Cowl as Symbol: Once Again on Becoming the Hermit I Am

About three or four years ago I wrote a piece about God as the Master Weaver/ Master Storyteller God as Master Storyteller . It represented a way of coming to terms with the notion that "There is a reason for everything," without also buying into the naïve notion that God wills everything that occurs or happens to us. It was also a piece of integrating the fact and relatively new theological consideration that we belong to an unfinished and evolving universe; this involves the idea that God creates by summoning or drawing us into the future, into fullness of being and that God represents what theologian Ted Peters calls Absolute Future. Finally it was a way of affirming that in our lives everything can be transfigured by the love of God; no threads will be dropped, none lost or forgotten because, as we celebrate especially with the Feasts of Resurrection and Ascension, we rest securely in the hands and heart of God.

Yesterday I was reading Paulsell's Letters From a Hermit, the story of how Cistercian monk Matthew Kelty became a hermit and I came across the quote found below. It reminded me not only of that article, but also the way God has worked in my own life to create the heart of a hermit and especially during this last year of intense inner work: [[He chose to be alone, "not to nurse his wounds, not to count his victories, but rather quietly to take all the mysterious fabric of [his] life and there [in the hermitage] lay it all out and trace the hand of love that somehow ordered all things, the good and the bad, the crooked and the straight, the bitter and the sweet, the whole of it. . . and then to take the whole thing and throw it over [himself] as a garment woven in love."]] Letters From a Hermit, William Paulsell.

Eremitical life is not the only context in which we can learn to look at our lives in a truly reverent way,  with a truly human and thus, graced perspective. Any person who has worked regularly with a really competent director will be reminded of and confronted with the truth that deeper than any discrete pain or joy, any specific moments of suffering or solace, any individual moments of darkness or light, meaning or senselessness, we are participants in a Mystery which "contextualizes" and makes an ultimate sense of all of these more particular historical realities. A lot of the time what a spiritual director does for us, for instance, especially when we are in the midst of darkness and suffering is to maintain the perspective we lose or cannot adequately maintain at these times. Those of us who have someone who can and does remain in a relatively unobscured contact with the Mystery that grounds us both as we work together through more immediate difficulties, limitations, and yearnings of our life is blessed indeed. In any case, contemplatives of all stripes, hermits, religious women and men (cloistered and apostolic), laity, priests, all know this.

My own sense, however, is that eremitical life especially is ordered to give the hermit the opportunity to do as Matthew Kelty described so well; namely, it provides the very dedicated time and space to remember (and here I mean a deep and active remembering where we actually relive and reappropriate) events from a new perspective --- the perspective of one who knows the eternal and unconditional love of God which is constantly at work to bring good out of evil, life out of death, and meaning out of absurdity. This is the Love-in-Act who undergirds and accompanies us and has always done so, the God who has worked to redeem every moment and mood of our lives and bring us to fullness of existence in and through Christ. The hermit is one who has given everything in order to allow this God to be fully revealed in her life in and through the silence of solitude; she has given everything so that she might "clothe herself" in the Risen Christ without whom her life would be an absurdity and waste, but with and in whom her life is an infinitely valuable reflection of the Gospel. This is the work and witness of eremitical life, the gift the hermit gives to the Church and world in the name of Christ.

As readers here know, a year ago (June 1st) my director and I began an intense form of inner work which allowed a methodical approach to doing precisely this kind of remembering, healing, and growth work. I was clear that in professing and thus commissioning me to live eremitical life in her name, the Church had also implicitly commissioned --- as well as given me the privileged time and space in the silence of solitude --- to undertake this very work. At every point it was my director's "job" to remind me of and help me get or remain in touch with the fact that in spite of every particular period or instance of suffering, pain, darkness, and apparent senselessness we worked through (as well as those of light, profound meaning, and joy) we each stand up out of and embody a deeper source of life, truth, and love that constitutes a foundational or constitutive part of our deepest selves and is our ultimate destiny and absolute future as well.

My director's "job" has been and remains not only to help me heal in the ways I have needed, but above all, to accompany me in this process of journeying deep into memory, deep into self, and help me learn and continue to trace the hand of love that somehow ordered all things; her "job" was to assist me to "trust the process" (give myself over to a process where the hand of love, though often obscured, is and will become, evident) and to grow in my capacity to do that with every part of my Self --- whether in the midst of deep suffering and pain or profound consolation and joy. What I learned anew time and again in this work, what I came to know (in the intimate biblical sense!) and therefore, to trust more and more deeply, was the truth of the Ascension: we rest securely in the hands and heart of God. In Christ we always have been given and always have a place in the very life of God. If we can allow that truth to be the fabric of our lives --- not just their ground and source, but the thread which weaves throughout to structure, and inspire, the cloak with which we are embraced and clothed --- those lives will be utterly transformed and transfigured.

Sometimes putting on my cowl is especially challenging. That is not only because I stand alone in a parish setting where it is probably not well-understood by most people, or because few other Religious I know wear anything remotely similar. More truly, it is because it represents so much eremitical and monastic tradition and history, so much ecclesial trust and responsibility. It is never a garment I take for granted! And now I associate it freshly and more deeply with all of this work. It has become a symbol of it all, and of God's long process in creating the heart of a hermit. During this process my director and I have discerned and been moved in a variety of ways by the Mystery present in, embracing, and also transcending every particularity of my life. Together throughout this privileged time we have traced the hand of Love that orders all things.

My cowl is a smooth, white, wool blend --- and so it will remain. But it is also freshly woven and shot through with all kinds of new colors and textures --- some I never thought could belong to such a garment. Not a thread has been lost, forgotten, or rejected. All of them have been closely and tenderly handled and transfigured by the Mystery I (and my director) know as God. All of them have been worked into what is a sacred garment marking a life which is equally sacred. Through the whole of my life God has been working to create the heart of a hermit and this is a hermit's garment. Each time I pull it on now I will remember Matthew Kelty's challenging: [[. . . and then. . .take the whole thing and throw it over [yourself] as a garment woven in love.]] Each time I pull it on I will be reminded that every moment of my life has been grounded in and embraced by Mystery. Meanwhile this work of healing and "reeducation" --- this process of metanoia! --- continues in response to the call to put on Christ and the Scriptural imperative to [[Remember how for forty [I read sixty-eight!] years now the LORD, your God, has directed all your journeying in the desert. . .]] ***

While in gratitude to God I may see my own situation as privileged, isn't all of this merely one way of undertaking the task we are each given at baptism when we are clothed with a white garment and each day after this challenged to "put on Christ"? Aren't we each grounded in and called to know intimately the Mystery which is the foundation of the universe? Of course. And thanks be to God!!

*** This reading is from the opening to Lection #1 from the Solemnity of Corpus Christi; on Corpus Christi at San Damiano Retreat Center I will don my cowl for Mass where I have the great joy of reading this Lection for the celebration of Franciscan Sister Susan Blomstad's 50th Jubilee. Susan was Vicar for Religious and/or Director of Vocations for the Diocese of Oakland in the first years of the mutual discernment process related to my becoming a c 603 hermit (@1985-1990); later (@ 2006) -- though living and working in another diocese --- she added her recommendation those of Oakland's Vicars re: my admission to perpetual profession and consecration as a Diocesan Hermit of the Diocese of Oakland (Sept 2007).

Today we are friends and share a number of other significant dates, interests, and pieces of background (including Saint Francis and Franciscanism). Not surprisingly we both know the challenges and consolations of the desert and the ways God lovingly weaves and reweaves the threads of our lives into something at once mysterious and miraculous. I hope you will all keep Sister Susan (and the other Jubilarians) in your prayers and thank God for their lives and commitment!

Are Camaldolese Oblates Consecrated?

[[Dear Sister, are Camaldolese Oblates consecrated? Do you wear a Camaldolese cowl?]]

Thanks for your questions. I am assuming you mean do persons who become Camaldolese Oblates also become consecrated persons in the act of oblature? Do these persons become members of the consecrated state through their gift of self in this way? The simple answer is no, one does not enter the consecrated state of life in this way. One does not become a religious, does not make public vows, and remains in whatever state of life into which they were already initiated. If they were already consecrated before becoming oblates then yes, they are consecrated, but not because they are oblates. The bottom line is that oblature is a form of dedication by the oblate, not consecration by God through the mediation of the Church.

While oblature in most Benedictine congregations is limited to lay people, the Camaldolese also accept religious, priests and consecrated virgins and diocesan hermits as oblates. However, lay persons who make oblature remain lay persons and are committed to live the Camaldolese Oblate Rule in their everyday lay life --- a very significant commitment in a world challenged to see that God comes to us in the realm of the ordinary. Clerics do not become clerics in the Camaldolese Order upon oblature, nor do religious become professed Camaldolese when they become oblates. All oblates are members of the extended Camaldolese family but again,  they are oblates who remain in their original state of life upon making oblature.

Also, while the process of oblature (this is not a profession of vows) involves both a commit-ment and reception of this commit-ment by a representative of the congregation, this is a private commitment. It is not public and does not have public rights and obligations (that is, the rights and obligations are those that obtain within the Camaldolese family alone). Nor does anyone acting in the name of the Church mediate God's own consecration of the person. As I have noted here a number of times, initiation into the consecrated state is a public act of the whole Church. A legitimate superior or other authorized person receives the person's profession or other commitment and mediates divine consecration in the name of the Church. The intention to do this must be present but so must the ecclesiastical authority. Camaldolese monks and nuns admitting others to oblature have neither the intention nor the authority to admit these specific persons to the consecrated state. (For instance, under specific  circumstances the Sister that received my commitment/oblature had the authority to admit Sisters in her own monastery to the consecrated state as part of her role as Prioress but she had no authority (nor did she have the intention) to admit ME to this state. She did have the authority (and intention) to receive my oblature.)

Regarding my cowl, please be aware that oblates, insofar as they are oblates, do not wear cowls. I wear a cowl because it is a symbol of solemn monastic or eremitical profession and I am a consecrated hermit; it was canonically granted at my perpetual profession and consecration under c 603. Because I am also a Camaldolese oblate, and because Camaldolese monks and nuns wear a cowl, it was important to make sure that the hood of my own cowl not be cut in the unique elongated Camaldolese style lest I give someone the impression that I am professed as a Camaldolese nun. (Mine is cut in more of a Carthusian or a Cistercian style with visible differences from these as well.)   In any case, no, I do not wear a Camaldolese cowl nor does any oblate as oblate.

On Wearing the Cowl While in Discernment

[[Dear Sister, when a person is  going through the discernment process of becoming a diocesan hermit can the cowl be worn?]]

Presuming you mean initial discernment with a diocese prior to admission to any profession, the simple answer is no. The cowl is only given with perpetual profession and then only when the diocesan Bishop grants the cowl canonically. (Not every Bishop does so and some hermits decide to use a different prayer garment.) A simple personal prayer garment can be used in private during the discernment period but cannot be worn publicly since this would imply public standing, rights, and obligations. Similarly, such a garment is NOT given to one by the Church but instead is privately or self-assumed.

In monastic communities a modified cowl (short sleeves, for instance) is given with simple (temporary) vows (and sometimes a shortened tunic, cape, or otherwise modified cowl (sans sleeves) is given with entrance into candidacy and the novitiate). The full cowl is always reserved for solemn profession (in the picture to the right Sister Ann Marie, OCSO, will receive the full cowl after she signs her vows just as Sister Karen, OSCO is shown doing below). Generally. a person just discerning whether or not they are truly called to consecrated eremitical life under c 603 is not allowed to wear a habit of any sort. Doing so is also linked to a public state of life with public rights and obligations as well as with the Bishop's permission and ordinarily someone in initial discernment is not in such a position.

Remember that a candidate for possible profession under c 603 is usually a lay person with the rights and obligations of any lay person. Because they are not being incorporated into a community in stages (postulancy, novitiate, juniorate, perpetual profession) with commensurate legal (canonical) rights and obligations they are solitary individuals bound "only" by their baptismal commitments. (I do not disparage such commitments by using "only" here. Baptismal commitments are extremely significant but public profession and consecration imply added canonical rights and obligations.)

Moreover, discernment as to whether one is actually meant to be a hermit of any sort can take a number of years. It simply makes little sense for such a person to be given permission to wear representative eremitical garb when they are neither hermits yet (the transition from lone individual to hermit in an essential sense is something one usually negotiates during discernment and initial formation)  nor canonically responsible for the continuation and protection of a vital eremitical tradition. Traditionally, the cowl is associated with the assumption of responsibility for living and representing the fullness of monastic and eremitical life in a formal and canonical sense. When one sees the cowl this is what it indicates or symbolizes. To be faithful to and retain this meaning it is necessary to restrict the ecclesial granting of it to the occasion of perpetual or solemn profession.

I hope this is helpful.

Symbols of Perpetual or Solemn Eremitical Profession

[[Dear Sister, what are the symbols of an eremitical perpetual or solemn profession?]]

Generally speaking the cowl is the primary traditional symbol of solemn or perpetual profession in monastic and eremitical life. A second symbol is the ring signifying espousal. Another is the crucifix worn or carried somewhere on one's person. So is a profession candle marking both baptismal consecration and this new consecration. My diocese required both ring and cowl (or other prayer garment --- whichever seemed best. Since I was a Camaldolese Oblate my diocese agreed the cowl was appropriate and the Camaldolese were consulted as well; they asked that the hood be cut differently from that of Camaldolese monks and nuns since I was not being professed as Camaldolese).

Temporary profession, on the other hand, can be marked by the giving of a prayer garment other than the cowl, by clothing in a habit and/or veil, by a scapular, etc. Not all diocesan hermits or their dioceses choose to use habits or cowls but all that I have heard of require the profession ring. Office books can be given to mark profession, as can a bound copy of one's Rule since this becomes legally binding on the day of profession. Strictly speaking, I am not sure the Office books are symbols of profession, but they are certainly meaningful signs of one's commitment and probably should be included in the rite. The Rule, however is a rich symbol and in particular, is both essential to the living of the life and plays a role almost daily in the  mediation of God's continuing call and the hermit's faithful response to that.

Why is it Diocesan Hermits can Wear Habits?

Sisters of Bethlehem (Not Canon 603)

[[Dear Sister Laurel, why is it consecrated hermits can wear habits?]]

Thanks for your question. There are several reasons which make it appropriate to allow publicly professed hermits to wear habits.  First, in light of canon 603 solitary canonical hermits are now seen as religious. In the Handbook on Canons 573-746 in the section on norms common to Institutes of Consecrated Life, canonist Ellen O'Hara, CSJ writes regarding canon 603 specifically, "The term "religious" now applies to individuals with no obligation to common or community life and no relation to an institute." Thus, the same canonical obligations regarding garb witnessing to consecration and religious poverty can be applied to diocesan hermits. (Note well that in all of this I am referring to canon 603 and those who make public vows under that canon. Privately dedicated hermits are not included in Sister Ellen O'Hara's characterization above.)

Secondly, the eremitical life is traditionally associated with an eremitical or monastic habit. Ordinarily an elder hermit granted the habit to the novice; s/he also monitored the wearing of it as a piece of mentoring the novice in the eremitical life. If the novice lived the life well, the habit stayed; if the novice did not live the life well, permission to wear the habit was withdrawn and the habit was taken away. This use of specific religious garb is older than any other in the history of Christian religious or monastic life. Since, along with congregations of hermits like the Carthusians and Camaldolese, c 603 represents a public, ecclesial continuation of this tradition, the granting of the habit is entirely appropriate to diocesan hermits, despite the fact that they are solitary hermits. The Bishop replaces an elder hermit or mentor, however, in granting permission for and clothing with the habit.

Thirdly, the habit, today especially, marks the person wearing it as somehow "separated" from the world, not only in the sense of that which is resistant to Christ, but also to some extent from the world of social relationships and some related obligations. For instance, as I have noted before, vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience significantly qualify the ways in which the professed person relates to the world of commerce, relationships, and power. For hermits who are, in fact and by definition, more strictly separated from these than apostolic or ministerial religious, the habit can serve to remind her of this dimension of her vocation even when she is out and about. While it should not make her in any way remote or distant from those with whom she comes in contact, it signals a distinction which is not always appropriate in ministerial religious.

Permission to wear the habit, as noted above, is granted by the diocesan Bishop. Beyond this, it is customary (though not strictly required) that the hermit is clothed in a cowl or other prayer garment at perpetual profession. My own diocese required the latter (cowl or other prayer garment) and desired or were open to (but did not require) my wearing a habit. Still, some hermits may choose not to adopt these forms of garb and some dioceses may not require (or even be open to) either habit or prayer garment. Reasons vary. Some Bishops dislike allowing individuals who are not members of an institute of consecrated life to wear a habit (especially if the habit is typically Franciscan or Dominican or something similar --- a practice which cannot be allowed!); sometimes, however, this is a piece of legitimately discerning an authentic eremitical vocation (bishops or Vicars may say the diocese is not open to hermits wearing habits because sometimes folks who live alone merely want to wear a habit and are not really interested in the vocation itself or in living an authentic eremitical solitude). 

In all such cases there is really no need for a habit until one is professed; one will dress simply otherwise; neither is a habit necessary for discerning an eremitical vocation. At the same time, as noted, in some cases withholding the granting of the habit may be part of discerning and demonstrating a candidate is not really interested in or able to live an eremitical life per se. Some hermits accent the hiddeness of the vocation and see a habit as clashing with this dimension of the eremitical life. Others feel that wearing such garb is contrived or unnatural outside a monastic setting and are simply uncomfortable with it. When these things are true for the individual hermit, when, that is, they are positions she holds or agrees with, her own Rule (her own "proper law") will not support the wearing of a habit.

Still, hermits professed and consecrated under canon 603 are generally allowed to wear habits if and when their Bishops agree. (Again, such permission, which seems to be granted by the majority of bishops with c 603 hermits in their dioceses, is usually not granted apart from profession, especially if the hermit is out in public because, as I have noted before (something which could be called a fourth reason), habits are associated with the assumption of public rights and obligations of a particular state of life (Religious). A habit is unnecessary and superfluous apart from the assumption of such rights and obligations, or such a state; it is also misleading and dishonest. People rightly associate habits with the assumption of public rights and obligations and tailor their expectations accordingly, It is for this reason habits are not usually approved apart from admission to vows. The cowl, when given, is always linked to perpetual profession and not to temporary profession.

Regarding Diocesan Hermits: Hoods Up or Down? And what about Apostolic Activity?

[[Dear Sister Laurel, I was just reading your posts on the cowl because I have been viewing a number of videos in which monks are wearing or not wearing their hoods up. I am wondering what dictates when the hood is up or down. Also, would you comment on the apostolic activity in the life of a hermit. I think that most of us have a picture of hermits as people (usually venerable old men who live in the desert in an isolated hut) who, other than offering spiritual direction to those who come to them, have little other contact with the "outside" world. I am so drawn to your posts, and I thank you for them. They are so informative and inspirational to this closet contemplative.]]

HOODS UP or DOWN?

Good questions! Regarding the cowl and whether one wears the hood up or down there are no real hard and fast rules for diocesan hermits, despite the fact that the right to wear this garment publicly is granted to diocesan hermits at perpetual profession. (After all, not all of us are asked or choose to wear a cowl as our prayer garment, and when we are or do, we do so as individuals in our parish/diocesan community, not as monks or nuns in a monastery or congregation!) Generally if I am praying at Eucharist with the rest of the parish community I always have my hood down simply because I don't want to be or feel cut off from the rest of the assembly. This includes the penitential rite right on up to the Eucharistic prayer of the Mass (where, for instance, Bishops will remove their "skull caps" (zuchetti) and go bareheaded). However, that general rule aside, I wear my hood up on Good Friday during parts of that day's liturgy, particularly the reading of the passion and veneration of the cross, and during parts of communal penance celebrations at Advent and Lent --- in this latter situation, I do so not only to ensure my own privacy, but to ensure that of others moving up to the stations where priests will hear their confessions.

At Mass I celebrate while others receive Communion and I love to watch fellow parishioners go up to receive; I pray for and rejoice with them, but penance services with the move to the confession stations is a much different matter. I also wear my hood up during the periods of the Easter Vigil done outside, processing into the church, or where we sit in darkness hearing the Word of God while waiting for the announcement of the resurrection. At the point where the lights comes on, bells are rung, Alleluia's sound, etc, my hood comes down. At daily or Sunday Mass (before these actually) I may have my hood up if I have not yet finished quiet prayer because it tends to signal others not to approach me yet, or to help keep things quieter for a little longer. However, this is not something I prolong and it is a rare occurrence. (Remember that the hood is meant to serve as an extension of the cell.)

In the hermitage itself I tend to wear the hood up during periods of quiet prayer and some times of reading or study (especially if I am doing this outside in the evenings or night during the Summer), but not at other times (unless it is chilly and then the hood helps a bit!). Since I don't need to wear the cowl to or from chapel (or signal to others we are still in the period of great silence) there is no need to wear the hood up moving around the hermitage. Note that in communities where cowls are worn routinely there are customs which are followed, and so their practices are far more extensive and spelled out than mine; however it is a different thing when everyone wears a cowl, and not nearly so isolating or elitist-making as it might be in a parish setting where one is the only one wearing such garb. You would need to ask someone in such a religious community what their practices or customs are regarding hoods-up or hoods-down! In a parish setting it might be that some diocesan hermits signal some degree of separation from even the rest of the assembly at parish Mass by wearing their hood up most or all of the time, but, despite understanding why someone might wish to do this, I find that personally, liturgically, and theologically unacceptable.

Apostolic Activity, etc.

Regarding ministerial activity outside the hermitage (I prefer the term ministerial rather than apostolic), the fact is every hermit has to determine to what degree she will undertake this for herself in conjunction with her director, delegate, Bishop and pastor. I have written about this in other posts so I will not repeat much of it here, but generally such activity must flow from and be an expression of a solitary contemplative life, and lead one back to the silence of solitude and contemplation. This is not a matter merely of balancing the contemplative aspects of a life with the non-contemplative aspects, or balancing "hermiting" kinds of things (whatever those really are!) with "worldly" things and activities (again, whatever those really are!). It is a matter of approaching whatever one does as a hermit for whom the silence of solitude and contemplative prayer informs and dictates whatever one does.

One of the truths of genuine contemplative life is that such life spills over into life for the church and world in concrete ways. When one experiences love in the way contemplative prayer allows for, one does not merely pray, but becomes God's own prayer and for this reason, one's contemplation necessarily spills over and outward. When this happens, the activity undertaken becomes part of authentic contemplative life --- it itself is contemplative in the best sense of the word. Should it become seductive on its own behalf and lead one away from the more strictly silent and solitary, or disrupt one's ability to center in and quiet oneself more deeply for solitary contemplative prayer, then something needs attention.

As for having little contact with the "outside world", it is true that hermits have a good deal less of it than most people, and maintain such contact as they do have with a care and attentiveness which many today do not exercise, but the Canon governing diocesan eremitical life speaks of "stricter separation from the world" where "world" has a very particular meaning, namely and primarily, that which is closed and resistant to Christ. (Holland, Handbook on Canons 573-746: definition provided by Ellen O'Hara in "Norms Common to All Institutes of Consecrated Life")) We need to remember that in this sense, the "world" may mean much of what lies outside the hermitage, but also, that it applies to much within our own hearts, and so, is something closing the door of the hermitage will not shut out but rather will shut in!

For the most part I remain within my hermitage so that I can spend time with God alone, and also so he may occasion the healing and sanctification of those parts of my heart which are truly "worldly" in this primary and limited sense. This necessarily means limiting or even avoiding aspects of God's good creation as well (another Johannine meaning of the term "world"), but, I am not a recluse, nor am I a stereotype --- venerable, bearded, or otherwise! --- and so, in limited and judicious ways I participate in activities and relationships which are both an expression of, and assist me in growing as a person and therefore, as a hermit (and vice versa)! Again, each hermit will discern what is right in these regards for herself and for the vocation to eremitical life generally. Should, she find that she is called outside the hermitage too much, or that she is engaged in apostolic activity for much more than a very limited amount of her time, or even that this activity --- how ever limited (and beneficial) it may be --- is an obstacle to settling back into the solitude of the cell or hermitage, then, as already noted, something has gone awry and she needs to discern seriously what that is and where she is truly called.

On the other hand, a "hermit" who refuses to become involved in some limited degree of ministerial activity outside the hermitage because a stereotypical idea of eremitical life does not allow for it, or because of selfishness, misanthropy, lack of generosity, or a failure to discern what eremitical life needs to be in today's church and world in order to be a prophetic and contemplative presence there, may have failed her vocation every bit as much as the hermit who cannot stay in her cell appropriately (that is, as one who cannot maintain an appropriate "custody of the cell."). Clearly discernment does not cease once one has been professed and consecrated!

I hope this is helpful. Let me know if it raises more questions or is unclear in any way.

On Wearing the Cowl; Becoming the Hermit I Am

I received the following question from someone who read my first post on receiving the cowl canonically, and am posting it here because it gives me a chance to reflect on what wearing the cowl means to me now.

[[ When you were first told you would need a cowl you said you weren't prepared for that, and also that it was not as meaningful as it would become you thought. Could I ask if that has changed and if so, in what ways? By the way, why weren't you prepared for receiving the cowl originally?]]

Let me take the second part of your question first: why wasn't I prepared? The news that I was being admitted to perpetual vows came about six months before the profession ceremony itself, and I had been waiting for that permission for several years. In the Guidelines to the Eremitic Life once put out by the Diocese of La Crosse, I had read about the need for a prayer garment, but the nature of that garment was left unspecified (and in fact, there are several acceptable options for such a garment, a cowl is not the only possibility). However, this was a requirement in the Diocese of La Crosse, not a universal requirement canon 603 specifies, so an individual hermit needs to hear from her own diocese what her Bishop desires or requires in this regard --- if anything at all.

Though I was in communication with my diocese about all the things needed for such a profession, this "loose end" was not decided upon until the last moment (or at least it was not communicated to me until then). After hearing what the diocese required and determining that a cowl was appropriate not only as a hermit (which is its primary witness), but in light of my oblature with the Camaldolese, I also had to talk with the Camaldolese to see if they had any problems with it. (Oblates do not wear cowls, though the monks and nuns, of course, do.) Since they have another Oblate who is first and foremost a diocesan hermit who wears a cowl because of that, they were essentially fine with the matter. The cowl could be Camaldolese white but I would also need to have the hood cut differently than that of a nun professed AS Camaldolese, for instance. Still, profession was only two weeks away. It was a lot to get prepared for, and to get my mind and heart around. That was why I also said I was certain my own appreciation of the significance of the cowl would mature in time.

So, what has changed for me in this regard? As a diocesan hermit, there is sometimes the sense that one is cut off from monasteries, hermitages, and the like, and there is the temptation to see oneself as "simply" a contemplative sister living, praying, and working (to a limited degree) in a parish. People in the parish generally relate to one in that way because the whole idea of one's being a hermit does not really "compute," so to speak. Hermits remain apparently anachronistic, and negative stereotypes relating to misanthropy and the like remain (not least because such would-be hermits actually exist --- though not as professed in the Church), so if one does not fit the stereotypes (and I certainly do not) it becomes easier to be thought of as a contemplative sister only. Now that is not universal of course, but it is generally so. Wearing a habit does not help this situation really; it just signals that today I am relatively unusual in this regard. The idea of a habit as specifically monastic garb has largely been lost because the wearing of it was advocated by church hierarchs for active religious sisters who were not essentially monastic at all. Thus, the wearing of a habit does not itself establish me as a monastic/hermit in peoples' minds even though it does so in mine.

My sense is a lot of that changes with the wearing of the cowl. People now expect me to wear it at liturgies --- and of course, I do --- and it signals to them something other than my being simply a parish or diocesan sister. (In hot weather though, they kindly make sure I know, that as far as they are concerned at least, I can dispense with the cowl if I want!) Still, it signals that a monastic, a hermit, part of a long history of hermits and monastics traced back to the earliest church days is in their midst, and it indicates that as involved as I may be in the parish, my essential vocation is to prayer in solitude and silence --- contemplative and liturgical prayer. It signals to them that the white garments used at baptism are not a one-use-in-a-lifetime garment, but something which, at least in our hearts, we should put on every day. (Recently we had several children baptized; the three older ones wore a white garment with hood, a garment which looked like a tiny cowl or tiny alb with hood. I had never seen this before in our parish, and it occurred to me that perhaps my own cowl could have been part of the inspiration for this. If so, I think it is a very good thing.) So, I hope that it signals the importance of symbols, baptismal garments, yes, but also the cowl as sign of white martyrdom, consecration, and the counter-cultural nature of the eremitical vocation, even if they are only vaguely or unconsciously aware of these things.

The primary importance in my own appreciation does not have to do with what other people think, of course, but what they think and how they respond helps me come to a deeper appreciation myself of the significance of the cowl. Also, I am personally amazed at how often now I see pictures of monks or hermits --- illustrations in books or on their covers --- wearing white cowls. I had simply never paid a lot of attention to this before, and when I did, I think I dismissed such garb as medieval and outdated!! But now, I see cowls all the time in the books I need for my own work and lectio. The cowl has sensitized me to things monastic where that sensitivity needed to grow. I mention this because each time it happens I experience a wave of fresh understanding and awe at the tradition I officially represent as perpetually professed hermit. Most people come to eremitical life THROUGH monastic life: my own journey has been to monastic life THROUGH life as a solitary hermit. Appropriating this tradition personally is an awesome, exciting, and very humbling challenge and necessity.

Interestingly the longer I wear the cowl, the more sure I am there is no serious disconnect between my life inside and my life outside the hermitage, and also, the more I am challenged to be sure this is true and becomes more true over time. I am not merely playing dressup in this cowl, nor merely doing something I was required to do by the diocese without it really being natural or reflecting who I am (although I must say I clearly see this as a charge and responsibility given by the diocese on behalf of the whole church which I have gladly accepted). While I was concerned at first it might accentuate a difference or disparity (between role and reality), and also be affected and anachronistic, I am finding that the more natural putting on or wearing the cowl is (and at first it felt REALLY UNNATURAL!!), the more it works to define me when I take it off. Perhaps it is the case that the cowl signals I am a hermit and monastic, and for that reason I do not need to go out of my way to "play at" being these things. I am not sure of that, but what is clear is that in wearing it I am simply being myself. (Of course I believe I was doing that before, but I think we all need assistance in making sure the roles we play and the persons we really are coincide completely.) The cowl, I think, has helped me in that regard.

Also, at my perpetual profession, Bishop Vigneron remarked during his homily that I would be exploring what it meant to be a hermit in the 21st century. He was clear that this perpetual profession as a diocesan hermit both called and freed me to do exactly this. I must say that this particular aspect of the vocation is something that really appeals to me, and it is something I actually mentioned in my Rule. At the same time, again, I must become and stay more and more deeply anchored in the tradition of hermits through the centuries. The cowl is an important part of this, for it signals to me again and again that I actually represent an instance of a vocation that God has called people to in our tradition for thousands of years. The cowl is both prophetic sign and symbol of historical continuity and kind of stability; it is at once countercultural and traditional. For this reason, it anchors me in the past and challenges me to embody the best of it more and more even while it calls me to make sure it speaks appropriately to people today. The irony is that as I become more integral to my parish and more and more capable of speaking to them about something contemporary, so also does my silence and solitude deepen. I suppose that is not surprising really, but for me, it is a welcome discovery!

When I first spoke of wearing the cowl in this blog it was within the context of a reflection I was doing on the notion of putting on Christ. While that dimension is, of course, never absent from my wearing of the cowl, it is (or feels) stronger for me in the wearing of the habit itself. With the exception of the scapular, the cowl speaks more specifically to me of being a monastic and especially the eremitic expression of that, of allowing God alone to be sufficient for me.  Of course, that is the same as "putting on Christ" --- but in my own mind and heart it feels like a related but slightly different thing. This is partly because the cowl is also called cuculla, from the Latin for "little house" and for hermits it is meant to signal an extension of the hermit cell. Thus, for those living outside urban areas, it is worn (hood up) when one travels from hermitage to church in the mornings (or back at night) during great silence, or even around hermitage property on walks, etc to remind the hermit of the value and practice called "custody of the cell"; it signals that one carries one's cell with one in one's own heart and is always called to stricter separation from the world.

There is another thing the cowl has made a difference in, or at least has impacted. I wear the cowl (hood down) for liturgical prayer with others, that is, for Office and Mass and any other paraliturgical celebrations I attend. Praying Divine Office is different for me than it once was. Once I prayed it because it was a good thing for my own prayer life and to a similar extent, I think, because it was the official prayer of the Church. I did not sufficiently see the Divine Office as essential to my vocation itself; important, yes, but not sufficiently as essential. Now, however, it is essential to my call, and the cowl reinforces this sense of things for me by serving as a concrete linkage between church and hermitage. As I have said before here, the diocesan hermit is very much one who prays at the very heart of the Church AND IN HER NAME. She is one who embodies the Church's most fundamental vocation and ministry in this world, namely, to pray always! This, I think, means understanding the Liturgy of the Hours as an essential, not merely an important part of the vocation which punctuates and facilitates the prayer in the rest of the day. Of course, the Rule of St Benedict emphasizes this in its own way, and I am challenged by the Rule to make this true in my own life. The cowl, however, has been important both in visibly and symbolically affirming and extending this challenge to me throughout my day.

Finally, then, the cowl has served to challenge me to grow in my vocation. Martyrs and Saints have worn this garment. Brother and Sister monks and hermits through the centuries have done so and embraced a call to holiness and prayer in ways that summon and challenge me as well. So, above all, the cowl calls me to grow daily, hourly, in this vocation. To see it hanging on the back of the door often stops me in wonder at the nature of this calling; to actually put it on and know that the Church herself has entrusted it and the wearing of it to me is an astounding, awesome, and powerful challenge. And it is one I accept with joy.

Thanks for the question, and the chance to actually reflect a little on what the wearing of the cowl has come to mean to me over the past 8 months. I really appreciate it and I hope I answered your question! (note, I hope the pictures help show that women monastics wear the cowl, or something very like it, more than is commonly realized.)

Monastic (Eremitical) Cowl, Perpetual Profession

In preparing for perpetual vows this next weekend, I was informed by the Vicar for Religious that I would need a ring and a prayer garment. The ring I had had for several months, but the prayer garment? What really did they have in mind? Well, it turns out they were thinking of something like monastics use either in choir or in cell to pray in: a cowl or cuculla, a scapular with hood, or a tunic with hood.

Now these garments are very meaningful to monastics (and this includes hermits). In most communities, it is the cowl that is given at solemn profession, and the symbolism is rich and real. In the Camaldolese tradition the cowl is white, and reminds us clearly of white martyrdom ---the self-sacrifice of the hermit for the sake of Christ and his people, for instance. Echoes of wedding garments, baptismal garments, and putting on Christ are all a part of this garment's symbolism. It is designed so that one literally can do nothing other than pray in it! The sleeves are voluminous --- even on the modified version which my cowl will be. The hood closes one off to what is around one, and the full length ensures one is wholly covered, completely enwrapped.

I had not personally prepared for this, eventhough the cowl is also associated with perpetual profession in eremitic life. I was prepared for the ring (I will take off my silver band and replace it with a gold band), for my relationship with Christ has been nuptial for many years now and the bridal imagery of the perpetual profession resonated well with that. But, while I sometimes attend Mass and/or vespers at a Camaldolese monastery, and while I am used to the monks/nuns wearing cowls for choir and Mass, wearing such a garment myself much less being given one canonically to wear whenever I pray was relatively foreign to me! (And it was foreign to my sister as well, who, upon hearing the story, promptly responded: "Yo, Casper!")

I have had some time to work through this whole idea now, time to process it some, and it is meaningful to me --- though it is likely to become more so over time. It helped a lot that last week, the lections I chose for doing a reflection on were Thursday's! The first two lections were about vows and keeping one's vows, and the gospel was Matt's parable of the king who invites two different sets of people to the wedding feast. Once the second set have accepted the invitation and the feast is in full swing, the king looks around and spots a guy who has not worn the appropriate wedding garment, and without further ado, he has the man thrown out!!

Of course, the gospel is not about clothes per se. It is about God's unconditional love and the response it engenders and empowers. It is about "putting on Christ" in response to, and in the power of this love. What is clear is that if we accept the invitation of the king to the wedding feast, then we really do need to dress appropriately, and that means clothing ourselves in Christ. Even in situations where we will "look funny", be unfashionable, or out of step with our dominant culture, we really need to put on Christ. For me, the monastic cowl is a symbol of this --- and the fact that it does not represent just a sign of my new status as perpetually professed hermit, but is also still a bit "weird" is probably a good thing. Certainly it will not allow me to forget how truly marginal the hermit is, nor how truly countercultural either! Neither will it allow me to forget that the challenge to put on Christ is not an easy thing, nor one which is apt to keep me within some artificially determined comfort level. No, it will push the boundaries and take me where I might not have wanted or chosen to go otherwise.

This weekend, as a perpetually professed hermit, I receive canonically the monastic cowl. It is not yet as meaningful to me as the ring I will also receive, but it marks another new beginning to my hermit life, and one where every day I will struggle anew to put on Christ --- whether or not I put on the cowl (or a modified version of the same) at the same time!!