On the Presence of Loneliness in the Eremitical Vocation

[[Dear Sister, when you were a new hermit for the Diocese of Oakland, there was an interview with a spokesperson for the Diocese, a priest, and he said something about you being joyful or happy all the time. He asked, "Can you imagine spending all of your time with the Lord and not being happy?"  or something like that. Do you remember that? Did you know him? I'm asking because from what you've written recently about existential solitude and loneliness, and everything, I am wondering what you thought about that comment of his!]] 

LOL!! What a great question!!! Thanks for asking! No, I did not know him, had never spoken to him, and I believe that the journalist who also interviewed me must've commented to him on my being a happy person or some other comment like that. That's the only thing I can think of that might have prompted such a response, given we had never met. At the time, I remember thinking, "Yes, I am really happy, and yet, here's another hermit stereotype that must be countered." It's not the first time I have heard something like that either. Early on after perpetual profession and consecration, I went on retreat at Bishop's Ranch, the Episcopal retreat center in Northern California's wine country. During one of the presentations in preparation for a desert day everyone was going to observe during that week, the priest speaking to everyone decided to encourage us retreatants not to worry about being lonely during a full day of solitude. He explained about hermits and how they were never lonely because they always had God with them. I was more than a little irritated by his comments and (though I should have remained silent) said so to Sister Donald as we left the chapel and started back toward our rooms.

Some have a sense that being lonely is unhealthy or even somehow pathological,* and that when one is living in eremitical solitude, God's presence prevents one from feeling lonely, for example. But sometimes loneliness is the face love (and the fact that we are made for love) wears in eremitical (or existential) solitude. Sometimes loneliness is the feeling most associated with our hunger for God and for wholeness and holiness, while that hunger is a sign of our knowledge of these realities as well as of our lacking them in some sense. Years ago, I began to distinguish between the loneliness I associated with wanting to share with others and a kind of "malignant loneliness" that is darker and (perhaps) deeper as well. In my mind, this latter form of loneliness was unhealthy and a symptom of an unhealthy existential condition, while "ordinary" loneliness was not. I was still struggling with the sense others had given me that hermits should never be lonely because they dwell with God. It took some time to shake that false generalization off completely.

Sr M Beverly Greger, Marymount Hermitage, Idaho

For most hermits, time in physical solitude is wonderful and something we love. We have the time for prayer and lectio, for writing or whatever ministry we might also take on, as well as for recreation and inner work. The existential solitude we live is also something we generally experience as positive, even joyful, and something that draws us in. When Cornelius Wencel speaks about that, he describes it in terms of two freedoms meeting each other.  It is what we human beings are made for, and most of the time it is experienced as consoling, creative, and a source of deep peace, abundant life, and gladness. What I have written about recently is merely one dimension of that same journey into existential solitude, but it is still an undeniable part of that journey.  In other words, loneliness, too, is part of the eremitical journey and wears different faces depending on the reasons for its existence. In a life of continuing communion and even union with God, this is still, or perhaps especially, the case. It is not necessarily a signal that anything is wrong. Instead, it reminds us that we are each social, communal, relational, or "dialogical" realities, made for love, as is our vocation. (It is striking to me that the Camaldolese Benedictines write about their lives and vocations as "the privilege of love." Eremitical Solitude itself is a communal reality, something we only experience within and in light of our truly belonging to and living our lives for God, the ecclesial community, and the wider world. 

While we are made for love and, as is true of every human being, are each relational to our core, we hermits forego many of the relationships and activities that are literally fulfilling for most people; we do this because God calls us to underscore the fact that every person is made for life with and in God. This is the source of the affirmation, "God alone is enough for us," not because we do not need other people, but because only God truly completes any person as a human being. This side of death, our sense of that "made-for-ness", our hunger for it, and the One who is its ground and source, can certainly be associated with feelings of loneliness, even to the point of great anguish. What hermits reject are the almost infinite ways human beings find to distract themselves from such loneliness. In fact, as I have been writing recently, we commit to journeying ever deeper into our existential solitude for the sake of seeking God, and an affirmation of the truth that God both is and most desires and wills to be Emmanuel (God with us).

* Some forms of loneliness are indeed unhealthy, and chronic loneliness, especially when it is rooted in childhood loss or trauma and associated attachment difficulties, is linked to serious health problems in later life. These include all manner of common ailments, including chronic pain, depression, anxiety disorders, and many others. I am not speaking of this kind of loneliness as intrinsic to eremitical life, although for some, it can certainly color, complicate, and perhaps also motivate a focused and deep journey into existential solitude.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alone a Lot: A Call to Eremitical Life??

[[Dear Sister, if a person is alone a lot in their life or have been alone a lot, does this mean God is telling them they should become a hermit? As an older adult I am dealing with chronic illness but I have also been alone a lot in my life because of a dysfunctional family and other circumstances. It never occurred to me that living as a hermit was something I could do, and honestly I never would have wanted to do that, but now I am wondering if maybe I haven't missed God's call and that maybe he is saying, "I want you to be a hermit!"]]

Thanks for your questions. They are important. I may have answered something similar in the past so look through posts on discerning an eremitical vocation for further responses. (I have definitely written a lot about chronic illness so I will not do that here.) The first question has to be answered no. If a person has been alone a lot, especially in the circumstances you describe (dysfunctional family and chronic illness) this does not necessarily mean they are being called to be a hermit. Most of the time it will mean just the opposite. In the case of a dysfunctional family it may well be that what God is really calling a person to is healing from the trauma and woundedness occasioned by the family dynamics and from there moving forward to real family life and a strongly social life of generosity and compassion. Certainly God is calling such a person to healing and wholeness, to the capacity to really love others and to receive love. Where that is to be achieved and what one is called to do once that healing is largely in hand is another question which will need to be carefully discerned.

The point is that God did not will the family dysfunction nor does it automatically point to a vocation to be a hermit. God can and will use the circumstances of one's life to create something wonderful and unexpected but what that is in any individual case is not always easy to discern. It is not necessarily obvious. What has to be discerned in determining whether one is called to be a hermit or not is how one thrives or fails to thrive in physical solitude and external silence. For instance, in some cases where family dysfunction leads to the isolating of children and adolescents, physical (and emotional!) solitude itself becomes mainly or primarily a destructive force in those persons' lives. It also becomes self-reinforcing: isolation leads to personal dysfunction in relating to others which leads to further isolation, etc. etc. Short periods of solitude may be helpful as in anyone's life but in such a case as this, to choose a life of eremitical solitude would be contrary to what God wills; it would lead to the further crippling and stunting of the person's human capacities.

In some instances of serious family dysfunction and related isolation, however, individuals may find that despite the isolation (which will still be harmful in such a situation), they somehow also managed to thrive in their physical solitude --- typically through experiences of transcendence which sustained and even inspired in profoundly creative ways. In such cases some healing will still need to be secured and some therapy will probably be necessary, but should such a person feel inclined to embrace eremitical solitude it will be because, to some extent, they developed "the heart of a hermit" during those difficult years at home and have a sense that they can and might well even be called at some point, to thrive in solitude as a result. Again, at the heart of such a sense is the fact that Solitude herself (solitude as hermits understand it) has opened her door to them and that physical solitude is a (and perhaps the) privileged place where God will speak to them and love them into wholeness. Some of these folks might well discern other vocations which require long periods of prayer, thought, study, solitary work, etc without ever becoming (or wanting to become) hermits. But to some extent or other, they will still have "the heart of a hermit" --- just not the actual vocation to eremitical life itself.

Eremitical solitude is neither a way to avoid the healing work needed when one has experienced serious occasions of unchosen and extended isolation, nor a way of validating these (much less extending them) and the harm they do; neither are these periods of themselves signs of a call to eremitical solitude. Because eremitical solitude is not the same as isolation, because it involves a profound (sense of) community and communion with God, a call to eremitical solitude must come to one in spite of such experiences of isolation and can only build on and further occasion healing from the damage done by such experiences. Again, the criterion for discernment in such instances is that the person thrives in eremitical solitude; it is an essentially creative environment or context where the person's capacity for creativity, and even more especially, for loving others and living in communion with God and all that is precious to God grows and matures.

When we ask what God is calling us to, the specific state of life and pathway (religious life, priesthood, marriage, dedicated singleness, lay or consecrated eremitical life, teaching, writing, etc) is heard only after we hear God say, "I want you to be whole and loved and capable of loving others with your whole self! I want you to be yourself and supremely happy in that!" Only then does God "say" (so to speak), "I want you to do this AS A hermit (etc)" The bottom line is the same: if a person does not achieve holiness, personal wholeness and deep happiness and joy in eremitical solitude, if they do not truly thrive there as compassionate and generous human beings, then that is not where God is calling them.