Questions Pointing to a Hermit's Fundamental Experience and Vision of c 603 Life

Dear Sister Laurel, [[How many spiritual direction clients in a day are prudent or wise? Is a diocesan hermit bound to all of the Offices [Liturgy of Hours or Divine Office] or how does one know what is prudent for the amount of Offices in a day. Are hermits allowed to have a pet (a diocesan hermit), because how does this relate to the vow of poverty? Is it best to have Certain times to check email and messages? Family visits? Yes? No? If so how long? Outings with close friends from time to time? Yes or no? Friends or benefactors to do grocery pickup? Should hermits go to stores?]]

In the main, these sound to me like the kinds of questions those just beginning to consider eremitical life might ask. They are good questions because, for the most part, they point to deeper and more fundamental issues an aspiring diocesan hermit is likely to need to implement and even struggle with. These questions might be an important part of that process, but they are less important than the underlying eremitical foundation that needs to be established. They are not questions to which I can give an answer that is carved in stone because each one must be worked out by the hermit over time with the assistance of a spiritual director or mentor as the hermit candidate begins to think about their Rule of Life. (And actually, these look like exactly the questions one might ask if one was creating a Rule of Life that was composed of "do's and don'ts" or "how often and how much" kinds of points rather than a Rule rooted in a lived experience of some years reflecting a vision of eremitical life under c 603.) Because these questions remind me of the questions asked by those who are new to eremitical life, especially if they have never been aided in writing a liveable Rule of Life (or who also may never have lived one before), I am going to approach them this way. I think that will be most helpful, particularly since the questioner agreed to my posting them here in the hope they could help others.

So, as I begin to respond to these questions, let me suggest that other posts I have put up here on writing a liveable Rule or writing a Rule of Life are important as background and should be referred to. The most important caveat I can reiterate is that if one is writing a Rule of Life that is truly liveable, it must be rooted in the candidate's lived experience. Expect that the process of preparing to write and writing such a Rule with the help of a mentor will, on average, take approximately two to four years depending on the degree of preparation one has in this. This process is important for candidates and their dioceses in discerning and providing the appropriate formation needed to live c 603 eremitical life well. A liveable Rule can never be just a list of things I do and things I avoid doing (though it will likely include some of these). Each of the questions above needs to fit organically and integrally into a sound vision of eremitical life that is edifying to the Church and world! They must demonstrate a sense of c 603 and what living the terms of that canon means and requires of the individual hermit!! All of my responses to these questions presuppose this fundamental truth.

How many spiritual direction clients in a day are prudent or wise? First of all, it must always be remembered that hermits who do spiritual direction are primarily hermits. We are called to live the silence of solitude and stricter separation from the world (i.e., that which is resistant to Christ), and only thereafter or within this foundational context are we involved in limited ministry.  So, for instance, I don't see clients every day (or even every week) and I rarely see more than two or three on the days I do see clients. The same is true of mentoring other hermits or hermit candidates. To do more than this demands more time and energy than I have to give to this, and it begins to be destructive of my eremitical life itself. Others will have different circumstances than I do and may be able to see more clients.  Even so, every c 603 hermit must remember that active ministry is always a part-time and significantly limited part of our lives. If we do this kind of work, it must spill over from our lives in the silence of solitude and draw us back into this context as well. Especially, it must not be a relief from our silence of solitude or something we do to give our lives meaning. Instead, it must be a limited activity we offer to others because our lives already have a fullness of meaning, the meaning that comes from being called to be a solitary hermit who witnesses to the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Our ministry to others is an expression of this meaning spilling over beyond the hermitage walls.

Unless the hermit is also a priest, or writes this requirement into his/her Rule, the c 603 hermit is not required (in Law) to say any hours of the Liturgy of the Hours. That said, it is really difficult for me to understand how a hermit living in and as part of the beating the heart of the Church could live a day without praying the official Prayer of the Church in some significant way. Some hermits pray 2 or 3 of the hours (Lauds, Vespers, Compline, and Vigils or the Office of Readings are the major ones included here) while others pray at least some of the minor hours as well.  We each need to find out the number of Hours necessary as an aid to praying our day, in fact, in praying our very lives day in and day out. For some, the LOH is really helpful in this and especially, it allows us to be true to an ecclesial vocation reflecting belonging to and representing the long Judeo-Christian tradition of prayer. For many of us praying the Hours also reminds us of our standing as religious under c 603. Personally, I understand the LOH to be a striking symbol of this (c 603) vocation's ecclesial nature and a significant way to ensure our lives are steeped in Scripture.

Diocesan hermits are allowed to have pets, of course. (Anchorites are often known for having a cat, for instance!) Your question is really about evangelical or religious poverty though. Some hermits would see the cost of caring adequately for a pet (food, medical care, time for adequate exercise and play, and training (not for cats, of course!)) as making such a pet an extravagance or a distraction. Others of us find the pets necessary as part of our vocation both to be fully human and to care for God's creation as we can. Poverty has never been defined in only one way in the history of religious life or the Gospel Counsels. So, for instance, Franciscan poverty is different from Benedictine poverty is different from Carmelite poverty, and so on. 

Myself with Merton the Tom (RIP)

Similarly, the poverty enjoined on laypersons by the Gospel differs significantly from religious poverty because laypersons tend to have to care for their families, provide for the education of children, and sometimes care for elderly parents or other relatives as well, yet every Christian is called to this Evangelical Counsel in some sense. In my own approach to the religious poverty of the consecrated vocation, I stress complete dependence on God. Finances are a secondary part of that, but they are a real part of it nonetheless. My own income is very limited (about $1200 a month). I do have a cat and that expense is offset by sacrifices I make so that I may care for him. "Sneezy", however, is a literal gift of God to me (he showed up one Winter with a bad cold and took up residence) and provides me with things money cannot buy; I have determined it is important to my own health and wholeness to make these accommodations, at least at the present time.

I do think it is important to have times (morning, afternoon, and evening for example) to check and respond to email, yes. This is especially important when one has clients, one might need to get back to quickly. Still, it is not something one usually schedules unless one has difficulty staying away from the computer!!). Instead, it is something one's schedule allows for when one is free from other activities/periods. For instance, I may check email and messages before breakfast or supper and again before Compline and bed. If I am writing for several hours, I may break from that and check email then because I am already working at my computer. (If I am journaling, that is a different matter and while I may break for a cup of tea or a snack, I will not check email or messages then.) In this small matter too it is up to the individual to reflect on what their lived experience has taught them and work out a solution that allows them to live the terms of c 603 and their own Rule with integrity.

Home visits or visits with relatives and friends should be worked out in the same way as appointments with clients, and access to email and messaging. What is truly healthy for the individual hermit and her way of life? What is truly loving? What can she manage financially or in terms of her schedule? When does contact with others begin to detract from the silence of solitude and stricter separation, for instance? For some people time with family will be brief because we really do need to get back to our ordinary schedule and activities (families can be demanding in many ways!); frequency and duration are something a hermit must determine for themselves. I will make one caveat though; namely, a hermit should be able to lay aside a lot of (the details of) her hermit life for the relatively brief time she is with her family. She should be present to these others as the person they (each) know and love. She must not "play hermit" or (within reason, of course) refuse to participate in the activities they enjoy and want to share with her. I once read a hermit write about "only talking about spiritual things" when with her loved ones. One can always ask what, when looked at in the way God does, is NOT a spiritual thing, but the way to approach this matter, I sincerely believe, is for the hermit to simply be entirely present in all she is and does with family and, in this way, bring God's love to bear (but also discover and contemplate this same love as it is present) within the family.

Generally speaking, there is no reason a hermit should not go to stores to pick up what is needed. It has all kinds of benefits both for the hermit and for those she might meet and talk with during such trips! Hermits are not recluses, at least the vast majority are not. I have my groceries delivered and began that because of the pandemic. I continue it because it is very helpful and convenient for getting everything I need (I don't drive so carrying things home is difficult). And sometimes I simply need to get out of my hermitage and, if needed, to run errands. At those times, I meet people, converse, maybe stop to have a brief coffee with someone who would like to talk, etc. Again, generally speaking, all of that is fine. The thing we need to be aware of is who we are in these times and what we truly need. If our eremitical life is sound, we will want to get back home as soon as is practicable and we should be able to settle into our usual routine when we return. 

Again, it is up to each hermit, her vision of the life, and her Rule of Life to determine how she answers these and other questions. Circumstances change and things that would be permissible at one time might be something one needs to skip at another. In all situations, our lives are lived in dialogue with God in the silence of solitude, and whatever choices we make need to continue that dialogue.

On c 603 Vocations and Bankruptcy

[[Dear Sister, if a person is discerning a vocation as a diocesan hermit but has had a bankruptcy, how does this affect their petition to be admitted to public profession and consecration?]]

Brand new question for me! Thanks. I would say that unless there is a reason for the diocese to doubt one's ability to support oneself adequately and prudently as a hermit, I can’t see any reason a bankruptcy would affect the discernment of such a vocation. If, however, this (bankruptcy) bears on the candidate's ability to vow and live religious poverty, to deal with (and avoid) significant debt, to prioritize and moderate one's spending (some expenses are necessary for the diocesan hermit when they might not be for the lay hermit), and other similar issues like assuring adequate medical insurance, housing, formation, etc, then one's diocese might well be concerned by it.

The candidate will know the reasons for the bankruptcy and the diocese, I think, has a right to know what these were or are. Similarly both the diocese and the candidate will need to discern the candidate's capacity for living religious poverty and supporting herself as a diocesan hermit. Insofar as the bankruptcy is a matter of the past alone it should not matter. To the extent it reveals things about the candidate and her relationship with money, or her ongoing needs, impulses, habits, priorities, etc, it will bear on the mutual discernment she and the diocese undertake.

I should note that as I understand it, bankruptcy wipes out significant debt, but also ruins one's credit-worthiness for some time. This takes care of the problem of significant debt --- hermit candidates cannot be admitted to public profession with significant debt; however, it may also cause the diocese some legitimate concern that the hermit will be able to manage finances, house themselves, take care of medical expenses (especially unexpected expenses) and the like. If the bankruptcy is recent a diocese may decide prudentially to prolong the period of discernment for several years until the candidate has established a good track record with finances and so forth. Hermits sign a waiver of liability on the occasion of their perpetual profession which makes it very clear that their dioceses are not responsible in any way for financial support. Still, and partly for this very reason, dioceses must be certain a hermit can and will live religious poverty (which is not the same as simply being materially poor) and that she be able to support herself accordingly without significant debt and/or default. This is only just since these are things the hermit will be called upon to witness to in her life as a consecrated religious.

I hope this is helpful! Be assured of my prayers. Please remember me in your own.

Everyone is called to the Evangelical Counsel of Poverty

In the readings from two Fridays** ago one of the themes which stood out was that of poverty especially expressed in the phrase "the poor in spirit" of the responsorial psalm. In my own life I have recently been reminded of the various ways this crucial value has been embodied in the life of the Church. For instance, a cloistered nun may have a solemn vow of poverty and this means she is unable to own anything at all; even more it means she must get permission for anything she needs in order to accept gifts, etc. I was reminded of this recently because I am in contact with a cloistered nun who is discerning a vocation to eremitical solitude and wishes to discern a vocation to canon 603 or solitary consecrated eremitical life. One of the things which will need to change significantly should Sister make the transition to exclaustration and then eventual profession as a diocesan hermit is her theology and vow of poverty; this is just one of the things which will take real discernment, prudence, and courage on her part. I say this because diocesan hermits are self-supporting, have no religious community with communal resources or others to administer our property, and must shape the content of our vows of poverty and the way we approach material wealth  accordingly.

Apostolic religious also vow poverty but generally speaking they have greater freedom than cloistered religious to do what they determine is needed in making purchases and so forth. Communities work out budgets and something akin to allowances for each Sister and most will have credit cards which allow them to buy what they need with appropriate discretion. The Sisters I know include what is called a cession of administration which cedes the administration of any property, inheritance, etc. they may receive or be given to another (usually the community or congregation). This is required by canon law and some diocesan hermits have been required by their dioceses to do the same despite the fact that poverty seen in this way is an essentially communally oriented vow. Meanwhile for apostolic religious the major expenses of each Sister are taken care of by the congregation. Still, such Sisters today will require Medicare or Medicaid and other assistance because congregations are increasingly poorer while their Sisters get older. Even so, these Sisters too vow a very real poverty and though it is shaped differently than that of the cloistered religious it is embraced with joy as one of the "Evangelical counsels" it is.

My own vow of poverty must reflect the fact that I, as a diocesan hermit, have much greater responsibility for money, bank accounts, possessions, insurance and other expenses than the average Apostolic Religious. At the same time it must be a vow of poverty that is recognizable as such. Thus, I defined poverty therein first of all in terms of my own radical human poverty and my complete dependence on the Life and presence of God. Everything else in my life and in my Rule flows from that. I affirm both poverty and great wealth in my vow but these have little to do with day to day finances. On the other hand to live this vow is to ensure that I do not turn to material goods for a sense of wealth or wellbeing. It asks that I see all of reality with a reverence for its sacramentality as God's creation and that I use it with appropriate care. Because I am self-supporting I could not vow the kind of poverty cloistered monastics do; neither could I embrace the kind of poverty my director does, for instance --- though my life is much closer to hers than to my friend who is a cloistered nun. As noted above some c 603 hermits do have a cession of administration, especially if they own property, a hermitage, hold inheritances, or become a 501c(3), but I do not (I do not own a hermitage or property, have not  become a 501c3, and because I am a solitary hermit my diocese did not require it).

The vow reads:  [[I recognize and accept the radical poverty to which I am called in allowing God to be the sole source of strength and validation in my life. The poverty to which my brokenness, fragility, and weakness attest, reveal that precisely in my fragility I am given the gift of God’s grace, and in accepting my insignificance apart from God, my life acquires the infinite significance of one who knows she has been regarded by Him. I affirm that my entire life has been given to me as gift and that it is demanded of me in service, and I vow Poverty, to live this life reverently as one acknowledging both poverty and giftedness in all things, whether these reveal themselves in strength or weakness, in resiliency or fragility, in wholeness or in brokenness.]] I wonder who among us could not embrace the values in or make such a vow in some way.

So why is all this important? It is important because the readings from two weeks ago were meant to give us all a strong sense that each of us is called to embrace some real and recognizable form of poverty. What may not be known particularly well is that every Christian is called to embrace poverty in some real sense. The Evangelical Counsels are just what they say they are: namely, Gospel counsels binding on every baptized person who is called to proclaim the Gospel with their lives. These Counsels are not just for religious but for every Christian! Now, granted, this does not mean that every person will make vows in the same sense that Religious men and women do. Those responsible for families could not possibly make a vow like my director or I much less like my cloistered nun friend. It would be irresponsible. Instead Such persons must earn money, buy property and pay for all the things involved in living a healthy family life which allows children to be adequately educated, clothed, etc. And yet at the same time such folks are responsible for living the Evangelical Counsel in some substantive way.

As I understand Christian poverty it means our affirmation that God is our treasure and the ONE who is necessary if we are to live reverently and treat all things, places, and persons as gifts and as sacred. I believe if we can accept our own very human poverty in light of the unconditional and gratuitous Love of God, we will use material wealth and goods with a similar reverence. We will hold these things lightly, use them carefully, and buy them only as needed. We will be generous with them as God is generous with us (remember the parable of the two servants we also heard recently). My own vow may be a kind of paradigm of a vow that allows individuals to shape what it means in concrete material terms. In a cloistered context the congregation's proper law as well as canon law will spell out what this means. In an apostolic Religious' congregational context the institute's constitutions will spell out the shape the Evangelical Counsel of poverty will take. In the life of a diocesan hermit, the hermit's own Rule of Life will include a theology of poverty and specific ways the counsel is shaped in order to honor both poverty and the need to be self-supporting. A family or a single person, a retired widow or widower will shape these things as they discern they are called to.

Again, as I have written here before, [[the heart of religious poverty for me is dependence upon God which issues in a reverence for all that is part of my life. This attitude shapes my approach to owning and spending, to using and having, to acquiring or giving back, but it also shapes the way I see myself and others. Because God is first and last in importance, because he is the source of my life's meaningfulness and richness, and because I am committed to allowing that to be more and more true as life goes on, this means that I really have less need to own things, less need for novelty instead of the real newness God brings to everything and less need to shore up my own poverty and brokenness with "stuff."]] We are each called to embrace the Evangelical Counsel of poverty and shape it as is appropriate for our state and form of life. We do this as persons who are rich in God, secure in Christ, and made capable of proclaiming this in the power of the Spirit.

N.B., I should note that there are a number of "Evangelical counsels" but the three we recognize immediately are poverty, chastity and obedience. While not everyone is called to  enter the consecrated state by making public profession of these with vows and are not called to chastity in celibacy, religious obedience with legitimate superiors, or religious poverty, every Christian is meant to live some version of these three Counsels as significant values.

** 1Tim 6:2-12, Ps 49:6-10, 17-20, Lk 8:1-3

Religious Profession: Challenges to one vow are a Challenge to all of Them

[[Dear Sister O'Neal, I saw your vows from the first part of last month. Could I ask you which of these is the most difficult to live?]]

Thanks for your question. I am honestly not sure which single vow is most difficult because I rarely think of them as entirely separate from one another. You see, they overlap substantially and in fact, the way they are written is meant to create a single profession in which they build on and contribute to one another in a way which allows me to give my whole self. What I would like to do is indicate how this is so and provide an example of how personal challenges make ANY vow difficult from time to time. Please note that my focus in not on external elements so much as it is on the elements of my inner life that may distort the way I use or turn to those things outside myself whether these are material possessions (poverty) or involve the distortion of relationships (obedience and chastity).

Religious poverty:

I recognize and accept the radical poverty to which I am called in allowing God to be the sole source of strength and validation in my life. The poverty to which my brokenness, fragility, and weakness attest, reveal that precisely in my fragility I am given the gift of God’s grace, and in accepting my insignificance apart from God, my life acquires the infinite significance of one who knows she has been regarded by Him. I affirm that my entire life has been given to me as gift and that it is demanded of me in service, and I vow Poverty, to live this life reverently as one acknowledging both poverty and giftedness in all things, whether these reveal themselves in strength or weakness, in resiliency or fragility, in wholeness or in brokenness.

There are definitely times when this vow is the most difficult. It is ALWAYS the most fundamental one for me though I see consecrated celibacy as the vow which defines the goal and purpose of my life. Poverty demands a way of approaching and seeing reality which is counter intuitive; it is a sacramental way of seeing reality even when it is painful, terrifying, dark, distorted, and destructive. You see, it demands I truly trust in the God who comes to us in both brokenness and wholeness, the God who is with us precisely when we are experiencing those things which are terrifying, dark, distorted, and even potentially destructive as well as when we are experiencing their opposite.  It is easy (or at least it is easier I think) to close up or shut down at these times, easy to make ourselves less vulnerable, less stripped of those personal defenses which close our hearts and smother the pain or stifle the fear or terror we might otherwise experience.

It is easier to turn to things which distract and in some ways numb or deflect attention from  the pain and therefore from the challenging act of faith and the commitment to God I am called to make in such moments. (I think that is true for all of us. At these times especially I can understand why some people become shopaholics, watch TV 10 hours a day, immerse themselves in mystery novels or computer games, or even turn to drugs, etc.) Thus, while it is true that poverty requires letting go of many things and while it is true most folks think of poverty primarily in these terms I see the letting go of things or distractions as a means to an end (a faithful vulnerability) and I see the vow primarily in terms of that end more than I do the means.

In all of this my vow of poverty also overlaps significantly with a commitment to obedience. I am vowed to allow God to be the sole source of strength and validation in order to be a gift to others so while that means letting myself stand with a kind of nakedness psychologically or emotionally as well as materially it also demands an openness to the One who is the ground of existence and meaning (this openness is the very essence of obedience). Still, in order to hear and to orient my life around the commitment to seek God, to listen to and for God in the silence of solitude, to embrace God's call in the myriad ways it comes to me every day and to see everything as a sacramental source or mediator of grace, a certain personal, material, and emotional or psychological poverty, stripping, or breaking open is required. 

In this context, vulnerability is another word for the poverty I am vowed to embrace. Whether the value is cast in terms of simplicity, poverty, or any of the other contemporary formulations which are common today the real heart of the vow is vulnerability. This means vulnerability on a number of levels: to my inner life and to my personal history, vulnerability to the work it takes to move through any pain or trauma associated with this history and each present moment as well --- whether this is done alone or with assistance --- vulnerability to the even deeper and richer truth I carry within myself which may have gone unrecognized and undeveloped, and at all times a vulnerability to the God who summons me to more and more abundant life and wholeness in union with him. Sometimes I don't think I am capable of it, sometimes I do find it really terrifying and demanding of more courage, trust, energy and persistence than I believe I can muster. At  these times poverty (and the faith which it requires, calls for, and in some ways makes possible) is the most challenging counsel for me.

Religious Obedience:
 

I acknowledge and accept that God is the author of my life and that through his Word, spoken in Jesus Christ, I have been called by name to be. I affirm that in this Word, a singular identity has been conferred upon me, a specifically ecclesial identity which I accept and for which I am forever accountable. Under the authority of the Bishop of the Diocese of Oakland, I vow to be obedient: to be attentive and responsible to Him who is the foundation of my being, to his solitary Word of whom I am called to be an expression, and to the whole of His People to whom it is my privilege to belong and serve.

While poverty is challenging at times obedience is so closely related to poverty that it tends to  become challenging at the same times. Poverty means saying no to those things which keep us buffered, shielded, or otherwise protected from the demands of reality and especially from the call to life which comes to us from within as well as without. But poverty is something we embrace for the sake of obedience, that is, so that we might be truly open and responsive to God and God's call. We say no to some things and live that no in a general way so that we can say and live out a yes to the One who is far more important and in fact is (or is meant to be) the center of our lives. We allow ourselves to become and remain vulnerable in order to hear and to commit ourselves to the God who is the source of all life and meaning. Unfortunately, (or at least it seems unfortunate at times) our God's primary language is silence and additionally (he) often dwells in darkness --- or a light which is so bright as to seem as darkness to us. To embrace the vulnerability of poverty for the sake of obedience (responsiveness) in the silence of solitude can be painful, and thus terribly challenging as we desire something or someone to comfort us in more usual ways --- with a word or a touch or at least a gesture of recognition and affection. Obedience to God does not always allow this.

In my own life, obedience means learning to listen and respond to the God who speaks primarily in the silence of solitude and I find that especially difficult when I am challenged by vulnerability or am, for whatever reason, frightened by the circumstances of my life. The exact same things that I may sometimes use to distract myself from poverty are the things which can shield me from obedience: things --- especially new (neos) things which give the immediate but very temporary and sometimes false  sense of a newness (kainete) which only God can give (here books, which are often a means of genuine obedience, are instead an important culprit), activities which are meant to fill the silence or blunt the solitude rather than to be part of an environment which truly leads to recreation in Christ. Similarly, it seems to me that obedience per se is not a problem unless poverty in the sense noted above (poverty as vulnerability) is also problematical. At the same time obedience overlaps substantially with chastity (consecrated celibacy) because it is the fundamental attitude of one who is open to truly loving God and others.

Consecrated Celibacy or Chastity:

Acknowledging that I have been called to obedient service in and of the Word of God, and acknowledging that Jesus’ gift of self to me is clearly nuptial in character, I affirm as well that I am called to be receptive and responsive to this compassionate and singular redemptive intimacy as a consecrated celibate. I do therefore vow chastity, this last definitive aspect of my vocation with care and fidelity, forsaking all else for the completion that is mine in Christ, and claiming as mine to cherish all that is cherished by Him.

I think it is clear from the first sentence of this vow that I see consecrated celibacy as building on both poverty and obedience. The capacity to love as this vow calls me (or anyone else) to is predicated on the capacity to let myself be vulnerable, open to, and responsive to God. Likewise it is grounded in God's love sufficiently to meet others with that same love. For me the vulnerability and responsiveness called for and empowered by religious poverty and obedience are matched by a vulnerability rooted in a personal security one knows only because she is loved with an everlasting love by God. It is a bit of an irony: a creative vulnerability is possible only because of this transcendently grounded security. This security is the fruit of being loved and held securely by God which is only known in faith. In light of this it is possible to see that celibate love is the compassionate love made possible by all that poverty and obedience opens us to. Similarly it can and often will be hampered by the same things that hamper either poverty or obedience.

If the vulnerability which characterizes true poverty is difficult for me for some reason  I will generally be far less able to be present and truly responsive to others --- beginning with God. Even more, that failure in responsiveness will lead to and represent a failure to love generously and selflessly. It might well cause (or at least tempt) me to withdraw in ways which are unhealthy rather than being expressions of eremitical anachoresis. In each vow then there are symptoms of a more serious dis-ease and disorder. With poverty the most common symptom of underlying dis-ease or disorder is an unhealthy attachment to things which numb and distract as they claim (or maybe consume is the better word) our capacities for giving ourselves in love; I find the same tends to be true of obedience though willfulness or an insistence on controlling reality are also common symptoms of a disorder here. As just noted with consecrated celibacy the most common symptom (for me anyway) is an unhealthy withdrawal though the distortions of healthy relatedness, sexuality, and intimacy may also occur and are what we usually think of as violations of chastity or consecrated celibacy.

I hope this is helpful for you. I realize I can't simply say one of these vows is more difficult for me because of the way I understand them. I can say that they are each expressions of faith. For that reason any significant challenge to faith, any challenge, that is, to my capacity to be vulnerable or trust and thus too to be open, or to love generously and selflessly is a challenge to my vows and may affect my ability to live each and all of them in the same way pulling a single thread affects other threads and, in fact, the integrity of the entire fabric.

Question on Religious Poverty and the Diocesan Hermit

[[Dear Sister, Can a hermit own her own property? In particular I was thinking if it was small and only sufficient for her needs. What is your status with regard to your hermitage? How does this line up with your vow of poverty?]]

Please do check other posts on poverty since I have written about this before (one link is included at the end of this post). Yes, hermits may certainly own their own hermitages. So long as they can maintain the property and care for themselves this is probably the best way to go. Remember that diocesan hermits are required to be self-supporting so although they live very poorly and in some cases have executed a cession of administration as part of their vow of religious poverty, poverty for the solitary hermit does not involve a vow which prohibits them from owning anything. That is more fitting for a hermit who belongs to a community which provides for their care and ordinary needs.

I rent the place where I live. Since my vow of poverty is in line with a Benedictine conception of poverty as well as with the requirements of canon 603 I own a number of things a Franciscan hermit might not, for instance, nor someone living in community where the congregation shares some essentials and have physical facilities which support the common life. I have a significant theological library and a good spirituality collection besides because I need these for my own work and spiritual nourishment as well. (These are pretty standard in community of course.) I own a computer which allows me to write and serves as a window on the world around me --- but also allows limited contact with others in case of need or question. I own the wherewithal to listen to liturgical music -- thus iPod, CD's, CD player, etc. I maintain the necessary accouterments for a small chapel where Eucharist is reserved. Further, the expenses which fall to me additionally include: rent, utilities,  cable/phone, insurance, food, education, retreat, spiritual direction or supervision, transportation, clothing, recreation, and health/exercise needs.

My own vow of poverty reads as follows: [[I recognize and accept the radical poverty to which I am called in allowing God to be the sole source of strength and validation in my life. The poverty to which my brokenness, fragility, and weakness attest, reveal that precisely in my fragility I am given the gift of God’s grace, and in accepting my insignificance apart from God, my life acquires the infinite significance of one who knows she has been regarded by Him. I affirm that my entire life has been given to me as gift and that it is demanded of me in service, and I vow Poverty, to live this life reverently as one acknowledging both poverty and giftedness in all things, whether these reveal themselves in strength or weakness, in resiliency or fragility, in wholeness or in brokenness.]]

You see, the heart of religious poverty for me is dependence upon God which issues in a reverence for all that is part of my life. This attitude shapes my approach to owning and spending, to using and having, to acquiring or giving back, but it also shapes the way I see myself and others. Because God is first and last in importance, because he is the source of my life's meaningfulness and richness, and because I am committed to allowing that to be more and more true as life goes on, this means that I really have less need to own things, less need for novelty instead of the real newness God brings to everything and less need to shore up my own poverty and brokenness with "stuff." In any case, you might want to look at the following article as well on the matter of religious poverty: Eremitical Poverty and the Diocesan Hermit

Always Beginners

[[Dear Sister Laurel, you wrote that hermits feel like novices even after living the life for decades. Why is that? I think Saint Teresa of Avila said like she always felt like a beginner in prayer. Are you speaking of the same experience?]]

Re your first query, what a terrific question --- and a difficult one too! I have never really thought about why one always feels like a beginner at living as a hermit even when one has lived this way for years (which, as I think about it, is definitely not the same as being a novice or neophyte),  but I would say that a large part of it has to do with the reason we are always beginners in prayer, yes. In other words, your question is a profoundly theological one and the answer itself has to do with the nature of God and the nature of prayer.

It is important to remember that prayer is more the action of God than that of human beings. Even when we define it as raising our minds and hearts to God we are speaking of something both initiated and empowered by God. Prayer is God at work in us, and when we speak of prayer periods or engaging in prayer we are speaking of those privileged or dedicated times we allow God to work more freely in us than we may at other times. Therefore, it is not, by definition, something we can become practiced at even though the smallest part of it involves our own actions and dispositions. While we can learn to relax physically, become comfortable in silence, deal with thoughts and distractions, open ourselves more or less to God's presence, a large part of prayer (including our desire to pray) is what God does within us --- and there is always a newness and a kind of incommensurability about this --- even when God's movement within us is subtle at best.

I think the second reason is related. When God is active within us, and especially when we open ourselves to that activity, we change. Our hearts become deeper and more expansive in their capacity to love, our eyes and ears are opened to the really real (Ephphatha!), our minds are also converted, and everything looks and feels differently because we ourselves are different. Thus, through the power of God we are attuned more and more to the eternal which interpenetrates our world and this means that things are never old, never static, and perhaps no longer really completely familiar. I think that ordinarily a piece of judging whether we are a beginner or not is gained by comparing how familiar doing something is. When these things are familiar there is an ease about them, and we are able to gauge the expected results without much conscious attention to things. With prayer, however, we are constantly being brought into a "far country" and in contact with a dynamic, living God we cannot imagine much less set forth expectations about. There is a sense of adventure here, even when it is very very muted; I am not sure that adventure in these terms is ever something we are "old hands" at.

At the same time there is also monotony and sometimes a tedium about eremitical life; like everyone we may crave short term novelty and distraction, but be uncomfortable with the patience and persistence required for genuine newness. Our world often mistakes novelty for authentic newness and we are profoundly accustomed to and conditioned by this. Yet, the yearning for real newness is a part of our very being. (In the NT there are two different words for new which accent this distinction. The first is kaines or kainetes which indicates a newness of character which is superior and respects the old; the second is neos which means new in time but can also mean a denigration of the traditional or the old.) The situation of monotony and tedium is exacerbated because prayer can seem like nothing at all happens despite our trust (knowledge) that God is present within us working, touching, loving, recreating, and healing.

In the short term especially we may not be able to see or sense the changes that are occurring within us and since the hermitage itself changes very little, in worldly terms we think we are not progressing. This too can make us feel like beginners because we don't feel "we are getting anywhere". It might seem that this conflicts with what I said above about the adventure of prayer, but it is more the case that both things are occurring at the same time and we see one or the other according to our perspective. I think though, that this set of reasons (focusing on our own progress in worldly terms) is far less significant or influential for contemplatives --- and that is especially true if we are speaking of St Teresa of Avila or someone similar.

In light of what I said about the distinction between novelty and authentic newness above, it occurs to me that some folks imagine heaven (the realm where God is truly Lord) as really tedious or boring (thus they fill it or at least imagine it filled with activities!); but the simple fact is that the God who is eternal and living is, for these very reasons, always new. Our own yearning for newness is a yearning for God and life with God, not a desire for novelty or distraction. (One of the reasons Christians embrace some form of poverty, by the way, is precisely to be sure their lives are attuned to the new (kaines, kainetes) rather than to the novel (neos). For those truly attuned to the new there is therefore less need to become shopaholics, less need for every new gadget or electronic gizmo. But the novel is seductive and religious poverty as value or vow helps limit the degree to which it seduces us!!) It seems to me that to the degree we are truly attuned to God's presence and live in grateful communion with him, to the extent we really are a new creation, all is new to us as well. We experience all of this with gratitude and the sense that we are always beginners.

I will definitely think about this more --- especially the link between gratitude and always being beginners just opened in the last sentences. The entire reality is fascinating, both as a topic and especially as an experience to which persons of prayer witness; so again, many thanks for the questions. I am sorry I don't have a better answer, but for the time being I hope this is helpful.

Eremitical Poverty and the Diocesan Hermit

I was recently asked how the eremitical vow of poverty worked for a diocesan hermit. Specifically, the question ran as follows:

[[I was wondering if you would blog about how hermits live out their vow of poverty, particularly with regard to their cession of the administration of property and how the hermit handles immediate financial needs and other requirements of life. This situation appears to be an oxymoron. I would greatly appreciate your insight.]]

The issue of cession of administration is not a central one in the grand scheme of eremitical poverty because not every diocese requires this of her diocesan hermits. On the other hand every hermit DOES vow religious or evangelical poverty and writes a Rule of Life which covers that. Unfortunately, while I can say a little about cession of administration, I cannot do so from a first hand perspective (at least not as a hermit) since my diocese did NOT require this of me.

Let me say up front that I don't understand how cession of administration works for individual or solitary hermits and I have asked a canonist for additional information on this. Generally it works better (as far as I can see) for hermits who are part of an Order/Congregation and who are in simple vows preparing for Solemn profession when they will give up all rights to ownership or acquiring of property. These hermits do not have the same requirements or responsibilities as diocesan hermits do re support of self, financial independence, etc, so the cession of administration while in simple vows makes more sense. It frees up the hermit for a life of contemplation, in a way which is optimal even while it allows for the possibility of leaving the congregation before solemn or definitive vows and makes sure the hermit will have property to return to to allow life outside the congregation should that be necessary.

However, for those really wishing more information on this than I can provide, I would suggest they contact the Vicar for Religious (or Consecrated Life) of Diocese of La Crosse (for instance), which I believe DOES require a document formalizing the cession of administration/usufruct of goods and property of its diocesan hermits. If you are a candidate for Canon 603 profession and are being asked to do this by your own diocese, contact the canonist there for more information and discuss the matter. When I have more information myself I will add that here or in a new post.

That said, I believe the questioner has put her finger on a practice which seems to me like a bit of a legal (and spiritual) shell-game when applied to diocesan hermits with perpetual vows. I personally see a conflict between requiring cession of administration and the requirement that the diocesan hermit be self-supporting and financially independent of the diocese. Neither do I personally understand how ceding the administration of property and yet retaining the use of it (again assuming one is a perpetually professed hermit) actually assists one to live out poverty in a responsible way. One has not really divested oneself of the property (it is really still one's own as far as I understand the situation) and one can fool oneself into thinking one is living poverty simply because one is merely "using" this property, etc.

On the other hand (trying to be evenhanded here), I can see how this could conceivably inhibit a hermit from acquiring more property and contribute to a careful use of what is at her disposal, and if it does this as well as remind the hermit that she is, in some ways, merely using or even "borrowing" what she needs and nothing more, such a practice could well contribute to her genuine practice of poverty.

The larger question posed by the questioner is how a diocesan hermit lives eremitical poverty despite being responsible for immediate financial needs and so forth. The answer is, I believe, that poverty must be understood in a way which makes trust in and dependence upon God primary and a correlative simplicity of life and relative financial poverty (NOT destitution!) a constant goal and context for who one is. I think that is true with regard to cession of administration of property for it MAY invite a person to depend upon and trust in God alone. What is most basic to eremitical poverty is always openness to and dependence upon God as the sole source of life and meaning. Any acquisitiveness which detracts from this is something the hermit deals with as it comes up.

However, acquisitiveness aside, the diocesan hermit is responsible for her own income, rent, insurance (including medical insurance), transportation expenses, food, utilities, annual or bi-annual retreat, library and media, education (ongoing formation including professional and other continuing education is indispensable), spiritual direction, religious goods and supplies, clothes, computer and internet hookup (if she requires these), taxes, and burial expenses, etc. The diocese is responsible for NONE of these (some dioceses will include a hermit under their diocesan insurance I have heard, but it is not usual and not something one can count on), so religious poverty for the diocesan hermit means being very clear regarding what is essential in light of the above constraints and requirements. Remember that there are many expressions of religious poverty (Franciscan differs from Benedictine differs from Carmelite, etc). The hermit is responsible for deciding which of these best fits her circumstances, writing that into her Rule (which is then approved by her Bishop) and then living it out ever more fully and responsibly.

I begin (and end!) my own approach to and vow of poverty with humble (truthful and loving) dependence on God because I think it is the heart of religious poverty. For me the whole attitude and reality of this kind of poverty is summed up in Paul's statement in 2 Corinthians, "My grace is sufficient for you; my power is perfected in weakness." Religious and human poverty is the counterpart of divine grace. After all, one may live frugally or even in financially impoverished circumstances and not be living religious poverty because one is not essentially dependent upon God as the sole source of life, meaning, and validation. One does (or at least may) not allow one's innate poverty and weakness to be the counterpart of divine grace. When one begins with material poverty, this may or may not lead one to the necessary poverty of spirit the evangelical counsel requires.

I also find that once one begins to pay attention first of all to dependence upon God, and to being honest and transparent regarding our own essential and undeniable human weakness and poverty, the financial/material part of things falls into place and one simply needs less and less. (When expenses start to increase for some reason, for instance, it is a good time to look at the poverty of spirit side of things as well because the material part of eremitical poverty is affected directly by the existential or poverty of spirit part -- often more than economic inflation and other factors bring about!) Many hermits also make a yearly accounting of expenses for their Bishop and this too assists them to be careful and responsible in such matters. The two prongs of the vow of poverty, and of the life of poverty (poverty of spirit and economic and material poverty and simplicity) mutually influence one another so one needs to take care of both of them.

I realize this is a very general answer, and that perhaps the questioner had more specific things in mind. If so, I hope she will get back to me on this.