Nothing Can Make Up for the Absence of Those We Love

I first posted this piece several years ago, but it is particularly significant today for two reasons:1) this Holy Thursday is the anniversary of Dietrich Bonhoeffer's execution by the Nazis at Flossenburg, and 2) we are experiencing a time of learning to be Church in new ways during a pandemic which separates us from those we love, as well as from much of the ministry and other activity which also make our lives meaningful.  Still, the Holy Spirit is with each and all of us and we are joined as the Body of Christ in that Spirit; as we begin to celebrate the Triduum, each in the relative solitude of our own homes, let us hold onto that truth in whatever ways we can.

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A couple of years ago or so I wrote an article about Jesus' cry of abandonment on the cross; I suggested that it was the Holy Spirit, the Spirit of the mutual love of Father and Son  that maintained their bond of love while keeping open the space of terrible separation  experienced as abandonment and occasioning the suffering of both Father and Son which reached its climax on the cross and Jesus' "descent into hell". Both connection and separation are necessary dimensions of the love relationships constituting Trinitarian life characterized by the Divine mission to our world and thus, by the kenosis (self-emptying) eventuating in the cross.

Similarly, in writing about eremitical life I noted that stricter separation from the world was an essential part of maintaining not only one's love for God, but also for God's creation, because without very real separation we might instead know only enmeshment in that world rather than a real capacity for love which reconciles and brings to wholeness. In everyday terms we know that the deficiencies and losses we experience throughout our lives are things we often try to avoid or seek to fill or blunt in every conceivable way rather than finding creative  approaches to genuinely live (and heal) the pain: addictions, deprivations and excesses, denial and distractions, pathological withdrawal or superficial relationships of all kinds attest to the futile and epidemic character of these approaches to the deep and often unmet needs we each experience.

While we may expect our relationship with God to fill these needs and simply take away the pain of loss and grief, we are more apt to find God with us IN the pain in a way which, out of a profound love for the whole of who we are and who we are called to become, silently accompanies and consoles us without actually diminishing the suffering associated with the loss or unmet needs themselves. In this way God also assures real healing may be sought and achieved in our separation and suffering. It is a difficult paradox and difficult to state theologically. Paul did it in terms of the God of all comfort who comes to us and resides within us in the midst of our suffering. Today, I found a quote by Dietrich Bonhoeffer written while he was a political prisoner of the Nazis and separated from everyone and everything he loved --- except God; it captures the insight or principle underlying these observations --- and says it so very well!

Nothing can make up for the absence

of someone whom we love,

and it would be wrong

to try to find a substitute;

we must simply hold out and see it through.

That sounds very hard at first,

but at the same time

it is a great consolation,

for the gap --- as long as it

remains unfilled ---

preserves the bond between us.

It is nonsense to say that God fills the gap;

God does not fill it

but on the contrary keeps it empty

and so helps us to keep alive

our former communion even

at the cost of pain.

from  Letters and Papers From Prison

 "Letter to Renate and Eberhard Bethge: Christmas Eve 1943"

by Dietrich Bonhoeffer

As a hermit embracing "the silence of solitude" I know full well that this charism of eremitical life is characterized by both connection and separation. It is, as I have written here many times a communion with God which may be lonely --- though ordinarily not a malignant form of loneliness! --- and an aloneness with God which does not simply fill or even replace our needs for friendships and other life giving relationships. Sometimes the pain of separation is more acute and sometimes the consolation of connection eases that almost entirely. Sometimes, however, the two stand together in an intense and paradoxical form of suffering that simply says, "I am made for fullness of love and eschatological union and am still only (but very really!) journeying towards that." This too is a consolation.

Today I am grateful for the bonds of love which so enrich my life  --- even when these bonds are experienced as painful absence and emptiness. I think this is a critical witness of eremitical life with its emphasis on "the silence of solitude" --- just as it is in monastic (or some forms of religious) life more generally. I also believe it is the terrible paradox of relatedness-in-separation Jesus' almost-inarticulate cry of abandonment expressed from the Cross.  Thanks be to God.

Finished Work from "Worlds Within Worlds"

I wanted to put this up as the "finished picture" from Kerby Rosanes' Worlds Within Worlds, compared to what I put up two weeks ago or so. (cf Work in Progress) The mediums used for this picture include Prismacolor Premium colored pencils, Signo white gel pen, some Neocolor II water soluble crayons (for background water), and some white acrylic paint to enhance the Signa.

 Last night I thought I had ruined the picture and felt pretty bummed out. Except for  the background the entire picture was finished and I was really happy with it. I began the background. Awful!!  I actually considered giving up even the hours and hours worth of good work I had done; I then considered a couple of other unworkable (read "totally crazy") "solutions"! Fortunately, this afternoon I came back to the picture and continued adding layers and colors. I'm not entirely happy with it (it is not what I envisioned or wanted!), but it's not bad. More importantly, it reminds me of the need for patience, perseverance, and the importance of not judging such things until one is truly done.  

One book I am rereading parts of for Holy Week is, Triumph Through Failure, by John J Navone, sj. It's an important lesson we can take from Jesus' Passion, namely, that even human failure can be redeemed by God and become a means of Divine Triumph. That is the story of Jesus' passion; the triumph of Divine Love is the essential story of Easter.

As a Hermit Were You Prepared for Sheltering-in-Place?

[[ Hi Sister, I was wondering if your life changes much during this pandemic? Since you are already a hermit I was thinking you probably were pretty well prepared for all of this.]]

Thanks for your question. I have heard from a number of people calling to check on me or just to talk a while and they have often said something like, "Well, I guess you are used to this"! That was even truer at the beginning of the shelter-in-place requirement. In the beginning I answered, "well, yes and no!" but over time I have come to realize that while my life in Stillsong has not changed much, I have been feeling sort of disoriented. I tried to explain that to someone yesterday and it was clear I failed. So, when I was talking to Sister Susan this afternoon I tried again and I think I was a bit clearer. Let me try to explain it to you because this is the main way my own life has changed in this pandemic.

Often I have written that eremitical solitude is not the same as isolation, that eremitical solitude is a form of community --- unique, absolutely, but community nonetheless. What I have learned during this pandemic is that no matter how solitary my life is within Stillsong, I live this life against the background of a world and community I know and care about and for. When that world changes it affects my life here within the hermitage. One dimension of this is that the world outside Stillsong is an active, bustling world, and those ministering in this world are involved in active ministry. I live my life within this larger situation and context. I understand myself and my vocation within this context and against this backdrop, which includes my parish, diocese, and the Church more universally. And now, that context has changed. Everyone is sheltering-in-place. Active ministry has ceased in most ways. People are unable to live their lives in usual ways. Mass is not being said in ways I can participate in, and on the whole I find it disorienting.

I have known for a long time that my life is not only with God alone, but very much "for the sake of  others". Canon 603 says this explicitly when it refers to the "salvation of others". This has meant my solitude has been set against and within a communal background and context. What I was not so aware of is how very pervasive   that context has been -- even in a subconscious way. With this pandemic that context has shifted significantly --- and so, it is disorienting. I have  no doubt that part of this is due to the concern and even outright fear I have for those I love and care about, but again, this has to do with the communal nature of my solitude, the fact that I have been called to this from the midst of my parish community, for my diocese, for the Church universal. I suspect that most people feel that hermits shut the door on the world around them and carry on their lives without much awareness of that world --- except for limited moments of intercessory prayer. Some hermits do this. Personally I doubt the validity of such an approach in a Christian hermit and certainly in someone living eremitical life in the name of the Church.

The "stricter separation from the world" I am vowed to live defines "the world" as that which is resistant to Christ or which promises fulfillment apart from Christ. The larger world is an integral part of my vocation. As is true for many religious, and for some much more intensely than for me I think, a life of prayer in the silence of solitude allows me to "hear the anguish of the world" around me. But I also hear the joy of that world. Again, eremitical solitude is a unique form of community and while whole parts of my life are left unchanged, none of it is left untouched or unaffected. At the same time, life here at Stillsong continues as it ordinarily does. I continue to pray, write, study, etc. My relationship with God is fundamental and unchanging in the way God is unchanging and foundational. I think of the Carthusians who see themselves as a still point in an ever-changing world. I look at the cross (which for me and the Carthusians) is THE still point in an ever-changing world. And I reflect that here on Palm Sunday and during Holy Week more generally, we celebrate the events which establish that Still Point.
                                                       

So, yes, in some ways I was prepared for a time of enforced solitude (as others have described this), especially in the sense of an established regularity (horarium, prayer, study, writing, spiritual direction etc), and already having my life centered in the hermitage itself, but I was not really prepared for a pandemic or the degree of suffering and chaos resulting from that. The way people have stepped up to run errands, to be sure no one is forgotten, to extend resources to those whose health is compromised in some way and must stay in even beyond what the shelter-in-place requires, has also been marvelous and I am very grateful for it; it mitigates but does not obviate the degree of suffering in the world now. Like everyone attempting to learn new ways of working, I am trying to find ways to continue teaching Scripture at my parish (the need for this is even more critical now!), and folks are stepping up to assist in that. I am able to meet with clients via Zoom or Skype (and will likely do class that way as well). At the same time, it is Scripture that is a source of support, encouragement, and consolation to me in this situation.

During this week especially, I am reflecting on the way the entire world changed with the life, death and resurrection of one Man. It took time for the disciples to come to terms first with Jesus' death, and then with his resurrection. It took time for the disciples to begin to hear their Scriptures differently, to recognize the risen Christ in the breaking of the bread, or to begin to move out of their time of seclusion and fear to proclaim the risen Christ and a new world, to write what would eventually become a new set of Scriptures, to build new communities of faith. They too were isolated, disoriented, bereft, terrified, AND they grew into a people of hope, courage, and strength who were capable of speaking boldly their own truth now rooted in a risen Crucified One. I believe the same thing will happen to all of us now suffering from this pandemic. In my own life I know that the truth is rarely either/or; more usually it is paradoxical both/and. So, now I recognize that my own disorientation will co-exist with the more usual stability of my life and reveal more vividly the meaning of eremitical solitude --- not as something that protects me from what is going in in the world around my hermitage, but as a paradoxical witness to my profound participation in the life and hope of this same world.

This Illness will not End in Death

[[Dear Sister, when Jesus hears about Lazarus's illness, Jesus replies it will not end in death. But Lazarus dies! Also, Jesus says the sickness is for the glory of God and that Jesus will be glorified through it. Is he saying God causes illness so that he might be praised or glorified? My mind is really on this pandemic and all the "why?" questions that occur. It is ending in terrible numbers of death and awful suffering. How is God praised or glorified in this?]]

Thanks for your questions. I am sure they occur to many people during this Fifth Week of Lent when we reflect on Jesus and Lazarus within the context of this epidemic. The text you are referring to reads: [[3So the sisters sent word to Jesus, “Lord, the one You love is sick.” 4When Jesus heard this, He said, “This sickness will not end in death. No, it is for the glory of God, so that the Son of God may be glorified through it.”]] There are a couple of ways of approaching its meaning. I think the key, however is the meaning of the word "end". It can mean the termination point of something and there is no doubt the NT generally uses the word telos (τελος) in this way, both here and in texts like those speaking of Jesus as the end of the Law, for instance. But, it can also mean a goal or purpose, so that when we speak of τελος in this way, we are saying that the very purpose of something and the place or goal it leads to is not death. (When we speak of Jesus as the end of the Law in this latter sense, we are saying he is the one who embodies the very meaning and goal of Law. He is the one who fulfills its meaning, perfects it, and reveals all of this for us in a way which empowers us to "obey" or respond to and embody in our lives the law's deepest reality.)

So, the statement, "This sickness will not end in death," means not only 1) there is something beyond death, but also 2) this sickness will allow the revelation of the real meaning and goal of life itself. I used this text as one of those which illustrated the place of chronic illness in my own life as part of my Rule of Life back in 2004 or 2005. I did so because chronic illness had led me to understand a number of things about my own life and the grace of God. Especially it has been tied to learning in a deeply personal way the paradox of God's power being perfected in weakness; for me illness became a source of grace. It would not end in death (that is, in a graceless, purposeless, absurd, and empty "life"), but to an almost infinitely meaningful life where God's love is profoundly redemptive and transformative. At no point do I mean that God sent this illness (either my own or COVID-19) so that a lesson might be learned; instead, I mean that the situation of sin (i.e., the situation of estrangement from the source, ground, and goal of Life itself whom we call God) produces a situation of life-subject-to-death (in this case in the form of illness) and that God accompanies us in a way which can bring life and hope out of even the worst of circumstances --- ultimately including Death (absolute separation from God) itself.

Glorification or Praise:

Sometimes people will say that "everything happens for a reason".  I am not saying this. I am saying, however, that with God everything can be made purposeful, everything can acquire a meaning or reason for being it did not originally have. No one could have believed that COVID-19 could be a source (or, better, an occasion since God is the source) of grace. But it has. Tonight I attended a "town hall" of my parish. It was a virtual meeting and I was there before most people except our pastor and pastoral associate because ZOOM opened up automatically a little before the meeting began. Suddenly the faces of parishioners began popping up on my screen, people who attend the daily Mass usually, some from my Scripture class, and more from Sunday Mass, and I felt completely overwhelmed just by the sight of them. Several people shared stories of the way people are assisting each other, the warmth with which people greet one another on walks or runs, the generosity people are meeting in others in what is ordinarily a me-first world. People shared resources for worship, suggestions for allowing Christ to be first in a strengthening and inspiring way when Mass attendance was not possible, etc.

Certainly in all of this God is being glorified. But let me be clear; the primary meaning of the term "glorified" does not mean praised but rather, "revealed" or "made real in space and time". The glory of God is God's presence made known; to glorify God is to make him real in space and time (history), to manifest God in human history. Yes, to do this is to praise God, but that meaning is secondary at best. In this pandemic --- as with the Cross of Christ -- we will see people revealing the very worst human beings are capable of, but we will also see human beings achieving the very best we are made and have the potential for -- with and through the grace of God. Whenever that happens, whenever human beings act out of a love which is (perhaps) more generous. more sacrificial, more inspiring than usual, God is glorified. In these cases our lives praise and celebrate God, not because of COVID-19, but because even here God brings light out of darkness, life out of death, and meaning out of senselessness. In this way, "this illness will not end in death." On another level, we Christians believe God will bring life out of death through resurrection as well and that too is part of what we proclaim, especially as we approach Holy Week.

I hope this is helpful! Please stay well!
Sister Laurel, Er Dio.

We're All in This Together

I saw this this morning and loved it. Against a backdrop of terrible division, tribalism, and political polarization comes a pandemic which threatens to increase our own selfishness, tendencies toward greed, hoarding, and a general inability to see the needs of others; however, we are also seeing an incredible degree of service to others, volunteering, self-sacrifice, and just generally remembering we are in this together. "Whatsoever you do to these, the least of my brothers and sisters, that you do unto me."

In all of this pandemic's turmoil, as the perfect storm it represents becomes even more threatening, we are reminded of Jesus sleeping peacefully in the boat in the midst of the storm when his disciples feared for their lives. We are reminded of our confidence that the Light shines in the darkness and the darkness will not be able to swallow it up (comprehend it). We are reminded that in this Lenten season we prepare for the feast of Life overcoming godless Death and the subsequent story of ordinary people crushed by disappointment, grief, and fear who are transformed into courageous witnesses to resurrection; they are made those who proclaim the hope and presence of God's power (Love) made perfect in weakness.

For those who can "only" stay inside and protect their brothers and sisters in this way, and who suffer acutely because of this challenging limitation, remember the less-well remembered statement from Matthew 25:45, "whatsoever you did not do for the least of these, you did not do for me." Originally (and in Matt's gospel), Jesus was speaking about what we ordinarily call "sins of omission" as well as a general failure of charity; I doubt He imagined how the COVID-19 pandemic has transformed the way we must hear this now-urgent affirmation when the normal dimensions of living our lives for others (including communal worship, Sacraments, and meetings with those we serve in pastoral ministry) must be omitted to save lives. Here the counsel to charity remains primary.

May we continue to celebrate and support all those whose ordinary lives have become revelations of an inspiring extraordinary humanity we may never have imagined existing in them --- or in ourselves (!) --- and, in the power of Christ, may we thus remember and become who we are truly called to be precisely in our "ordinariness", littleness, and relative powerlessness.

Fifth Sunday in Lent

One of the ways our parish of St Perpetua comes together during this time of sheltering in place. Pastor, Father John Kasper, OSFS. I invite all readers to pray with us in this way. Pax et bonum!! Sister Laurel, Er Dio

Watch, O Lord, With Those Who Wait

Give Us This Day posted the above prayer today. It represents Augustine's prayer and a consoling and challenging theology. For many it will be hard to understand a God who does not reach into the situation the world finds itself in and intervene by destroying the Corona Virus and healing all of those afflicted. But that is not the way the God of Jesus Christ works. Yes, Our God is a God of miracles, a God who breaks in upon us with an unimaginable and rarely-well-enough-anticipated Love, but, as God did with Mary and with Jesus, the truly miraculous, the moments when Love breaks through and changes everything occur when human beings, through the power of the Holy Spirit, allow themselves to be fully open and responsive to the dynamic God Who is the ground and source of all of reality.

In the New Testament there is no word "miracle". What we call miracles and think of as events which break all the normal laws of nature, were called "acts of power" and were events that occurred when the deepest law, dynamic, or living dimension of all reality, the "law" or reality of Love, broke through everything separating us from it producing new life and meaning. They were precisely what happened when the God who accompanies us, who watches and waits with us, who is the ever-continuing source, sanctifier, and salvation of all reality was allowed to truly be God. Miracles in this sense are not a breaking of the natural law, but its realization in fullness.

Some will pray for God to stop this pandemic. I join them in this prayer. But I do not look for God to intervene in some sort of  Deus ex machina way. The miracles I pray for involve the God who works in and through us to change the world, to renew hearts, and to transform reality. I pray that all people will accept the requirement to shelter in place because they come to see how intertwined we all are as a human family, and because they chose self-sacrifice and generosity over selfishness. That would be genuinely "miraculous" and reveal a deep truth Christ proclaimed that our competitive, consumerist world ordinarily militates against. I pray that every one of us uses our imagination and creativity to bring people together in new ways, to love and care for the hitherto forgotten, and proclaim the Gospel of the God of Life with our own lives. I pray that our medical personnel are given every bit of equipment they need to diagnose, treat, and ultimately to defeat this virus and prepare for the next pandemic. I pray that each of us learns the truth and power of God's Love mediated in the myriad small ways human beings are called on daily to do for one another. That would indeed be an Easter miracle as Life and hope is brought out of death and despair.

Our God accompanies us in every moment and mood of our lives if only we will open ourselves to this Presence. Jesus demonstrated this on the Cross. It is the very meaning of "obedience unto death." Jesus opens himself to the One he calls Abba not only unto death, but unto godless death. His Abba accompanies him into the deepest depths of hell even when he is not aware of that presence. This same God thus brings good out of evil, meaning out of absurdity, and life out of death through this same Christological openness or obedience. This is the Good News of Easter, the mediated power of God made perfect in weakness that Christians recognize as the heart of what we call the genuinely "miraculous".  And so, in Christ, we who are God's own saints open ourselves to this God as we pray, "Watch, O Lord . . ." 

Feast of the Annunciation 2020 (Reprise)

Sometimes I reprise articles because they fit the feast and I have nothing really new to say, but today I am reprising this because it fits the unprecedented pandemic in which we find ourselves. It bears a message we each and all need to hear. And it comes with my prayers for your comfort and encouragement. Blessings, Sister Laurel

* * * * * *

I wonder what the annunciation of Jesus' conception was really like factually, what the angel's message (that is, God's own mediated message) sounded like and how it came to Mary. I imagine the months that would have passed without Mary having a period and her anguish and anxiety about what might be wrong, followed by a subtle sign here, an ambiguous symptom there, and eventually the full realization of the inexplicable fact that she was pregnant! That would have been a shock, of course, but even then, it would have taken some time for the bone deep fear to register: "I have not been intimate with a man! I can be killed for this!" Only over more time would come first the even deeper sense that God had overshadowed her, and then, the assurance that she need not be afraid. God was doing something completely new and would stand by Mary just as he promised when he revealed himself originally to Moses as: "I will be who I will be," --- and, "I will be present to you, never leaving you bereft or barren." (Both are good translations of the name sometimes translated, "I am who am".)

In the work I do with people in spiritual direction (and in my own inner work as well), one of the tools I (ask clients to) use sometimes is dialogue. The idea is to externalize and make explicit in writing the disparate voices we carry within us: it may be a conversation between the voice of reason and the voice of fear, or the voice of stubbornness or that of impulsivity and our wiser, more flexible selves who speak to and with one another at these times so that this existence may have a future marked by wholeness, holiness, and new life. As individuals become adept at doing these dialogues, they may even discover themselves echoing or revealing at one moment the very voice of God which dwells in the deepest, most real, parts of their heart as they simultaneously bring their most profound needs and fears to the conversation. Almost invariably these kinds of dialogues bring strength and healing, integration and faith. 

When I hear today's Gospel story I hear it as this kind of internal dialogue between the frightened, even bewildered Mary and the deepest, truest, part of herself which is God's own Word and Spirit (breath) calling her to a selfhood of wholeness and fruitfulness beyond all she has known before but also that stands in harmony with her people's covenant traditions and promise.

This is the way faith comes to most of us, the way we come to know and hear and respond to the voice of God in our lives. For most of us the Word of God dwells within us and only gradually steps out of the background in response to our fears, confusion, and needs as we ponder them in our hearts --- just as Mary did her entire life, but especially at times like this. In the midst of turmoil, of events which turn life plans on their heads and shatter dreams, there in our midst will be the God of Moses and Mary and Jesus reminding us, "I will overshadow you; depend on me, say yes to this, open yourself to my promise and perspective and we will bring life and meaning out of this; together we will make a gift of this tragedy (or whatever the event is) for you and for the whole world! We will bring to birth a Word the world needs so desperately to hear: Be not afraid for I am with you. Do not fear for you are precious beyond imagining to me."

Annunciations happen to us every day: small moments that signal the advent of a new opportunity to hear, embody Christ, and gift him to others. Perhaps many are missed and fewer are heeded as Mary heeded her own and gave her fiat to the change which would make something entirely new of her life, her tradition, and her world. But Mary's story is very much our own story as well, and the Feast of Christ's nativity is meant to refer to his being born of us as well. The world into which he will be brought will not love him really --- not if he is the Jesus our Scriptures and our creeds proclaim. (We bear this very much in mind during Lent and especially at the approach of Holy Week.) But our own fiat ("Here I am Lord, I come to do your will!") will be accompanied by the reassuring voice of God: "I will overshadow you and accompany you. Our stories are joined now, inextricably wed as I say yes to you and you say yes to me. Together we create the future. Salvation will be born from this union. Be not afraid!"

For the Beauty of the Earth

Many thanks to my Director for sending this video on to me this morning. In the midst of our struggles, insecurities, and the terrible uncertainties in front of us, we are called upon to recognize and praise God who dwells amongst us and in creation. For those, especially, who are shut in as part of a shelter-in-place arrangement, enjoy!

Work in Progress from Worlds Within Worlds

The above picture is a work in progress (WIP); it is side 1 of a double page spread in Kerby Rosanes', Worlds Within Worlds.  Some have asked me if I have a hobby or what I do when I am not reading, writing, studying, or praying. About a year ago I put up some pictures I had done with colored pencils. Here is the one I am currently working on and started three days ago. (This represents about 8-10 hours of work.) I began coloring as part of the inner work I am doing, and it has become an important creative outlet for me which is both strengthening and healing -- especially since I cannot yet play violin. It is also very helpful in terms of contemplative prayer (I recommend folks desiring to learn to pray contemplatively engage in some activities which are genuinely engrossing for them) and in dealing with any anxiety related to this pandemic -- because yes, I definitely experience some despite a faith that trusts that ultimately, everything is in God's hands!

I like Kerby Rosanes' later work, but especially some of the drawings in Mythomorphia, and now in his new book, Worlds Within Worlds. This is the first one I have done in WWW. One of the things Rosanes does is the morphing of images into new ones; he is very imaginative. In this book the pictures include more than one world combined. Here the fins and tail of the fish morph into waves and there are surfers on those waves. Each picture is an invitation to see reality in new ways --- something those of us believing the Kingdom of God is already part of our everyday life and world will understand! The colors shown above are a little redder than the real thing (there is more yellow in the fish, in some of the greens, and there is greater variation in tones than my camera captured).  As you can see the page on the right side is similar to this one; together they form a single "full spread" picture which, when complete (at least two to three weeks), I'll post.

Can Diocesan Hermits Become Diocesan Priests -- and Remain Hermits?

[[Dear Sister Laurel, I have read on your blog about priests becoming Diocesan hermits. My question is could a Diocesan hermit become a priest? and remain a Diocesan hermit. ]]

The answer is no. One would need to make a choice as to whether one is called to be a diocesan priest or a diocesan hermit. It is one thing for an older priest to discern a call to eremitical life in the second half or late in his ministerial life and quite another for a hermit to decide he wants to become a priest. The first is actually allowed very very rarely. Remember that the training and education in seminary for diocesan priests is ministerial; moreover seminaries accept those who psychologically and personally feel clearly called to active  ministry. Dioceses foot the bill for the education of such seminarians and, in a church now marked by a serious shortage of clerics it makes no sense at all to educate a diocesan hermit as a priest when what they really want is to remain a hermit.

There is a second dimension to this negative answer, namely, a diocesan hermit is professed and commissioned to live stricter separation from the world, a life of assiduous prayer and penance, and the silence of solitude according to a Rule of life written by the hermit and approved with a Bishop's Decree of Approval. None of this could be maintained while studying full time in the seminary, doing appropriate pastoral work, etc. This means again, a choice needs to be made and if one chooses to enter the seminary (and is accepted for this), then one's vows would need to be dispensed. Another problem crops up here even if the hermit is not accepted or even found suitable for seminary: a diocese would have a very significant reason to doubt the validity of the person's hermit vocation if he took serious steps to discern and follow a call to diocesan priesthood. Dispensation from vows might well be a prudent step in such a case. If a person wishes to be a hermit and a priest he would do better to enter a semi eremitical congregation or community.

One of the questions bishops ask a would-be c 603 hermit is why this vocation and not another? At this point a person is being asked to be entirely honest regarding their own discernment and desires. Were a person to accept profession and consecration according to c 603 and then request admission to a seminary within a few short years, their honesty in accepting profession and consecration might be questioned and the validity of their vows as well. (This would be especially true if there was evidence they had questioned the matter in the external forum.) In any case, in the situation you describe, one would never admit a diocesan hermit to a diocesan seminary. The two vocations are different and, in this situation, even incompatible because either one will never work or serve as a diocesan priest (and may never be suited to it) or one will not live (for at least several years or more) as a hermit. In any case, there is no intrinsic reason for a hermit to become a priest, no essential need for this. Yes, we do need access to the Sacraments, but there is no indication hermits must (or even should) be made priests in order to have such access. Better their ecclesial vocations call them to be part of the Church community in a way which allows these needs to be met by others.

4th Sunday in Lent

Sunday's Gospel, homily, prayer and blessing. John Kasper, OSFS (Fr John is pastor of St Perpetua's Catholic Community, Lafayette, CA.)

Feast of Saint Joseph (Reprise)

For today's feast of St Joseph, I wanted to repost something I put up a couple of years ago during Advent because it reflected an important step in my own appreciation of St Joseph. Though it refers to Advent in the last paragraph, I think it is especially pertinent today during this world crisis.

[[Friday's readings (December 2015) focused on the coming of the One in whom justice will be done and creation set to rights. Jeremiah speaks of this in terms of the Davidic line of Kings --- a line which often profaned and betrayed God's sacred promise and hope. The psalmist sings wonderfully of the promise of the Lord bringing all things to rights in the love of God.

But especially poignant is the Matthean story of Joseph as the icon of one who struggles to allow God's own justice to be brought to birth as fully as possible. It is, in its own way, a companion story to Luke's account of Mary's annunciation and fiat. Both Mary (we are told explicitly) and Joseph (we are told implicitly) ponder things in their hearts, both are mystified and shaken by the great mystery which has taken hold of them and in which they have become pivotal characters. Both allow God's own power and presence to overshadow them so that God might do something absolutely new in their world. But  it is Joseph's more extended and profound struggle to truly do justice in mercy, and to be a righteous man who reveals God's own justice in love, God's salvation, that was at the heart of yesterday's Advent story.

The Situation:

I am a little ashamed to say I have never spent much time considering Joseph's predicament or the context of that predicament until this week. Instead I have always thought of him as a good man who chose the merciful legal solution rather than opting for the stricter one. I never saw him making any other choice nor did I understand the various ways he was pushed and pulled by his own faith and love. But Joseph's situation was far more demanding and frustrating than I had ever appreciated! Consider the background which weighed heavy on Joseph's heart. First, he is identified as a just or righteous man, a man faithful to God, to the Covenant, a keeper of the Law or Torah, an observant Jew who was well aware of Jeremiah's promise and the sometimes bitter history of his own Davidic line. All of this and more is implied here by the term "righteous man". In any case, this represents his most foundational and essential identity. Secondly, he was betrothed to Mary, wed (not just engaged!) to her though he had not yet taken her to his family home and would not for about a year. That marriage was a symbol of the covenant between God and his People Israel. Together he and Mary symbolized the Covenant; to betray or dishonor this relationship was to betray and profane the Covenant itself. This too was uppermost in Joseph's mind precisely because he was a righteous man.

Thirdly, he loved Mary and was entirely mystified by her pregnancy. Nothing in his tradition prepared him for a virgin birth. Mary could only have gotten pregnant through intercourse with another man so far as Joseph could have known --- and this despite Mary's protestations of innocence. (The OT passage referring to a virgin is more originally translated as "young woman". Only later as "almah" was translated into the Greek "parthenos" and even later was seen by Christians in light of Mary and Jesus' nativity did "young woman" firmly become "a virgin".) The history of Israel was fraught with all-too-human failures which betrayed the covenant and profaned Israel's high calling. While Joseph was open to God doing something new in history it is more than a little likely that he was torn between which of these possibilities was actually occurring here, just as he was torn between believing Mary and continuing the marriage and divorcing her and casting her and the child aside.

What Were Joseph's Options?

Under the Law Joseph had two options. The first involved a very public divorce. Joseph would bring the situation to the attention of the authorities, involve witnesses, repudiate the marriage and patrimony for the child and cast Mary aside. This would establish Joseph as a wronged man and allow him to continue to be seen as righteous or just. But Mary could have been stoned and the baby would also have died as a result. The second option was more private but also meant bringing his case to the authorities. In this solution Joseph would again have repudiated the marriage and patrimony but the whole matter would not have become public and Mary's life or that of the child would not have been put in immediate jeopardy. Still, in either instance Mary's shame and apparent transgressions would have become known and in either case the result would have been ostracization and eventual death. Under the law Joseph would have been called a righteous man but how would he have felt about himself in his heart of hearts? Would he have wondered if he was just under the Law but at the same time had refused to hear the message of an angel of God, refused to allow God to do something new and even greater than the Law?

Of course, Joseph might have simply done nothing at all and continued with the plans for the marriage's future. But in such a case many problems would have arisen. According to the Law he would have been falsely claiming paternity of the child --- a transgression of the Law and thus, the covenant. Had the real father shown up in the future and claimed paternity Joseph would then have been guilty of "conniving with Mary's own sin" (as Harold Buetow describes the matter). Again Law and covenant would have been transgressed and profaned. In his heart of hearts he might have believed this was the just thing to do but in terms of his People and their Covenant and Law he would have acted unjustly and offended the all-just God. Had he brought Mary to his family home he would have rendered them and their abode unclean as well. If Mary was guilty of adultery she would have been unclean --- hence the need for ostracizing her or even killing her!

Entering the Liminal Place Where God May Speak to Us:

All of this and so much more was roiling around in Joseph's heart and mind! In one of the most difficult situations we might imagine, Joseph struggled to discern what was just and what it would mean for him to do justice in our world! Every option was torturous; each was inadequate for a genuinely righteous man. Eventually he came to a conclusion which may have seemed the least problematical even if it was not wholly satisfactory, namely to put Mary away "quietly", to divorce her in a more private way and walk away from her. And at this moment, when Joseph's struggle to discern and do justice has reached it's most neuralgic point, at a place of terrible liminality symbolized in so much Scriptural literature by dreaming, God reveals to Joseph the same truth Mary has herself accepted: God is doing something unimaginably new here. He is giving the greatest gift yet. The Holy Spirit has overshadowed Mary and resulted in the conception of One who will be the very embodiment of God's justice in our world. Not only has a young woman come to be pregnant but a virgin will bear a child! The Law will be fulfilled in Him and true justice will have a human face as God comes to be Emmanuel in this new and definitive way.

Joseph's faith response to God's revelation has several parts or dimensions. He decides to consummate the marriage with Mary by bringing her to his family home but not as an act of doing nothing at all and certainly not as some kind of sentimental or cowardly evasion of real justice. Instead it is a way of embracing the whole truth and truly doing justice. He affirms the marriage and adopts the child as his own. He establishes him in the line of David even as he proclaims the child's true paternity. He does this by announcing this new Son's name to be Jesus, God saves.  Thus Joseph proclaims to the world that God has acted in this Son's birth in a new and way which transcends and relativizes the Law even as it completely respects it. He honors the Covenant with a faithfulness that leads to that covenant's perfection in the Christ Event. In all of this Joseph continues to show himself to be a just or righteous  man, a man whose humanity and honor we ourselves should regard profoundly.

Justice is the way to Genuine Future:

Besides being moved by Joseph's genuine righteousness, I am struck by a couple of things in light of all of this. First, discerning and doing justice is not easy. There are all kinds of solutions which are partial and somewhat satisfactory, but real justice takes work and, in the end, must be inspired by the love and wisdom of God. Secondly, Law per se can never really mediate justice. Instead, the doing of justice takes a human being who honors the Law, feels compassion, knows mercy, struggles in fear and trepidation with discerning what is right, and ultimately is open to allowing God to do something new and creative in the situation. Justice is never a system of laws, though it will include these. It is always a personal act of courage and even of worship, the act of one who struggles to allow and mediate God's own plan and will for all those and that involved. After all, justice is really about coming under the sovereignty of God; where God is sovereign, where God asserts God's rights over reality, justice is done. Finally, I am struck by the fact that justice opens reality to a true future. Injustice closes off the future. In all of the partial and unsatisfactory solutions Joseph entertained and wrestled with, each brought some justice and some injustice. Future of some sort was assured for some and foreclosed to others; often both came together in what was merely a sad and tragic approximation of a "real future". Only God's own will and plan assures a genuine future for the whole of his creation. That too is something yesterday's Gospel witnessed to.

Another Look at Joseph:

Joseph is the star in Matt's account, the one who points to God and the justice only God can do. It is important, I think, to see all that he represents as Mary's counterpart in the nativity of Jesus (Son of David) who is Emmanuel (Son of the One who, especially in Jesus, is God With Us). Mary's fiat seems easy, graceful in more than one sense of that term. Joseph's fiat is hard-won but also graced or graceful. For Joseph, as for Mary, there is real labor involved as the categories of divinity and justice, law and covenant are burst asunder to bring the life and future of heaven to birth in our world. May we each be committed to mediating God's own justice and bringing God's future into being especially in this Advent-Christmas season. This is the time when we especially look ahead to Christ's coming and too, to his eventual coming to full stature when God will be all in all. May we never take refuge in partial and inadequate solutions to our world's problems and need for justice, especially out of shortsightedness, sentimentality, cowardice, evasion, or fear for our own reputations. And may we allow Joseph to be the model of discernment, humility, and courage in mediating the powerful presence and future of God we recognize as justice and so yearn for in this 21st Century.]]

How Do I Deal With Enforced Solitude During this Time?

[[Dear Sister, I am one of those people who hates to stay in! I am an extravert and love to spend time with friends. But  now I am having to stay in and it is causing anxiety --- though I am sure part of that is being scared because of the Corona Virus. I wondered if you ever feel these kinds of things when you are alone? Do you have any suggestions on ways to lessen anxiety or spend my time in this enforced solitude?]]

Great questions. Thanks. What is striking to me, and has been striking to those I am in touch with, is what this Lenten season has plunged us into. We begin Lent with stories of Jesus being driven into the desert (wilderness) by the Spirit, and of the fundamental choice we are each called to make again and again, not only during this season -- choose life not death! And we are still in Lent -- a Lent which is being deepened and will be extended beyond what we ever expected. I say this because my first suggestion is to stay in touch with this season; it will help contextualize the situation in which we find ourselves and even normalize it to some extent. Above all it will provide a perspective which is more familiar and can make some sense of the novel and unfamiliar circumstances we are now experiencing. Allow the things we talk about all during Lent to be the categories through which you view what is being asked of you by this pandemic: fasting, prayer, and almsgiving.

Fasting will take many forms as your normal routine and the normal ways of making sense of your life are taken away from you. If you are used to thinking of fasting in terms of food, that may still work, but it will be extended to time with friends, social activities, the availability of necessary items, etc. Prayer will also be extended and deepened for many people in light of the circumstances. I would certainly encourage this in your own daily life. It may be difficult to spend time in quiet prayer if you are not used to it (though I encourage you to try this by starting with limited periods (15 minutes) of simply being quiet with God), but you can sit and consider those people you most love, those you would be spending time with, family, etc and simply allow yourself to be with them as a supportive presence. Let whatever feelings you have for these people come up, let yourself love them, feel grateful for them and all they are for you, and ask God to be with them as they also are suffering in various ways. Almsgiving is certainly something we can deepen and extend during this Lenten period (and beyond it). One way is by refusing to become greedy or engage in hoarding or gouging behavior. Another is by doing errands for those who cannot get out or don't have transportation. Another is by giving what we can to those without housing, adequate heat, food, or hygiene. In suggesting these kinds of things I am aware I am really suggesting nothing more than the Church asks from us every Lent. The Pandemic is not the will of God, but at the same time it can be used as an opportunity for the Spirit to work in our lives.

Yes, sometimes I feel anxiety in solitude, though not usually because of the solitude itself. I expect a lot of people are going to be experiencing cabin fever. I would urge you to find indoor activities you can get truly engrossed in. If you are a reader then do more of that, if you like puzzles, set a table aside for this and begin a large puzzle you've been waiting on. If you keep a journal (or if it is time to start one!) consider doing that and write about your experience. How about coloring or painting or some other thing you've been wanting to try? What about an online class in something that interests you? There are many of these available including languages, Scripture, history, DIY projects, etc. And, speaking of DIY projects, I should definitely mention those big time cleaning and culling projects we all put off! Most of us have activities we complain we don't have time for. Well, now is the time. Please don't expect to ease all of your anxiety; if you can allow yourself to feel this is normal, uncomfortable as it is, do that. If you need to distract yourself in some way (taking a solo drive* or walk, or a walk with a single friend, watching TV, etc) then do that. Add these things to the essential Lenten elements mentioned above. Some of these can easily become prayer: simply ask God into whatever activity you are undertaking. Do this in a conscious way and renew the invitation or your thanks to God for being with you in this occasionally throughout.

And of course, find ways to maintain contact with friends, Skype, Zoom, or Facetime conversations, phone calls and texting could be very helpful here. Schedule some of these so you have something to look forward to. Expectations are an important piece of dealing with solitude, especially when one is not used to it. (In prayer it is important not to have expectations re what kind of experience it will be, for instance, but at the same time it can help to build in things you really enjoy at specific times so you can look forward to them as you move through the tedium of the day.) I should add here that it is often mainly the tedium of days in solitude which really gets to folks**; we all experience this. Sometimes we forget that our need for novelty does not satisfy our need for genuine newness. What monastics/hermits know is that our lives with God are filled with genuine (qualitative) newness each day even when there is not a lot of novelty. That requires real patience and trust in God. I have written about this in the past so you might check for articles on this if you are interested. cf., Always Beginners as a start. Getting used to fasting from novelty and opening ourselves to qualitative newness is something this time might allow you (and others) to do -- something that is especially important given the fact that this situation is going to be longer-lasting than we have yet let ourselves realize. As time goes on I may suggest other things to assist with enforced solitude. For now I sincerely hope this is helpful.
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*Except for necessary trips such drives are not allowed in the SF Bay Area. (I admit I don't understand this limitation if one is alone.)

** Though I have not written about this before, I should mention that another issue in solitude is finding that one simply doesn't like oneself very much. I can't address that here of course, but it is something folks should be aware of since it raises all kinds of feelings, irritation, fear, anxiety, anger, etc. For those who simply don't trust themselves or their own inner resources in such a situation as this pandemic, solitude can also be quite difficult. Again, these folks can use this period as a Lenten period of growth and new experience calling for patience and trust. Whether we like ourselves well or not, we will need to trust that our own inner capacities and resources are greater than we might have imagined otherwise. Above all we trust in the love of a God who accompanies us in everything.

Oakland Diocese Directive: the New Normal in a Global Community

Just received a copy of the new directive from Bishop Barber for the Diocese of Oakland. All public Masses, both daily and Sunday are suspended. All other activities, classes, etc are also to be postponed, suspended, or cancelled until further notice, Those who can work remotely are to do so. The chancery is closed. Those who cannot work remotely are to stay in touch with their team leader or supervisor. All are being compensated as normal. Priests are receiving special directions for administration of Sacraments, weddings, funerals, etc. Churches are to remain open for prayer, solace, etc. Social distancing is to be observed.

I suspect this is typical of what is going to be happening all over the world but seeing it in black and white hits me hard. I am not touched as much as some will be, of course. I have classes I cannot teach, services or homilies I won't be able to do, but my Director (and many other Sisters, et al) are planning personal retreats or "mini-vacations" and will have time to do some reading, writing, study, and prayer, we don't have time for usually -- at least until we see what the next weeks look like. I will continue to work with several clients online, but suspend face to face meetings. My trip has been cancelled so I won't be attending the profession I wrote about at the beginning of Lent. That is a real disappointment but I am also at peace in this regard. Traveling at this time is simply imprudent at best, careless and uncharitable at worst.

Should anyone have doubted we are a global community, should anyone have thought we could wall ourselves off from the world around us COVID19 certainly reminds us of the truth. We have all heard stories how the movement of butterfly wings in the Southern hemisphere can lead to a major storm in the Northern hemisphere. It sounds ridiculous to us, but here we are. The analogy is compelling. In the middle of what will be a long term situation begun in a wet  market in China and contact with a single bat and is now a raging pandemic, we have to find our way together! We must find ways to protect and support one another. Here in the SF Bay area and the Diocese of Oakland we are beginning to do that in new and challenging ways. I hear the question, "How will you be Church?" It will take all our creativity and courage, all the compassion and charity we can muster, but especially it means keeping our eyes focused on the truth of our membership in a global community.