Central Theological Insights Around Which my Life Spirals Ever Deeper (pt 1: Reprise, with tweaks, from 2015)

Sister Mary Southard, CSJ

In the last few years, I've acquired more of or nuanced the central theological insights I posted about in 2015. In other words, I have thought more about this vocation and grown in it as well. I thought I would add another post as a follow-up, hence this reprise as preparation for that. 

[[Dear Sister Laurel, since you have studied Theology I wondered what are the most important lessons you have learned over the years. It may be these are theological or spiritual but are there certain lessons you keep coming back to, you know, points around which you circle and go ever deeper? Are any of these specific to your life as a hermit?]]

 What a terrific set of questions! I especially like the image of circling and going deeper because both my director and other friends and I sometimes speak of the spiral pattern to growth. We return to the same pieces of growth, the same insights, the same bits of clarity but each time from a different and deeper perspective. Each time the center is closer or I exist closer to the center. That happened once recently as I wrote about the gift of emptiness and the linkage between the hiddenness of the eremitical vocation and the work of God within us. At the time I noted that all the pieces had been there and I had written and spoken of each of them before --- often many times --- but I had never placed these two together in exactly this way before. They glowed for me with a kind of new incandescence  -- as though a blue piece of the theological puzzle and a red piece, once joined together, glowed with a purple light. A handful of the more significant lessons I have learned --- usually both theologically and spiritually --- are as follows:

The human heart is a theological reality:

One of the most personally and professionally important pieces I can point to is the notion that the term "heart" is a theological term, and the human heart is, by definition, the place where God bears witness to Godself. The corollary is also important, namely, it is not so much that we have a heart and God comes to dwell there but that where God dwells we have a (human) heart! It was from this bit of theology taken from a footnote in an article on kardia (Kαρδία) in the Theological Dictionary of the New Testament that a number of other emphases in my life and writing come. The notion that human beings ARE a covenant reality, a dialogue with God, a language event called to be Divine Word incarnate, comes from this insight (though they are related to other things as well). When coupled with the notion that God is ever new because God is eternal and eternal because God is ever new, this all led me to a notion of my own life which never allowed the sense that I was wounded beyond the capacity for new life, or the sense that there was nothing more to hope for.

The notion of the human heart as the place where God bears witness to Godself allowed me to see myself as having a deep place or reality within me where not even human woundedness and sinfulness can touch. There are darknesses in me, of course, but deeper than those is the light of God. There are distortions and untruths, but deeper than these is the God who is truth and who continually summons to truth, the One who creates New life with this Word and redeems the whole of reality. That God, whether I speak of him as Ground and Source of Being (cf. below) or as the center and depth dimension of my own heart, is the One who brings life out of death and makes hope rather than despair the pedal tone of my life.

God is Verb More than God is Noun:

As part of this theology is the notion that God is verb as much or more than God is noun. The dynamism of this idea, that God is not just Love but even more is Love-in-Act has been central for me. In thinking of the human being as a covenant or dialogical reality with Love-in-Act dwelling in the core of her being I also saw clearly that there was a dynamic and inalienable part of me that was constantly moving (or summoning) the whole of me towards abundant life and holiness. Speaking of God as a living God, thinking of the human soul as the constantly renewed breath of God, realizing that God was never summoned into action but was already moving, acting, healing, touching, etc, was important in the same way the idea that the word heart is a fundamentally theological term was important. Among other things, I realized I could never think of myself as wounded beyond the capacity to respond or beyond hope. There was always an unquenchable source of life living in my heart transcending the capacity of sin or death (in all its forms and variations) to stop or paralyze it. Moreover, this way of conceiving of God is both profoundly Scriptural while at the same time comporting with the "event nature" of the "true self" and the whole of reality we are dealing with more and more because of contemporary physics. It invites further theological reflection while taking quantum mechanics, etc, seriously. The same is true of the next bit of theology.

God is Ground and Source of Being; God is not A Being:

It is hardly possible to say all the ways this bit of theology has been crucial for me. Recently in explaining about the fact that miracles are not the result of a God who intervenes in and contravenes the laws of nature but is rather the revelation of the deepest "law" of reality I had occasion to refer to this famous bit of Paul Tillich's systematic theology. My understanding of and insistence that the whole of reality is at least potentially sacramental is also rooted in this piece of theology. My work and reading regarding the relationship of science and faith --- the fact that these two are different ways of knowing the same reality, both with their own strengths and deficiencies, is built on this notion of God as Transcendent ground and source of being and meaning. The notion that God is the ground and source of all that is truly personal is another side of this foundational theological datum. Above all, perhaps, my sense that God is omnipresent but also summoning us each to enflesh "him" and bring him to a unique articulation in the ways only human beings seem able to do that is related to the notion of God as Ground and Source.

With regard to eremitical life it is the fact that union with God implies and in fact establishes our communion with others that is the primary key to my understanding eremitical solitude in terms not of aloneness so much as in terms of communion with God and all that is precious to God. Worldly solitude (and external or physical solitude) have more to do with being isolated from others than with communion and relatedness, but in Christian eremitical life solitude moves from and through this external solitude to a deep relatedness with God and others. Anyone can leave people behind and embrace a self-centered 'spirituality' marked by a selfish piety --- at least for a time --- but the paradox of authentic eremitical solitude is that when one embraces external or physical solitude in order to pray and be made God's own prayer, one also becomes more compassionate and more profoundly related to others as well.

This is why canon 603 specifies a life "lived for others" --- not first of all because one's life is that of an intercessor (though one will surely pray for others) but because external solitude is the means to a literal compassion, a literal feeling with and for others involving the desire to alleviate suffering and mediate God and the hope God brings the isolated and marginalized to others. All of this is rooted in the fact that God is the ground of being and meaning of all that exists; to move more deeply into union with God means to become more truly related to all else that is similarly related to and grounded in God.

Divine Sovereignty is the Counterpart of Human Freedom:

So often we pose our own freedom as something in conflict with the sovereignty of another but with God the opposite is true. The last three pieces of theology combine to reveal that human beings are truly themselves when God is allowed to truly be God. Because God is not A Being he never comes into competition with human beings --- as would inevitably and invariably happen if God were a being among other beings --- maybe especially as A (or THE) supreme being. Instead, though, God is the power underlying and within reality, the power driving and summoning to abundant life, to authenticity and to the reality of future and completion. This means (especially if the other insights are true) that if freedom is really the power to be the ones we are called to be, it must be seen as the counterpart to the sovereignty of God and God's call to be. So often it has been critically important that I understand that the will of God is the deepest law of my own true Self. Discerning the will of God means discerning where I am truly free, giving myself over to that will means giving myself over to my own deepest truth, giving myself over to the One who grounds my being and dwells as the core of my Self.  I am free when God is Lord. God is Lord to the extent I am truly free to be myself. So too for each and all of us.

Gospel Truth is ALWAYS Paradoxical:

When I began studying Theology my major professor gave a lecture on two ways of thinking, the Greek way and the Biblical way, the way of compromise (thesis + antithesis ---> (leads to or requires) synthesis) and the way of radical relatedness where two apparently opposing realities are held together in tension and identity (thesis + antithesis) does not equal conflict but = paradox). The most radical formulation of paradox living at the heart of Christianity is the Incarnation where Jesus is the exhaustive revelation of God to, and only to the extent he is exhaustively human, and where he is exhaustively human to and only to the extent he reveals God. Jesus is strongest where he is weak, fullest where he is empty, richest where he has nothing at all to recommend him in worldly terms. The Trinity is also paradoxical rather than being some weird kind of new (or very ancient) math: where God is One, God is a Trinitarian Community of Love and where God is a Trinitarian community of Love, God is truly One. Christianity is rooted in paradox and is always expressed in paradox: we have ourselves only to the extent we give ourselves away, insofar as we are mourners we will also know a deeper and more extensive joy, where we are rich in worldly terms we are poor in divine terms, etc, etc.

I always look for the paradox involved when I am doing theology --- so much so that I know if there is no paradox, I have very likely transgressed into some form of heresy or other. Docetism, for instance, which takes its name from the Greek verb δοκεῖν (dokein) "to seem," takes the divinity of Jesus seriously at the expense of his humanity (he only seems human). Arianism, for instance, takes his humanity seriously at the expense of his divinity. The Christological task which confronts the systematic theologian, but also the ordinary believer in faith, is to hold the two things together in both tension and identity --- so that where Jesus is exhaustively human, there he is also the exhaustive revelation of God (despite the fact that humanity and divinity are not the same things).

Henri de Lubac once noted that one does not resolve or answer a paradox (to do so would compromise one or, more likely, both of the truths involved); rather, the only appropriate approach to paradox is contemplation. Pope Francis recently reminded us of the same thing. It is paradox which eventually allowed me to think of chronic illness as divine vocation (though I don't believe God wills illness), or to understand that in eremitical life the inability to minister to or love others in all the usual ways was, when lived with integrity, itself  a doorway to the ultimate ministry and love of others --- not in some bloodless and abstract way (not that that would be love anyway) but in the sense of living the deepest truth of human existence for the sake of others --- especially those who are without hope and those who, on the other end of the spectrum, believe they are their own best hope!

In my Uniqueness, I am the Same as Everyone Else (Please note the paradox!!):

There were (and I guess still are) many things in my life which made (and make) me different from the people around me: family, interests, gifts, illness, desires and dreams and eventually even vocation. Though I always got on well with others, was well-liked, and did well in school, in athletics, music, work, etc, so I also stood out or apart. When I developed a seizure disorder it turned out not to be a kind of run-of-the-mill epilepsy (sorry, but some epilepsies really are kind of "run-of-the-mill" to my mind) but a medically and surgically intractable epilepsy whose seizures were rare and often initially unrecognized. Everything in my life seemed to point to my "difference". But at one point, perhaps 35 or so years ago I came to see myself clearly as the same as everyone else --- even in my differences most fundamentally I was the same.

As a result, I came to experience a profound empathy with others and a sense that the things which seemed to set me apart were, in one way and another, little different from the things which seemed to set others apart. I discovered paradox here too!! Precisely in my uniqueness, I am the same as everyone else! I suspect when people write of Thomas Merton's experience on that street corner in Louisville, they are describing something similar to what happened to me. I can't point to a single event   as the focus of this shift, nor can I say I realized I loved everyone at that moment as happened to Merton, but the compassion and empathy Merton experienced sounds similar to what I experienced. Moreover, I believe Merton, especially as monk and (potential) hermit schooled in a "fuga mundi" way of approaching the world outside the monastery and wounded by his Mother's death and other circumstances from childhood and young adulthood, was coming from a place where he felt profoundly alien or different in many of the ways I had myself done. (N.B. Some Cistercians eschew the fuga mundi approach to monastic life on the basis of Trappist and Trappistine authors; Merton too seemed to eschew this approach when he wrote about "the problem" of the World, but my sense is he was still schooled in it in his early years at Gethsemani.)

In any case, the source of my worst suffering --- not least because it is self-reinforcing and self-isolating --- turned out to be seeing myself as different from everyone else, and the source of greatest joy came to be seeing myself in terms of my commonality with others. This is not an abstract truth (that would never have touched me) but is at least partly due to being profoundly understood by others who did not share the same differences (though no doubt they had their own). In any case, as a result (and to the extent I truly know this), I am not threatened by others' gifts, frightened by their differences, nor driven to despair by my own differences and deficiencies. Neither do I have a need to use my own gifts as weapons to humiliate others or prove my own superiority (or even my own competence). All of these are are part of our more profound "sameness" or commonality. This was a central piece of coming to truly love myself and others as myself.  It is the sine qua non without which no one can truly minister to others. Again, I am not entirely certain how I came by it, but I recognize it as a great gift and something that makes living Christianity and religious (and especially eremitical) life really possible.

Our God Reveals Godself in the Unexpected and Unacceptable Place:

I won't write a lot about this here except to say please check out posts on the theology of the Cross. There is no part of my life that is untouched by Paul's Theology of the Cross. Every part of my own theology is informed by the Cross. Recently I wrote about kenosis and the possibilities which still exist when one has been entirely emptied of every discrete gift and potential for ministry --- if only one can remain open to God. It is from such a position of emptiness, incapacity, and even certain kinds of failure, that Jesus' obedience (openness and responsiveness) to God opens our broken and sinful World most fully to God's redemption.

It is Mark's similar theology that gives me a sense that when all the props are kicked out God's faithfulness is the single thing we can count on, the thing that brings life out of death, communion with God out of godlessness, meaning out of absurdity and so forth. The notion that God becomes incarnate, that God does not hesitate to do what no other merely putative god would do, that the God of Jesus Christ accepts dishonor and shows a power which is truly perfected in weakness --- and that this God can be found in the unexpected and entirely "unacceptable" place --- is the source of all my hope and strength. It is an immeasurable mystery I am happy to reflect on, walk into and explore for the whole of my life. Such a God is paradoxical and so is such a gospel. In truth it is this theology of the cross and the paradoxical God it reveals that is the real source and ground of all of the other things I have already spoken about here.

There are probably a few other pieces of theology that are pivotal in my own life. One I haven't mentioned here is the notion that humility is a name we give the dignity we possess as those accepting the God of Jesus Christ and ourselves in light of that God; humility is something God raises us to and the appropriate verb is to humble, not to humiliate. The second truth I have always clung to is that anyone seeking to do serious theology must come to terms with the Holocaust. It is here that the Theologies of the Cross of Paul and Mark and so many of the other pieces or insights I have mentioned find their ultimate test of theological validity --- far more, of course than they do in the much smaller struggles of my own life. In any case, I will leave this here for now and come back to finish later --- I need to think about which of these are specific to eremitical life. In the meantime, I hope what I have written so far is helpful.

I Trust You Video

 

I put this up a few years ago and wanted to repeat it. I found it profoundly moving, but also interesting to watch in terms of the various responses: hesitancy to respond, eagerness to respond, uncertainty and inability or unwillingness to believe the statement on the poster, peer pressure both for and against, partialness of response, wholehearted responses, shared pain and tears, laughter, etc. Today, when divisions are even more exaggerated than ever, we need the reminder that we all have more in common than we have differences, and for Christians, the task of making neighbors of aliens" (that is, "the other") is enjoined on us by virtue of the Christ in whose death and life we are baptized. 

Part of accomplishing this is with the kind of vulnerability to the "other" shown by Karim Sulayman as he stands blind to appearances and open to approach. One of the most Christlike characteristics we find in the Scriptures is Jesus' vulnerability (and that of the Abba he reveals)!! If we can adopt the same attitude and way of being present in our world, we assist our God to truly be Emmanuel, God-with-us, and make of our world the place God wills it to be. We help fulfill our vocation to be truly and authentically human. 

Karim Sulayman - I trust you (Lyrics In This Heart by Sinead O'Connor) from Meredith Kaufman Younger on Vimeo. (And, yes, as noted above, Karim Sulayman, a gifted Lebanese-American tenor, is singing the lyrics for this video! I wonder how many people saw him as even so potentially gifted as they looked at him, read his poster, and tried to decide whether to approach him or not.)

Feast of Saint Romuald (Reprise)

Romuald Receives the Gift of Tears,
Br Emmaus O'Herlihy, OSB (Glenstal)

Congratulations to all Camaldolese and Prayers for you and yours! June 19th is the feast day of the founder of the Camaldolese Congregations! We remember the anniversary of the solemn professions of a number of Camaldolese as well as the birthday of the Prior of New Camaldoli, Dom Cyprian Consiglio.

Ego Vobis, Vos Mihi,: "I am yours, you are mine"

Saint Romuald has a special place in my heart for two reasons. First, he went around Italy bringing isolated hermits together or at least under the Rule of Benedict --- something I found personally to resonate with my own need to seek canonical standing and to subsume my personal Rule of Life under a larger, more profound, and living tradition or Rule; secondly, he gave us a form of eremitical life which is uniquely suited to the diocesan hermit. St Romuald's unique gift (charism) to the church involved what is called a "threefold good", that is, the blending of the solitary and communal forms of monastic life (the eremitical and the cenobitical), along with the third good of evangelization or witness -- which literally meant (and means) spending one's life for others in the power and proclamation of the Gospel.

Stillsong Hermitage

So often people (mis)understand the eremitical life as antithetical to communal life, to community itself, and opposed as well to witness or evangelization. As I have noted many times here they mistake individualism and isolation for eremitical solitude. Romuald modeled an eremitism that balances the eremitical call to physical solitude and a commitment to God alone with community and outreach to the world to proclaim the Gospel. I think this is part of truly understanding the communal and ecclesial dimensions which are always present in true solitude. The Camaldolese vocation is essentially eremitic, but because the solitary dimension or vocation is so clearly rooted in what the Camaldolese call "The Privilege of Love" it therefore naturally has a profound and pervasive communal dimension which inevitably spills out in witness. Michael Downey describes it this way in the introduction to The Privilege of Love:

Theirs is a rich heritage, unique in the Church. This particular form of life makes provision for the deep human need for solitude as well as for the life shared alongside others in pursuit of a noble purpose. But because their life is ordered to a threefold good, the discipline of solitude and the rigors of community living are in no sense isolationist or self-serving. Rather both of these goods are intended to widen the heart in service of the third good: The Camaldolese bears witness to the superabundance of God's love as the self, others, and every living creature are brought into fuller communion in the one love.

Monte Corona Camaldolese

The Benedictine Camaldolese live this by having both cenobitical and eremitical expressions wherein there is a strong component of hospitality. The Monte Corona Camaldolese which are more associated with the reform of Paul Giustiniani have only the eremitical expression which they live in lauras --- much as the Benedictine Camaldolese live the eremitical expression.

In any case, the Benedictine Camaldolese charism and way of life seem to me to be particularly well-suited to the vocation of the diocesan hermit since she is called to live for God alone, but in a way that ALSO specifically calls her to give her life in love and generous service to others, particularly her parish and diocese. While this service and gift of self ordinarily takes the form of solitary prayer which witnesses to the foundational relationship with God we each and all of us share, it may also involve other, though limited, ministry within the parish including limited hospitality --- or even the outreach of a hermit from her hermitage through the vehicle of a blog!

In my experience, the Camaldolese accent in my life supports and encourages the fact that even as a hermit (or maybe especially as a hermit!) a diocesan hermit is an integral part of her parish community and is loved and nourished by them just as she loves and nourishes them! As Prior General Bernardino Cozarini, OSB Cam, once described the Holy Hermitage in Tuscany (the house from which all Camaldolese originate in one way and another), "It is a small place. But it opens up to a universal space." Certainly, this is true of all Camaldolese houses and it is true of Stillsong Hermitage as a diocesan hermitage as well.

The Privilege of Love

For those wishing to read about the Camaldolese, there is a really fine collection of essays on Camaldolese Benedictine Spirituality which was noted above. It is written by OSB Camaldolese monks, nuns, and oblates. It is entitled aptly enough, The Privilege of Love and includes topics such as, "Koinonia: The Privilege of Love", "Golden Solitude," "Psychological Investigations and Implications for Living Alone Together," "An Image of the Praying Church: Camaldolese Liturgical Spirituality," "A Wild Bird with God in the Center: The Hermit in Community," and a number of others. It also includes a fine bibliography "for the study of Camaldolese history and spirituality."

Romuald's Brief Rule:

And for those who are not really familiar with Romuald, here is the brief Rule he formulated for monks, nuns, and oblates. It is the only thing we actually have from his own hand and is appropriate for any person seeking an approach to some degree of solitude in their lives or to prayer more generally. ("Psalms" may be translated as "Scripture".)

Sit in your cell as in paradise. Put the whole world behind you and forget it. Watch your thoughts like a good fisherman watching for fish. The path you must follow is in the Psalms — never leave it. If you have just come to the monastery, and in spite of your good will you cannot accomplish what you want, take every opportunity you can to sing the Psalms in your heart and to understand them with your mind. And if your mind wanders as you read, do not give up; hurry back and apply your mind to the words once more. Realize above all that you are in God's presence, and stand there with the attitude of one who stands before the emperor. Empty yourself completely and sit waiting, content with the grace of God, like the chick who tastes and eats nothing but what his mother brings him.

On Bishops Writing a Hermit's Rule and the Requirement that a C 603 Hermit Write Her Own Rule

[[Dear Sister, must a Canon 603 hermit write his own Rule or "Program of living"? Couldn't his bishop write the Rule for others in the diocese and allow the new hermit to use that Rule? I can't see where the canon requires a hermit to write his own Rule either. Thanks.]]

Thanks for the question! I think some of it is new here. Let me point to the one place in the canon you may have missed. The second paragraph of canon 603 reads: [[ §2. A hermit is recognized by law as one dedicated to God in consecrated life if he or she publicly professes in the hands of the diocesan bishop the three evangelical counsels, confirmed by vow or other sacred bond, and observes a proper "program of living" (Rule of Life) under his direction.]] 

Note the word "proper" above. It is not a "Britishism"  like, [[Though he was from the US, John still knew how to brew a proper cuppa (tea)!!]] In the Church, we have Canon, or universal law, and Proper, or particular, law. A canonical (established and normative) religious congregation, for example, is bound by canon law; all such institutes are thus bound. At the same time, each institute has a separate document or documents representing its own proper law (constitutions, and statutes) which allows members to govern themselves according to their own unique qualities, mission, and charism. While an institute's constitutions are ultimately canonically approved by Rome or their diocese, for instance, they are specific to the institute and composed by the professed members. After all, they are the ones who have been called by God to embrace and live the universal elements in ways members of other congregations have not been.

Thus, in an analogous way, the hermit's Rule of Life represents her own "proper law"; it complements and specifies (applies in specific and proper ways) canon law in a solitary eremitical life. The canonical elements every hermit lives are listed prior to the term "program of life" These include the elements of paragraph #1 (stricter separation from the world, assiduous prayer and penance, the silence of solitude, a life lived for the salvation of the world, etc.), and commitment to the evangelical counsels, a Rule of Life lived under the bishop's supervision in paragraph #2. The "program of life" or "Rule" specifies the ways in which this hermit lives these elements in order to respond to God's uniquely personal and ecclesial call, and honors both the unity and the diversity of that vocation. Thus, canon 603 itself calls for a combination of universal and proper law allowing the hermit to tailor the terms of the canon in order to achieve the flexibility necessary to serve faithfulness to the vocation. This tailoring will not represent a mitigation of the terms of the canon, but rather, an exploration of their depths over time.

Bearing this in mind, we have the answer to both of your questions. First, the c 603 hermit writes her own Rule, she does not merely adopt a Rule written by someone else, because the Rule grows out of the values and praxis of eremitical life generally, but also out of her own relationship with God through her life and especially her life in the silence of solitude. The Rule must do justice to both of these dimensions! And second, a bishop supplying a ready-made Rule for hermits in his diocese actually has failed to take not only the terms of Canon 603 seriously enough, but the very vocation it codifies as well. (I wonder that a non-hermit bishop would even believe he could do such a thing.) By the way, this observation would also apply to a so-called Laura of hermits whose members fail to write their own Rules. Canon 603 is written for solitary hermits and requires that each one of us write our own.

All of this is the foundation for my comment in other articles that I thought the authors of Canon 603 had written well, perhaps better than they knew (though now I think they really knew exactly what they were doing!). All of this is also at the heart of why I find Canon 603 to be truly beautiful in the way it combines the constraints of law and the freedom of eremitical life. Finally, this combination of universal and proper law allows for an approach to the discernment and formation of such a vocation that relies on the gradual composition of a livable Rule rooted in the individual's lived experience and undertaken in collaboration with diocesan personnel and, if possible, the accompaniment of an experienced diocesan hermit. It takes time to "penetrate" the terms of the Canon and come to understand and live them deeply enough to see they are doors to the Mystery which is God and the hermit's relationship with God, not terms with a single fixed and infinitely more superficial meaning. Writing one's Rule is part of this process of "penetration" and a way one learns to be ever attentive to ongoing formation as well.

Solemnity of the Sacred Heart (Reprise)

Today we celebrate a feast that may seem at first glance to be irrelevant to contemporary life. The Feast of the Sacred Heart developed in part as a response to pre-destinationist theologies which diminished the universality of the gratuitous love of God and consigned many to perdition. But the Church's own theology of grace and freedom points directly to the reality of the human heart -- that center of the human person where God freely speaks himself and human beings respond in ways that are salvific for them and for the rest of the world. It asks us to see all persons as constituted in this way and called to life in and of God. Today's Feast of the Sacred Heart, then, despite the shift in context, asks us to reflect again on the nature of the human heart, to the greatest danger to spiritual or authentically human life the Scriptures identify, and too, on what a contemporary devotion to the Sacred Heart might mean for us.

As I have written here before, the heart is the symbol of the center of the human person. It is a theological term which points first of all to God and to God's activity deep within us. It is not so much that we have a heart and then God comes to dwell there; it is that where [and to the extent] God dwells within us and bears witness to himself, we have a heart. The human heart (not the cardiac muscle but the center of our personhood the Scriptures call heart) is a dialogical event where God speaks, calls, breathes, and sings us into existence and where, in one way and degree or another, we respond to become the people we are [and are called to be]. It is therefore important that our hearts be open and flexible, that they be obedient to the Voice and love of God, and so that they be responsive in all the ways they are summoned to be.

Bearing this in mind it is no surprise that the Scriptures speak in many places about the very worst thing which could befall a human being and her spiritual life. We hear it in the following line from Ezekiel: [[If today you hear [God's] voice, harden not your hearts.]] Many things contribute to such a reaction. We know that love is risky and that it always hurts. Sometimes this hurt is akin to the mystical experience of being pierced by God's love and is a wonderful but difficult experience. Sometimes it is the pain of compassion or empathy or grief. These are often bittersweet experiences, but they are also life-giving. Other times love wounds us in less fruitful ways: we are betrayed by friends or family, we reach out to another in love and are rejected, and a billion smaller losses wound us in ways from which we cannot seem to recover.

In such cases our hearts are not only wounded but become scarred, indurated, less sensitive to pain (or pleasure), stiff, and relatively inflexible. They, quite literally, become "hardened" and we may be fearful and unwilling or even unable to risk further injury. When the Scriptures speak of the "hardening" of our hearts they use the very words medicine uses to speak of the result of serious and prolonged wounding: induration, sclerosis, becoming calloused. Such hardening is self-protective but it also locks us into a world that makes us less capable of responding to love with all of its demands and riskiness. It makes us incapable of suffering well (patiently, fruitfully), or of real selflessness, generosity, or compassion.

It is here that the symbol of the Sacred Heart of Jesus' is instructive and where contemporary devotion to the Sacred Heart can assist us. The Sacred Heart is clearly the place where human and divine are united in a unique way. While we are not called to Daughterhood or to Sonship in the exact same sense of Jesus' (he is only "begotten" Son, we are adopted Sons --- and I use only Sons here because of the prophetic, countercultural sense that term had for women in the early Church along with its derivative nature --- whether male or female we are sharers in Jesus' own Sonship --- we are meant to be expressions of a similar unity and heritage; we are meant to have God as the well spring of life and love at the center of our existence.

Like the Sacred Heart our own hearts are meant to be "externalized" in a sense and (made) transparent to others. They are meant to be wounded by love and deeply touched by the pain of others but not scarred or indurated in that woundedness; they are meant to be compassionate hearts on fire with love and poured out for others --- hearts which are marked by the cross in all of its kenotic (self-emptying) dimensions and therefore too by the joy of ever-new life. The truly human heart is a reparative heart that heals the woundedness of others and empowers them to love as well. Such hearts are hearts that love as God loves, and therefore which do justice. I think that allowing our own hearts to be remade in this way represents an authentic devotion to Jesus' Sacred Heart. There is nothing lacking in relevance or contemporaneity in that! 

Special feastday wishes to all those who have opened their hearts to me throughout this year especially to all those Sisters of whatever congregation, but especially to Sisters Norma and Christine, who were my Sisters in the Franciscan Sisters of the Sacred Heart. We have gone different directions (Christine is still OSF) but I think we remain FSSH to one another in Spirit. 

We Do Not First Discern a call to Public Vows: Clarification

[[Sister, what did you mean when you said there's no such thing as a vocation to public vows. Don't you have a vocation to public vows?]]

Thanks for the question. I could definitely have been clearer, but I was trying to limit my description of the situation. Using myself as an example then, I can say I have an eremitical vocation. I needed to discern that first and only after that whether or not I was called to public profession, and even further in what eremitical context? For instance, I lived under private vows for a number of years and then discerned I was called not just to eremitical life, but to solitary eremitical life as an ecclesial vocation and therefore to canonical profession and consecration under c 603. The Church agreed with my own discernment and (eventually) Bishop Vigneron (a new bishop after the retirement of his predecessor) was clear he would not require me to jump through hoops I had already jumped through. After a wait of about a year and couple of months from our initial appointment, Bp Vigneron perpetually professed and consecrated me on 02.Sept. 2007. At that point, I had lived as a hermit for 23 years and was very sure of my vocation, first as a hermit and then, as someone called to live it as a public ecclesial vocation.

So, you see, my vocation includes (public) profession but it is not to (public) profession per se. My vocation is to solitary eremitical life and though in time I chose to seek admission to public vows/profession, I might have discerned it was meant for me to live this calling alone under private vows, or in a laura with significant solitude but supported by other hermits -- with either private or public vows. I might also have discerned a call to semi-eremitical life under public vows. What is clear is the fact that the vocation comes first and the mode of commitment is discerned second. In the situation I was describing the person seeking profession got the cart before the horse. S/he "discerned" s/he was called to make public vows and then looked for a context (including a new diocese) that would accept her where s/he might live those out.  

But of course, that is not the way one reaches the point of making vows. One needs a sense of being called to a specific vocation with a specific charism, and mission, before petitioning for admittance to even temporary profession. One must know oneself as suited and called by God to these before public vows even make sense. Again, with eremitical life one comes to know one's call in at least a general way, and only after (or alongside) this does one consider and prepare for the vows one will need in order to embrace this vocation fully and appropriately. The vows support and shape the vocation; in any case, they are not the vocation itself.

Thus, my complaint was twofold: 1) the person described had not discerned an eremitical call in any context (non-canonical, solitary, laura-based, semi-eremitical in a community of hermits, etc.) --- something which ordinarily takes years, and 2) s/he claimed a vocation to public vows, something that in and of itself, does not actually exist. There is clearly more to this complex story. Even so, the grounds enunciated above are the ones you asked me to explain about so I hope that part of the situation is clearer.

Questions re: Intervening in Cases of Fraudulent or Dishonest Profession

[[Dear Sister O'Neal, since you write about your concern with fraudulent hermits and associated issues, I wondered if you would interfere in an eremitical profession you thought was dishonest or fraudulent. Do you have that right? Have you ever done this?]]

Thanks, you have provided a difficult constellation of questions and also something of a leap from my admitted concern with such things. I will drop the term "interfere" from your first question and replace it with "connect with those responsible" or perhaps, "intervene in some appropriate way" in order to share one's concerns. 

That done, I need to say that any person with genuine knowledge directly impacting the nature and quality (and this can include even the validity) of a public profession has not just the right but the obligation to share that knowledge in an appropriate way. Moreover, bishops and others involved in overseeing such vocations have the obligation to hear and seriously consider these concerns. Public professions involve ecclesial vocations which affect the entire Church. They are also public acts of worship and if there is actual deception or fraud at their heart, such an act of worship can become a serious scandal and that can rise to the level of sacrilege. It can also invalidate the profession being made -- one source of the scandal involved. When we are dealing with Canon 603 professions where the total number of solitary canonical hermits are, relatively speaking, so very few and the vocation is both rare and even more rarely understood --- and also because dioceses are cautious in dealing with the implementation of C 603 anyway --- serious scandal can affect the credibility of the entire vocation. When this happens, genuine vocations to C 603 life are likely to be further prevented from being professed by the Church --- a kind of functional suppression of the solitary consecrated eremitical vocation.

What Steps does one take?

Depending upon the seriousness of the problem and one's own degree or kind of involvement and expertise, one may take a number of steps. The first will be prayer, and prayer will accompany any other steps one takes. If one has a relationship with the one being professed, one will generally contact them first to state one's concerns and allow a clarifying response. One will certainly confer confidentially with those in one's life who understand such concerns and can give feedback on how they would proceed (pastors, spiritual directors, religious in roles of formation or leadership, et al). In very serious cases, especially if any responses one has gotten from the persons involved are unsatisfactory, one might seek the advice of a canon lawyer to be sure one's assessment of seriousness is correct and to see what other steps one may need to consider taking.

Beyond this, one may decide one needs to write the bishop of the diocese in which the profession has taken or is to take place to inform him of one's concerns. Generally speaking, I think this is usually as far as one would take the situation because one trusts that the bishop knows more about the situation than one does oneself. However, sometimes writing the bishop, though usually essential, is insufficient; occasionally one's own knowledge may be greater than the bishop's or the situation is greater than this specific profession per se seems. In such cases, one may also be advised to contact the bishop's Metropolitan and even the US Nuncio as the direct US representative to/of the Vatican.

Being sure of Serious and even Grave Matters:

None of this should ever be done lightly, of course, and one needs to be really sure one understands the situation fully and has a good sense of the nature of the vocation one is concerned about. With c 603 there is a tendency already for some bishops and chanceries to say something like, [[Whom will it hurt?]] when deciding to profess non-hermits under c 603 because they tend not to understand eremitical life more generally, nor the significance of c 603 and what it witnesses to, more specifically. But because such professions do cause harm, including to the person seeking to be professed and assuming public responsibility in law for this vocation despite their not being called in this way by God, it may take someone living the vocation to clarify why such a profession is a mistake. I am not saying that such a profession is necessarily a mistake that rises to the level of scandal and beyond (ordinarily it may be rooted in simple ignorance), but this "whom does it harm?" approach does reflect a somewhat careless attitude about c 603 vocations which can allow for the stopgap use of the canon in much more seriously abusive situations as well.

It is in these more serious situations that I personally would probably contact the folks in authority with my concerns and knowledge. I not only believe I can do this, for several different reasons, but also that I am obligated to do this. The question in such an instance is how do I do this in a way which is most charitable and most educative re: the c 603 vocation --- and that is where the majority of the prayer accompanying the entire discernment process in such a matter comes in. I think one must accept that if one's intervention (letters, consultations, conversations, etc) prevent a profession under c 603 there will be significant pain for the person so affected and too, there will likely be personal pain and anguish for oneself as well. However, there is something larger than the individual proposing to make public vows involved here, namely the well-being of the vocation itself which is a Divine gift and the faith of the assembly/church, and one must accept that as well.

Once Again, "Whom does it Hurt?" 

At the same time, it must be made vividly clear that allowing someone to take on public responsibilities for a vocation they do not have is hardly charitable to them either. Doing so invites the person to live with the senses of failure, mediocrity, and hypocrisy all their days, something which is surely a cause of constant pain and doubt pervading everything they are and do. Eremitical life is not about relaxing day in and day out in some form of extended vacation; it is not entered into so that one may do one's painting or writing or pottery, or even research and scholarship, etc. Eremitical life is about the hard (but also painful and joyful) work of seeking God, being grasped by God, and allowing oneself to be remade in and by God in every moment and mood of one's life --- and doing so in the silence of solitude. Absolutely there will be some space and time for activities like those mentioned as well as some limited ministry in one's parish if one truly feels called to these, but these will, first of all, serve one's vocation to "the silence of solitude", not substitute for it. 

In fact, such activities will have to be relinquished or modified to some extent the moment they distract or detract from one's eremitical vocation of living "with God alone". In other words, even what one might perceive as meaningful and fruitful work contributing to the good of mankind would need to be relinquished if it conflicted with one's call to live with and for "God alone" in eremitical solitude!! Also, because we are all social creatures, most folks are called to personal wholeness and holiness in community, not in the silence of solitude. Very few are called to this (or will even understand it), and for that reason, for most people, such a calling would be dangerous to and destructive of their very personhood, their very selves. It is critical that all discernment of authentic solitary eremitical vocations recognizes this or the result of our professions will be fraudulent, inauthentic, mediocre, unhappy, possibly psychologically unbalanced, and disedifying "hermits" created by their professions to live the terms of c 603. Again, how could this be considered charitable or a truly pastoral decision on the part of a diocesan bishop?

Finally, let me say that someone attempting to be professed for a vocation they do not, in their heart of hearts, truly believe they have from God --- and here I mean the vocation itself, not the profession it allows or requires, the time and space it provides for various activities, as a means to some other end, and so forth, but the vocation itself --- says with their whole lives how little they esteem this vocation, those who truly do have it and frankly, the God who calls people in this way! I have been in contact with several people over the years who sought or considered seeking admission to

profession under c 603 as a means to some other end despite being very clear they did NOT believe God had called them to this. One, who thought s/he was called to "public vows" (there is no such vocation!) was willing to make profession and then live as a hermit "to see if it worked out." If not, s/he claimed s/he would walk away from it and try something else. 

But of course, this demeans the entire idea and nature of profession and certainly, all of the genuine discernment people do before ever being admitted to profession. It was offensive to anyone with a vocation to consecrated life. It was offensive to anyone charged with the ministries of discernment and formation. Moreover, it was offensive to the whole church which believes that God calls people --- recognizably and for God's own purposes --- to true vocations and that the church (hierarchy, representatives, and other leadership) must attend to these calls as seriously as God means them to. We have come a long way from the early days of Canon 603 and reflection on the vocation leaves us with no reason to treat it as a relatively insignificant or otherwise meaningless catch-all. We recognize the vocation is relatively rare, but perhaps too, that it is more meaningful for that very reason. In particular, this means that those in authority must not encourage, much less yield to the temptation to use C 603 as a stopgap means to profession simply because other vocational avenues are not open to a candidate.

A Contemplative Moment: On Behalf of the Renewal

"On Behalf of the Renewal"

from The Eremitic Life

by Cornelius Wencel, Er  Cam

If we want to live the eremitic life maturely and responsibly, so rich in the forms as it can be, we cannot aim at cultivating our own individual conceptions, projects, or ideas, nor at fulfilling our individual needs or tasks. Not in order to achieve his own perfection does the hermit set out on his solitary voyage. On the contrary, he considers his way and mission to be part of a great common effort to change and renew the cultural and spiritual life of humanity. Therefore, the eremitic life seems to be one of those underlying factors that really influence the social structures so that people can fruitfully work and multiply the common material and spiritual good. The hermit does not want -- and in fact is not even able --- to separate himself from the concrete experiences of modern people: from touching the toil, conflicts, and struggles they face. He takes part in all those experiences just because, through his existential meeting with Christ, he gains a new perspective and a new sensibility, and so he becomes more open to the problems of the modern world.

So, we can hardly take the hermit for a person who limits his entire mission to a few prayers he recites and to some daily routines necessary in everyday life. The hermit has to take into account all the difficult problems endangering the world today. But the hazards the modern world faces, which cause fear and can bring about a catastrophe of culture and civilization or even the total annihilation of mankind, do not paralyze his activity to improve the world. It is just the opposite: realizing how deeply he is rooted in the life of society and how greatly responsible he should be for the world and its future, the hermit wants to take part in coping with the difficulties and anxieties of today.

Of course, the hermit is much more a person of prayer than a person of activity, but he is far from neglecting any creative action toward changing the world for the better. When he undertakes a task, he does not aim at performing a great many actions for an immediate and striking effect. He is not an activist who lives on organizing neurotically different actions and events that are in fact inspired by his inner chaos and anxiety. The hermit strongly opposes misdirected work, which aspires only to achieve success, domination, prestige, and fame, and which can easily destroy other people's good.

There is nothing more foreign to the hermit than the clownery of a glittering career, success, and all those vulgar illusions that tempt the modern world. For the hermit, his work is one of elementary and daily activities, necessary for his own sanctification as well as sanctification of the world. . . .it is . . . a way of realizing his life's calling and approaching his life's fulfillment. Thus the hermit becomes a sign of protest against all the vulgar tendencies of modern civilization, which view work only in terms of productivity and money. Such a way of thinking, and consequently of acting, testifies to how much worldly affairs have degenerated and have gone far astray from what would be a humanitarian and harmonious course of events.

Feast of the Visitation (Reprise with Update)

Jump for Joy  by Eisbacher

Today's Gospel is wonderfully joy-filled and encouraging: Mary travels in haste to visit her kinswoman Elizabeth and both women benefit from the meeting which culminates in John's leaping in his mother's womb and prophetic speech by both women. The first of these is Elizabeth's proclamation that Mary is the Mother of Elizabeth's Lord and the second is Mary's canticle, the Magnificat. Ordinarily, homilists focus on Mary in this Gospel lection but I think the focus is at least as strongly on Elizabeth and also on the place the meeting of the two women has in allowing them both to negotiate the great mystery which has taken hold of their lives. Both are called on to offer God hospitality in unique ways; both are asked to participate in God's mysterious plan for his creation despite not wholly understanding this call and it is in their coming together that the trusting fiats they each made assume a greater clarity for them both.

Luke's two volumes (Luke-Acts) are actually full of instances where people come together and in their meeting or conversation with one another come to a fuller awareness of what God is doing in their lives. We see this on the road to Emmaus where disciples talk about the Scriptures in an attempt to come to terms with Jesus' scandalous death on a cross and the end of all their hopes. They are joined by another person who questions them about their conversation and grief. When they pause for a meal they recognize Jesus in the breaking of the bread and their entire world is turned on its head. That which was senseless is on its way to making a profound sense which will ground the existence of the church. Peter is struggling with the issue of eating with the uncircumcised; he comes together with Cornelius, a Centurion with real faith in Christ. In this meeting, Peter is confirmed in his sense that in light of Christ no foods are unclean, and eating with Gentiles is Eucharistic. There are a number of other such meetings where partial perception and clarity are enhanced or expanded. Even the Council of Jerusalem is a more developed instance of the same phenomenon.

On Spiritual Friendship, both formal and informal:

I personally love Eisenbacher's picture above because it reminds me of one privileged expression of such spiritual friendship, namely that of spiritual direction. I can remember many meetings with my own director where there was immense surprise and joy at the sharing involved, but one time in particular stands out --- especially in light of today's Gospel. I had experienced a shift in my experience of celibacy. Where once it mainly spoke to me of dimensions of my life that would never be fulfilled (motherhood, marriage, etc), through a particular prayer experience it had come to be associated instead with espousal to Christ and my own sense of being completed and fulfilled as a woman. 

As I recall, when I met with my director to share about this experience (c. 1983), I spoke softly about it, carefully, a little bashfully --- especially at first; but I also gained strength and greater confidence in the sharing of it. (I was not uncertain as to the nature of what I had experienced, but sharing it allowed it to claim me more completely and let me claim a new sense of myself in light of it.) My director listened carefully, and only then noted that she had always prayed for such a grace for all her novices (she had been novice director for her congregation); she then excused herself and left briefly. When she returned she had a CD and CD player with her. Together we sat quietly, but joyfully and even a bit tearfully celebrating what God had done for us while we listened to John Michael Talbot's Canticle of the Bride.

New This Year:

Pregnancy comes in different forms. Midwifery and even Motherhood do as well! As noted in an earlier post, this year today's feast is marked by a foundational shift of healing within my deepest self, and so too, a shift in my relationships with God, my own deepest self, my director, and many others. Six years ago this Friday I began an intense form of inner work with Sister Marietta and during the weeks between Easter and Pentecost, our work reached both a crisis and a climax leading to this shift. Both dimensions of this event required a struggle against death (that too comes in various forms) and full engagement with the coming of new life. It has taken several weeks to assess the depth and quality of the healing accomplished (a kind of counting the fingers and toes of the newly born), and now that we are certain of it, it is time to celebrate these last six years, the grace of God, all the hard work, struggle, faithfulness, and all the love --- it took us to get to this point. 

 

We will do this in several ways of course (including continuing our work together in a new key), but this next Saturday it means going out to share a meal together, not merely as accompanist and accompanied, or delegate and hermit, but as friends and companions on the journey shaped by the same values and similar commitments, similar grief and grace. Friendship (especially when it is shaped as Sisterhood in service to our God and his People) is a precious gift of God and one I hope never to take for granted! This year, on the Feast of the Sacred Heart (a special Feast for me anyway), I will also celebrate the admission to temporary vows under c 603 of one Sister I have been working with from the UK. With her bishop's approval, we will continue working together to prepare for her perpetual profession in three years' time. Pregnancy comes in different forms; so do mothering and midwifery. Last year I shared the following poem to mark the year's work and the relationships that made it possible. This year it is even more profoundly true. Thanks be to God!

As Mary faced

        her unexpected future

And hastened to Elizabeth,

        who was similarly expecting,

and shared with her

her hopes,

 her dreams,

  her concerns,

  her fears;

spoke frankly as sisters

 about their love of God,

   about their future,

  about  their commitment

  to God's mission,

  so we two come together today,

   speaking the truth

   in love and faith,

   and God is with us.

Summary:

 

Elizabeth and Mary come together as women both touched in significant ways by the mystery of God. They have trusted God but are not yet completely clear regarding the greater mystery or how this experience fits into the larger story of Israel's redemption. They are both in need of one another and especially of the perception and wisdom the other can bring to the situation so that they can truly offer God and God's plan all the space and time these require. Hospitality, especially giving God hospitality, takes many forms, but one of the most important involves coming together to share how God is active in our lives in the hope of coming to a greater and more life-giving perspective, faith, and commitment. It is in coming together in this way that we clarify, encourage, challenge, and console one another. It is in coming together in this way that we become the prophetic presence in our world God calls us to be.  The gift of being able to "speak frankly" as sisters (and brothers) is an inestimable gift of God. Let us all be open to serving as friends to one another in this sense. It is an essential dimension of being Church and of the coming of the Kingdom of God.

On Love, Healing, Deep Happiness and Classical Gas!!

There are times when we need to celebrate and find ways to simply say how truly and deeply happy we are. This Easter season up to Pentecost has been one I need to celebrate especially because it brought significant healing. (More about this later; I am not ready to blog about it yet -- nor do I know if it will ever really be "right" or helpful to others to share this.) At today's Mass I was caught up by the affirmation, [[only say the Word and my soul will be healed]] and was struck afresh by the deep happiness God's healing has occasioned in me. The above piece --- something I once played myself on both guitar and violin --- says "deep happiness", along with memories from all through my life as God touched and called, consoled, challenged, and healed. Praise God!!! With Classical Gas I can share now a little of the feeling and profound energy of deep happiness, so I hope you love it as much as I do. 

On Inner Work and becoming Transparent to God (Reprise with Introduction)

I got repeated questions this week on the inner work I speak of so I decided to put the following piece from not quite a year ago up again. Behind it is the approach to growth work known as PRH (Personality and human relationships). What is essential to PRH is the recognition that human beings are wounded in relationship, and heal and grow in the same way. While it may sound strange to hear a hermit participating in such inner or growth work given this focus, much less depending on it as a key to growing in the silence of solitude, eremitical hiddenness, etc., I assure you it is not! For more on this inner or growth work I speak of, please see other posts with the same labels as this post.  Anyway, on to the post:

Sister, when you write about stricter separation from the world does the inner work you have been doing have a place in it? As I read your last post entitled, "Why isn't it enough?" I thought I got, just for a moment, a glimpse of why that would be important not only so you could live as a hermit, but also as an integral part of the eremitical life. This glimpse came and went in a flash so I can't say more about what I mean but maybe you know just what I am trying to say here. I know you have been criticized by readers in the past for needing to do such work and that you wrote it was integral to your vocation. I think re-reading your last post helped me understand this a little better because I saw you, and myself, and everyone else as having been distorted by the world and needing to do the inner work you speak of to become more clearly ourselves. That was the glimpse I got while reading what you were saying. I don't know if this is something you could write about, but my question is do I have this right? Does the inner work you speak of allow you to become "transparent to God" (your phrase) as you become more truly yourself?

Thanks for your questions. Yes, I definitely think you got it!!! The post you referred to re criticism of my own engagement in what I call "inner work" is found here: On Justifying Inner Work and it contains other links to related articles. It was also prompted by my discovery that the inner work I had been doing for a couple of years at that point might have shown me I had made a mistake in my discernment of an eremitical vocation; instead, it affirmed this vocation again and again. And regarding your second question, YES!!! Absolutely, the inner work is part of what allows me to become transparent to God as I become more truly myself. This transparency to God is the very nature of what it means to be truly human, so the more truly human I become, the more transparent to God. 

We speak about this phenomenon of transparency in a number of ways. The main ones affirm us as imago dei, and incarnations of the Word of God -- especially to the extent we live in light of and through Christ!! I believe the story of Jesus' Transfiguration is a story of his (eventually!!) perceived transparency to God by the chosen disciples. Recently Sister Susan gave me a mirror medallion developed by Richard Rohr. I believe that this too reflected (no pun intended) the notion of becoming transparent to God. It also reminds us that others are, to varying degrees, also transparent to God. The side of the mirror medallion facing one's own heart/self has a symbol of the Trinity on it; it represents the gaze of God and the way God sees us at every moment; the side facing outward is a plain mirror reflecting everything as it is without distortion or judgment. Rohr had experienced the Trinity as a dynamic reality moving through him --- in and out. This experience developed into a practice of receiving beauty and breathing it back out to others. I recognize it as a symbol of transparency to God and to being the imago dei to others, one who sees as God sees and also one who is seen as God sees.

Transparency is something that happens, something we become as more and more we become persons who allow the presence of God to be mediated through and in us. Transparency is a means of revelation, but also of standing truly and honestly as our deepest selves. God seeks to reveal Godself at every moment and mood of our lives and in many ways, we occlude or distort that revelation. Part of all of that "occlusion" comes from our own woundedness and the resulting fear of allowing God (and sometimes, anyone at all) to love us and fill us with God's life and light. Sometimes we have lost so much in trying to be open and trust or love that we cling tightly to the superficial image of who we truly are, even when that "self" is but an echo of who we once were and a shadow of who we are truly called to be. Letting go to allow something so marked by newness, dynamism (change!!), and Mystery, is simply terrifying. And so, when people look at us, they mainly see echoes and shadows, scars, woundedness, and diminishment because that is all we feel free enough to allow ourselves to reveal.

Pope Francis Says Vespers with the
Camaldolese Nuns and Monks in Rome

Sometimes our failure to allow the transparency and revelation God yearns for with each of us comes from other forms of rigidity and arrogance. We believe we know who God is because we were taught about who God is in religion or theology classes. We take refuge in formulae and rituals which at least as easily distance us from the real God as they draw us closer. We have learned these things, sometimes with great effort, and we feel safe with them where the "living God" is more Mysterious and awesome (terrifying) even while he is also intriguing to us (mysterium tremendum et fascinans); they are therefore hard to let go of and can occlude the revelation of the living God we are meant to become. It is the "inner work" I have written about several times now that allows the necessary healing and strengthening of ourselves so that we can live from our deepest potential and love as we are meant to love.

Because God is the source of the potential I am speaking of, and we are the persons who are created as we listen to and respond to that source, we are never ourselves alone (except to the extent we are sinners or impaired by the sin that has touched us) because God is a constituent dimension of who we are. The more truly ourselves we become, the more clearly and truly present God becomes within us. We become more and more transparent to the God who is, as Tillich put the matter, the ground and source of our being. God is not alien to us, nor is God some sort of weird or supernatural parasite within us. When we speak of God dwelling within us, we are speaking of something that is most deeply and truly an essential or fundamental part of ourselves. We cannot be "us" (or even alive at all) without this presence and the opposite is also true: the more we become our truest selves, the clearer and stronger this presence within us becomes. We are truly ourselves, truly holy and truly human when people look at us and see God in everything we are and do. This is what revelation is about and it is what transparency is about. 

The inner work I and others do and that I write about here, allows this to be realized in our lives and all we touch!! It allows us to be healed of all of those forms of woundedness that cripple or otherwise limit us and it opens us to the deepest potential that is ours so that we can live from that for the sake of others. Once I thought of this work as something I could do and finish with so that I could live my vocation as I am called to do. Now I understand that this inner work is part of the "asceticism" or even "penance" that necessarily accompanies my prayer and is essential to my vocation. In other words, I will not finish it -- though I will move through different stages of this work at various times throughout my life; instead, I will continue doing it as a foundational practice because in conjunction with prayer, as you say, it is essential to my vocation and does indeed allow me to become transparent to God ---  which is the essence of eremitical hiddenness, and the goal of my call to holiness and creation as imago dei.

What Do You Like Most about Eremitical Life? (Updated)

I was asked the following question again this last week and rather than trying to answer it again and anew, I am reprising the original answer from 8 years ago and adding one more paragraph to update it. 

[[Hi Sister Laurel, I wondered if you could explain what you like best about the eremitical life? Since you don't do a lot of active ministry that would provide variety, I am assuming that is not a favorite part, so what is? Maybe this is not the best way to ask the question. I guess I am really wondering what part of your life is most enriching or what part you look forward to every day especially if every day is the same because of your schedule. I hope you can understand what I am asking here. Thank you.]]

Now that is a challenging question! It is not challenging because I don't know what I look forward to each day or really like, but because there is no one thing I like best. I guess saying that out loud gives me the key to answering your question then.  What I like best about eremitical life is the way I can relate to God and grow in, with, and through him in this vocation. This is also a way of saying I like the way this vocation allows me to serve the Church and world despite or even through the limitations I also experience. Each of the elements of my life helps in this and some days I like one thing more than another but still, that is because each one contributes to my encounter with God --- usually in the depths of my own heart --- in different ways, to different degrees, on different days.

So, on most days I love the silence and solitude and especially I love quiet prayer periods or more spontaneous times of contemplative prayer which intensify these and transform them into the silence of solitude --- where I simply rest in God's presence or, in the image I have used most recently, rest in God's gaze. It is here that I come to know myself as God knows me and thus am allowed to transcend the world's categories, questions, or judgments. Sometimes these periods are like the one prayer experience I have described here in the past. But whether or not this is true, these periods are ordinarily surprising, or at least never the same; they are transformative and re-creative even when it takes reflective time to realize that this has been happening.

Another thing that I do each day which is usually something I really love is Scripture, whether I do that as part of lectio or as a resource for study or writing. Engagement with Scripture is one of the "wildest rides" I can point to in my life. It is demanding, challenging, and often exhilarating. Sometimes it doesn't speak to me in any immediately dramatic way. But it works on my heart like water on something relatively impervious --- gradually, insistently, and inevitably. Other times, for instance when reading Jesus' parables or other's stories about Jesus, or even the theological reflection of John and Paul, I have the sense that I am being touched by a "living word" and brought into a different world or Kingdom in this way. It always draws me in more deeply and even when I have heard a story or passage thousands of times before something speaks to me on some level in a new way, leads to a new way of understanding reality, or shows me something I had never seen before.

A third piece of this life I love and look forward to is the writing I do. Some of this is specifically theological and there is no doubt that my grappling with Scripture is important for driving at least some of my writing. Whether the writing is the journaling I do for personal growth work, the blogging I do which, in its better moments is an exploration of canon 603 and its importance, a reflection on Scriptures I have been spending time with, or the pieces which can be labeled "spirituality," they tend to be articulations of what happens in prayer and in my own engagement with Christ. One topic I spend time on, of course, is reflection on the place of eremitical life under canon 603 in the life of the Church herself. Since I am especially interested in the possibility of treating chronic illness as a vocation to proclaim with one's life the Gospel of Jesus Christ with a special vividness, and since I have come to understand eremitical solitude as a communal or dialogical reality which is especially suited to the transfiguration of the isolation associated with chronic illness, etc, I write a lot about canon 603 and the solitary eremitical vocation.

A second area of theology I return to again and again is the theology of the Cross. I remember that when I first met with Archbishop (then Bishop) Allen Vigneron he asked me a conversation-starter kind of question about my favorite saint. I spoke about Saint Paul (wondering if perhaps I shouldn't have chosen someone who was not also an Apostle --- someone like St Benedict or St Romuald or St John of the Cross) and began to talk about his theology of the cross.  I explained that if I could spend the rest of my life trying to or coming to understand his theology of the cross I would be a happy camper. (I have always wondered what Archbishop Vigneron made of this unexpected answer!)

I saw incredible paradoxes and amazing beauty in the symmetries and strangely compelling asymmetries of the cross and I still discover dimensions I had not seen. Most recently one of these was the honor/shame dialectic and the paradox of the glory of God revealed in the deepest shame imaginable. I have written previously about God being found in the unexpected and even the unacceptable place. This paradox is a deepening of that insight. The Cross is the Event which reveals the source even as it functions as the criterion of all the theology we have that is truly capable of redeeming people's lives. It is the ultimate source of the recent theology I did on humility as being lifted up to be seen as God sees us beyond any notions of worthiness or unworthiness. My life as a hermit allows me to stay focused on the cross in innumerable ways, not only intellectually (reading and thinking about this theology), but personally, spiritually, and emotionally. That is an incredible gift which the Church --- via the person of Archbishop Vigneron and the Diocese of Oakland --- has given me in professing and consecrating me as a diocesan hermit.

There are other things I love about eremitical life (not least the limited but still significant (meaningful) presence and ministry in my parish (or in other dioceses and faith communities); today I continue to teach Scripture and it colors everything else I do, whether in cell or outside it); both teaching and spiritual direction (including work with candidates for c 603 profession) are also related in one way and another to the person I am in light of living contemplatively within the Divine dialogue I know as the silence of solitude. One of the things which is especially important to me is the freedom I have to live my life as I discern God wills (cf added paragraph below).

Whether I am sick or well, able to keep strictly to a schedule or not, I have the sense that I live this life by the grace of God and that God is present with me in all of the day's moments and moods. It doesn't matter so much if writing goes well or ill, if prayer seems profound or not, if the day is tedious or exciting, all of it is inspired, all of it is what I am called to and I am not alone in it. This means that it is meaningful and even that it glorifies God. I try to live it well, of course, and I both fail and succeed in that, but I suppose what I love best is that it is indeed what I am called to live in and through Christ. It is the way of life that allows me to most be myself in spite of the things that militate against that; moreover it is the thing which allows me to speak of my life in terms of a sense of mission.  The difficulty in pointing to any one thing I most like about eremitical life is that, even if in the short term they cause difficulty, struggle, tedium, etc., all of the things that constitute it make me profoundly happy and at peace. I think God is genuinely praised and glorified when this is true.

Sister Marietta Fahey, SHF

I want to add one more paragraph to this piece that was first published in 2015. On June 2nd, I begin the 8th year of a relatively intense kind of personal formation and growth work (PRH) with my Director. Spiritual direction was always important to me, but this particular kind of work was not. I resisted it and though it was written into my Rule because I recognized something of its importance, I struggled to value it appropriately. Today, I need to note that, for the purposes of living this life well and coming to love the work itself, a very big shift has taken place. I now associate the freedom of the eremitical life with the freedom to do and benefit from this kind of work. It is central to my vocation. Every day it is a means by which God works in my life to heal and strengthen, to challenge, console, and just generally to call me to wholeness and holiness in Christ. There is no other part of my life as a hermit that this work does not touch or qualify toward greater depth and maturity. It is part of my prayer, my penance, and is absolutely necessary for achieving the silence of solitude I recognize as the goal and charism of this life; daily it schools me to obedience, to becoming truly attentive and responsive in a contemplative key. It is central to my encounters with God and my own deepest Self every single day. Days on which I meet with my director are especially graced --- even when they are particularly difficult, painful, grief-filled or joy-filled and triumphant (and sometimes they are all of these during the same session)! All of this leads me more and more into the inner reality of the silence of solitude and the communal life of the Trinity that are the goal and gift of eremitical life.

I hope this gives you something of an answer to your question. I have kind of worked my way through to an actual answer --- from the individual pieces of the life that are most life-giving to me to the reasons this life as a whole is something I love. I hope I have managed to convey that even when the schedule is the same day to day, the content is never really the same because at the heart of it is a relationship with the living and inexhaustible God. Your question focuses on the absence of variety and in some ways, the absence of novelty (neos). But really there is always newness rooted in the deeper, qualitative newness (kainotes) of God and of who I am called to be in God.

To catch a glimpse of what I mean by that, imagine plunging into the ocean at different points within a large circle. The surface looks the same from point to point but the world one enters in each dive is vastly different and differently compelling from place to place. So, following the same daily horarium (schedule), I sit in the same chair (or use the same prayer bench/zafu) to pray; I work at the same desk day in and day out. I open the same book of Scriptures and often read the same stories again and again or pray the same psalms, and so forth. I rise at the same hour each day, pray at essentially the same times, eat the same meals at the same hours, wear the same habit and prayer garment, make the same gestures and generally do the same things day after day. There is variation when I am ill or need to leave the hermitage, but in the main, it is a life of routine and sometimes even tedium. What is important to remember is that the eremitical life is really about what happens below the surface as one is empowered to open oneself to God, and allow (him) to become God-With-Us, even as (he) makes of us a new Creation. This really is where the action is, so to speak! It is the reason the classic admonition of the Desert Fathers, "Dwell (remain) in your cell and your cell will teach you everything," can be true and the only reason "custody of the cell" is such a high value in eremitical life or stability of place such a similarly high value in monasticism.