Why isn't it Enough. . .?? On Stricter Separation from the World (Reprise from 2008)

I received the following question via email: [[How does one determine one is called to an eremitical vocation? Why isn't it enough to be uncomfortable with the world or to desire to avoid it, and to wish to retire to solitude? Is this at least a sign of a genuine eremitical vocation?]]

In order to answer this (or at least the second part of the question, because I will need to answer the first part, the "how" question, separately), I want to first reprise what I wrote in an earlier post (cf., Post on January 14, 2008, The Unique Charism of the Diocesan Hermit) : [[One embraces eremitical silence, solitude, prayer, penance and greater separation from the world in order to spend one's life for others in this specific way. Whatever FIRST brings one to the desert (illness, loss, temperament, curiosity, a maturing need for the silence of solitude, etc) unless one learns to love God, oneself, and one's brothers and sisters genuinely and profoundly, and allows this to be the motivation for one's life, I don't think one has yet discerned, much less embraced, a call to diocesan (Canon 603) eremitism.

[[. . . let me say something here about the phrase "the world" in the above answers. Greater or stricter separation from the World implies physical separation, but not merely physical separation. Doesn't this conflict with what I said about the unique charism of the diocesan hermit? No, I don't think so. First of all, "the world" does NOT mean "the entire physical reality except for the hermitage or cell"! Instead, the term "the world" refers to those structures, realities, things, positions, values, etc which are antithetical to Christ and PROMISE FULFILLMENT or personal [dignity and] completion APART FROM GOD in Christ. Anything, including some forms of religion and piety can represent "the world" given this definition. "The world" tends to represent escape from self and God, and also escape from the deep demands and legitimate expectations others have a right to make of us as Christians. Given this understanding, some forms of "eremitism" may not represent so much greater separation from the world as they do unusually embodied capitulations to it. (Here is one of the places an individual can fool themselves and so, needs the assistance of the church to carry out an adequate and accurate discernment of a DIVINE vocation to eremitical life.)

reprise continues:

[[Not everything out in the physical world is "the World" hermits are called to greater separation from. Granted, physical separation from much of the physical world is an element of genuine solitude which makes discerning the difference easier. Still, I have seen non diocesan hermits who, in the name of "eremitical hiddenness" run from responsibilities, relationships, anything at all which could conceivably be called secular or even simply natural (as opposed to what is sometimes mistakenly called the supernatural). This is misguided, I believe, and is often more apt to point to the lack of an eremitical vocation at the present time than the presence of one.]]

The simple answer in light of what I have said before, then, is no, it is not nearly enough. We are speaking of a religious hermit --- one for whom the heart of her vocation is love, not only of God, but of all that God cherishes as well. I am interpreting your question to mean that avoidance of the world (in this case I mean the whole of reality outside the hermitage) is the dominating, even sole reason for embracing an eremitical life, that no other reason even comes close. Even if one finds oneself out of step with that world, determines she cannot fathom it, is misunderstood herself by it, and desires nothing more than to retreat from it, this is NOT the basis for an eremitical life, nor is it, all by itself, a sign of a genuine vocation. In fact, it is more likely a sign one is NOT called to such a vocation. This is especially true if one who is a novice to spirituality and eremitism takes one's sense of being out of step with the world, misunderstood by and unable to fathom it, as a sign one is radically different than it.

It is true because it neglects the simple fact that we are each and all of us part of the world, shaped and formed by it, and so, to greater and lesser extents, we carry it deeply in our own hearts, minds, and limbs. This is true whether one is speaking of the world as all of reality outside the hermitage, or "the world" in the strict monastic sense of "contemptus mundi" --- that which promises fulfillment apart from God. We carry the world within us in both senses, and of course, are called to love, transform and heal the world (in both senses) outside of the hermitage. In the negative or monastic sense of the term (that which promises fulfillment apart from God) we bring this to the hermitage in order to deal with it, to subject it to God's love and healing touch. We bring it to the hermitage not because we cannot understand it --- or it us, but because we understand it all too well and know that God's love is the only alternative to our own personal enmeshment in it. The dynamic you described is of a person running from this reality (and, in fact, from the whole of God's world), but the hermitage cannot be used to run FROM ONESELF, nor from God's good creation; it cannot be used as a place of escape but must instead be a place of confrontation and transformation, of love and healing.

To attempt to escape from the demands of the physical (spatio-temporal) world outside the "hermitage" is really to actually transform the "hermitage" into an outpost of what monasticism calls "the world." This is so because one of the signal qualities of "the world" and "worldliness" in the monastic sense is a refusal to face reality, which thus will also involve an inability to love it into wholeness. Therefore too, if the "hermitage" is merely or even mainly a refuge from all that one cannot face, understand, or deal adequately with, it has ceased to be a genuine hermitage in any Christian sense and instead is predicated on the very values of distraction, avoidance, escape, and inability to face forthrightly or love truly or deeply that which constitutes "the world". It is itself an instance of that very same world, an outpost of it and no true hermitage. To bring "the world" into the hermitage in this sense is far and away more dangerous and destructive than bringing in aspects of it openly and cautiously like TV, movies, news programs, computer, etc --- and we know how assiduously careful we must be about (and even generally resistant to) these latter inclusions!

There is a reason hermitages have been characterized as places of battle, as crucibles as well as oases of God's peace. Above all they are the places where, in the clear light of God's truth and love, one is asked to confront the demons one carries within oneself. Thomas Merton once wrote that the purpose of the hermitage was to allow a hermit to face the falseness, and distortions in oneself: "the first function of the hermitage is to relax and heal and to smooth out one's distortions and inhumanities." This is true, he says, because the mission of the solitary in the world is, "first the full recovery of man's natural and human measure." The hermit "reminds (others) of what is theirs to use if they can manage to extricate themselves from the web of myths and fixations which a highly artificial society has imposed on them." However, Merton knew all too well that the battle is waged inside the hermitage as well. One cannot witness to a world one refuses to understand as though one were really all that different from it. One cannot do so because one has not dealt with "the world" one carries deep within oneself, and which, in fact, one IS until one has been completely remade by God's love.

By the way, it is, of course, true that the hermit comes to love the solitude and silence of her hermitage, and she desires to be there, to go about her daily routine, to do all the small and large tasks and chores that come as part of the life there. A certain degree of discomfort with the world outside the hermitage will exist since she wants always to get back to the sacred space of silence and solitude which is her cell. However, and I cannot emphasize this enough, when she is outside the hermitage, she is completely capable of relating empathetically to others and so, understanding them and what drives them; she is able to delight in this world to the extent it is evidence of God's creativity and wonder, and to care deeply for it when it falls short of that glory. These people, places, and things are given her to love, to cherish in so far as they are God's own, and in so far as they possess the potential, no matter how yet-profoundly-unrealized, to mediate God's presence and love. This is a world the hermit knows to be very like herself in every way. Her vocation may be unique, but she is not. To the degree she is really a hermit she carries these persons, places, and things with her back to the hermitage to continue to love them, to pray for them, and also to let them love and shape her own life to the degree that is appropriate.

In NO WAY is the hermitage an escape from the world in this sense. It is the place from which the hermit lives to allow God's presence greater intensity and scope so that he might one day be "all in all" as the Pauline phrase goes. Again, this all gets back to what I said at the beginning: The basis for the eremitical life must be love; it cannot be escape. We are called to greater separation from the world only because love requires distance as well as closeness. But we embrace this separation in order that we may allow God's love full rein and scope, first in our own lives, and then, in the lives of all those others for whom we live.

On Excommunicated Hermits and Stricter Separation from the World

[[Dear Sister Laurel, in 2020 you wrote about three hermits who had been excommunicated. In your article the reporter whose article you criticized said that the three were not trying to build bridges to the world but rather to escape from it, cf., Excommunicated Hermits. You also wrote recently that CICLSAL has produced a guidance document for c 603 hermits which says clearly that hermits are not fleeing the world and you used the word escapist. You said hermits are not escapist (cf., Purpose of Stricter Separation from the World.) I have always heard monastics speaking of fleeing the world or embracing something called "contemptus mundi" which I believe means contempt for the world. So, here's my question: do you see yourself and other c 603 hermits trying to build bridges to the world outside your hermitage? Don't you embrace a kind of "contemptus mundi" in separating yourself as you do? I want to suggest that those hermits of [in] Scotland had the right idea in fleeing from place to place. You would disagree, wouldn't you?]]

Thanks for your thoughtful questions. I have added links to the posts you refenced. I think I have answered a lot of what you ask about in the following post: Stricter Separation: Loving the World into Wholeness, so I would ask that you take a look at this post and especially, that you pay attention to the different ways the term "the world" can be used. We need to be clear that there are several different usages of the term and not confuse one for the other. For instance, the world the hermit separates herself from is not primarily the world of God's good creation; instead, it is a constellation [[of attitudes, values, perspectives, and priorities which live in a hermit's heart just as they live in the hearts of others]] and constitute a kind of widespread and typical pattern of vision and inner reality.  

In this view of things, because these patterns of values, perspectives, and attitudes are deeply inculcated within each of us, and because they are often-unconscious lenses through which we view reality, closing the hermitage door merely shuts one inside with "the world" one needs to separate oneself from more assiduously. Doing so can provide a false sense that one has done what one needs to do in "leaving the world" and this inaccurate sense may grow into or foster a kind of sense of spiritual superiority in the hermit. Additionally, it can lead to a self-centered spirituality focused merely on one's own perfection or salvation, rather than on a holiness which at every point, serves and is meant to serve the needs of a world often bereft of love and wholeness. Nothing could be more "worldly" in fact.

If you look at the behavior of the three Scottish "hermits" as outlined in the NCR article I wrote about (please note, there are other, entirely legitimate hermits in Scotland), what you find is distinctly "worldly" behavior. They have a habit of making themselves "unwelcome and getting in trouble". While supposedly more strictly separated from "the world" they engage in provocative acts of judgmentalism that are hurtful and meant to be so. While there is a legitimate prophetic or "truth-telling" dimension to eremitical life, this is not it. When their bishops (more than one apparently) have tried "numerous times" to break them up, they have resisted and eventually gotten themselves thrown out of the diocese(s). I have to tell you how rare such problems are with genuine hermits. An actual pattern of offensive and disedifying behavior in genuine hermits is even more rare. 

Other things strike me as "worldly" with regard to the three persons in the NCR article. Despite no longer having a right to wear a Capuchin habit, one of the hermits continues to do so and one wonders why. He is not witnessing to canonical eremitical standing nor an ecclesial vocation, nor to religious poverty or consecration by God --- and there are certainly poorer and simpler ways to dress. Why could he not let this go as he ought to have done when he left the congregation that extended this right to him? And then there is the glee, first at excommunication and then at the amounts of correspondence and financial aid flowing their way as a result!!! These "hermits" are not victims of the "mean old" institutional Church --- and yet they are excited to benefit from those seeing and treating them in this way! None of this sounds anything but profoundly "worldly" to me.

I am not sure I would describe my life as one of building bridges to the world around me, but I accept my responsibility to witness to that world, and also to "the world" I am to be more strictly separated from --- that constellation of attitudes, values, and perspectives which really distort the way we see and relate to God, ourselves, and God's good creation. One other element of c 603 is that this life is to be lived "for the salvation of others"; that requires engagement on behalf of God and his good creation even as it requires freedom from enmeshment in all that distorts it. There may be some tension between these two elements of the canon, but they certainly don't conflict. That is especially true as I understand that the really critical dimensions of my life, the dimensions that define me as a person and hermit, are hidden from others and that even to the extent my life is of witness value it is hidden in Christ. So, while I don't try to build bridges with the world around me in any focused or concerted way, and while there are very real and necessary limitations in my engagement with the world, that engagement is still very real and motivated by my life in Christ.

If the term "contemptus mundi" can be understood in terms of turning away from attitudes, values, and perspectives which are typical of contemporary life and serve to distort the way we see and behave toward God and God's good creation, then yes, I embrace it. In some ways I work hard to free myself from or allow myself to be healed of the woundedness which contributes to the personal and common lenses which so distort the way I/we see and relate to reality. I recognize that Christian life, and certainly eremitical life within that, is one of freedom from this kind of enmeshment. I definitely work hard to allow Christ to be primary in my life so that I can say with Paul, "I, yet not I but Christ in me. . .". Even so, "contemptus mundi" seems to me to invite misunderstanding as it is wrapped in several layers of mystifying language: a Semitic sense of the term hatred** (see below), now translated into Latin and combined with a Greek and Johannine term (mundi) with at least three significantly different senses in the Gospel writer's work. Besides the fact that c 603 does not use this phrase, I usually don't use it for this reason.

Finally, I have a strong appreciation for the Benedictine value (and vow) of stability. This means I appreciate that where I am (diocese, parish, hermitage) has all I need to grow in holiness, and I am committed to seeking God (letting God find and be present to me in all the ways God chooses to do that) here. Yes, there are good reasons sometimes to move elsewhere, but a pattern of frenetic mobility, especially if it is occasioned by getting oneself in trouble and making oneself unwelcome wherever one goes, is contrary to Benedictine stability (and several other Christian values as well)! The evolving world the Scottish trio of would-be hermits are trying to escape is the world they are called to witness to. Meanwhile, in their attitudes and values, for instance, they seem to be ever more deeply enmeshed in the world they should be more strictly separated from! A genuine hermitage in the midst of such a world is, like the Carthusian image, a still point in the midst of sin's roiling disorder. My own sense is that these three apparent misanthropes (it is hard to see what or who they actually love beyond themselves), to the extent they cannot embrace such a stability, are not seeking God, but are running from precisely the place in which he is surely to be found. I think the Incarnation tells us that.

I hope this is helpful!

** In the NT Semitism the idea of "hating," as in Luke 14:26, is a comparative term and has to be understood as "love less". When Luke says, [[If anyone comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters—yes, even their own life—such a person cannot be my disciple,]] he is saying a disciple must prefer Jesus to or love Jesus more than all these others. Perhaps an even better way to say it would be, [[You must love me first and best, and all else and all others only in and through your love for me.]] If we are given a choice, Jesus or our own life (and so forth), the choice must be for Jesus and the One who sent him. [[Seek ye first the Kingdom of God and all these. . .will be added unto you.]]

On Stricter Separation From the World as a Call to Love the World into Wholeness

[[Sister Laurel, I was asked where the "stricter" in "stricter separation from the world," comes from in canon 603.  Does it mean stricter than cloistered communities, stricter than other religious, stricter than other forms of consecrated life generally? I also was thinking about the idea of "the world" in the phrase in the canon. Doesn't this involve a kind of judgment (judgmentalism) on the world around the hermit? Because I take seriously the admonition not to judge others I wonder if Jesus would have condemned such an approach to something God created and Jesus  made new through his death and resurrection. Can you speak to this? ]]

In my understanding, the reference to "stricter separation from the world" in canon 603 is an intensification of c 607.3. That section of canon 607 reads: "The public witness to be rendered by religious to Christ and to the Church entails a separation from the world proper to the character and purpose of each institute." [Emphasis added]  Generally speaking hermits living under c 603 are called and obliged to live a separation which is stricter than that of other religious. Hermit's vows (or other sacred bonds) will qualify their relationship with the world in terms of wealth, relationships, and power (poverty, chastity, and obedience) but will, in conjunction with their Rule of life and the other requirements of canon 603, do so even more strictly than those of other religious. In particular, the hermit's ministry or apostolate will be very different because in the main it is a matter of being sent into the hermitage* in the ministry of prayer and not out in active ministry. I don't think it means more strictly than cloistered religious, however, because hermits are self-supporting and responsible for interfacing with her local, parish, and diocesan communities --- and even with the more extended support community I mentioned in a previous post.

I don't think the requirement regarding stricter separation from the world is a form of judgmentalism but it does require significant discernment on what, when, and how one will give one's heart to things -- first to God and then to all that is precious to God. Stricter separation from "the world" is meant to allow one to love and/or be loved by God in a way which leads to conversion and sanctification -- that is to authentic humanity -- and in light of that, to love all that God loves in a similar way. 

It is always important to remember, I think, that "the world" in canon 603 does not mean "everything outside the hermitage door" -- nor does it exclude dimensions of the hermitage itself as though "the world" is not present there as well. "The world" is a collection of attitudes, values, perspectives, and priorities which live in a hermit's heart just as they live in the hearts of others. Perhaps these have been more or less changed through the context of the silence of solitude and, more importantly, through assiduous prayer and penance, but they remain deeply inculcated and closing the hermitage door, especially when done while naively believing one has shut "the world" out, merely makes the hermitage an outpost of "the world".

As noted in earlier posts, The Handbook on Canons 573-746, notes that "the world" refers to "that which is not redeemed or open to the salvific action of Christ". I have added other dimensions to this definition: 'anything which promises fulfillment apart from Christ," for instance. Thomas Merton  warns against hypostasizing "the world" and sees it in terms of illusion which should be unmasked; it is that which has become a lie and which needs to be seen for what it is.** (see below) We do that when we see all of reality with the eyes of God, and that means seeing all of reality with the eyes of love, just as I noted in my homily for the Solemnity of Ascension.  What it does not mean is God's good creation generally. For that reason, the hermit does not reject the world outside the hermitage, nor even that which is antithetical to Christ. Instead her silence and solitude (i.e., her life with and in God) allows her to see things as they are and to help love them into wholeness. Stricter separation from the world is done for the sake of the hermit's capacity to see clearly and to love truly and deeply. This includes learning to see herself clearly and learning to love herself rightly and profoundly. 

So again, no, I don't think stricter separation from the world represents a form of judgmentalism any more than a physician's diagnosis in order to treat a disorder represents a form of judgmentalism. For the hermit, stricter separation from the world, means disentangling ourselves from all kinds of forms of enmeshment so we may see properly and love profoundly into wholeness. This is what I meant when I said it required significant discernment on what, how, and when we would give our hearts to things. I hope this is clear. So much spiritual writing treats "the world" as anything outside the hermitage, convent, or monastery doors or walls. But this is just careless and dangerous thinking. It neglects the very real dimensions of the human heart which are worldly and on which one cannot simply shut the hermitage door; it also neglects the Great Commandment of love and the profound relationship a hermit (for instance) must have with the world around the hermitage, especially in the silence of solitude -- as paradoxical as that sounds.

I agree with you that Jesus would condemn many writings that speak of "the world" as though it is a distinct objective thing outside a religious house. Especially I agree that Jesus would condemn any way of seeing God's good creation which ignores the victory of the cross over sin and death and over the powers and principalities of this world. We are challenged every day not to ignore "the world" but to see it clearly, to transform it with love, and thereby to eventually win its allegiance to Christ -- even if that allegiance is anonymous. Love provides the kind of unmasking which humbles without humiliating; it raises reality to its true dignity, and it allows the deep meaning possessed by reality to come through without idolizing this world or dimensions of it. It provides the lens through which we can see things truly and value them rightly. I think Jesus saw reality in this way and we who profess that we are in and of him, must be able to demonstrate that we have the capacity to see reality in the same way. 

Hermits separate ourselves more strictly from the larger world in order to cultivate this way of seeing, this way of loving. We do it so that we can be remade into a dimension of the heart of the Church; where others who share in the love of God in Christ are meant to be Jesus' hands and feet, hermits stand hidden and yet present as a representation of Jesus' own sacred heart. Once we think of ourselves in this way, stricter separation from the world will never again mean a sterile, much less judgmental, disengagement from the world. Instead it will be a new and paradoxical way of being engaged so the world may truly be and become all God calls it to be. Stricter separation from "the world" is about love for the world of God's great and creative goodness; it is not about "contemptus mundi" except to the degree we reject the ways the world itself has been falsified by human idolatry. It is this falsification (and the distorted human heart that created it) that must be unmasked, and this, it seems to me (and to Thomas Merton, I think) is the work of the hermit and her hermitage. 

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* The phrase "sent into the hermitage" instead of out into active ministry is borrowed with permission from Sister Anunziata Grace, a diocesan hermit for the Diocese of Knoxville. During a conversation we had several years ago she spoke this way and I found it particularly revelatory of the nature of the hermit's commission.

** And for anyone who has seriously entered into the medieval Christian. . . conception of contemptus mundi [hatred for or of the world],. . .it will be evident that this means not the rejection of a reality, but the unmasking of an illusion. The world as pure object is not there. it is not a reality outside us for which we exist. . . It is only in assuming full responsibility for our world, for our lives, and for ourselves that we can be said to live really for God." Thomas Merton, Contemplation in a World of Action.

Followup on the Prayer Lives of Hermits

Dear Sister Laurel, I wanted to thank you for what you wrote about the prayer lives of hermits. As someone trying to become a lay hermit and write my own Rule I found your recent post on this very helpful. I have also been led to look at what you have written about "stricter separation from the world" by your comments on using pious practices to cover over what is really worldliness: 

[[One journals and talks with her director to see if she might be using one form of prayer to avoid something else --- that profound listening that requires one be in touch with her deepest heart, for instance, or monastic leisure and letting go of the need to "produce" or do rather than be. These latter difficulties are or can be reflections of the worldliness that follows us into the hermitage so we must not simply slap a pious practice over it and think we have "left the world" or begun to truly pray as a hermit in so doing. (It is the case that even certain practices in prayer, certain affectations or attachments may be more worldly than not.)]]

I have always thought that any prayer is a way of combating worldliness but I guess in the contemplative life that really may not be so. Can you please say more about this? Thank you.]]

Yes, when I wrote that I was thinking of, several things. First, and most incidentally or tangentially, there was a phrase I personally hate, namely that of "prayer warrior." So let me dispense with this piece of things before moving on to my more central concerns. Often I have seen the all-too-human desires for control, power, or fear translated into prayer-as-weapon. The idea of storming heaven with our prayers causes me to cringe because when you scratch the pious veneer off of the practice there is an idea of controlling God, getting God to take notice, a desire to recruit God to "our" side of some belligerence, etc. This is all very far removed from the contemplative prayer of hermits or a love that makes whole, for instance, and while I believe we all ought to lend our hearts and minds in support of the concerns and needs of our brothers and sisters (which is what intercessory prayer allows), I don't think any genuine prayer can be about getting God's attention (which does not mean we should not pour out our profound sense of need!!), attempting to control God, convincing God with our needs, bargaining, etc. I do think that this tendency in our prayer can be considered a form of worldliness and needs to be relinquished or otherwise outgrown.

The same is true of the second issue I had in mind, namely, treating prayer as a busy-making, productive activity in a world which is all about doing, making, producing and never enough about truly being, much less being truly ourselves and resting in God! If prayer is conceived of as a pious undertaking of our own doing, even if it involves pleading on behalf of others, we may well simply be perpetuating a very worldly pattern of self-assertion and the inability or even outright refusal to listen. I think it is essential to pour out our hearts to God, that is, to open every concern to Him and allow him to touch, hallow, and make that same heart one. Likewise I believe that in pouring out our hearts we mediate God's love to those we carry in those same hearts. Even so, we can do this in silence trusting that God will find his way into all of the nooks and crannies of our hearts, that he will move us to pour ourselves out to him, and that generally all we can provide (which we still do by God's grace) is our permission in what is really God's own work and movement. To treat prayer otherwise may be to perpetuate a worldliness that resists such utter dependence, is allergic to silence, and seeks to make prayer a work we succeed (or at least attempt to succeed) at ourselves.

A third thing I was thinking of when I made that comment was the tendency I sometimes see in those who would be hermits. Too often isolation and eccentricity are "baptized" by these folks with the title "hermit." Instead of working on the personal changes that need to be made so that one may overcome continuing occasions of alienation and rejection, these are "consecrated" with the notion that God desires these things or even that he causes or accomplishes them in one's life. But individualism, avoidance of conversion, and self-justification are pretty worldly attitudes and behaviors and to affirm that God desires (or even causes) their exacerbation rather than their healing and redemption in the name of mysticism, eremitism, or a "victim soul spirituality" is to slap a pious label on something which is worldly in the most destructive way. Self-described hermits may really be more about this kind of worldliness than they are about eremitical solitude --- which is being alone with God for the sake of others. It is ironic that the eremitical life as the Church understands it is NOT a good solution (much less vocation!) for those who refuse to be related to others. Because eremitical solitude is partly about loving others IN God (it is first of all about dwelling in God for God's own sake), isolation and a failure to love in concrete ways are actually antithetical to eremitical solitude.

Finally, I was thinking of those who pretend to be mystics or contemplatives. This can happen for many reasons but whether it occurs because this is thought to be a "higher" form of prayer, or because it allows them to opt out of the demanding commission given to every Christian to help build the Kingdom and participate in some integral way in the Body of Christ, it is worldly. If it occurs because it saves them from the everyday toil of maturing spiritually (humanly) or  learning to pray and to allow God to work in and with one, or because pseudo-mystical experiences are distracting from the pain of loss, rejection, alienation, illness, etc, or simply because they make the person feel special and loved (which, when authentic, of course these can and do, but in a way which produces incredible  fruit for others) --- these (inauthentic experiences) too are simply entirely worldly ways of living over which pious labels or activities have been plastered. Especially in contemplative life (and particularly when this is marked by mystical prayer) one must learn to really pray, learn to genuinely and wholly give oneself over to God in true humility. During this process one will experience tedium, boredom, a sense that one is getting nowhere in prayer, etc. In such instances to go back to an earlier form of prayer which was exciting or fulfilling in an attempt to avoid the difficulties of the present stage of growth is another version of a worldliness which eschews dependence on God, powerlessness, darkness or a lack of understanding and control, and certainly boredom or tedium of any sort.

It is simply all-too-easy to carry over attitudes and ways of approaching reality which are indeed worldly into our prayer -- and to do so in ways which are meant to protect these. Attempts to impress, to show only our best selves, to stand on our own merits, to succeed, to speak eloquently (when we ought to listen) or not at all (when we are called to speak up!), to create a prayer-as-achievement or settle for prayer experiences rather than to be a prayer, to be distracted from pain or to embrace an irresponsible quietism, to justify a refusal to be well (or to work toward wellness) by choosing isolation in the name of victimhood  or eremitical life, to mask anger and bitterness (especially at God!) under a layer of the language and thought of pseudo mystical misery and a distorted theology of suffering --- all of these and many more can be ways of what I described as trying to [[slap a pious practice over [something which is really worldly] and think we have "left the world" or begun to truly pray as a hermit in so doing.]] 

As I have written before, one of the really critical mistakes beginning hermits make is to believe they leave "the world" simply by shutting the door of their hermitage on everything outside it.  That simply makes of the hermitage a particularly dishonest (or deluded) outpost of the world one is seeking to redeem. But to really leave "the world" behind means to leave those attitudes and behaviors which are so much a part of the way we have been acculturated to think, perceive, and judge while we allow our hearts and minds to be entirely remade by God. When this happens, the hermitage becomes what one friend reminded me it should be, namely, a place where the cries and anguish of the world are truly heard --- and, I would add, where they are taken up into the very heart of God through the hermit's heart at prayer.

As a kind of postscript, please remember a couple of the things Merton says about "the world" and the danger of hypostasizing it. I have cited these before: "The way to find the real 'world' is not merely to measure and observe what is outside us, but to discover our own inner ground. For that is where the world is, first of all: in my deepest self.. . . This 'ground', this 'world' where I am mysteriously present at once to my own self and to the freedoms of all other men, is not a visible, objective and determined structure with fixed laws and demands. It is a living and self-creating mystery of which I am myself a part, to which I am myself my own unique door. When I find the world in my own ground, it is impossible for me to be alienated by it. . ." (The Inner Ground of Love)

"There remains a profound wisdom in the traditional Christian approach to the world as an object of choice. But we have to admit that the mechanical and habitual compulsions of a certain limited type of Christian thought have falsified the true value-perspective in which the world can be discovered and chosen as it is. To treat the world merely as an agglomeration of material goods and objects outside ourselves, and to reject these goods and objects in order to seek others which are "interior" or "spiritual" is in fact to miss the whole point of the challenging confrontation of the world and Christ. Do we really choose between the world and Christ as between two conflicting realities absolutely opposed? Or do we choose Christ by choosing the world as it really is in him, that is to say, redeemed by him, and encountered in the ground of our own personal freedom and love?" (The Inner Ground of Love, Emphasis added)

More On Spiritualizing "Stricter Separation from the World"

In an earlier post (June 25,2011), I explained that I had not intended to spiritualize the essential element in Canon 603 known as "stricter separation from the world." In the first place I was trying to counter a rather common misconception in eremitical life, and especially the eremitical life of beginners, namely, that "the world" can be hypostatized or treated as a wholly separate reality external to the hermitage. When this occurs one hears hermits (or monastics more generally) speaking as though the hermitage or monastery is not an instance of the world, while condemning everything outside the cell, hermitage, or monastery as "worldly". We have all heard monastics say, "When I left the world" --- speaking about entering the monastery --- or, "Brother so and so has returned to the world" --- speaking about leaving monastic life, etc. Only when very carefully explained can these statements cease to mislead us into thinking of "out there" -- the everyday world -- as "the world."

But, in Scripture and in theological reflection on everyday spatio-temporal reality, "the world" is a polyvalent or tensive symbol --- a symbol which has several meanings which create tension between them --- which includes God's good creation as well as that which resists Christ. It also refers to the sinful human heart which is equally ambiguous. Because of this, the notion that one can simply close the monastery or hermitage door on "the world" is false, a distortion of reality, and in affirming this fundamental untruth one actually makes of the hermitage an outpost of that which is resistant to Christ. Because of this, I stressed that the term "Stricter separation from the world," as Canon 603 uses the term, was primarily about the state of the individual heart and its conversion, and only secondarily (though necessarily!) about physical separation from significant aspects of reality.

Abdicating our Responsibility to Discern the Incarnate God's Presence in Everyday Life

There were two other reasons I stressed the spiritual dimension of this term as well. Both are related to hypostatizing "the world" and treating it as "that which is outside the hermitage or monastery." In the first one, what we find is that when one forgets about the ambiguity of reality and embraces such an unnuanced perspective, one abdicates one's responsibility to discern what is of God and what is not. One rejects everything as "the world" in the pejorative sense of the term, (i.e., that which is resistant to Christ) when in fact much of what one is thus rejecting is good, beautiful, true, and more than capable of mediating God's presence and summoning to holiness. This affects the soundness of one's spirituality on every level. It fosters dangerous judgments about what is possible outside the monastery (for instance that holiness is not possible out in the everyday world, that lay life is an inferior form of vocation, that the ordinary affairs of people are necessarily distractions from genuinely spiritual life and divide the human heart, etc, etc).

It can lead to notions of contemplative life which are insensitive to and unappreciative of God's presence in significant ways; it can lead to notions of spirituality rooted in an anti-pleasure principle and overly dependent on pain and other forms of unpleasantness (if food is unpalatable eat it, if pleasant avoid it; if something is beautiful eschew it, if it is gratifying to the other senses, reject it, etc, etc). This all seems to me to be counter to the truth of the Incarnation: namely, that God comes to us in everyday reality and asks us to recognize and affirm him there rather than being scandalized by his presence in life's ordinariness.

The Parable of the Weeds and the Wheat Applied to this Situation

It also seems to me that Jesus' parable of the weeds and the wheat speaks to this situation very pointedly. We must not precipitously and simply attempt to pull up the weeds as though they are clearly evident and wholly separate from the wheat. In fact, this is simply not so, and we cannot see clearly enough to do this. Discernment and patience are necessary. We must live with ambiguity because otherwise we will certainly throw out some plants that actually witness to and mediate the presence of God to nourish us. More, we must allow God to clarify our own vision and hearts through all of this. Stricter physical separation from much of the ambiguity is necessary, but the hermit must always remember that "the world" Canon 603 inveighs against is a function first of all of the human heart, and it is this which is the source of our world's ambiguity.

Let me give one example of the way Jesus' parable might work with regard to conversation with others, for instance. I have spoken with a person who wishes to be a hermit who refuses to speak of anything but "spiritual matters" with those she meets. What qualifies as spiritual is God, Christ, the Saints, spiritual books (19th C or earlier --- nothing contemporary!), monastic values, etc. All other topics have been torn out at the roots, so to speak. The result, of course, is not only a loss of friends, but the very matter in and through which God reveals himself. Everything is abstracted from the concrete, and thus, rendered empty. For instance, while one can speak of love, hope, holiness, etc, one cannot speak of the nitty gritty situations, relationships, and daily struggles which give rise to these as concerns, questions, problems, etc.

Karl Barth once referred to religious discourse of this sort, especially in terms of preaching the Gospel without either listening or responding to the every day lives and questions of those to whom the preacher is speaking. It is akin to throwing a rock into a lake. It profoundly disturbs the surface of the pool and immediately sinks to the bottom; it makes ripples, the ripples spread, die away quickly, and everything is left as before --- except that now religion seems to be extraneous and even irrelevant to every day life while the Gospel is seen as incapable of speaking in an effective way to people who use non-religious language. But of course, this is what the incarnation never allows us to do. In Christ our God uses a new and scandalous form of discourse; he comes to us PERSONALLY in the unexpected and even the unacceptable place. He comes to understand our situation intimately from the inside out and he redeems us in the same way. He loves, not abstractly, but concretely. The Word he speaks to us is his own self, but it addresses our deepest needs and desires, in whatever way and language we use to pose them. If we forget this, we may well forget ourselves to listen to the person's own spiritual language, classify it as "the world," and tear up the wheat along with the weeds, long before it is able to produce fruit. This is a serious problem with those who tend to hypostatize the term "the world" as this person does.

Abdicating our Responsibility to Speak Prophetically to our World by Hypostatizing "the World"

The second problem I wanted to deal with is intimately related to this. It had to do with the responsibility of the hermit to speak prophetically to the world outside the hermitage. While the prophet certainly summons to repentance, more fundamentally that repentance is a way of affirming the deeper truth and potential of reality. It is meant to recall the world which has moved from God, and therefore to fragmentation, incompleteness, and bondage,  and draw it into true freedom in God. The hermit separates herself from the world to some extent so that she may see it clearly, and address it honestly from a perspective of relative spiritual freedom from entanglements and enmeshment in that which is resistant to Christ or contrary to true dependence upon God. The desert is not so much a destination as it is a context which allows the hermit to achieve freedom and then to summon the rest of reality to the same freedom. Hermits journey for many years in the desert, but the purpose is not only the purification of the hermit's own heart, but a return in some appropriate way to that which was left behind so that it can be loved to wholeness and reminded of its truest destiny.

When the hermit hypostatizes the world so that everything outside the hermitage is treated as though it is sinful, false, distorted, and estranged from God without also being ambiguous and so, true, beautiful, valuable, and capable of mediating God's very self to us, there ceases to be any reason to return to that world with the message of the Kingdom. We are unable to return to the world with the Gospel message and a purified heart which allows us to call the world to fulfillment not only because we treated "the world" as that which was outside us, but because we refused to see its potentialities --- the fact that it is ALSO God's good creation meant to be reconciled and brought to fulfillment as the new heaven and earth spoken of in Scripture.

The hermit does not turn her back on "the world." She attends to "the world" with and in the love of God, first as she discovers that love in the conflicted and fragmented space of her own heart, her own personal center, and then, by finding ways to address "the world" as it exists outside of herself with the hope she comes to know and embody in the silence of solitude. She learns to see what is real, what is true, what is beautiful, what is holy in everyday reality. She learns to see not only the distortion and untruth but also the potential hidden in that reality just as she learned to discern and accept the distortions and potential in her own heart. In so doing, God is allowed to bring reality to perfection and fullness.

So, again, I had no intention of spiritualizing c 603's requirement of stricter separation from the world. Physical separation is essential, but again it is meant to serve what is primary: the personal healing and sanctification of the hermit's own self, a freeing from enmeshment in "the world" precisely so she may serve reality in sympathetic detachment and prophetic presence. Once again, many thanks to the diocesan hermit/friend who raised the question!