Another Look at Eremitical Silence and Solitude in Light of "Ponam in Deserto Viam"

[[Hi Sister Laurel, I don't want to start a fight, but when c 603 talks about the silence of solitude, isn't it talking about being quiet, not speaking or listening to music, or watching TV and worldly things like that? [One online hermit] says that the idea of solitude means being alone, and like that, the word silence is simple and is about being silent and living in silence. . . .What's hard about that? But when you write about these things, you make them way more complicated than that!. . . I think you are trying to talk around the simple meaning of the words and [the online hermit] does too -- though I am not trying to speak for her! . . . My question is, where do you get the idea that silence means more than being silent and living without sound? Why doesn't "the silence of solitude" mean the silence that happens when there is no one else there?]] (Questions redacted by Sister Laurel)

Thanks for your questions.  Over the years, I have written a lot about "the silence of solitude," and I indeed understand both the term silence and the term solitude to mean more than the absence of sound or the absence of company, even though it may begin with some form of these. (Note well that sometimes we will have a deep insight that then calls us to external or physical silence and solitude to truly hear this insight, but in the main, our ability to truly listen to our own hearts requires external silence and solitude.) Moreover, I understand the silence of solitude as the state of inner quies (rest or peace) or hesychia (stillness) that obtains when one is not merely living alone, but, more primarily, is living with and in (or at least toward!) union with God. It is about the journey to become who we are made by God to be. This state of solitude is not simply about being by oneself with and in God, but necessarily implies the community of the Church and of the world of God's creation as well. The relationships implied are the result of our being in and with God as ground and source of all being and meaning, and therefore, with all of creation that is also related to God in some degree of communion. It is in exploring what it means to be in communion with God that I have come to understand the fundamental terms of c 603, but especially terms like silence, solitude, and the silence of solitude.

What you are asking about is what seems to you to be an idiosyncratic usage of such terms, no? I know that some have taken exception to the way I understand such terms and they have continued to object to this through the years. Thus, the question of where I get the ideas I write about is also a question about how I justify my literally eccentric (out of the center) usage and the way I live my eremitical life itself. I want to spend a bit of time then, trying to respond to that specific question.

There are three pieces to my answer. I depend upon, 1) personal experience in prayer and the silence of solitude, which especially leads me to a sense that silence, solitude, and the silence of solitude are richer and more complex realities than your friend (and many non-contemplatives) seems to allow for, 2) the insights and experiences of other hermits (both canonical and non-canonical) who have also explored these terms and found them to be similarly rich and multivalent, especially from contemplatives and monks and hermits like Cornelius Wencel whose book, The Eremitic Life is so well-done, or like Thomas Merton who speaks of solitude herself, "opening the door" to the hermit; and 3)  the Church's thought on eremitic life itself, particularly in what it writes of the c 603 vocation in its recent (2022), Ponam in Deserto Viam, (The Hermit's Way of Life in the Local Church), CICLSAL or DICLSAL (Congregation (now Dicastery) of Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life).

Let me focus here on a couple of passages from Ponam to give you a taste of the rich sense in which the Church understands eremitical silence and solitude, and more specifically, maybe, the silence of solitude.  The first passage is from paragraph 14. Ponam explicitly identifies silence in a way very far removed from those who would like it to refer to a single, narrow meaning. It denies outright that it can be identified with external silence associated with physical or psychological isolation:

The term silence of solitude cherished by the Carthusian tradition, emphasizes that the hermit's silence does not consist in the absence of voices or noises due to physical isolation. Nor can silence be an outwardly imposed condition. Rather,  it is a fundamental attitude that expresses a radical availability to listen to God. Silence is a total focus on the search for union with Christ and open to the attraction of the Paschel dynamic of his death and resurrection. Silence is the experience of the mysterious fruitfulness of a life totally surrendered. Paradoxically it is also an eloquent witness when inhabited by Love. (Emphasis added)

(By the way, I would argue a bit with this last sentence and assert that the silence of solitude referred to in the canon only exists when inhabited by Love -- at least in the life of someone the Church would recognize as living an eremitic life; when Love is absent, Silence or the silence of solitude cease to be all the things this passage affirms.) It seems to me that this passage supports the contention that the silence of solitude is not only the environment in which the hermit lives her life, but even more importantly, that it is both the goal and charism of the solitary eremitical life. This underscores the idea that silence, especially the silence of solitude in c 603, does not merely refer to an external state of silence, but an inner state of relatedness and journeying with, to, and in God, which one undertakes not only for one's own sake, but for God's sake and the salvation of others. The emphasis on witness is very welcome here.

 The second passage is from paragraph 15, where Ponam is speaking of Peter Damian's observations on radical solitude, a reality that defines the ecclesial role of the hermits' way of life. In exploring this idea, Ponam says, Hermits are like a microcosm of the world and the Church in miniature (an ecclesiola). Therefore, they cannot forget the Church and world they represent in their totality. The more one is alone before God, the more one discovers within oneself the deeper dimension of the world.  While this quoted passage doesn't speak to the idea of eremitical silence, solitude, and the silence of solitude directly, it does imply a journey into a multivalent reality with various depths the hermit is called to explore and represent. When we think of the Church and world in their totality, we also must think of the way God's realm interpenetrates our historical reality, and that means looking at the hermit as a symbol of this interpenetration.

What paragraph 15 thus says here is that the hermit as a historical reality living in communion and towards union with God, stands at the heart of the Church and world, and reveals that same deepest reality to both the Church and the world itself. In this way, the passage begins to introduce us to the idea that the journey into the silence of solitude reveals the hungers of the human heart for communion with God (and all that is of God) and resting in the fullness of being and meaning that communion entails. This is so even when this is experienced mainly in terms of hunger or yearning. (Cf. articles on existential solitude in the past several months.)  In another place, Ponam calls the hermit an ambassador (or sentinel) of hope for both the Church and the world. She reminds the Church and world that one's true identity (and all authentic hope) are found only in God; for those hermits who choose to reject the larger world or who really just use the term hermit as a synonym for misanthropy and isolation, Ponam affirms, [[True identity is rooted in a vital tradition that neither excludes nor rejects, but includes, integrates, and reconstructs.]] (par 16).

All of this implies that silence, solitude, and the silence of solitude, canon 603 sees as fundamental to the eremitical life, are most significantly not external states of the absence of noise or companionship, but rather, are rich, multivalent inner realities. Because, in part, they help form the context for one's journey to God, they include the external silence and physical aloneness you refer to, but they are also the goal of one's journey with, to, and in God. This is what Ponam is talking about when it reflects on Peter Damian's letter, Dominus Vobiscum, and speaks of achieving what is one's truest identity in God, or refers to the hermit being a microcosm of both Church and world, and revealing the nature of this journey into God to both. Finally, as I have written here over the years (and observed in my own Rule in 2006), the silence of solitude is the gift or charism that this vocation offers both the Church and the world so they might see themselves clearly, worship God appropriately, and glorify (reveal) him and the hope that is rooted in him in all they are and do.  

Bishop Rojas Dispenses Catholics From Mass Attendance in Light of Potential ICE Raids

Notification from Bishop Rojas, Bishop of San Bernardino via Rev. James Martin, sj: [[in an extraordinary move, the bishop of San Bernardino has "dispensed" (freed a person) from the obligation to attend Masses on Sundays and Holy Days of Obligation if the person fears ICE. Bishop Rojas (wisely) says that he is guided by the desire to extend pastoral care to all people in his diocese, particularly those who "face fear and hardship." It is a vivid reminder that not even Catholic churches are considered safe places any longer. Where are the voices for "religious freedom" now?]]

It has been a while since I posted on the current administration and its tendency to violate the supremacy of Christ's Lordship and freedom of religion in this country, but the above notice is an important piece of loss of that freedom that must be commented on. A second piece has to do with attempts to overturn the Johnson Amendment by this administration, notably the IRS. I have not said a lot about the aberration known as "Christian Nationalism" in this blog, but perhaps it is time to raise that issue as well, since all of this is tied together and finds its central symbol in the administration's new "Office of Religion" as well as in the religious sensibilities of the MAGA crowd. A couple of weeks ago, someone in my hearing said, "I would just like to go off and be a hermit with all this terrible news!" Fortunately, a friend standing there laughed, nodded in my direction, and said, "Oh, I don't think being a hermit means being out of touch with what is happening in the world!" And I agreed. After all, it is hard to be a person of prayer or to engage with the Kingdom of God if you are out of touch with that "anti-kingdom" which opposes God and Christian Freedom and Charity at every turn.

I have always been grateful for the Johnson Amendment and what it makes possible in this country. I go to church to hear the Gospel of God in Christ, and to pray with my  Catholic family;  I leave the service commissioned to witness to that Gospel and the faith community it creates in our broken and often misguided world. One of the things that has been precious to me is the right to come around the altar with brothers and sisters who differ politically from one another, and share from the same loaf and cup. We say the creed together and pray the Lord's Prayer as members of a unique and global family, and are very clear that how ever we feel about various social and political issues, it is this creed and the identity celebrated in this prayer that supercedes all of that and allows us to disagree in love and mutual respect. It has also allowed us to go forth to minister the Gospel freely in good conscience, and to respect the rights of other Catholics to choose whom they will vote for, even when we heartily disagree with the wisdom of that choice! 

Yes, it has obligated us to discuss and debate with others as well, but it has made clear that we remain members of a larger and global family with our hearts and minds set on a larger picture and goal we know as the Kingdom or Reign of God. Whatever political choices we make will be made for the sake of that vision, that KINdom. It is a great gift to have a Church that is at once sophisticated in terms of social justice and political action, while at the same time, refusing to allow its worship and proclamation to be sullied by partisan politics and the taint of worldly power.  At least it has been a great gift to have such a Church in the US, in part because of the Johnson Amendment.

But now the IRS has indicated that pastors may speak about and even support political candidates from the pulpit. I experience this as a violation of the "hands off" nature of freedom of religion in our churches, and know that it will be divisive, especially as less wise or discreet pastors seek to influence their congregations, not with the Gospel, but with specific political stances. We all know that what is said from the pulpit or ambo by a pastor will carry weight and influence in this regard, especially with those who are less knowledgeable or confident in their own consciences. One reason we proclaim the Gospel clearly without speaking of political candidates is because this puts the onus of making intelligent and conscientiously informed choices on the hearer --- and after all, this is a central part of the Church's very task in forming the faithful as adult Christians. But allowing pastors, et al., to support specific candidates from the pulpit will short-circuit all of that. And yes, the bias it introduces can cut in two directions depending on whether one respects one's pastor in this matter or not. Whatever direction it pulls or pushes one, it can unnecessarily and tragically short-circuit the process of forming and informing a good conscience in light of the Gospel. Ironically, the Johnson Amendment helped protect freedom** of religion; it did not constrain it.

So-called "Christian" Nationalism does not respect a separation of Church and state. For that reason, Christian Nationalism respects neither the Church nor the state, and where it gains power, both Church and State will be damaged or destroyed. Christian Nationalism desires a theocracy and is actively working towards that form of government as I write. A democratic republic will no longer do. Neither will freedom of religion --- including the freedom to be Christian if that means something other than being a "Christian Nationalist". The incursions of the state into our worship services is simply one natural outworking of a nationalistic form of "Christianity". As horrific as it is to have Bishop Rojas needing to dispense the Sunday obligation for those threatened by ICE, it is more horrific to realize Religious Freedom itself is in jeopardy because of the present administration. Indeed, it has already been violated by the government. If ICE can enter any church looking for "illegal aliens" (apparently meaning those who are not white and appear to have been born elsewhere), then the sanctity of the global family we represent has been violated, and all of us have been harmed and our faith demeaned.

** Remember that for the Christian, freedom does not mean the power to do anything we like, but the power to be the persons God calls us to be. What looks like constraints on other forms of freedom (like vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, for instance) for the Christian help open the way to truly be the person God calls one to be. In this case, the Johnson Amendment helps Christians to form, inform, and follow their consciences as they personally feel called by God to do. It allows for disagreement and independence, and a greater maturity in one's political choices. After all, the Church's job is not to determine what is right or wrong in terms of such choices, but to proclaim the Gospel in season and out in a way that empowers members to make the choice they feel best supports the Kingdom of God at any given point in their Christian (human) development.

On Hermits, Parish Participation, Mass Attendance, and Ecclesial Vocations

[[ Also, what I really wanted to ask you, if a hermit didn't want to be part of a parish or diocese, could they still be a consecrated Catholic hermit? How about if they never attended Mass? I know the Church teaches that there is something called the mystical Body of Christ and that the New Testment (sic) says we are to become spiritual beings. Can a hermit become a spiritual being and not be able to attend Mass? I thought that Catholics were obligated to attend Mass every Sunday so I wondered how someone could be a Catholic hermit and not go to Mass except once in a while? Too, when you speak about an "ecclesial vocation" doesn't everyone have this kind of vocation? we all live our calling from inside the Church, don't we?]]

These are questions I never got to in an earlier post. Sorry it has taken me time to return to them, though I am hoping some of the footnotes I added to that post may help with these. To answer you more directly, though, I would argue that it depends on what one means by being part of a parish as to whether I answer your first question yes or no. There is the rare situation where a diocesan hermit lives on the premises of a monastery and attends liturgy, and sometimes liturgy of the hours, etc., with the monastic community. Those rare instances aside, most diocesan hermits depend upon the parish for their sacramental life and are a part of the parish in at least that sense. When you ask about not participating in a diocese, the answer is definitely no, because, by definition, a c 603 hermit is consecrated as part of a local (diocesan) Church. She is part of the life of that local Church as well as of the universal Church. This will ordinarily imply being an active member of a parish within that diocese, at least as the source of her sacramental life.

However, some diocesan hermits are involved in the life of the parish in other ways. For instance, I used to do a liturgy of the Word with Communion for the daily Mass group on my pastor's days off. Later, I did that only once or twice a month, and another Sister and lay person took the 2 alternate days, during the month. Once a week, during the school year, I also teach a Scripture class by ZOOM. This is for the parish, but we also have a few people joining us from outside the parish as well. Finally, I do spiritual direction, and while that is open to parishioners, I mainly have clients from outside the parish. So long as a hermit depends on the parish for her sacramental life and contributes even in very limited ways to the life of the parish, especially by being a resource for prayer and for the occasional conversation with parishioners who might want to talk, s/he is an active participant in the parish. I can't see any consecrated Catholic Hermit not participating in parish life at least to the extent of her sacramental life and being a resource for prayer and occasional conversations with those in need. For my comments on Hermits and Eucharistic attendance, please see, Eucharistic Spirituality.

Remember that to call oneself a Catholic Hermit is something only the Church herself may permit one to do. After all, to say one is a Catholic Hermit is to say far more than that one is a Catholic and a hermit. It means to live eremitical life as the Church understands it, and to do so in her Name. To be a Catholic means to be baptized and thus commissioned to live the Christian faith in the name of the Catholic Church and in the way she understands and strives to understand and express that faith. Thus, the Catholic laity is given permission at baptism to call themselves Catholic and to strive to live this vocation ever more fully. With other vocations within the Church, priesthood, religious life, consecrated virginity, eremitical life, etc., the Church herself admits candidates to candidacy and a process of mutual discernment. If, through the mediation of the Church, the person is ordained, professed, and/or consecrated by God, they begin to live this specific vocation in the name of the Church and become a Catholic priest, Catholic Sister or Brother, Catholic hermit, and so forth.

The Mystical Body of Christ (or of the Church) refers to the entire Church, on earth and beyond it. What is mystical about it is the way it is composed and held together by God, especially in the Risen Christ and the Holy Spirit. Mystical ordinarily refers to the absolute Mystery of God and to whatever is empowered by that Mystery. It does not refer to one part of the Church, say a "mystical" or "spiritual" part, to the exclusion of the rest of the Church (say, the embodied and very human part). As I noted in my earlier post to you, just as Paul speaks of spiritual people and fleshly people, meaning, respectively, the whole person either under the power of the Spirit or the whole person under the power of Sin, the Mystical Body refers to the whole Church, both on earth and beyond it, under the power of God in the Holy Spirit. The phrase is meant to indicate that what holds the Church together and is the source of its ongoing life is God; it is not simply a large earthly or human organization or institution, nor simply a good idea put forward by human beings who needed a way to worship once a week. It is a privileged way we participate in, experience, and are empowered to help others to experience God's life and sovereignty (God's reign or Kingdom) in our world today. (It is not the Kingdom, but it participates in that Reign of God and helps mediate it to our world.)

An ecclesial vocation is similarly distinct from merely being a member of the Church (if one can ever be said to be merely a member of the Church), though it presupposes one is an active member of the Church, yes. Most Catholics live their lives for the sake of the Gospel and do so outside the visible boundaries of the Church. They support the Church with their time, talent, and treasure, as the saying goes; however, their vocations are lived for the sake of their families, and society (school systems, businesses, country, state, county, etc.), and not for the sake of the Church itself. Some vocations, however, don't simply support the Church, and are not merely lived for the sake of the Gospel, as critically important as these things are. These vocations are lived for the sake of the Church in a way that directly helps the Church be the Church of Christ, and thus, Catholic. In everything the person with such a vocation does, they directly represent the Church. (Sometimes they will do so publicly and even officially, other times more privately, but in everything the person is and does, they directly represent the Church.) Moreover, they do so for the sake of the Church; they call directly to other persons within the Church with ecclesial vocations to live their vocations as well and as fully as they can. This is their identity in Christ (another reason we tend to use titles like Sister, Brother, Father, etc., for such persons), and they cannot be this person only some of the time.

This responsibility is about not merely being a Catholic Christian for others, though it includes this, but about representing the Church to herself in ways that allow her to grow to be the Church God calls her to be. Religious are called to witness to and challenge both the laity and clerics in a way that caused John Paul II to comment in Vita Consecrata, that he could not conceive of a Church with only priests and laity (cf Ecclesial Vocations) but without religious. The Church herself recognizes that while religious are not part of the hierarchical nature of the Church (they are not a hierarchical position between clerics and laity), vocationally speaking, they are part of her very holiness. All hermits represent eremitical life in some way, shape, or form. Some of us do this better than others, and some of us do it less well. But canonical hermits are specifically called, and respond in their profession, to both live and explore the vocation in a normative way, aware at every moment that they do so for the sake of God, God's Church, this vocation, and all of those whom this vocation might touch. They are not free to live the life of a hermit in whatever way they want or even in whatever way is comfortable. Canon 603 (for solitary consecrated hermits) and canon and proper law (for those in orders or congregations like the Camaldolese, Carthusians, Carmelites, et al) will dictate and shape the way they live eremitical life. Especially, such hermits will live this life for others' sake -- a phrase that includes all those just noted above.

I sincerely hope this answers your questions. You can always get back to me with more questions and comments. Thanks for your patience in awaiting this reply!

On Becoming the Hermit I am Called to Be

[[Sister Laurel, is it really possible for you to make the inner journey you speak of in terms of existential solitude while part of a parish, writing this blog, and doing spiritual direction? I wondered if the solitude lived by hermits can allow for such activity. Are you familiar with the idea that hermits should exist apart from the temporal world and the Church, and still be a model for them? I wondered what you thought of that idea.]]

Your questions at first struck me as difficult to respond to. That is because I am doing those things you are questioning and I am sharing about it here. So, why wouldn't I believe that these are all possible? What I write here is rooted in my own experience and my own reflection on and analysis of that experience, even when I don't share the details of all of that. Not every hermit will write about this journey, or analyze and reflect on it in the same way, but every authentic hermit will make this inner journey with and into God, different as it may look from one of us to the next. I came to eremitical life with a theological background, what had grown to be an interest in "chronic illness as vocation", and a personal background that made the exploration of existential solitude particularly meaningful, especially if it witnesses to the richness of eremitical life beyond the common and narrow stereotypes that still plague the vocation through the agency of antisocial loners and misanthropes. 

Guided by Stereotypes:

While a lot may have changed since the publication of Canon 603, I have the sense that most folks today are still guided by stereotypes in their understanding of this vocation. (I am not referring to you here, I don't know you at all!) Some have a knee-jerk reaction to anything that does not comport with those stereotypes, and reject such hermits out of hand without even giving c 603 life a hearing. But eremitical life has never been so univocal as that, and in every age and culture, eremites have been pioneers witnessing to the significance of the inner journey with, to, and for God's own sake in ways reflecting the diversity of these cultures and ages and the infinite potential and richness of a life lived in and from God. Sometimes, instead of stereotypes, people judge the eremitical life from external characteristics alone: Does the person live strictly alone or in a colony of hermits (or even in a house with one other person)? If in a colony or in a house with anyone else, then some say they can't really be considered hermits. Do they wear habits or not? If so, then they can't be considered hermits because they are not living lives "hidden from the eyes of men". Do they remain anonymous? If not, then again, they are not really hermits. How about their dwelling and church activity? If they live in a quiet apartment or are an integral part of their parish community of faith, and do not reside in a lonely place in the desert apart from a parish community, then they can't really be hermits, etc. Both solitude and an eremitical life of the "silence of solitude" are much richer, more diverse, and much more significant for every person than most narrow stereotypical understandings or those measured merely in terms of externals allow for.

Of course, all eremitical lives reveal commonalities and some elements are sine qua non if one wants to live an eremitical life authentically. I once described these as the ridges and whorls making up any fingerprint, despite the meaningful differences from one print to the next. Canon 603 lists these constitutive ridges and whorls as follows: stricter separation from the world, the silence of solitude, assiduous prayer and penance, profession of the evangelical counsels, a personal Rule of Life written by the hermit herself, all lived for the sake of the salvation of others and under the supervision of the diocesan Bishop. Each of us diocesan hermits lives ever more deeply into these elements, and we come to know by paying attention to the Holy Spirit that each one provides a doorway into a world wider and richer than anything we could have imagined.

Surprised by the Real Vocation:

For instance, when I was first reading about eremitical solitude, I could not have guessed that in its aloneness with God, it was a unique and rare form of community, nor could I have guessed it had to do with the redemption of isolation and alienation rather than their glorification or canonization! Similarly, I could not have imagined that the term "the world" refers not simply to the larger world outside the hermitage door, but instead,  to that which is resistant to Christ, though especially and primarily, that reality within one's own heart that represents the most pernicious and overlooked instance of this "world". Neither could I have suspected that parish life would present me with innumerable instances of instruction in learning to love and be loved by others as Christ loved --- all critical to someone presuming to live a genuinely solitary contemplative life! Finally, I could not have even begun to suspect that my own brokenness would provide the fertile ground for a flowering of God's love in a way that allowed me to journey into the shadow of death and despair and find there the source of all hope, wholeness, and holiness. It was in this journey that hiddenness, stricter separation from the world, and the silence of solitude all came together as c 603, I believe, well understands. Underlying all of this, I could not have seen that the theology I did (both undergraduate, graduate, and post graduate), prepared me incredibly well for the paradox, not only of the Christ Event that stands at the heart of my faith, but of the eremitical life itself, where solitude means a profound engagement with God on behalf of others and entails a careful engagement with others on God's behalf. 

Learning to be the Hermit I am Called to be:

When I began living this life, I had certain ideas about what being a hermit meant, just as you have. There were tensions between those beliefs and the ways I felt called by God to be true to myself and to God. What was ironic was that moving more deeply into eremitical life was made possible within and through those tensions. For instance, I thought solitude meant living apart from a parish community. Over time, however, I discovered that the time I spent engaging with others as part of and on behalf of parish life, also drew me more deeply into my solitary life with God. I chose to teach Scripture to a parish community (and to some who join us from outside it), and in the process found that my time in solitude was more and more fruitfully centered in Scripture. My prayer was richer, the inner work I undertook in spiritual direction was even better supported, and my life with others was both appropriately limited and more intimate and loving. 

Also important was the reading I did, and the people I had conversations with on eremitical life. Beyond this, I continued working with my director, and in all of this, the question of whether I was still called to be a hermit was at least implicit. We explored the tensions I experienced, discerned how I could be true to myself and faithful to God and this vocation, and time and again, what became freshly clear was that I was following my path to and with God and could trust that. As my inner journey became deeper, sometimes more demanding, and ever more fruitful, the truth of my call was reaffirmed many times over, and this inner journey became clearly identified with the vocation's hiddenness. (Because my vocation is also a public one (one of those tensions I mentioned), I rejected superficial definitions of hiddenness associated with anonymity.) Discernment was ongoing; nothing about the way I live this vocation went unexamined, and was examined again whenever circumstances changed, or tensions occurred or increased. Eventually, what became entirely clear to me was something I had glimpsed early on, namely, I am a hermit embodying a life defined by c 603; so long as I live my life with integrity and faithfulness to God, I will remain a hermit.

Same Ridges and Whorls, Unique Fingerprints: 

This does not mean anything goes, of course, nor does it mean that I myself am the measure of the meaning of the constitutive elements of c 603. It means I must continue discerning what is right for me and, along with the Church, my sense of this ecclesial vocation according to the way God calls me to wholeness and holiness. I have done that since 1983 and will continue to do so in all of the ways that are helpful and necessary. Absolutely, I will need to let go of preconceived and possibly anachronistic notions of what constitutes eremitical life, and I will continue to revise the way I live the normative elements as circumstances and maturation in my inner life necessitates. Again, the constitutive elements of c 603 are not words with a single, fairly superficial meaning, but instead are doorways into rich, multi-layered realms the hermit explores as part of her commitment to God and to God's Church, and, in fact, to God's entire creation in eremitical life.

Every hermit I know lives this life at least somewhat differently from every other hermit. Yes, there are the same ridges and whorls, the same constitutive elements as those made normative in c 603, but the way each of us embodies these ridges and whorls, our unique eremitical fingerprints themselves, will differ one from another. The activities you ask about help empower and give shape to my solitary exploration of C 603 in God. Should any one of them begin to detract or distract me from this journey, then I will let go of it.

Living in the World Without Being of the World:

I have to say your question about living apart from the temporal world does not make sense to me. I am temporal, that is, I live in space and time. I am an embodied, historical being. That is what it means to be human. Yes, I am also empowered by the Holy Spirit to transcend space and time in some ways, but I am neither atemporal nor ahistorical, nor can I be. One dimension of my vocation is to allow God's will to be Emmanuel (God With us) to be realized ever more fully in and through my life. Another overlapping dimension of my vocation is to allow God to make me into someone who is prepared to be wholly united with God in a "new heaven and a new earth". A third dimension of my vocation is to assist others in committing to and living from and with that same God, His Gospel, and the New Creation, of which Jesus is the firstfruits (1Cor 15:23). Hermits embody the truth of Jesus' charge to every Christian to be in the world but not of it. I am committed to that goal, but I cannot do it by abandoning my own historical (spatio-temporal) nature. Indeed, given the importance of the Incarnation in revealing both God's unconditional, inexhaustible love and the fullest truth of humanity, and given my own place as a sharer in that mission of Jesus, how would I even begin to do that? 

Matter or materiality is not contrary to life in God. We believe in bodily resurrection and bodily assumption. We believe that in ways known only to God, embodied reality (whatever that looks like!) has a place in the very life of God because of Jesus' death, resurrection, and ascension. We recognize that when Paul speaks of being a spiritual being or a fleshly being, he is speaking of the dimension of reality that defines us so that being spiritual means the whole person under the power of the Holy Spirit, while being fleshly means the whole person under the power of sin. In either case, we are speaking of being an embodied person. One of the miraculous witnesses of the Eucharist is to the way Jesus, as risen Christ, is wholly and gloriously present in, and at the same time, wholly transcends mere bread and wine. Sometimes I wonder if this is a foretaste not just of heaven, but of the way a glorified reality will ultimately be comprised. After all, when we speak of our ultimate goal, it is of life in and with God, which will also be embodied. The Scriptures remind us that we look forward to a new heaven and earth in which this exhaustive union involves the whole of creation, where the entirety is glorified. (cf, Isaiah 66:22; 65:17, Rev 21:1, 2 Peter 3:13)

Returning the Tabernacle to its Pre-Vatican II Placement: A Failure to Honor the Real Presence Revealed During Mass

Dear Sister, not sure how to ask this so I'll just go ahead and give it a try. Last weekend we celebrated the Feast of Corpus Christi and our pastor moved the tabernacle back behind the altar from where it had been located in the main part of the Church. He had been planning this for a while but said the feast was the perfect time to do this. He said it was about putting Jesus right back at the center of things where he should be! Someone sitting near me explained that this was not what Vatican II called for. They said this was against what Vatican II called for but I didn't really understand his explanation. Was it really against Vatican II and didn't Vatican II want Jesus in the center of things?did they move the tabernacle because people no longer believe in the Real Presence?

Also, what I really wanted to ask you, if a hermit didn't want to be part of a parish or diocese, could they still be a consecrated Catholic hermit? How about if they never attended Mass? I know the Church teaches that there is something called the mystical Body of Christ and that the New Testment says we are to become spiritual beings. Can a hermit become a spiritual being and not be able to attend Mass? I thought that Catholics were obligated to attend Mass every Sunday so I wondered how someone could be a Catholic hermit and not go to Mass except once in a while? Too, when you speak about an "ecclesial vocation" doesn't everyone have this kind of vocation? we all live our calling from inside the Church, don't we?]]

These are great questions, all of them! Thanks for asking, not only about the hermit vocation, but about last weekend's Feast (Solemnity) of Corpus Christi and the reasons the Church moved the tabernacle (in most cases) from behind the altar to another part of the Church where the reserved Eucharist could still be honored, but not during Mass itself! The shift in placement did not occur because Vatican II did not believe in the Real Presence any longer, but because having the tabernacle present right behind the altar in most churches was distracting from what was actually occurring then and there during the Eucharistic liturgy itself. If the church was or is a really large one and the location of the tabernacle was or is far enough behind the altar so as not to call immediate attention to itself during Mass, no post-conciliar movement was or is necessary, but in most parish churches, this location focused the assembly's attention on the already-consecrated and reserved Eucharist which was accessed only at the end of Mass when EEM's were given what they needed to accommodate the sick who could not attend Mass itself. Let me explain (I will answer your questions on the hermit vocation in a separate post, I think.).

When we come into church and move to our seats, we either genuflect or (for those of us with old knees!) bow to the altar before sitting down in the pew. We do this in part because of the presence of the Body of Christ reserved in the tabernacle, but also because of what takes place at the altar during every Mass, and because of the presence of the Book of the Gospels which is usually present and symbolizes the proclaimed Word until the entrance procession when it is relocated to be carried aloft during that part of Mass.* Vatican II looked freshly and very seriously at what is happening during every Mass and all the ways Christ is and becomes present during the celebration. Especially, Vatican II recognized that what was important is not what had happened at other Masses (and therefore, what was present already in the reserved Eucharist, but on something we had often not paid sufficient, if any, attention to when our focus was on the tabernacle and the reserved Sacrament, and perhaps on the ordained minister of that Sacrament.

Most everyone would be able to tell you, if they were asked, that what happens at Mass is the transformation of Bread and Wine into the Body and Blood of Christ. But, relatively speaking, many fewer would point to what happens to the assembly during Mass, or what happens when the Word of God is proclaimed, or who is involved in the transformation** of the Bread and Wine during the consecration besides the ordained minister who is presiding. After all, for whom is the priest presiding, and what does this say about the presence and activity of the Holy Spirit amongst the Assembly?  Among the Lectors? In the Prayers of the Faithful and the reception of Communion? And why is it at Mass that the Church prefers the faithful all receive Communion with hosts that were consecrated at that Mass rather than from that reserved in the tabernacle? It is not meant to detract from the reality of the reserved Eucharist, after all. What I have just written here is suggestive rather than explicit, so let me make it more explicit.

These questions all point to the Sacramental or Mysterious presence (Sacramentum mysterium) of the Risen and glorified Christ during Mass and other liturgical celebrations. They call us to look out for and to be aware of, appreciate, and participate fully in what actually occurs at Mass, which includes and, without diminishing our reverence for the consecrated Body and Blood of Christ, is also a good deal more than the transubstantiation of Bread and Wine into the Body and Blood of the Risen Christ. Vatican II asked us to be aware of four related forms of Presence during the Eucharist: 1) in the Eucharist broken and shared (the glorified Christ made present in the species of bread and wine), 2) in the person of the minister who presides on behalf of the assembly, 3) in the proclaimed Word of God (which includes the homily or reflection), and 4) in the assembly, the People of God who have come together in Jesus' name. (CSL#7) 

What I want to call your attention to here are the verbs involved in each of these Mysterious forms and occasions of Christ's becoming present. The assembly gathers in God's name. They listen, pray, support one another, read, make significant gestures indicating faith at work, and so forth. The presider presides on behalf of the entire assembly (of which he is a part; he has been ordained so that God's grace makes him capable of presiding with and for us). He unites his prayer with that of the rest of us, and thus, allows us to be constituted and worship as a single holy People (laos), so that "where two or three are gathered in (God's name), there the Risen Christ is present in and with us. (Mt 18:20). The Word of God is proclaimed and Christ is revealed (both made known and made real in space and time) in the proclamation of the Word of God. During Mass, this disparate group of persons (even when mainly composed of Catholics) is made capable of being and is made into God's own worshipping People in this world. In this worship, the Church comes to be the Church or Body of Christ as God calls it to be.

This consecration, this several-fold revelatory event, this performative act of God exercised through his Word, and God's priestly People (including but not limited to the role of his ordained minister) is what happens at Mass each and every time we come together in the name of the Lord. Vatican II saw this clearly and reformed the liturgy in numerous ways in order to allow people to see and understand this. It is not just the bread and wine that are brought to the table of the Lord as gifts to be transformed. We, too, are brought to the altar to be broken open, transformed, and shared with others. As in the story on the road to Emmaus after Jesus' crucifixion and the destruction of all the disciples' hopes ("We thought he was the One!"), we come to know the risen One in the breaking of the bread and the sharing of the Word of God ("How our hearts burned within us when we heard. . . !"). What the Second Vatican Council wanted us to truly see and fully participate*** in was this Mass, this series of presences being made real in the contemporary Church's liturgy and worship. It is important to recognize the central presence of Christ in all of these ways, even when the tabernacle stands off to the side of the sanctuary, for instance.

In order to symbolize all of this and to draw our attention away from the reserved Eucharist, the Church moved the tabernacle from directly behind (or even on) the altar to another still-honored place away from the altar itself. She wanted us to pay attention to the coming of Christ in the center of reality in all of the ways he comes to be present there. She wanted our liturgy to have an event at the center of its celebration, a mysterious and hard to perceive event of giving, receiving, and sharing with the world what comes to be on this altar, not something that occurred yesterday or last weekend, but something happening here and now, with, through, and in our very midst!! Thus, one of the pieces of the Church's teaching on Communion during Eucharist obligated the local church to consecrate enough hosts for everyone attending to Communicate without drawing from the tabernacle's store of reserved hosts whenever that was possible. (There is nothing wrong with drawing from reserved stores as needed, but the preference for freshly consecrated Eucharist calls our attention to what is happening here and now, including the fact that we as a People of God are being constituted as the very Body of Christ in both the breaking open of the Word, the breaking of Bread, the sharing of the cup, and our pouring out our own lives to God and one another in this liturgy. It is the altar of God standing beneath the image of the crucified Christ, along with the book of the Gospels enthroned nearby, NOT the tabernacle, that is the central symbol of all of this!!!

The GIRM (General Instruction on the Roman Missal) allows for the placement of the tabernacle behind the altar only when the space is large enough there so that our attention is not drawn away from the altar and onto the tabernacle itself. Most churches do not have adequate space for this so the tabernacle is moved a bit off to the side to another place of honor where it is accessible (to reserve the remaining unconsumed Eucharist after the Communion rite, or to reserve enough consecrated hosts to bring to the sick as an extension of the Mass itself.) If you are in a normal-sized parish church, the fact that your pastor decided to use the Feast of Corpus Christi to celebrate moving the tabernacle back behind the altar, particularly with the idea that Jesus was missing from the center of the events of the Mass, suggests he either does not understand Vatican II's teaching in this matter, or even that he dismisses it.  After all, this movement undercuts VII's Eucharistic theology of multiple forms of presence, 

It is also likely to contribute to clericalism (a focus on the importance of the priest alone, to the denigration of the importance of the Sacrament of Baptism and the whole priestly People of God) at the same time. (More about this later if you desire it; the picture to the right should assist in seeing my point!) Moving the tabernacle back behind the altar in most churches does NOT move Christ back to the center "where he belongs". Instead, it assures that most people will not perceive him in the center of things where the Church wishes for us to also look for, listen to, and celebrate his very real Presence, that is, in the proclaimed Word, and among the baptized, the People of God gathered together in Jesus' name as "the called ones" (ecclesia).  I see this as a terribly ironic failure to worship the dynamic and real presence of Christ in the Eucharist, not an honoring of it. The irony seems to me to be especially great when the move is made and celebrated on the Feast of Corpus Christi.

I sincerely hope this is helpful. I'll get to the second part of the question ASAP!!

* A story I have told here before: A few years ago, I was participating in a Mass at Saint Mary's College of CA, where Bishops Remi de Roo and John Cummins were saying Mass for a group attending a presentation de Roo was giving on Vatican II. (Remember, de Roo was the Bishop who made the intervention at the Council to recognize the eremitical life as a state of perfection.) I was carrying the Book of Gospels in the entrance procession. Before Mass, there was a quick rehearsal with everyone involved in the procession to work out who came first, where, when, and with whom to bow, etc, to be sure we were all on the same page and Mass proceeded smoothly and reverently. Bishop Remi de Roo turned to me and said, "You carry the Book of the Gospels. You bow to no one!!" I think that one statement made more of an impression on me and my appreciation of what it means to regard the Word of God appropriately during Mass than anything else I ever learned in school, no matter the level.

** The precise form of transformation involved here is called transubstantiation because the substance of bread and wine is changed into the glorified body and blood of Jesus.

*** When we speak of our full participation in the Eucharist, we are not merely speaking of not praying the Rosary or doing other devotional activities during Mass. Neither is it mainly referring to sitting or standing when asked, or singing along, listening when appropriate, or saying the appropriate responses. All of that is involved, of course. However, our full participation is about praying the entire Mass so that we too are brought to the altar and broken open with the Word,  broken and shared or poured out with the Bread and Cup, made to be intimate members or sharers of the Body of Christ we call Church, and being commissioned to go forth to bring Christ to others as we proclaim the Gospel with our lives.

How Wonderful is my Soul With Sister Briege O'Hare, OSC

I write a lot here about the idea that God redeems us body and soul, and that to truly be spiritual is not about being disembodied, but means for our whole selves to be alive with and transfigured by the Holy Spirit. I wanted to share a bit of this same theology with the assistance of Sister Briege O'Hare and passages from Mechtilde of Magdeburg. This video is one of a series of meditations with the Poor Clare Sisters of Ireland. It is produced at the Monksland Hermitage. One of the images I love is that of God "losing himself in us", but I also love the correlative image of us, whole and entire, body and soul, immersed in the Holy Trinity like a fish immersed in the sea. Sister Brege's second song, Woman, based on Mechtilde's work, is also wonderful with its emphasis on the whole person alive in God and God in us.

I encourage you to listen to this when you have time to be quiet and allow it to speak to you. Sister Briege will introduce the meditation period. The entire period is about 30 minutes long. Other credits include: Poor Clare Monastery: www.poorclaresireland.org Monksland Garden Hermitage: www.cooleyparish.ie Song 1: How Wonderful Is My Soul by Briege O’Hare osc (Lyrics from writings of Mechtilde of Magdeburg) Background music: Flowing Light by Briege O’Hare osc Song 2: Woman by Briege O’Hare osc (Lyrics from writings of Mechtilde of Magdeburg) Singer: Marie Cox rsm Songs are available on iTunes. Read by Sister Marian Bell, OSC. The entire series of meditations is available on YouTube, and you may subscribe in order to get notifications of future meditations.

On the Importance and Contemporaneity of the Eremitical Vocation (Part 2)

 [[Hi Sister Laurel, I was surprised to find your blog. To be totally honest, I thought that hermits died out a long time ago. It is not that I don't believe someone should be able to go and cut themselves off from the world of relationships if they want to. I believe everyone should be able to do whatever they want so long as no one is hurt, but why would the Catholic Church elevate something like this to the point of consecration? I am sure that most people I know would be quite surprised to find out people choose to live as hermits today, and even more surprised to hear the Catholic Church supports and even celebrates such a choice. After all, the church is about community, and a hermit's life is not, right? So my questions are about whether or not eremitical life is anachronistic. Doesn't it really belong to another time, but not to the 21st Century? Is it meaningful (is it relevant)? Does it have anything to offer the non-hermit (or those who seek to become hermits) besides an escape from everyday difficulties --- if it even does that!? Can eremitical life be justified? Should anyone (you) even try?]]

I sincerely hope the first part of this answer (Importance and Contemporaneity of Eremitical Life) was generally helpful. What I tried to do was to outline the way in which I and the hermits I know or have read regard this vocation and its general importance in the 21C, or any century really. What I would like to say more about here are the questions of this vocation's justifiability and ecclesiality, whether or not it is escapist, and in what senses that word might or definitely does not apply. I also want to say something about the notion of freedom you raise in your questions, and whether hermits cut themselves off from the world, or from the world of relationships, and in what sense those actions are true. Many of these have been addressed in other posts over the years, and I'll try to add some links where I can, but perhaps it will be helpful to write about these again within the context of your basic questions about eremitism's justifiability and contemporary relevance.

I have argued that this vocation is not only not anachronistic, that is, it doesn't only belong to past centuries in terms of relevance, but that it is an important and, in fact, a prophetic vocation for the contemporary Church and world. The Church herself recognized this when, in response to Bishop Remi de Roo's intervention at Vatican II it revised the Code of Canon Law and added canon 603, thus allowing for the first time in universal law, the vocation of the solitary hermit as an ecclesial vocation and call to the consecrated state of life. In your question, you recognized the significance of such a move on the Church's part when you asked why the Catholic Church would raise eremitical life to such a place in the Church's life. 

Bishop de Roo had been the bishop protector for about a dozen hermits in British Columbia. These men had left their various monasteries and accepted laicization after many years in solemn vows because they experienced a call to greater solitude and had to leave their monasteries to follow this call. (Let me be clear; these men were often leaders in their monasteries and were not unhappy with monastic life, their vows, monasteries, or anything of the sort. They simply had experienced a call to greater solitude, and found that this call could not be accommodated under the monastery's own (or proper) law. Eventually, they formed a laura or colony of hermits. Because Bishop de Roo knew these men, their motivations, sensibilities, theologies, and vocations, he eventually wrote an intervention at the Second Vatican Council listing the important positive reasons the church should recognize this vocation as a state of perfection. The reasons he provided in his intervention are listed in, Visibility and Betrayal and at least one earlier blog post in late 2006 or 2007. 

Canon 603 and Ecclesiality:

One way of summarizing all of this history and its meaningfulness, is to point out that c 603 governs a form of life that is ecclesial; that is, it is a form of life that is not only part of the Church's patrimony, but is part of the Church's own holiness and contributes to the Church's health, both generally and specifically in terms of her prayer life, religious life, mission, and ministry. The canonical hermit's life reminds the Church and other religious (especially those in apostolic congregations) that before active ministry there must come a profound relationship with God. It is this relationship that allows the religious man or woman to love others as they ought to be loved in the midst of apostolic ministry. It is also this specific relationship that is mediated along with any other forms of giving that the religious does. The hermit's vocation does the same for cloistered religious and reminds them of the real witness of their lives, namely, a life in community lived for the sake of God and God's place in this world. And of course, the hermit does this for the entire Church, reminding us all that God comes first and can fulfill lives that are not wealthy, powerful, or possessed of much prestige in worldly terms. As I have noted recently, while the hermit may do some limited apostolic ministry, it is the inner journey to union with God that is essential to and definitive for the vocation.

Ecclesial vocations aren't simply lived within the Church; they are also lived for the sake of the Church, that it might truly be the church Jesus calls it to be. Those hermits who accept canonical standing with public vows and consecrations mediated by the local Bishop also embrace this dimension of the eremitical vocation in a public way. Non-canonical hermits live their vocations within the church, but they do not necessarily accept this dimension we call "ecclesiality" in the same way. Canonical eremitism, of course, is not the only ecclesial vocation in the Church, but the emphasis on the inner journey made possible by assiduous prayer, penance, stricter separation from the realm that is resistant to Christ or to Truth, and by the silence of solitude, sets eremitical life somewhat apart from the others, and allows it to emphasize something the others accentuate to a lesser degree or in a different way. As noted in earlier posts, it is the inner journey that allows us to confirm that the Gospel of Jesus' resurrection and God's unconditional Love, from which nothing including sin and godless death can separate us, are real and encounterable today. This allows canonical eremitical life to serve these other vocations and the Church as a whole. When we speak about the relevance or contemporaneity of the hermit today, ecclesiality is an important way of describing this.

Eremitical Life and Freedom:

In your question, you said you believed that anyone should be free to do whatever they felt like, so long as no one was hurt in the process. I believe that is the notion of freedom many people in today's world have. Let me point out that this is not the idea of freedom Christianity understands or embodies. Instead, Christianity defines freedom as the power to be the persons God calls us to be. This, in turn, is made possible by the Holy Spirit and God's unconditional love for us. Hermits live a regular life of prayer and penance, study, lectio, and limited ministry because they live a life focused on their relationship with God and on becoming the persons God calls them to be. One of the most important witnesses the hermit gives others is the fullness of life that is possible whenever God is put first. Some who read here know that one of the persons I have contended with most often over the years is an online self-designated hermit who calls herself a victim soul and writes almost interminably about the suffering she is experiencing. I have sympathy for her, but it is my understanding of eremitical life that it is not about suffering or being what has sometimes been called a victim soul. It is about living life with God. Yes, there will be suffering, just as there is with any life in this world, but eremitism is not a life OF suffering; it is a life of joy, meaning, and fulfillment --- countercultural as each of those actually is.

Canonical hermits (and likely all authentic hermits) are truly free. They are not free to do anything they want, of course. Their lives are constrained by vows involving the main areas of life, including wealth, power, and sex, and still they live lives I recognize as fulfilled because they are full of life, love, and meaning. They live according to a daily schedule, maintaining regularity and balance. They live a stricter separation from "the world," which includes but does not primarily mean separation from much of God's good creation; and yet, they are interested in, committed to, and engaged with that world for the sake of its well-being and the furtherance of God's Kingdom, nonetheless. All of these point to a fundamental freedom the hermit has to live a life as full and meaningful as possible within the framework of a desert context. Freedom, from this perspective, is definitely not about doing whatever one likes so long as no one is hurt. It is about living a responsible freedom where one's life is not only received daily as a gift of God, but also is given daily for God's sake and the sake of all that God loves and holds as precious.

Relationships, Escapism, and Eremitical Engagement:

Most hermits are not recluses, and even recluses in the Catholic Church are only allowed to be so within the context of a loving religious community that provides for such unique vocations. (The last I heard of recluses, only the Camaldolese and the Carthusians were allowed to have recluses. The last Camaldolese recluse I know of died a number of years ago in Big Sur, while the most famous might be Nazarena, a recluse living with the Camaldolese nuns in Rome.) All human beings need to be loved and to love, and for that reason, we all need others in our lives. We hermits say that "God Alone is Enough" for us, and we mean that in two related ways. First, only God is capable of completing us as human beings. Only God is sufficient for this. We are made for God, who is the ground and source of life, love, meaning, truth, beauty, and truly personal existence. Secondly,  our openness to and need for God make us open and responsive to all that mediates God to us in the incredibly varied ways the created world and other beings do that. What this saying does NOT mean is that human beings do not need other human beings, or can become truly human in complete isolation from others. Eremitical life has never meant to affirm such a notion of human being or of the nature of eremitical solitude. 

In my writing on this blog over the past 18 years, I have always drawn a clear line between isolation and solitude. I distinguish these two because one is life-giving and the other can deal death to the human being. I am personally sensitive to the distinction between these two and associate isolation with alienation and forced separation from the community of others. Hermits are more or less physically isolated from others; eremitical solitude requires this in order to spend time with God and the inner journey to healing, wholeness, and holiness we are each called to. However, we are not usually personally isolated from others, though we may not be as social as most people or able to spend much time with the people who are important to us. We are assisted in living this solitude by the Church and her liturgical and sacramental life, by spiritual directors, pastors, members of the larger community of faith, family members, physicians, and many others. I include among this significant group of people, especially other religious, and members of the virtual laura I am part of, as well as those I do spiritual direction with. It is not that I interact with these people every day or even every week or month of my life, but they are all a significant presence, and each one helps to focus my life on the defining relationship with God that makes me who I am and who I am called to be.

You suggested not only that a hermit's life is cut off from the world of relationships, but that it is not about community. I would argue that it is about community, though it is lived in eremitical solitude. In fact, I would argue (and have often done that here) that eremitical solitude is a rare and unique form of community dedicated to building the human family and the community of faith from the most important and original relationship extant, namely, that between the human being with the rest of creation and God. As for escape from everyday difficulties, there is no way c 603 life allows for or encourages that. The (canonical) hermit is self-supporting, publicly responsible, committed to the Church and society, and engaged on their behalf. She lives with the same limitations any other person does and perhaps a few more besides. What is most important to remember about this vocation is that it is identified by the Camaldolese in terms of the Privilege of Love. Indeed, I am not going to run for political office or travel to (or even stay home to do) a job forty hours or more a week, but, because I am called to stricter separation from "the world" in the specialized way c 603 uses that term**, it also means I am committed to God's will for the whole of this larger world. Thus, I stay updated on current events, work to ensure my education remains up to date, and I engage in whatever ways I can within the limits of my state of life to make our world all that God calls it to be.

So, this is the second part of my answer to your question. I hope it clarifies some things and raises more questions for the future. As always, if I have been unclear, please feel free to get back to me with comments and questions. Again, thanks for your questions. I enjoyed thinking about them freshly. I will post this before adding the additional links, so in the meantime, you can look at the list of topics on the right-hand column of the blog for additional information. All my best.

** The Church recognizes that "the world" in the c 603 phrase, stricter separation from the world, refers to that which is resistant to Christ, and not first of all to the larger world we identify with God's good creation. As a result, while the hermit is thus more strictly separated from aspects even of God's good creation, she is also well able to engage with and on behalf of that world within the limits of her state of life.

Feast of John the Baptist

 Today is the feast of John the Baptist, a desert dweller par excellence. Hermits, therefore, esteem him as a forerunner of our own vocation as eremites, desert dwellers.  John's life was marked out in the Scriptures as someone related to Jesus as family, and who stood as a witness to Jesus' messianic identity when he baptized Jesus in the Jordan. I have only written about John the Baptizer twice in this blog. Once, indirectly, on the Feast of Jesus' Baptism, and here, when I contrasted the forgiveness marked by John's baptism and preaching with that of Jesus. I wanted to post that second piece again, because it ties in with the witness of contemporary hermits whose lives proclaim Jesus and all that God accomplished for us in Jesus through his life, death, resurrection, and ascension. It also reminds us that God's revelation of his own justice depends on each of us opening ourselves and our world to a love and forgiveness that is even more profoundly countercultural and prophetic than John the Baptist's expression of it was. Lest that seem to be "damning John Bp with faint praise", let us remember that on Feast days, we celebrate people who are remarkable precisely because they pointed away from themselves to Christ and the God he revealed definitively and exhaustively.

Reprised: Gospel Reading referred to below is Matthew 11:16-19

Recently, I watched the story of a woman (Eva Moses Kor) who survived the holocaust. She was one of a pair of twins experimented on by Dr Mengele. Both she and her sister (Miriam) survived the camp, but her sister's health was ruined, and years later, she died from long-term complications. Mrs Kor forgave Mengele and did so as part of her own healing. She encouraged others to act similarly so they would no longer be victims in the same way they were without forgiveness, and she became, to some extent, despised by a number of other survivors. What struck me was the fact that Eva had come implicitly to Jesus' own notion of forgiveness and justice (where her own healing is paramount and brings about changes in others and the fabric of reality more than other notions of justice) while others clung to the Jewish teaching which states that amendment and restitution (signs of true repentance but more than this as well) must be made before forgiveness is granted. What also struck me was that she was indeed freer and less a victim in subjective terms than those who refused to forgive, saying they had no right. Further, her forgiveness and freedom freed others (including another doctor at the camp (Dr Hans Munch) who had, until he met Eva and heard of her own stance towards Mengele, been unable to forgive himself) --- though her forgiveness of Mengele and related freedom also pointed up the terrible bondage that can come from either refusal or inability to forgive which other survivors experienced --- especially as this became complicated by their newfound anger with Eva.

Matthew's Gospel lection reminds me of this video (and vice versa) because of the close linkage of John Bp and Jesus, and so of two very different (though still-related) approaches to repentance and forgiveness. On the one hand, a strictly ascetic John the Baptist preaches what John Meier describes as a "fierce call to repentance, stiffened with dire warnings of fiery judgment soon to come." (A Marginal Jew, vol 2, pp 148-49) In general, John's preaching is dismissed, and John himself is treated contemptuously as being mad or possessed by a demon. In the language of the parable, John piped a funeral dirge, and people refused to mourn.

On the other hand, we have Jesus of Nazareth preaching the arrival of the Kingdom of God and offering "an easy, joyous way into [that] Kingdom" by welcoming the religious outcasts and sinners to a place in table fellowship with himself. Meier characterizes the response to THIS call to repentance in terms of the parable, [[With a sudden burst of puritanism, this generation felt that no hallowed prophet sent from God would adopt such a free-wheeling, pleasure-seeking lifestyle, hobnobbing with religious lowlifes and offering assurances of God's forgiveness without demanding the proper process for reintegration into Jewish religious society. How could this Jesus be a true prophet and reformer when he was a glutton and a drunkard, a close companion at meals with people who robbed their fellow Jews . . .or who sinned willfully and heinously, yet refused to repent. . .?]] In other words, in terms of [the Matthean] parable, Jesus piped a joyful tune, a wedding tune, and people refused to join in the celebration and dismissed Jesus himself as a terrible sinner, worthy of death.

There is wisdom in both approaches to repentance and forgiveness. Both are part of the Judeo-Christian heritage. Both approaches are rejected by "this generation" --- as Jesus calls those who refuse to believe in him. Both lead to greater freedom. But it is Jesus' model which leads to the kind of freedom Eva Moses Kor discovered, and which is meant to mark our own Christian approach to repentance and forgiveness. After all, repentance is truly a celebration of God's love and mercy, and these we well know are inexhaustible. Still, entering the celebration is not necessarily easy for us, and we may wonder, as some of the other survivors wondered about Eva's forgiveness of Mengele, do we have the right to forgive? Is it wise to act in this way towards someone who has not repented and asked for our forgiveness? Isn't this a form of "cheap grace" so ably castigated by Dietrich Bonhoeffer --- also a victim of the Nazi death machine? (cf The Cost of Discipleship) Where does forgiveness become enabling, and does it demean others who have also been harmed? What about tough love: isn't John Bp's approach the better one? Am I really supposed to simply welcome serious sinners into my home? Into our sacred meal? To membership in the Church? To my circle of friends?

And the simple answer to most of these questions is yes, this is what we are called to do. The Kingdom of God is at hand, and Jesus' example is the one we follow. It is this example that leads to the freedom of the Kingdom, this example that made Christians of us and will, in time, transform our world. In particular, it is this example that sets the tone for [post-Easter] joy and festivity and allows God's future to take hold of our lives and hearts. It is not merely that we have the right to forgive in this way, but that we have been commissioned to do so. It is an expression of our own vocations to embody or incarnate the unconditional mercy of God in Christ.

Most of us will find ourselves caught between the prophetic example of John the Baptist and the Messianic example of Jesus' meal fellowship with sinners. We have great empathy both for the approach of Eva Moses Kor AND those survivors who could not forgive Mengele --- often because they felt that doing so was contrary to justice as spelled out in the Scriptures and elaborated in rabbinical tradition, as well as because it demeaned his victims. We know that "tough love" has a place in our world and that "cheap grace" is more problem than solution. The Feast's Gospel underscores our own position between worlds and kingdoms, and it may cause us to recognize that there was a deep suspicion of Jesus' table fellowship, which was grounded in more than envy or fear. We may see clearly that the Jewish leadership of Jesus' day had serious and justified concerns about the wisdom of Jesus' actions and religious praxis. Even so, it is also clear regarding which model of repentance and forgiveness we are to choose, which model represents the freedom of the Kingdom of God, and which model allows us to be Christ for others. As Matthew's version of this parable also affirms, the wisdom of this approach will be found in its fruit --- if only we can be patient and trust in the wisdom of Jesus, the glutton, drunkard, and libertine who consorted with serious sinners.