Jesus Raises me up to service in and for "the silence of solitude"

I was struck differently today by the healing of Peter's Mother-in-Law than I have been in the past. In the past I was probably a little put out that Peter's MIL was healed only to immediately be raised up to serve. But today the story was a terrific joy to me for I understand the two movements of this Mother in Law's story differently than I once might have. After all, the ability to serve one's God, one's church, other people in the community, and one's family is a joy --- especially after a time of not being able to do so due to illness. There is no doubt that for one who has suffered the oppression of illness, whether chronic or acute and knows the apparent inability to be the person they have been gifted to be because of it that the simple image of Jesus taking Peter's MIL by the hand, raising her up to a new life where she is free to give back, to share, to participate in communal life again is a powerful symbol.

In the past two months I have been struggling to write (actually writing is always a struggle for me!). Not only do I have a book I have been working on slowly for some time now, but I have a couple of articles which I need to get published due to some urgency. These articles focus on the "silence of solitude" as the interpretive key to canon 603 --- and that means it is the key to the discernment of a diocesan eremitical vocation, to living the life well in dialogue with the modern world and the desert and hesychastic traditions, as well for Chancery personnel at every level who assist in the discernment process, and supervise those living the vocation in their dioceses. These people need to understand the difference between pious lone individuals and hermits; they also need something which anchors canon 603 in the desert and hesychastic traditions, and can signal when it is appropriate to expect a hermit candidate to be able to write a livable Rule of life --- as well as what to look for in such a Rule which signals an authentic vocation. The silence of solitude is the single element of the canon which serves in these ways. Finally, and most importantly, I think, it is the interpretive Key to the canon because it is the charism or gift which this vocation is to church and world and as such, serves as the depth dimension of the other elements in the canon which establishes them as essentially eremitical --- including the often-neglected central and non-negotiable element: "for the praise of God and the salvation of the world."

While only some of this is truly new to me the project is important to me because I came to it through my own long struggle with chronic illness which involved my move from attempts to validate my isolation to the actual redemption of that and its transfiguration into genuine solitude. It came to me through an experience of solitude which allowed me to understand the peace, the hesychia or quies which it involves when my own life was transformed from a scream of anguish into a song of silent joy. It came to me through a prayer experience in which celibacy was transformed from a negative experience (I would never be a mother, never be a wife, etc) into a form of love where I was completed as a woman by Christ's own love for me. It was that same experience in which solitude was transformed from a synonym for separation and apartness to a symbol of belonging at the heart of reality in dialogue with God. When I reflected on all of those who were isolated in our world and anguished that their lives were meaningless, it was genuine solitude in and with God that was the word of hope I concluded they needed to hear. Moreover, it came to me as I examined the occasional instances of the misapplication and failure to adequately esteem the gift/charism of canon 603 by a few Bishops and others over the past 28 years which trivialized the vocation and allowed professions which made it incredible. All of these events and others, especially perpetual profession as a diocesan hermit more than 4 years ago now and all that has involved, led me to understand first hand what canon 603 calls, "the silence of solitude."

At Christmas time when we were hearing all the stories of women in the OT and NT who had come from barrenness to fruitfulness, sometimes through the birth of a child, sometimes through a word only they could speak, I had reason to identify with those women because I looked at years of a life marked and marred by chronic illness which were relatively barren and I had come to a place where I understood this dimension of canon 603 life clearly. I therefore also had been given a word of grace to speak from out of my own relative barrenness, and more, from out of its redemption when indeed Jesus extended a hand to me and lifted me up to a wholeness and to the word which made sense out of my entire life. That word is, "the silence of solitude." This word points to that place in each of us where human brokenness and Divine holiness and healing come together and we become truly whole and still. It is the state of union which stands irrevocably at the root of our being and which we are called to allow to pervade every moment and mood of our lives. For hermits, it is the loving reality they wish above all to allow their lives to witness to.

We are blessed when our lives comes together in a way which allows them to be summed up in such a simple but rich symbol. We are even more blessed when that symbol can serve to lift up others and transform their lives as well. So, while the writing has been difficult despite all I have blogged about this topic in the past several years, I recognize that the term "the silence of solitude" reflects the hand Jesus reached out to me to lift me up and the spirit with which he healed me precisely so that I could serve my church and world as a whole and contemplative individual --- indeed, as an authentic hermit. After all, it is so very painful not to be able to give back, not to be able to share what is deepest in oneself, and certainly, not to have a unique word of your own to speak to those in similar situations.

So, yes, I heard today's Gospel rather differently than I have in the past and I am grateful for Jesus' tenderness in "lifting me up" to new and incredibly meaningful life. But I am also grateful to Peter's MIL who reminds us all of the joy of service which flows from being lifted up in such a way. After all, as we also are reminded, "My word shall not return to me void!" My own life is one of learning to trust that promise --- just as the pre-Christmas stories and today's Gospel also invite us all to.