, especially in paragraph 921: [[[Hermits] manifest to everyone the interior aspect of the mystery of the Church, that is, personal intimacy with Christ. Hidden from the eyes of men, the life of the hermit is a silent preaching of the Lord, to whom he has surrendered his life simply because he is everything to him. Here is a particular call to find in the desert, in the thick of spiritual battle, the glory of the Crucified One.]]

The first thing I want to point out is that hermits' lives manifest something to others. That is, in their everyday way of being, they make something known that others might not be able to see so well via other vocations. That something is the interior aspect of the mystery of the Church and of the human person. So, right off the bat, we have the notion that something is hidden (or interior at this point in the text) and also that it is made universally known. Hermits are called to make the inner life of the Church, consisting in intimacy with Christ, manifest in a very specific and unusual way (I argue this way is most accurately defined as paradoxical), and they do this for the sake of everyone, not merely for a limited or elitist few.  

The paragraph goes on to describe another way of thinking about the inner or interior life of the Church, namely, as personal intimacy with Christ. Here is the real key to understanding the hiddenness of the hermit's life. It is about intimacy with the Risen Christ, and with the words "silent preaching," we are introduced explicitly to the paradoxical nature of making such a hidden reality manifest. Hermits' lives are all about the journey to ever deeper union with God in Christ, just as Jesus' life was about this same journey or pilgrimage through all the exigencies of a life and death burdened and shaped by human -- though not by personal -- sinfulness. Luke describes this journey as one where Jesus grew in grace and stature, and other NT writers describe the journey as one of, "being about his Father's business" and traveling from the heights of blessedness and divine intimacy to the depths and horror of apparent abandonment by God. Even so, in all of this Jesus' life is a pilgrimage to the depths of human existence and relatedness that we identify as union with God.

We all read the Scriptures as assiduously as we can, and the truth is, we are often struck by how little of Jesus' own journey we can truly know or how little of the nature of his pilgrimage to God we  comprehend. (Huge historical quests and theological debates have focused on this and related questions during the 19th, 20th, and into the 21st centuries.) This inner life and journey is a hidden reality, and Jesus himself, though a public figure with a strikingly public vocation, remains essentially obscure to us. 

So it is with the inner life of anyone we know, no matter how well we know them. However, with regard to hermits and paragraph 921 of the Catechism, it is important to recognize that the Church uses this paragraph, not merely to assert the fact of essential hiddenness associated with the hermit vocation, especially when hiddenness is mistaken by some to imply external isolation or remaining entirely anonymous or unknown to others, but rather to explain the nature of that hiddenness and the paradoxical forms of relatedness it requires or in which it is rooted and flourishes.

I believe it is true that large parts of the hermit's life, besides their inner life, will be hidden from others, though I also believe that apart from more ordinary requirements of privacy, this is really because the whole of the hermit's life is about growing in intimacy with God in the "silence of solitude". This requires more silence and solitude than most people experience or require. However, even those parts of the hermit's life that are public (in the common, not canonical sense of this word) and observable will remain obscure because they are motivated and colored by dedication to this inner relationship. The experience that corresponds to such hiddenness and that hermits may describe to others (especially directors and one another) is the sense that their vocation is not truly understood by anyone except those whose life commitments are similar. Even then, there will be a core of undisclosable truth which cannot be known by others --- just as is true regarding the inner life and personal mystery of any human being. 

So, no, I don't deny there are significant degrees of external "hiddenness" from others in a hermit's life. What I assert and know from experience is that these are always secondary to the inner mystery and obscurity to which this vocation is dedicated. They must reflect and serve this inner mystery, which is always primary. One makes a serious misstep if one primarily identifies the hiddenness of the eremitical vocation with externals like anonymity or a refusal to relate to others, especially if one absolutizes these as though they are what this vocation is all about. At the same time, it should be noted that some externals can also make manifest something of the fact and nature of this inner mystery and journey. Thus, besides the relative lack of active ministry, for instance, the Church celebrates such vocations publicly, and grants hermits permission to wear habits and prayer garments, style themselves as Sister or Brother, use post-nominal initials, and so forth. 

While some folks may believe these things are clearly and completely understood, my own sense is that in our contemporary world, they themselves are mysterious and point to something countercultural and even more profoundly mysterious, grounded in the Ineffable. In any case, I would argue that because c 603's focus is on mirroring (revealing) the inner nature of the Church and the exhaustive incarnational journey of the hermit doing so, and because such external elements have the power to point beyond themselves to Divine Mystery, there is a wisdom in the fact that c 603 does not require or even invite anonymity, that it involves public profession and consecration, and that it grants the use of visible signs of one's consecration. These are always balanced by the completely ordinary dimensions of the hermit's life, which also have a significant, if paradoxical, sign value. Even so, they have a place, and it has nothing to do (as some will argue) with self-aggrandizement or violations of eremitical hiddenness.

On Eremitical Hiddenness: Witnessing to the Journey to Deeper Union with God

[[Hi Sister Laurel, I wondered what it is that hermits witness to, especially since they live in solitude. Do hermits witness with the hiddenness of their lives? I think you have said something like that and it sounds nonsensical to me. At least I don't get it! I mean how can someone witness to something with the hiddenness of their life? (I guess if they are witnessing to hiddenness, then they do that with hiddenness, but that seems really silly to me.) But really, what is it hermits are most concerned with witnessing to? Do you do this in your solitude?]]

Thanks for your questions. Sometimes the paradoxes involved in Christianity seem silly or absurd, at least initially. I definitely understand that. Imagine trying to explain to someone without a sense of paradox how it is that "power is made perfect in weakness" (2 Cor 12:9) without that leading to some kind of oppressive and dehumanizing dynamic between the weak and the powerful in the equation or relationship! Or, imagine trying to tell some folks that poverty is really a form of wealth essential to human wholeness. Understanding the truth and wisdom of such assertions requires a sense of paradox, an ability to think in terms of paradox, and the ability to live at peace with and even in it. This is so because human existence is paradoxical, and paradoxes like these are some of the most important truths we are asked to grasp and, more importantly, allow ourselves to be grasped by. (At the top of the "paradox food chain," we Christians live from the conviction that a crucified Messiah is not only NOT the height of failure, literal godlessness, and offensiveness to Divine holiness, but is instead the epitome of human integrity, commitment to meaningful life, and the glorification of a loving, merciful God.) 

At the heart of our lives,  our Christian faith and vocations, is the absolute Mystery that (or who) we cannot comprehend in the way we might other realities we know. This is Mystery that we must allow ourselves to be known by instead (cf Galatians 4:8-11). Similarly, then, the paradox of witnessing to something precisely in the hiddenness of our lives represents a profound truth that hermits allow to take hold of them more deeply, and to define their lives and vocations more and more fully and completely. So, what is it hermits witness to, and why does this happen in hiddenness? To sharpen your questions somewhat, I might also ask why it is that the real heart of an eremitical journey can never be seen by others, even when it is something a hermit witnesses to with her life? Why is it that authentic hermits affirm that no one outside this vocation can really understand it? Why doesn't the Church require anonymity from her c 603 hermits, and why does she mark them and their vocations out in the various ways she does as something to be esteemed? Or, in other words, what is the Mystery the Church so regards that stands at the heart of the eremitical vocation that requires the paradoxical description, "revealed in hiddenness"?

In the past year or so, I have written more directly about the journey or pilgrimage hermits make to union with God, or, (probably a better way of describing this journey) toward deeper union with God. I say this is the better way of describing this because in our deepest self, we are already united with God, and our pilgrimage is one we make toward not only that deepest self, but the God who is its ground and source. To speak of human beings as sinful is to affirm we are estranged from that deepest self as well as from God (and from the rest of God's creation). The hermit commits to spending her life in pilgrimage to recover and live this profound truth that stands at the heart of her being. As she does this, she gradually brings all that she has experienced and all that she is to God so that her whole self may be redeemed by God's love. This is the inner journey no one sees, the journey no one can see. It is the pilgrimage that is always only partly clear to the hermit herself, the obscure but compelling journey she undertakes in faith and response to the often profoundly mysterious call of God into Mystery itself. And, of course, it is the heart of the eremitical journey, the only thing that could possibly make sense of its solitude and other forms of asceticism, its turn from much of God's good creation and its essential renunciation (or at least the relativization) of active ministry in visible service to others and to the Church.

While it is true that the hermit witnesses to hiddenness, she only does so secondarily. What comes first is the journey itself. It is a necessarily hidden journey into the depths of human yearning and fulfillment. The same can be said for a hermit's service of God, others, the Church, and this vocation. The hermit who lives her vocation well certainly serves all of these. Her life is, avowedly, a life of service. However, it is only this insofar as it puts the hidden journey to deeper union with God first. Service to others is not unimportant in the eremitical vocation; at the same time, it is an obscure service, often neither seen nor understood by others, because its heart is the mysterious inner journey no one can see or comprehend except analogously in light of their own inner pilgrimage to redemption and deeper union with God. 

When the Church discerns the presence of eremitical vocations in myself or others, what it is looking for are signs that the person is seeking God and is capable of committing their life to this specific quest as primary and definitive. That is, it and the yearning that underlies it must come before everything else and define every dimension of the hermit's life. Additionally, the church looks to see if the person is able and committed to making this pilgrimage in and to "the silence of solitude" for the sake of the Gospel and in the name of the Church. Because the journey to deeper union with God involves the healing and redemption of the whole person, the overcoming of the estrangement of sin and growth in genuine holiness, there will be signs that such persons have turned, and continue to turn more profoundly and completely, from that which is resistant or opposed to Christ (i.e., what is often unhelpfully called "the world") and have allowed themselves to be embraced by the God of life, love, selflessness, and grace. Such a vocation is a microcosm of the foundational vocation of the Church itself, and it summarizes the nature of human existence as well. (Cf Ponam In Deserto Viam, paragraph 15 and the Catechism of the Catholic Church, pars 920-21) Again, it is a hidden reality --- though it bears witness to itself in the fruit associated with it. 

When Thomas Merton spoke of this foundational calling, he referred to the primary responsibility of the hermit:  [[. . . to live happily without affectation in his solitude.]] Merton continued, [[(the Hermit) owes this not only to himself but to his community that has gone so far as to give him a chance to live it out. . . . this is the chief obligation of the . . .hermit because, as I said above, it can restore to others their faith in certain latent possibilities of nature and of grace.]] (Contemplation in a World of Action, p. 242) And here, in the reference to "certain latent possibilities of nature and grace", we also see what the hermit witnesses to, namely, the potential of each and every human life to reveal the essential unity that exists between God and the human person, that is, the essential relationship that makes a human being truly human. Hermits seek deeper union with God not only because Emmanuel (God With Us) is who God is and wills to be, but because Emmanuel also defines the nature of truly human existence. 

Merton described the hermit's pilgrimage as one of a profound seeking and exploration of Mystery that can only be done in hiddenness. Because this solitude is universal (all persons exist as made for God and estranged from God at the same time), some persons are called to witness to the pilgrimage every person is meant to make so that hope may triumph over despair in every life. As I have noted before, Merton writes, [[My brother, perhaps in my solitude I have become, as it were, an explorer for you, a searcher in realms which you are not able to visit -- except perhaps in the company of your psychologist. I have been summoned to explore a desert area of man's heart in which explanations no longer suffice, and in which one learns that only experience counts. An arid, rocky, dark land of the soul, sometimes illuminated by strange fires which men fear and peopled by spectres which men studiously avoid except in their nightmares. And in this area I have learned that one cannot truly know hope unless he has found out how like despair hope is.]] (The Monastic Journey, pages 169-173, section published posthumously)

And here is a central clue as to why the Church esteems eremitical vocations today. In their rarity, these vocations represent calls to authentic humanity that are lived out for the sake of others and the Gospel of Jesus Christ. They witness to the universal call to union with God, and they do so with a directness and salience other vocations lack. (In saying this, I do not mean to denigrate the rich witness of other vocations that also depend upon degrees of union with God for their fruitfulness. However, it seems to me that eremitical life cannot be justified in any other way, except in terms of the universal yearning for and call to union with God, not in terms of active ministry, education, social service, pastoral ministry, direct service to the poor, etc.) Eremitical life is ALL about the mysterious hidden journey every human person is called to make to deeper union with God, and to be who we are in light of that journey with, to, and into ultimate Mystery. Rich or poor, educated or uneducated, powerful or powerless, celebrated or shrouded in obscurity, every person has been uniquely gifted with this same precious identity and calling.

In (perhaps) the most direct or dedicated way possible, where contemplative lives prioritize being over doing, eremitical life witnesses to the solitary call to be truly human in and with God by allowing God to be God With Us as completely as God wills. If one wants to understand what hermits DO with their lives, what it is that makes their lives so valuable to the Church and world, perhaps the best answer is that they are persons who are singularly focused on learning to BE themselves and to let God be God. In hermits, we find an unambiguous exemplar of ordinary human life given over to union with God and leading in its own way to the healing and fulfillment of reality that can only occur in communion with the Divine. Hermits witness to this profound and foundational giftedness and task, even when so many of their discrete gifts remain (and must remain) relatively unused, undeveloped, or relinquished entirely. Moreover, it is in the complete ordinariness and inner nature of this incarnational journey that the profoundly purposeful hiddenness of eremitical life is revealed (made known and made real in space and time). It is an incredible and divinely authored paradox that reminds us of all the other paradoxes that are so central to Christianity!! In and with Christ, in the power of the Spirit, this is who the hermit is called to be.

I hope this response is helpful. As always, if it raises more questions or fails to respond adequately to others, please get back to me, and I will revisit these.

More on Discernment and the Long Journey to Union with God

[[Sister Laurel, if the eremitical vocation is about the journey to union with God, how is it that someone can know they are called to this when they are relatively young? Did you know this was what you were called to when you read c 603 for the first time? It seems to me that either a diocese has to be really patient and willing to take a risk with someone, or the person has to have made a long journey before contacting their diocese to request profession and consecration. The first problem with this is, what diocese has the patience to wait as long as needed to discern a solitary eremitical vocation with someone? The second problem is how does a person subordinate everything else in their life for the journey you have described?. . . ]]

Thanks for your questions and for the comments I have not included above. There are several bits of wisdom that speak to these, so let me mention them here. The first is that eremitical life, but especially solitary eremitical life, I think, is generally seen as a second half of life vocation. In the history of the vocation, whether Christian hermits or those from other traditions (those is China or other parts of Asia, for instance), the hermit life is embraced after one has lived a full life, and often, raised families, had a career, perhaps struggled in a variety of ways, and come to know themselves and their own deepest yearnings and potentials more clearly. A specific (and privileged) form of this kind of pattern involves the movement from active ministry to contemplative life, and then to a life of even greater solitude as one comes to be aware that God is calling them to union with Godself. There is a sense in such lives that one has met life head-on and lived each stage of it as fully and as well as one could, and now, there is both the freedom and the yearning for an adventure into even greater love and wisdom as one says yes to a more direct and demanding relationship with the greatest Mystery that is God.

Some, I think, will discover this call earlier than most, and among these will be those who suffer from chronic illness or, perhaps, forms of trauma that raise the questions of the possibility of meaningful existence and personal wholeness and holiness with existential urgency. Karl Jung once noted that some people with certain kinds of experiences -- like the ones mentioned -- are wiser than their years and become suited to ask the profound questions some folks only ask at the end of their lives. I do believe that the urgency with which I encountered and posed the questions of being and meaning in my own life was a sign that I was called, first, to do theology and then, to solitary eremitical life earlier than most. I believe one of the reasons many c 603 hermits I know or know of have chronic illnesses is precisely because these conditions raise certain existential questions and longings with a particular vividness and urgency. The result can be a serious existential search for the Face of God and all that a relationship with God promises in terms of fullness of life, holiness, and meaningfulness. In either situation, the eremitical journey towards union with God requires a "long" and profound background of solitary seeking, struggle, discernment, and formation.  The general insight that this vocation is a "second half of life" vocation holds true in either situation.

The second bit of wisdom that must be recognized is that solitude in eremitical life is never merely, or even mostly, about physical isolation. In fact, eremitical (and monastic) solitude is the redemption of isolation that is achieved in deep relationship, first with God, then with oneself, and finally with others. Eremitical solitude is about being alone with and for the sake of God, one's truest self, and the needs of the Church and God's entire creation. The Camaldolese identify this vocation with "the privilege of love," and recognize that at the heart of all human life, longing, and struggle, what is most profoundly true and meant to be fully realized in any life is the following motto re life with God: "Ego vobis, vos mihi". I am yours, and you are mine. Once one comes to understand the truth of this saying, eremitical solitude can never be defined in terms of isolation, misanthropy, or a selfish and individualistic quest for personal piety and an alienating "holiness". (Real holiness is, of course, something vastly different!) And of course, the journey to this awareness also takes time.

If dioceses take these two bits of traditional wisdom seriously, it will help in truly discerning c 603 vocations and their stages of readiness for profession and consecration. However, yes, you are entirely correct that more is needed from dioceses that wish to implement c 603 wisely.  You said, [[It seems to me that either a diocese has to be really patient and willing to take a risk with someone, or the person has to have made a long journey before contacting their diocese to request profession and consecration.]] I believe both things are true. The person must have made a relatively long journey before contacting a diocese with the request to be professed under c 603 AND the diocese must be patient in a process of mutual discernment and formation that assists the person making their petition to truly know the way God is calling them, and to prepare for the necessary stages of commitment if they (both) find the person is called to c 603 eremitical life.

C 603 provides no timelines. Nor does it need to. What it does provide is a list of constituent elements the person must be living and the requirement that they write a Rule of Life rooted in their own experience and sense of the way God is working in their life. The process of writing such a Rule demonstrating one's understanding and existential knowledge of these constituent elements, a Rule that is in touch with and reflects the Holy Spirit and the way she speaks to the person each and every day, and the way the person lives her life as part of a long and diverse eremitical tradition and now proposes and petitions to be allowed to do so in an ecclesial vocation, takes time, experience, research, conversations with mentors and diocesan staff, and so forth. Dioceses, as I have written before, often treat the writing of the Rule as the simplest requirement in the canon. Not so. It is a formative process from which the maturing hermit and the diocese will learn about this vocation and the candidate for profession. It is a process which can guide discernment and formation both, and, so long as it is clear the candidate is growing and maturing in this vocation, it takes as long as it takes. There is no need for arbitrary canonical time frames, limits, or requirements. This is one place the wisdom that life, in this case eremitical life, is about the journey, not the destination, carries real weight.

Now, for your other questions. Because of what I have already written, I don't know if a young person can truly know they are called to be a hermit. Maybe it would be more accurate to say that I doubt young people can be clearly aware of such a calling. The journey requires a certain kind of foundation if it is to be truly discerned. Thus, again, it is generally understood to be a second half of life vocation. When I first read c 603 (a few months after the new Code had been published), I had a sense that my entire life could make sense within the framework outlined in the canon. That meant giftedness, limitations, illness, education, background in theology and religious life, etc., etc. Over time, this translated into a sense that I could live the truth of my deepest self in communion with God in this specific way, but that awareness and an ability to articulate what had begun as a relatively vague sense of meaningfulness took time to develop. 

It also took the assistance of my spiritual director, delegate, and vocation personnel. Mutual discernment is not only important because this vocation is an ecclesial one that belongs to the Church before it belongs to the individual whom God (through God's Church) calls to profession and consecration, but because it is only over time that one can see more clearly what begins as a more or less inchoate sense that one might well be called, for example, to be a hermit. Conversations, mutual prayer, the way experienced formators can and do challenge us to grow as human beings and thus, too, to come to greater and deeper clarity regarding the way God is working in our life, are absolutely essential in one's coming to clarity about something so profoundly mysterious as a divine vocation.  I don't know anyone who simply receives the equivalent of a text message out of the blue from God saying, "I want you to be a hermit"!! I should also say that I would be unlikely to trust the person's sense of self or vocation if that were the way it supposedly came to them anyway!

Your last question is a challenging one, and it also underscores the reason eremitical vocations require time for discernment and formation. You asked, [[how does a person subordinate everything else in their life for the journey you have described?]] I am struck, because of your question, both by the extraordinary nature of the journey to union with God I have described, and also how completely ordinary and normal it is. You see, I am aware that in describing a call to active ministry (and this could certainly include marriage and raising a family) which can develop into a call to contemplative life with greater degrees of solitude, and finally, to a call to even greater solitude and union with God, I might also be describing what happens with some people as they move from serving God and others in the more usual ways this happens in every life, to what happens once the children are grown, or perhaps after retirement from  a career when there is greater leisure to pursue one's relationship with God and to live greater solitude, and then too, when one reaches old age and not only begins losing friends and loved ones to death, but is marked with increasing frailty and illness and the questions of being and meaning are very urgent indeed!!

Every person God has created is called to union with God. Every single person is called to develop a contemplative prayer life where one can, in Christ, truly rest in God and, as a result, can witness to the Risen Christ and God's merciful, loving will to be Emmanuel. From a Christian perspective, this intimacy with God is the heart of what it means to be truly human. Some relatively few persons will live the dynamics of this call to authentic humanity in paradigmatic ways as contemplative religious, and even fewer will do so as hermits, but it would be a critical error to believe that only some are called to divine intimacy and union with God. Here is where it becomes absolutely critical that we understand that every calling, every sphere or dimension of human life, every circumstance, can reveal God to us and provide ways of relating to God. We are used to divvying reality up into the sacred and the profane, as though God can be found in the sacred but not the secular or profane. This way of dividing reality and limiting God is precisely what God overcame in the Christ Event and the incarnation of the Word.

So, while I accept that a vocation focused on the journey to union with God is an extraordinary thing, I also recognize that it is the most profoundly human journey every person is called to make. Wherever human beings seek out love or express and extend love to others, whenever they seek to know and express or act in truth, or do something similar with beauty or meaning or existence, whenever they attempt to explore and even push the limits of these things, they are involved in the journey monastics identify as "seeking God".  What contemplatives, including hermits, say to others is that there is a ground and source of all of this seeking and sharing and celebrating we human beings do in the arts, sciences, relationships, and human activity of every sort, which we know as God. We try to say "feel free to seek as deeply and expansively as you feel called to, because the existence of God makes that possible as the very essence of what it means to be human." When this is the case, subordinating everything to make the journey to union with God in whatever way God speaks most clearly to one is the most natural thing in the world!

I hope you will accept this as the beginning of a response to your questions, especially the latter two. I need to think about them a bit more and try to pull together my thoughts in a way that might be more helpful. I still need to respond to your questions regarding dioceses taking risks and requiring patience. As always, if this response raises more questions or is unclear in some way, please get back to me, and I will try to improve upon things!!

On Becoming the Hermit I am Called to Be

[[Sister Laurel, is it really possible for you to make the inner journey you speak of in terms of existential solitude while part of a parish, writing this blog, and doing spiritual direction? I wondered if the solitude lived by hermits can allow for such activity. Are you familiar with the idea that hermits should exist apart from the temporal world and the Church, and still be a model for them? I wondered what you thought of that idea.]]

Your questions at first struck me as difficult to respond to. That is because I am doing those things you are questioning and I am sharing about it here. So, why wouldn't I believe that these are all possible? What I write here is rooted in my own experience and my own reflection on and analysis of that experience, even when I don't share the details of all of that. Not every hermit will write about this journey, or analyze and reflect on it in the same way, but every authentic hermit will make this inner journey with and into God, different as it may look from one of us to the next. I came to eremitical life with a theological background, what had grown to be an interest in "chronic illness as vocation", and a personal background that made the exploration of existential solitude particularly meaningful, especially if it witnesses to the richness of eremitical life beyond the common and narrow stereotypes that still plague the vocation through the agency of antisocial loners and misanthropes. 

Guided by Stereotypes:

While a lot may have changed since the publication of Canon 603, I have the sense that most folks today are still guided by stereotypes in their understanding of this vocation. (I am not referring to you here, I don't know you at all!) Some have a knee-jerk reaction to anything that does not comport with those stereotypes, and reject such hermits out of hand without even giving c 603 life a hearing. But eremitical life has never been so univocal as that, and in every age and culture, eremites have been pioneers witnessing to the significance of the inner journey with, to, and for God's own sake in ways reflecting the diversity of these cultures and ages and the infinite potential and richness of a life lived in and from God. Sometimes, instead of stereotypes, people judge the eremitical life from external characteristics alone: Does the person live strictly alone or in a colony of hermits (or even in a house with one other person)? If in a colony or in a house with anyone else, then some say they can't really be considered hermits. Do they wear habits or not? If so, then they can't be considered hermits because they are not living lives "hidden from the eyes of men". Do they remain anonymous? If not, then again, they are not really hermits. How about their dwelling and church activity? If they live in a quiet apartment or are an integral part of their parish community of faith, and do not reside in a lonely place in the desert apart from a parish community, then they can't really be hermits, etc. Both solitude and an eremitical life of the "silence of solitude" are much richer, more diverse, and much more significant for every person than most narrow stereotypical understandings or those measured merely in terms of externals allow for.

Of course, all eremitical lives reveal commonalities and some elements are sine qua non if one wants to live an eremitical life authentically. I once described these as the ridges and whorls making up any fingerprint, despite the meaningful differences from one print to the next. Canon 603 lists these constitutive ridges and whorls as follows: stricter separation from the world, the silence of solitude, assiduous prayer and penance, profession of the evangelical counsels, a personal Rule of Life written by the hermit herself, all lived for the sake of the salvation of others and under the supervision of the diocesan Bishop. Each of us diocesan hermits lives ever more deeply into these elements, and we come to know by paying attention to the Holy Spirit that each one provides a doorway into a world wider and richer than anything we could have imagined.

Surprised by the Real Vocation:

For instance, when I was first reading about eremitical solitude, I could not have guessed that in its aloneness with God, it was a unique and rare form of community, nor could I have guessed it had to do with the redemption of isolation and alienation rather than their glorification or canonization! Similarly, I could not have imagined that the term "the world" refers not simply to the larger world outside the hermitage door, but instead,  to that which is resistant to Christ, though especially and primarily, that reality within one's own heart that represents the most pernicious and overlooked instance of this "world". Neither could I have suspected that parish life would present me with innumerable instances of instruction in learning to love and be loved by others as Christ loved --- all critical to someone presuming to live a genuinely solitary contemplative life! Finally, I could not have even begun to suspect that my own brokenness would provide the fertile ground for a flowering of God's love in a way that allowed me to journey into the shadow of death and despair and find there the source of all hope, wholeness, and holiness. It was in this journey that hiddenness, stricter separation from the world, and the silence of solitude all came together as c 603, I believe, well understands. Underlying all of this, I could not have seen that the theology I did (both undergraduate, graduate, and post graduate), prepared me incredibly well for the paradox, not only of the Christ Event that stands at the heart of my faith, but of the eremitical life itself, where solitude means a profound engagement with God on behalf of others and entails a careful engagement with others on God's behalf. 

Learning to be the Hermit I am Called to be:

When I began living this life, I had certain ideas about what being a hermit meant, just as you have. There were tensions between those beliefs and the ways I felt called by God to be true to myself and to God. What was ironic was that moving more deeply into eremitical life was made possible within and through those tensions. For instance, I thought solitude meant living apart from a parish community. Over time, however, I discovered that the time I spent engaging with others as part of and on behalf of parish life, also drew me more deeply into my solitary life with God. I chose to teach Scripture to a parish community (and to some who join us from outside it), and in the process found that my time in solitude was more and more fruitfully centered in Scripture. My prayer was richer, the inner work I undertook in spiritual direction was even better supported, and my life with others was both appropriately limited and more intimate and loving. 

Also important was the reading I did, and the people I had conversations with on eremitical life. Beyond this, I continued working with my director, and in all of this, the question of whether I was still called to be a hermit was at least implicit. We explored the tensions I experienced, discerned how I could be true to myself and faithful to God and this vocation, and time and again, what became freshly clear was that I was following my path to and with God and could trust that. As my inner journey became deeper, sometimes more demanding, and ever more fruitful, the truth of my call was reaffirmed many times over, and this inner journey became clearly identified with the vocation's hiddenness. (Because my vocation is also a public one (one of those tensions I mentioned), I rejected superficial definitions of hiddenness associated with anonymity.) Discernment was ongoing; nothing about the way I live this vocation went unexamined, and was examined again whenever circumstances changed, or tensions occurred or increased. Eventually, what became entirely clear to me was something I had glimpsed early on, namely, I am a hermit embodying a life defined by c 603; so long as I live my life with integrity and faithfulness to God, I will remain a hermit.

Same Ridges and Whorls, Unique Fingerprints: 

This does not mean anything goes, of course, nor does it mean that I myself am the measure of the meaning of the constitutive elements of c 603. It means I must continue discerning what is right for me and, along with the Church, my sense of this ecclesial vocation according to the way God calls me to wholeness and holiness. I have done that since 1983 and will continue to do so in all of the ways that are helpful and necessary. Absolutely, I will need to let go of preconceived and possibly anachronistic notions of what constitutes eremitical life, and I will continue to revise the way I live the normative elements as circumstances and maturation in my inner life necessitates. Again, the constitutive elements of c 603 are not words with a single, fairly superficial meaning, but instead are doorways into rich, multi-layered realms the hermit explores as part of her commitment to God and to God's Church, and, in fact, to God's entire creation in eremitical life.

Every hermit I know lives this life at least somewhat differently from every other hermit. Yes, there are the same ridges and whorls, the same constitutive elements as those made normative in c 603, but the way each of us embodies these ridges and whorls, our unique eremitical fingerprints themselves, will differ one from another. The activities you ask about help empower and give shape to my solitary exploration of C 603 in God. Should any one of them begin to detract or distract me from this journey, then I will let go of it.

Living in the World Without Being of the World:

I have to say your question about living apart from the temporal world does not make sense to me. I am temporal, that is, I live in space and time. I am an embodied, historical being. That is what it means to be human. Yes, I am also empowered by the Holy Spirit to transcend space and time in some ways, but I am neither atemporal nor ahistorical, nor can I be. One dimension of my vocation is to allow God's will to be Emmanuel (God With us) to be realized ever more fully in and through my life. Another overlapping dimension of my vocation is to allow God to make me into someone who is prepared to be wholly united with God in a "new heaven and a new earth". A third dimension of my vocation is to assist others in committing to and living from and with that same God, His Gospel, and the New Creation, of which Jesus is the firstfruits (1Cor 15:23). Hermits embody the truth of Jesus' charge to every Christian to be in the world but not of it. I am committed to that goal, but I cannot do it by abandoning my own historical (spatio-temporal) nature. Indeed, given the importance of the Incarnation in revealing both God's unconditional, inexhaustible love and the fullest truth of humanity, and given my own place as a sharer in that mission of Jesus, how would I even begin to do that? 

Matter or materiality is not contrary to life in God. We believe in bodily resurrection and bodily assumption. We believe that in ways known only to God, embodied reality (whatever that looks like!) has a place in the very life of God because of Jesus' death, resurrection, and ascension. We recognize that when Paul speaks of being a spiritual being or a fleshly being, he is speaking of the dimension of reality that defines us so that being spiritual means the whole person under the power of the Holy Spirit, while being fleshly means the whole person under the power of sin. In either case, we are speaking of being an embodied person. One of the miraculous witnesses of the Eucharist is to the way Jesus, as risen Christ, is wholly and gloriously present in, and at the same time, wholly transcends mere bread and wine. Sometimes I wonder if this is a foretaste not just of heaven, but of the way a glorified reality will ultimately be comprised. After all, when we speak of our ultimate goal, it is of life in and with God, which will also be embodied. The Scriptures remind us that we look forward to a new heaven and earth in which this exhaustive union involves the whole of creation, where the entirety is glorified. (cf, Isaiah 66:22; 65:17, Rev 21:1, 2 Peter 3:13)

On the Importance and Contemporaneity of the Eremitical Vocation (Part 2)

 [[Hi Sister Laurel, I was surprised to find your blog. To be totally honest, I thought that hermits died out a long time ago. It is not that I don't believe someone should be able to go and cut themselves off from the world of relationships if they want to. I believe everyone should be able to do whatever they want so long as no one is hurt, but why would the Catholic Church elevate something like this to the point of consecration? I am sure that most people I know would be quite surprised to find out people choose to live as hermits today, and even more surprised to hear the Catholic Church supports and even celebrates such a choice. After all, the church is about community, and a hermit's life is not, right? So my questions are about whether or not eremitical life is anachronistic. Doesn't it really belong to another time, but not to the 21st Century? Is it meaningful (is it relevant)? Does it have anything to offer the non-hermit (or those who seek to become hermits) besides an escape from everyday difficulties --- if it even does that!? Can eremitical life be justified? Should anyone (you) even try?]]

I sincerely hope the first part of this answer (Importance and Contemporaneity of Eremitical Life) was generally helpful. What I tried to do was to outline the way in which I and the hermits I know or have read regard this vocation and its general importance in the 21C, or any century really. What I would like to say more about here are the questions of this vocation's justifiability and ecclesiality, whether or not it is escapist, and in what senses that word might or definitely does not apply. I also want to say something about the notion of freedom you raise in your questions, and whether hermits cut themselves off from the world, or from the world of relationships, and in what sense those actions are true. Many of these have been addressed in other posts over the years, and I'll try to add some links where I can, but perhaps it will be helpful to write about these again within the context of your basic questions about eremitism's justifiability and contemporary relevance.

I have argued that this vocation is not only not anachronistic, that is, it doesn't only belong to past centuries in terms of relevance, but that it is an important and, in fact, a prophetic vocation for the contemporary Church and world. The Church herself recognized this when, in response to Bishop Remi de Roo's intervention at Vatican II it revised the Code of Canon Law and added canon 603, thus allowing for the first time in universal law, the vocation of the solitary hermit as an ecclesial vocation and call to the consecrated state of life. In your question, you recognized the significance of such a move on the Church's part when you asked why the Catholic Church would raise eremitical life to such a place in the Church's life. 

Bishop de Roo had been the bishop protector for about a dozen hermits in British Columbia. These men had left their various monasteries and accepted laicization after many years in solemn vows because they experienced a call to greater solitude and had to leave their monasteries to follow this call. (Let me be clear; these men were often leaders in their monasteries and were not unhappy with monastic life, their vows, monasteries, or anything of the sort. They simply had experienced a call to greater solitude, and found that this call could not be accommodated under the monastery's own (or proper) law. Eventually, they formed a laura or colony of hermits. Because Bishop de Roo knew these men, their motivations, sensibilities, theologies, and vocations, he eventually wrote an intervention at the Second Vatican Council listing the important positive reasons the church should recognize this vocation as a state of perfection. The reasons he provided in his intervention are listed in, Visibility and Betrayal and at least one earlier blog post in late 2006 or 2007. 

Canon 603 and Ecclesiality:

One way of summarizing all of this history and its meaningfulness, is to point out that c 603 governs a form of life that is ecclesial; that is, it is a form of life that is not only part of the Church's patrimony, but is part of the Church's own holiness and contributes to the Church's health, both generally and specifically in terms of her prayer life, religious life, mission, and ministry. The canonical hermit's life reminds the Church and other religious (especially those in apostolic congregations) that before active ministry there must come a profound relationship with God. It is this relationship that allows the religious man or woman to love others as they ought to be loved in the midst of apostolic ministry. It is also this specific relationship that is mediated along with any other forms of giving that the religious does. The hermit's vocation does the same for cloistered religious and reminds them of the real witness of their lives, namely, a life in community lived for the sake of God and God's place in this world. And of course, the hermit does this for the entire Church, reminding us all that God comes first and can fulfill lives that are not wealthy, powerful, or possessed of much prestige in worldly terms. As I have noted recently, while the hermit may do some limited apostolic ministry, it is the inner journey to union with God that is essential to and definitive for the vocation.

Ecclesial vocations aren't simply lived within the Church; they are also lived for the sake of the Church, that it might truly be the church Jesus calls it to be. Those hermits who accept canonical standing with public vows and consecrations mediated by the local Bishop also embrace this dimension of the eremitical vocation in a public way. Non-canonical hermits live their vocations within the church, but they do not necessarily accept this dimension we call "ecclesiality" in the same way. Canonical eremitism, of course, is not the only ecclesial vocation in the Church, but the emphasis on the inner journey made possible by assiduous prayer, penance, stricter separation from the realm that is resistant to Christ or to Truth, and by the silence of solitude, sets eremitical life somewhat apart from the others, and allows it to emphasize something the others accentuate to a lesser degree or in a different way. As noted in earlier posts, it is the inner journey that allows us to confirm that the Gospel of Jesus' resurrection and God's unconditional Love, from which nothing including sin and godless death can separate us, are real and encounterable today. This allows canonical eremitical life to serve these other vocations and the Church as a whole. When we speak about the relevance or contemporaneity of the hermit today, ecclesiality is an important way of describing this.

Eremitical Life and Freedom:

In your question, you said you believed that anyone should be free to do whatever they felt like, so long as no one was hurt in the process. I believe that is the notion of freedom many people in today's world have. Let me point out that this is not the idea of freedom Christianity understands or embodies. Instead, Christianity defines freedom as the power to be the persons God calls us to be. This, in turn, is made possible by the Holy Spirit and God's unconditional love for us. Hermits live a regular life of prayer and penance, study, lectio, and limited ministry because they live a life focused on their relationship with God and on becoming the persons God calls them to be. One of the most important witnesses the hermit gives others is the fullness of life that is possible whenever God is put first. Some who read here know that one of the persons I have contended with most often over the years is an online self-designated hermit who calls herself a victim soul and writes almost interminably about the suffering she is experiencing. I have sympathy for her, but it is my understanding of eremitical life that it is not about suffering or being what has sometimes been called a victim soul. It is about living life with God. Yes, there will be suffering, just as there is with any life in this world, but eremitism is not a life OF suffering; it is a life of joy, meaning, and fulfillment --- countercultural as each of those actually is.

Canonical hermits (and likely all authentic hermits) are truly free. They are not free to do anything they want, of course. Their lives are constrained by vows involving the main areas of life, including wealth, power, and sex, and still they live lives I recognize as fulfilled because they are full of life, love, and meaning. They live according to a daily schedule, maintaining regularity and balance. They live a stricter separation from "the world," which includes but does not primarily mean separation from much of God's good creation; and yet, they are interested in, committed to, and engaged with that world for the sake of its well-being and the furtherance of God's Kingdom, nonetheless. All of these point to a fundamental freedom the hermit has to live a life as full and meaningful as possible within the framework of a desert context. Freedom, from this perspective, is definitely not about doing whatever one likes so long as no one is hurt. It is about living a responsible freedom where one's life is not only received daily as a gift of God, but also is given daily for God's sake and the sake of all that God loves and holds as precious.

Relationships, Escapism, and Eremitical Engagement:

Most hermits are not recluses, and even recluses in the Catholic Church are only allowed to be so within the context of a loving religious community that provides for such unique vocations. (The last I heard of recluses, only the Camaldolese and the Carthusians were allowed to have recluses. The last Camaldolese recluse I know of died a number of years ago in Big Sur, while the most famous might be Nazarena, a recluse living with the Camaldolese nuns in Rome.) All human beings need to be loved and to love, and for that reason, we all need others in our lives. We hermits say that "God Alone is Enough" for us, and we mean that in two related ways. First, only God is capable of completing us as human beings. Only God is sufficient for this. We are made for God, who is the ground and source of life, love, meaning, truth, beauty, and truly personal existence. Secondly,  our openness to and need for God make us open and responsive to all that mediates God to us in the incredibly varied ways the created world and other beings do that. What this saying does NOT mean is that human beings do not need other human beings, or can become truly human in complete isolation from others. Eremitical life has never meant to affirm such a notion of human being or of the nature of eremitical solitude. 

In my writing on this blog over the past 18 years, I have always drawn a clear line between isolation and solitude. I distinguish these two because one is life-giving and the other can deal death to the human being. I am personally sensitive to the distinction between these two and associate isolation with alienation and forced separation from the community of others. Hermits are more or less physically isolated from others; eremitical solitude requires this in order to spend time with God and the inner journey to healing, wholeness, and holiness we are each called to. However, we are not usually personally isolated from others, though we may not be as social as most people or able to spend much time with the people who are important to us. We are assisted in living this solitude by the Church and her liturgical and sacramental life, by spiritual directors, pastors, members of the larger community of faith, family members, physicians, and many others. I include among this significant group of people, especially other religious, and members of the virtual laura I am part of, as well as those I do spiritual direction with. It is not that I interact with these people every day or even every week or month of my life, but they are all a significant presence, and each one helps to focus my life on the defining relationship with God that makes me who I am and who I am called to be.

You suggested not only that a hermit's life is cut off from the world of relationships, but that it is not about community. I would argue that it is about community, though it is lived in eremitical solitude. In fact, I would argue (and have often done that here) that eremitical solitude is a rare and unique form of community dedicated to building the human family and the community of faith from the most important and original relationship extant, namely, that between the human being with the rest of creation and God. As for escape from everyday difficulties, there is no way c 603 life allows for or encourages that. The (canonical) hermit is self-supporting, publicly responsible, committed to the Church and society, and engaged on their behalf. She lives with the same limitations any other person does and perhaps a few more besides. What is most important to remember about this vocation is that it is identified by the Camaldolese in terms of the Privilege of Love. Indeed, I am not going to run for political office or travel to (or even stay home to do) a job forty hours or more a week, but, because I am called to stricter separation from "the world" in the specialized way c 603 uses that term**, it also means I am committed to God's will for the whole of this larger world. Thus, I stay updated on current events, work to ensure my education remains up to date, and I engage in whatever ways I can within the limits of my state of life to make our world all that God calls it to be.

So, this is the second part of my answer to your question. I hope it clarifies some things and raises more questions for the future. As always, if I have been unclear, please feel free to get back to me with comments and questions. Again, thanks for your questions. I enjoyed thinking about them freshly. I will post this before adding the additional links, so in the meantime, you can look at the list of topics on the right-hand column of the blog for additional information. All my best.

** The Church recognizes that "the world" in the c 603 phrase, stricter separation from the world, refers to that which is resistant to Christ, and not first of all to the larger world we identify with God's good creation. As a result, while the hermit is thus more strictly separated from aspects even of God's good creation, she is also well able to engage with and on behalf of that world within the limits of her state of life.

On the Importance and Contemporaneity of the Eremitical Vocation (Part 1)

[[Hi Sister Laurel, I was surprised to find your blog. To be totally honest, I thought that hermits died out a long time ago. It is not that I don't believe someone should be able to go and cut themselves off from the world of relationships if they want to. I believe everyone should be able to do whatever they want so long as no one is hurt, but why would the Catholic Church elevate something like this to the point of consecration? 

I am sure that most people I know would be quite surprised to find out people choose to live as hermits today, and even more surprised to hear the Catholic Church supports and even celebrates such a choice. After all, the church is about community, and a hermit's life is not, right? So my questions are about whether or not eremitical life is anachronistic. Doesn't it really belong to another time, but not to the 21st Century? Is it meaningful (is it relevant)? Does it have anything to offer the non-hermit (or those who seek to become hermits) besides an escape from everyday difficulties --- if it even does that!? Can eremitical life be justified? Should anyone (you) even try?]]

Thanks for your questions. I once said almost exactly the same thing about hermit life having died out. Similarly, I once thought that contemplative life, more generally, was a "waste of skin." Clearly, I am in a much different place today! In much of what I have written over the past two or three months, for instance, I have tried to maintain a balance between a potentially disedifying focus on personal details and the way my own experience illustrates the more universal meaning and significance of the eremitical vocation in today's Church and world. My own eremitical journey, my own journey with and to God, especially in the inner work required by, and associated with personal growth and healing, is at the center of everything I have written, and what is remarkable to me is the way that experience comports with that of contemplatives, hermits and mystics throughout the centuries. In some ways, that journey is precisely what makes me a contemplative and hermit. The nature of it is what also makes my journey a mystical one

But why is this important? You are correct in posing the question of a hermit being anachronistic (i.e., displaced in time). This is the overarching question posed to contemporary hermits by the 21st Century generally -- both by the Church and the larger world. It is the basic argument I hear reflected in others' questions (and my own as well): "If your vocation is anachronistic, then it is meaningless, irrelevant, and has no place in today's world and Church." Of course, most people never actually say this or ask the question outright. They tend just to look puzzled as I explain I am a consecrated (or a Catholic) hermit, and you can see them trying to work out what I have just said in terms of the church and world they know and understand. Usually, the next question I get after explaining I am a hermit is a disbelieving, "So (pause), what is a hermit?"--- as if the two of us can't possibly be thinking of the same reality, not in today's day and age!! (I can imagine them thinking, "Maybe the meaning of this changed with Vatican II or something!!")

And so, I explain a bit of the history of the hermit life and the establishment of c 603 within that. And I wait for other questions. "What do you do all day?" is usually one of the early ones. "Wouldn't you rather...?" tends to be another, along with, "How many of you are there?" once the conversation actually gets going. And it is a deep hope of mine that such a conversation will get going. After all, if, on the other hand, this vocation is meaningful and has a place in today's Church and world, that means it is meaningful not only for the hermit, but for God, for the Church itself, and for God's larger creation as well." Unfortunately,  most people tend to smile politely and move to other topics. So, I am really grateful you have asked what you have, because as I understand things, it is up to the hermit to explore the eremitical life and these associated questions as we come to a coherent sense of their answers. No one but the hermit can do this in quite the same way!

Most hermits I know firmly believe their vocations are important, not only for what they mean for the hermit him/herself, but for the way they witness to others in our Church and world about really foundational human and societal questions and needs. Merton once wrote that hermits say something fundamental about the relation of nature and grace, and I think he was exactly right. The fundamental truth that human beings are made for God and that God wills to dwell with and within us is the truth Merton was speaking of. He recognized that human beings have a "made-for-God" quality that is rooted in God's own will for creation and for Godself. In other words, human beings are incomplete and less than truly human without God. At the same time, God has chosen to turn to us so that his love might be known and fulfilled in this way. Using an older language to say this, nature is perfected in grace, and grace intends to reveal itself fully, even exhaustively, in nature. 

In a Church where apostolic ministry is (quite rightly) esteemed, and the relevance and value of the contemplative calling is, at least tacitly, questioned by even some of the highest up in the Church, eremitical life is, again, a radically countercultural vocation. In a world where individualism reigns, consumerism is rampant, and, far too often, the accumulation of wealth and privilege are supposed to be the marks of real success, the eremitical life again stands as a radically countercultural witness and challenge. The same is true in a world where privacy and discretion are sacrificed on the altar of superficial "belonging" via "friending" or vlogging and blogging. This means that the eremitical vocation, besides being countercultural, is a prophetic calling; it witnesses to deep truth in a world hungry for it, and in need of the wisdom derived from it. At least that's what I and the other hermits I know believe. To apply an observation St Paul made in another context, if the hermit vocation to witness to God and the human seeking of God is not truly serious and seriously true, then we hermits are the greatest fools of all!

Hermits' lives are not meaningful merely because we pray for others, though undoubtedly we do that, and yes, that (we claim!) is significant. Hermit's lives are meaningful because they are dedicated to seeking God and living with, in, and from God, and moreover, they are meaningful because this seeking is engaged in for the sake of others (first of all for God's sake and then for that of the whole world) as well as for the hermit's own sake. What we say to others is that every prayer, every act of attentiveness and responsiveness to life and love, every gesture of generosity, or decision leading to self-sacrifice. and service, every moment spent by anyone in this world cultivating the values at the heart of the Gospel, making neighbors and friends of those distant from or "other" than we are, is meaningful and contributes to the sovereign life of God-With-Us we Christians call the Kingdom of God. Hermits (authentic Christian hermits) say with their lives, that God wills to dwell with us here and now and that where that is allowed and even seriously pursued, human life becomes what it is meant to be, joyful, fulfilled, simple, loving, free, hopeful, and engaged for the sake of the whole of God's creation.

And hermits witness to more than this as well.  In the inner journey we make while seeking God, we explore the questions of meaning and meaninglessness, the existence and nature of the God we seek to know and be known by, questions about prayer and suffering, the nature of the human person, the importance of relationships in every life, personal integrity (or holiness), etc. --- questions every serious person asks in varying ways throughout their lives. We don't ordinarily do this in the formal academic way theologians do (though some of us may also do that); we do it experientially. Recently, a couple of diocesan hermits responded to an observation I made about my blog and the questions I get. "You write about the same things again and again, but you [continue to] do so from a[n ever] deeper place (or in a deeper way)." I sincerely hope that is true because if it is, it means this blog is a witness to the nature of my own journey with, in, and for God and what is precious to God. In any case, the inner journey is a journey of profound questioning; it poses the question we human beings are as well as those we pose. It is the journey of faith and doubt, woundedness and healing, despair or near despair, and ultimate hope. Hermits make this journey with Christ into the darkness of sinful (godless) death and the blazing light of resurrection. We seek God in every dark and wounded place, especially within our own hearts and minds, our own memories and deep aspirations, and to the extent we do this and find (or are found by!) God in our searching and hunger,  we proclaim, with St Paul et al., the truth of the Christian Gospel, namely, there is no place and nothing at all that can separate us from the love of God.

Individuals within the Church have always made this journey. Lay persons, religious, priests, contemplatives, hermits, mystics, have all made this inner journey with Christ into darkness and death, and discovered the reality of Jesus' resurrection and the truth of Romans 8:31-39. I would argue that there is nothing whatsoever to justify such a journey, or such vocations, apart from this seeking of God and the truth of the Gospel. At the same time, I have to note that making this journey so that others can know the truth of Jesus' resurrection and the depth and expansiveness of God's love, not as a matter of doctrine but as one of personal experience, is imperative for the vitality of contemporary faith and the life of the Church. So, when you ask what the hermit does for the non-hermit, I would need to say that all of this is applicable. I don't know a single person, believer or non-believer, who doesn't wonder if their life is meaningful, if they are loved or really capable of loving, if "this is all there is," or how is it one lives life in a way that truly honors who they are most fundamentally. The hermit says with her life that even when stripped of the various things the contemporary world believes make our lives meaningful (health, wealth, prestige, power, appreciated societal and service roles, etc), our lives can be full, truly free, given for the sake of others, and ultimately meaningful. Moreover, such stripping can lead to persons with the perspective needed to move our world forward into God's own future.

I'll return to your comments and questions (especially the nature of freedom, on escapism, and on the creation of eremitism as an ecclesial vocation) with another post. Consider this the beginning of an answer on the meaningfulness of the eremitic vocation. If it raises different questions for you, please get back to me as soon as you can. It would be helpful for the way I put together a second post.

Followup Comments on Respect for Oneself, Others, and our use of the Internet

[[ Hi Sister O'Neal, what you wrote about the internet and privacy applies to more than hermits. I have wondered about the effect of the internet on everyone's sense of privacy and the way that diminishes our ability to respect ourselves and others. You said something like this in writing about hermits. It's almost as though people don't have a sense of their value anymore. What you wrote about your own "inner journey" recently interested me a lot because you were talking about something very intimate and personal, but you didn't let it all hang out there either. You had a clear reason for saying what you did, and I thought you did it for the sake of your vocation. I also thought that was risky and it made me ask if you were doing the opposite of what you had said you or any hermit should, but in the end, I thought you pulled it off.]]

Hi there, yourself! Thanks for your comments. Yes, I agree with you 100% regarding the internet and privacy issues. Thank you also for commenting on what I call a paradox, namely the need to write about certain deeply personal dimensions of my life while being appropriately discreet and so, without "letting it all hang out there" as you put it! I have done that because I think the inner journey I wrote about is the very heart of the eremitic vocation, and because I think it is only in making that clear that we can finally begin to lay to rest some of the stereotypes associated with the idea of hermits. It also provides a central core of content for those trying to discern and live this vocation or, perhaps, to discern another's eremitic vocation. This would apply to diocesan personnel and other c 603 hermits who might be assisting a diocesan team in accompanying or mentoring candidates or discerning this kind of vocation.

Once the emphasis is put on this kind of journey, many things fall into place in considering a call to this vocation. These include, but are not limited to, distinguishing between anonymity and hiddenness or privacy and hiddenness,  recognizing that physical solitude is not the measure of eremitical life while existential solitude is, recognizing the distinction between praying for others (important) and the deeper journey of prayer a hermit is called to make. (As I have written before, I dislike the appellation "prayer warrior", not because I don't think intercessory prayer is important (it is), or because hermits are not called to do battle with the demonic (they are), but because the term is bellicose and puts the accent on individual things the hermit does rather than on the unifying, meaning-imbuing journey the hermit is called to make.)

As I have said many times, that journey is a profoundly human and humanizing one undertaken not only for the sake of the hermit's own wholeness or sanctity, but for God's sake and the sake of the Church as Christ's own Church. (God wills to be Emmanuel, God with us, and we are committed to God's accomplishment of that will.) This journey is not only a universal one (i.e., every person is called to undertake it in some way appropriate to their state of life), but it is the highest act of charity we can offer God, because it is about providing (under the impulse of the Holy Spirit) the opportunity for God to truly be the God he willls to be for, with, and in us and God's Church. It is also an act of charity for ourselves since this is a profoundly humanizing process and commitment.

When you spoke about the effect of the internet and its potential to diminish our ability to respect ourselves and others I was aware of thinking that the internet tends not only to diminish our ability to respect social boundaries, but as part of this, it also fails to recognize the sacred and inviolable character of the human person. The Christian Scriptures remind us not to cast pearls before swine lest they be trampled underfoot. It seems to me that some of what I have seen on the internet is precisely about doing something very similar. While I don't believe persons are "swine", I do believe that if we put the genuinely holy out there as though it is just another bit of data about ourselves and our world, we invite people to become as swine and trample those sacred pearls underfoot as they root around searching for something more immediately appealing or "tasty". Acting in this way fails to recognize that these realities are deserving of protection and a sort of personal "tabernacling" --- if you can see what I mean. (In Judaism and in the Catholic Church, we reserve the holiest instances of God coming to us in a tabernacle. )

For Catholics, this idea of tabernacling refers primarily to God tabernacling with us and, in a related way, to the reservation of the Eucharist in an appropriate "tabernacle". However, the Church also reminds us that we are each tabernacles of the Holy Spirit, the sacred "places" where God himself abides inviolably. The way we treat our most precious journey with God should reflect the same kind of care we take with the Eucharist. We offer it freely to anyone in need of and truly desiring its nourishment, and at the same time, we take care that it is not profaned. We handle it with real care or devotion, signal in different ways that it is holy, and reverence it appropriately. This protects not only the Eucharist itself, but the person who might be ignorant of its true nature and thus, whether inadvertently or not, profane it and themselves at the same time. Similarly, the very intimate personal inner journey we each make with God as we seek wholeness, healing, and Divine "verification" or "verifying" (i.e., being made true in our "dialogue" with the love and mercy of God) is a sacred journey made by sacred and potentially holy persons; it should be treated that way. Otherwise, everyone involved, even if they are only casual observers, can be demeaned and profaned in the process.

One of the strongest points of division in today's world is between those who fail to regard the dignity of every person versus those who regard some people as having dignity and others, tragically, as less than human. The requirement that we treat each and every person with the same inherent dignity has already been mentioned several times by our new Pope Leo XIV, just as it was a serious refrain in the writings and homilies of Francis, Leo's predecessor. When we fail to truly respect ourselves (and that means failing to see ourselves as and acting as sacred, as imago dei), so too will we fail to respect and denigrate others who are equally sacred and imago dei. The converse is also the case: when we fail to truly regard others as sacred (as imago dei), we will fail to appropriately regard ourselves as sacred (as imago dei). 

This means maintaining boundaries and taking care with what we put up on the internet. In your experience of the internet and in mine as well, we recognize the fascinating quality of some videos, podcasts, or writing, and we are apt to recognize that as we allow ourselves to be captured by these, we have become less than our truest or best selves. When I wrote earlier, I mentioned becoming voyeurs in such a process, despite never having intended this. Those of us who write or put up videos on the internet, especially while representing ourselves (or our Church) as hermits, must observe appropriate boundaries especially assiduously. Doing so means "tabernacling" the inviolable core of ourselves, and opening the doors to that tabernacle reverently and with real care and discretion, not in an elitist way (everyone, not just a limited few, should be able to benefit from our sharing), but in a way which ennobles those privileged to engage with us in this way.