Eremitical Poverty and the Diocesan Hermit

I was recently asked how the eremitical vow of poverty worked for a diocesan hermit. Specifically, the question ran as follows:

[[I was wondering if you would blog about how hermits live out their vow of poverty, particularly with regard to their cession of the administration of property and how the hermit handles immediate financial needs and other requirements of life. This situation appears to be an oxymoron. I would greatly appreciate your insight.]]

The issue of cession of administration is not a central one in the grand scheme of eremitical poverty because not every diocese requires this of her diocesan hermits. On the other hand every hermit DOES vow religious or evangelical poverty and writes a Rule of Life which covers that. Unfortunately, while I can say a little about cession of administration, I cannot do so from a first hand perspective (at least not as a hermit) since my diocese did NOT require this of me.

Let me say up front that I don't understand how cession of administration works for individual or solitary hermits and I have asked a canonist for additional information on this. Generally it works better (as far as I can see) for hermits who are part of an Order/Congregation and who are in simple vows preparing for Solemn profession when they will give up all rights to ownership or acquiring of property. These hermits do not have the same requirements or responsibilities as diocesan hermits do re support of self, financial independence, etc, so the cession of administration while in simple vows makes more sense. It frees up the hermit for a life of contemplation, in a way which is optimal even while it allows for the possibility of leaving the congregation before solemn or definitive vows and makes sure the hermit will have property to return to to allow life outside the congregation should that be necessary.

However, for those really wishing more information on this than I can provide, I would suggest they contact the Vicar for Religious (or Consecrated Life) of Diocese of La Crosse (for instance), which I believe DOES require a document formalizing the cession of administration/usufruct of goods and property of its diocesan hermits. If you are a candidate for Canon 603 profession and are being asked to do this by your own diocese, contact the canonist there for more information and discuss the matter. When I have more information myself I will add that here or in a new post.

That said, I believe the questioner has put her finger on a practice which seems to me like a bit of a legal (and spiritual) shell-game when applied to diocesan hermits with perpetual vows. I personally see a conflict between requiring cession of administration and the requirement that the diocesan hermit be self-supporting and financially independent of the diocese. Neither do I personally understand how ceding the administration of property and yet retaining the use of it (again assuming one is a perpetually professed hermit) actually assists one to live out poverty in a responsible way. One has not really divested oneself of the property (it is really still one's own as far as I understand the situation) and one can fool oneself into thinking one is living poverty simply because one is merely "using" this property, etc.

On the other hand (trying to be evenhanded here), I can see how this could conceivably inhibit a hermit from acquiring more property and contribute to a careful use of what is at her disposal, and if it does this as well as remind the hermit that she is, in some ways, merely using or even "borrowing" what she needs and nothing more, such a practice could well contribute to her genuine practice of poverty.

The larger question posed by the questioner is how a diocesan hermit lives eremitical poverty despite being responsible for immediate financial needs and so forth. The answer is, I believe, that poverty must be understood in a way which makes trust in and dependence upon God primary and a correlative simplicity of life and relative financial poverty (NOT destitution!) a constant goal and context for who one is. I think that is true with regard to cession of administration of property for it MAY invite a person to depend upon and trust in God alone. What is most basic to eremitical poverty is always openness to and dependence upon God as the sole source of life and meaning. Any acquisitiveness which detracts from this is something the hermit deals with as it comes up.

However, acquisitiveness aside, the diocesan hermit is responsible for her own income, rent, insurance (including medical insurance), transportation expenses, food, utilities, annual or bi-annual retreat, library and media, education (ongoing formation including professional and other continuing education is indispensable), spiritual direction, religious goods and supplies, clothes, computer and internet hookup (if she requires these), taxes, and burial expenses, etc. The diocese is responsible for NONE of these (some dioceses will include a hermit under their diocesan insurance I have heard, but it is not usual and not something one can count on), so religious poverty for the diocesan hermit means being very clear regarding what is essential in light of the above constraints and requirements. Remember that there are many expressions of religious poverty (Franciscan differs from Benedictine differs from Carmelite, etc). The hermit is responsible for deciding which of these best fits her circumstances, writing that into her Rule (which is then approved by her Bishop) and then living it out ever more fully and responsibly.

I begin (and end!) my own approach to and vow of poverty with humble (truthful and loving) dependence on God because I think it is the heart of religious poverty. For me the whole attitude and reality of this kind of poverty is summed up in Paul's statement in 2 Corinthians, "My grace is sufficient for you; my power is perfected in weakness." Religious and human poverty is the counterpart of divine grace. After all, one may live frugally or even in financially impoverished circumstances and not be living religious poverty because one is not essentially dependent upon God as the sole source of life, meaning, and validation. One does (or at least may) not allow one's innate poverty and weakness to be the counterpart of divine grace. When one begins with material poverty, this may or may not lead one to the necessary poverty of spirit the evangelical counsel requires.

I also find that once one begins to pay attention first of all to dependence upon God, and to being honest and transparent regarding our own essential and undeniable human weakness and poverty, the financial/material part of things falls into place and one simply needs less and less. (When expenses start to increase for some reason, for instance, it is a good time to look at the poverty of spirit side of things as well because the material part of eremitical poverty is affected directly by the existential or poverty of spirit part -- often more than economic inflation and other factors bring about!) Many hermits also make a yearly accounting of expenses for their Bishop and this too assists them to be careful and responsible in such matters. The two prongs of the vow of poverty, and of the life of poverty (poverty of spirit and economic and material poverty and simplicity) mutually influence one another so one needs to take care of both of them.

I realize this is a very general answer, and that perhaps the questioner had more specific things in mind. If so, I hope she will get back to me on this.

Once again TCW vs MCW and Eremitical Life: A Question on the Division into Temporal and Mystical Catholic Worlds

Sister, I read the following recently and wonder if you would comment on it? To be frank, I am bothered by this division of the hermit life into two different worlds with one called mystical and the other temporal. I think it is especially wrong to insist that one interfaces with the temporal world and the other does not, or that one is devoted to contemplation and a total love of God while the other is not. That is even more true when the so-called "TCW" [the Temporal Catholic World] is linked to canonical status while the other, the "MCW" [the Mystical Catholic World] hermit is approved by God and that this is said to be an approval which is unknown to the "TCW hermit."

[[So what hermits ought consider in discerning their vocation, is if he or she is called by God to be a temporal Catholic world hermit or a mystical Catholic world hermit. The former would lend itself better in governance of temporal Catholic world matters, inclusive of canonical approvals, regulations and observance to prevent vocation abuses, and active involvement in such world venues as the internet, public speaking, published writings, known identity, and temporal Catholic world church work.

The latter, the mystical Catholic world hermit, would lend itself better, solely to attendance upon God (the Most Holy Trinity). This would involve an increasing affinity to contemplation and worship of the divine, with accompanying self-annihilation to less and less...to nothing. The approval for and of the mystical Catholic world hermit is nothing known to the TCW; it is a credibility and approval of a mystical nature, and thus is nothing necessary at all. What is necessary for the MCW hermit is to be in full attendance upon God, spiraling by degrees in servitude, knowledge and love of God.

While each hermit is called by God to his or her vocation, there is also a choosing that occurs--TCW or MCW hermit. God chooses, and the hermit chooses what God chooses. It takes some prayer and discernment, with the help of the hermit's confessor and spiritual director, the hermit's bishop, also--to know for sure, what God wills. Then the hermit must make necessary choices in response.]]

Dear poster,
I have written about a piece of this passage before and with regard to a question that was a lot like yours as I recall, so let me first refer you to that post. It is dated February 6, 2009 and the second half of the title and the article refer to this division between temporal and mystical Catholic Worlds. For that reason I will try not to repeat everything I said there, but also to expand on it somewhat in a couple of places. In fact, as I think about it, I may have written more than one post regarding this matter in the same approximate time frame, so please check through the posts from at least a week before and a week after Feb 6, 2009 as well. First though, I have read the post you refer to and I also find the division you refer to problematical in the extreme. Eremitical life is ALWAYS 1) temporal, 2) oriented towards God alone, and 3) simultaneously and paradoxically communal or ecclesial. Let me try to say more about the paradox involved here because I don't believe I said much about that in my earlier posts.

If one is genuinely contemplative, and even if one is and/or calls oneself a mystic, the eremitical life is defined as one whose raison d'etre is in part the praise or glorification of God and in part the salvation of the world. For this reason, in one way and another it involves engagement with and on behalf of the temporal world. That engagement may "merely" be the contemplative prayer itself --- but such prayer is never a "just me and God" matter even though it involves experiences which highlight that dimension of reality, and even though no one else is bodily present in the cell or even consciously in the hermit's awareness. There is, this side of death, probably no purer experience of "God alone" or "God and me alone" as occurs in some contemplative prayer and the eremitical cell, but in my experience such prayer ALWAYS ALSO involves an awareness that while one dances with God (or whatever other images or experiences may be involved --- if any!), he is loving everyone else as completely and holding them as securely as he is oneself at that moment -- and one is glad, even delighted that that is the case! Further, one is aware that one is loved for oneself, of course, but that that love is meant to be shared with the world in whatever way the hermit feels called to do.

Even if one is a complete recluse one KNOWS that the transformation of oneself that occurs in prayer works as leaven in the world and transforms it as well. One knows that one's prayer is a doorway through which God is allowed to enter and become personally present in a way which transcends just this moment or just this small space. One knows that one is part of the Body of Christ and that, as it says in Ephesians, it is in the perfection of this Body that (we become) Christ come to full stature. Even when one prays "alone" in her cell, Church, world and God meet there within one and through one. This ceases to be mere abstraction when we consider the specific people we each carry within our hearts each time we pray. We are never without them, for in part they make us who we are. Consider all the people who have called us in one way and another to be, who have loved us, or in fact who have not; we carry them all within us in our memories and oftentimes deeper even than that; they are part of us. Beyond this group of people, ALL are grounded in God, and ALL are present in Him as well. To be truly in Communion with God, truly oriented towards him alone, is to be oriented towards and with all he cherishes and sustains as well. It is to be related to and concerned with the entire Communion of Saints and all those called to join this Communion. We are never less alone than when we are at prayer, and this is at least as true of contemplative or mystical prayer as it is of liturgical and other forms of prayer.


As far as divisions and approvals go, it is important to remember the Catholic theology of vocation. In Baptism we are each called to the lay state and within that state there are many significant vocations or callings. They have in common that they are callings to the lay life, but they may vary considerably otherwise. One vocation the Church recognizes today is that of lay hermit. The characteristics of the lay hermit are, in most ways, the same as those of the diocesan or religious hermit: it is a call to a life of assiduous prayer and penance, the silence of solitude, and stricter separation from the world. One may be a mystic and one WILL be a contemplative, but one will be these things as a member of the lay state. Because of this, one's eremitism will speak most clearly (but not only!) to others in the lay state. Beyond this (different but not better!) one may discover one is called to the consecrated state or to the ordained state. In either of these one may also be called to eremitical life. If one is called to the consecrated eremitical state one will make public profession and be consecrated publicly as well. One will assume a different set of responsibilities and rights in so doing, including public responsibility for the vowed eremitical life. One becomes a public representative of the whole long history of this form of response to the Gospel, and also, for working out and living publicly (even in hiddenness!) the significance and appropriate expressions of this form of life in the 21st (etc) Century.

Approval here, or rather admission to public profession and consecration, as I have written a number of times already, means admission to an ecclesial vocation. That is, it means that vocation is not discerned by the individual alone, nor is the vocation per se (the call by God) itself something extended to the individual ONLY in the privacy of her own heart --- though it will be heard there first and continually. By no means, as was at least implied by the passage you questioned, is canonical standing a merely a matter of preventing abuses in the vocation, nor does one require (much less will she be admitted to) canonical standing merely as a matter of living the vocation "safely"! Instead, God's own call is mediated fully to the person through the official Church. Responsibility for this expression of eremitical life is an ecclesial and public matter and because of this the call MUST come as something which, while a further specification of a Baptismal commitment, approaches the quality of "second baptism" and is extended publicly to the individual through the Church in a formal and official way so as to achive a stable state of life. One cannot be said to HAVE such a vocation unless and until the Church admits to profession and mediates God's own consecration of the person in a public liturgical act. One may be moving towards it, and one may even yearn for it in some way because of the anticipatory nature of the call one has truly already heard, but one cannot be said to "have" it fully apart from the Church's own mediation of it.

This is one of the reasons profession and consecration are such watershed moments for the diocesan hermit (or, for that matter, for religious or consecrated virgins). The vocation the diocesan hermit hears THROUGH and AFTER these events continues to be heard and it continues to be the same call in many ways, but now with different overtones and nuances she never expected prior to perpetual profession and consecration. She is a different person responsible for what is in many ways a DIFFERENT call she may have sensed vestigially as the incompleteness of the baptismal call she had heard in her heart and already answered with her life. Only now she begins to move from chaffing at incompleteness, or struggling to articulate some degree of dissatisfaction and unfreedom, to exploring the depths and implications of her new state and her new vocation. She is still a hermit and no more nor less a real hermit than the lay hermit, but now she is diocesan with all that entails and implies. Her experience of her call and her response to that call is PERSONALLY fuller because the call itself is different and SUBJECTIVELY fuller despite being anticipated in many ways during her life as a lay hermit.

God ALSO calls the Lay hermit, but not in the same way because the rights and responsibilities associated with that call are not the same as those associated with consecrated eremitical life. Thus, canonical standing does not represent merely the human approval of a vocation, nor does the diocesan hermit seek canonical standing because she yearns for human ("Temporal Catholic World") approval. It especially does not represent an individual's vain desire to be distinguished by title or garb! Instead title and garb represent/symbolize the rights and responsibilities assumed by THIS hermit via the mediation of Church authority and Divine Call. What the diocesan hermit yearns for is an eremitical vocation that is not the same as that of the lay or the religious hermit. She personally requires canonical standing because she simply is not called to this vocation apart from the Church's own mediation of the call, and because she finds after living lay eremitical life for some time, that she is simply not free to live out the vocation experienced in her heart as fully as she senses she might without what is mediated to her by the Church --- not because lay eremitical life lacks OBJECTIVE fullness (it does not), but, despite the essential similarities, because again it is actually different than consecrated eremitical life with different expectations and responsibilities. (Again, I have written about this before so please find posts referring to either the unique charism of the diocesan hermit or to those which refer to the expectations people have a necessary right to in regard to the diocesan hermit.)


The Church's own divisions and theology is far more adequate than the division into TCW and MCW. That is especially true when all eremitical vocations, no matter how mystical are temporal, and when all temporal vocations are meant to be touched by some degree of mystical prayer as well. Certainly the incarnation does not suggest that temporal involvement is to be separated from mystical orientation or experience. Nor do the Gospels. Luke's version could not be clearer that Jesus was both mystic and minister, and further than his ministry flowed from and was supported at every turn by his mysticism. The same is true of Paul who was indefatigable in his ministry on behalf of the Gospel, but who was known for his mystical experiences and prayer life. To divvy reality up into the mystical and the temporal Catholic Worlds and to associate canonical standing and consecration with the Temporal World is to dishonor the truth of the incarnation, as well as to repudiate the Church's own theology of ecclesial vocations. It (at least in the passage you quoted) also suggests therefore that those who seek admission to public profession and the consecrated state are not real contemplatives or mystics, do not love God sufficiently or seek to grow in that love, desire human approval and esteem and are dissatisfied with God's, and do not seek admission to profession and consecration because their very vocations as hermits demand it. Unfortunately, to cast the quest for canonical standing in these terms is either extremely and unfairly cynical, or it is simply ignorant of what motivates most diocesan hermits in what is often quite a long and difficult process.

I probably went on a bit more than you desired with your comments. I hope at least I was clear and addressed your concerns. However, if I did not, or if my comments raised further questions, I hope you will get back to me. Again, please read other posts on the topic of unique charism, etc and see if I have not already answered those questions or made things clearer though.

The Good Soil of Humility

I was struck today by the Gospel for ordinary time and the possibility of the Word of God taking such root within us that it would produce a fruitful harvest in an almost unthinkable range. We all know the parable: a sower goes out to sow in the Palestinian countryside --- a harsh and difficult territory for farmers --- and therefore sows seed all around, hoping to maximize his return. Some seed falls on rocky ground, some on a pathway where it was immediately eaten by birds, some on ground choked with thorns, while some is snatched away by "the evil one," and some falls on good soil. The seed which falls on rocky ground where there is little soil springs up quickly but dies in the sun because there are no real roots to hold and nourish it; the shoots from the seed which fell among thistles is choked out by the stronger, more rapacious plants. But the seed which fell on good soil grew well and produced a rich harvest of 30, 60, or even a hundredfold (an amount the Palestinan farmers would have found unimaginable).

Jesus goes on to explain to his disciples who are troubled and perplexed by the fact that he is always speaking to others in parables (they want something more straightforward, something more informative than formative I think!), that the seed is the Word of God and the various soils represent various kinds of hearers, one whose hearing of the Word causes immediate joy, but because the Word strikes no root in him, has no staying power. When troubles come on account of the Word he falls away at once. Another hears the Word but is so taken with "worldly" cares and wealth (including status, etc) that the Word has no way to grow and so is barren in his life. In another hearer who has no understanding of what he has heard, the evil One snatches the Word away and carries off what was "sown in his heart". And in one person who both hears and understands it, the Word bears an immense harvest.

A couple of things are interesting in this parable (and in Matthew's interpretation of it). The first is that the Word which represents the Sovereignty or Kingdom of God is "sown" in our hearts and it is there that the seed finds the soil in which it will either grow to fruition, wither and die, be carried off by some other power or choked to death by other values and concerns. I have written a number of times here about the human heart as a primarily theological term and a dialogical reality, the reality created by God's call, voice, breath, song, etc, and the response we give to that, so I am not going to go into that further here except to refer the reader to past posts (cf labels, heart as a dialogical reality, for instance).

The second is that one must hear the Word in a way which includes understanding. Now this notion of understanding has come up for me recently in several ways. First, during retreat Fr Basil Matthews made some comments about understanding [the Word of God or the Rule of Benedict] being a form of "standing under." Just as knowing God is really about allowing ourselves to be known intimately by him, so too is understanding God a matter of allowing him to have sovereignty over us. Real understanding or knowing is not an intellectual act (or certainly not only that), but what happens when we allow God to dwell and act within us as sovereign Lord.

Secondly, I ran into the same notion of "standing under" while working on a homily there when one of the readings (Proverbs) connected real understanding with a way of being vis-a-vis the Wisdom of God --- something we were to assiduously seek out like buried treasure, the reading noted. At the same time I also read a passage from Gerald May's book on The Awakened Heart which referred to understanding as "standing under." And thirdly, here it is again with a reference to a person not understanding what they have heard and so, having the Word snatched away and carried off from their hearts by "the Evil One." In this case too, understanding is a matter of really standing under this Word in a way which marks one as being from and of it, as one belonging to it and as one who carries it into the world as the standard (and basis) of their lives. To not understand, to not hold this Word as precious, to fail to allow it to govern our lives and be sovereign in them is to allow another power or principality to steal it from us.

It is important to say something here about the soil of our hearts which either allows the seed to take root, or not. In fact I know that my own heart is as diverse as the terrain of the parable. There is soil packed down as well-worn paths (the places --- or the self-images --- I am comfortable and safe travelling on --- or moving through the world with); there is rocky ground (places of hardening due to woundedness, stubbornness, fear and insecurity, etc), thistle-strewn soil (the stuff that grows up because barrenness is a bit too scary, for instance, or because the Word had not been heard despite a hunger for it: nature abhors a vaccum and the human heart is the same). There are vast regions of wilderness I have never explored (and some I have!) which are inhabited by all manner of demons, and there are patches of good soil as well.

What I am aware of is the need for cultivation, a clearing of the rocks and thistles I allow to take the space God created for himself, for instance, or the need to feed and water the soil which is, or will soon be, ready for the Word --- and of course, something which requires the exploration of those desert spaces which remain largely unknown and frightening to me. What I know is that in my own heart the soil is not all the soil (humus) of humility -- the rich ground out of which life really springs and all the other virtues grow; it is not all the ground which allows God's Word to take root and his sovereignty to come to fruition in the Kingdom --- the garden of real and sustaining friendship with God --- and of course, that is precisely the soil which is needed.

Jesus wants us to hear and understand (stand under) the Word of God. In the Markan version of the parable the passage begins with the imperative, "Listen!" and in today's version from Matthew, the parable closes with the command, "Listen, those of you who have ears to hear with!" Once again he makes it clear that we share in a singular way in the story of God's search for a unique counterpart, one who is from God and of him, one who responsively embodies the Word of God in a unique way. He wants our hearts ready for this Word (a Word already present and active within us) in a way which allows it to be sovereign in our lives and in our world. He wants us to reflect as exhaustively as he does the truth of the dialogical reality we are at the core of our being. The ground in which this Word springs to fruition, the humus which is rich and capable of sustaining the growth of the seed in today's parable is the good soil of humility, the good soil of truthfulness about who we are in light of God. If, empowered and guided by the Holy Spirit, we can cultivate this soil and allow our hearts to be seedbeds of genuine humility, then the Word of God will indeed come to an immense harvest -- one which we ourselves could never have imagined.

Saint Romuald and the Camaldolese Charism (paintings)

I mentioned getting two paintings while on retreat. Father Robert Hale brought a number of books and other things from the gift shop at New Camaldoli, and these were really exceptional --- and certainly appropriate for a hermitage chapel!



The Camaldolese charism is threefold: solitude, community or koinonia, and evangelization or mission. Brother Emmaus O'Herlihy, a Camaldolese monk (though currently discerning a vocation at Saint Andrew's in Valyermo) painted a series of pictures which begins with St Romuald in ecstasy after receiving the gift of tears. This is the picture immediately above (sorry for chopping off the top portion of the painting).



The series continues with a Camaldolese monk in solitude, another of two monks together with one holding a Bible (koinonia around the Word of God), and another painting of two monks each turning from one another to go out in different directions on mission. The second painting shown above is "solitude".

Update: Brother Emmaus has made simple vows with Glenstal abbey and will be eligible for solemn vows in 2014. His work (certainly this series of paintings) continues to be available from New Camaldoli Hermitage in Big Sur.

Back from Retreat (Bishop's Ranch, Healdsburg, CA)

Thanks for your patience with my lack of posts. I was away on retreat and returned Sunday late afternoon. During retreat I was able to preach once on the solemnity of St Benedict and I will post that as soon as I am able. The readings for this week are also terrific so perhaps I can get some reflections up on them as well. Finally, I came home with two new paintings by a Camaldolese Monk (Brother Emmaus O'Herlihy): 1) St Romuald in ecstasy (after receiving the gift of tears), and 2) a painting called "Solitude". These are two paintings in a set of four exploring the Camaldolese charism or "triple-good," so I will post pictures of them and write a bit about those too. In the meantime the above picture was taken of most of the group (five were missing at this point) after the final Mass on Sunday.

Retreat itself was quite fine (though, of course, not what I expected, or at least planned for, in terms of personal work, etc!). It was, as last year's, a Benedictine Experience retreat and each day was modelled on a monastic horarium with sung Office three times a day, Mass at midday, silence throughout, choir practice and conferences in the mornings, lectio and work periods in the afternoon, and a meditation in the evening before Compline. On Thursday the schedule shifted some to accommodate a desert day, and people went off to do whatever they needed and wanted to do after the morning session. Each evening after Vespers and prior to dinner we had a half hour recreation where folks got to meet and talk, share wine and cheese, etc.



We humans were certainly not alone at Bishop's Ranch. Two of the nights we heard coyotes making kills not far from our rooms, and one of those Sister Donald (OSB Cam) heard a mountain lion make a kill about 2.5 hours earlier than the coyote sounds I heard that same night (Sr Donald thought it occured about 300 yds from our rooms). Other wildlife was around as well: rabbits, quail, and unfortunately, rattlesnakes --- though no one but Ranch staff ran into these!! (A baby rattlesnake was found where some workers were clearing brush and dead wood; it was eventually relocated to another ranch some miles away where it could live in peace --- and let us do the same!)

(Sister Donald and myself one morning in front of Webb Lodge where we had rooms.)

The moon was full and wonderful. The first night it woke me at 3:30am shining full in my room, and at first, confused on waking in a new place, all I could think was, "It CAN'T be dawn yet!" I watched it set into the trees of a nearby mountain two hours later, still brilliant, and still framed by my bedroom window. The moon remained almost as full the whole week (it was waning, and one night there was also an eclipse which was not really visible), so while the nights were not as dark as last year, they had a loveliness which was every bit as great.

So, more about all this and other things in the next posts (or perhaps as additions to this one!

"And When they Saw Him They Begged Him to . . ."

I have to say that today's Gospel always suprises and delights me. It is the story of first, Jesus' sending the demons which possess two men into a nearby herd of swine thus freeing the men from the bondage to brokennness and inhumanity which marks and mars their lives, and then, it is the story of what happens when he approaches the nearby town (Gadara) whose residents have heard of what he has done. Despite knowing how the story goes, I admit to being surprised everytime Matthew's last line which begins, "Thereupon the whole town came out to meet Jesus, and when they saw him. . ." concludes with, ". . .they begged him to leave their district."

Now, granted, Jesus just destroyed an entire herd of swine, and they must have been someone's livelihood --- perhaps many people's (and presuming Jesus was approaching Jews, it is a livelihood which contravened the Law as well). Some unhappiness with this would have been understandable. And Jesus has healed a couple of men whose conditions had made travel along a certain route unsafe, so one would expect a mixed response to that perhaps -- these men now will need to be accommodated in some real sense --- not simply treated as wild animals or aliens of some sort. I begin have a sense why Jesus was not welcomed here. But I admit to still hearing in the back of my mind cheers of welcome, beseeching of Jesus to come and change lives, a positive and welcoming response like that in fiction stories where the conquering hero comes back from slaying the dragon, or like the narrative in the New Testament where Jesus is welcomed as King with waving palm branches and cries of Hosanna --- temporary as that moment was! In a way, perhaps the "back of my mind" wants a costless or "cheap" grace, a "good news" fit for escapist fiction or an incredibly naive reading of the NT --- but not for the real world.

But the Gospel is good news in a much more realistic, paradoxical, and problematical way -- especially in regard to the first example above --- and today's Gospel lection highlights this for us. As we have heard over the past few passages from Matthew Jesus reveals himself to be a man of extraordinary, even divine authority --- a man with authority over nature, illness, the hearts of men and women, and now over demons. He heals, feeds on a profound and lasting level, frees, and provides true meaning and dignity for those lost and bereft. He is the Son of God (a title Matthew has on the lips of the demons in today's story)--- very good news indeed --- but he acts with an authority which is genuinely awesome and which turns the everyday world of politics, religion, simple ordinariness, and comfortable respectability on their heads. The Gadarenes in today's Gospel see this clearly and they are unprepared for it. Far from misunderstanding Jesus and refusing to welcome him on those grounds, like the Scribes and Pharisees they understand precisely who Jesus is and want no part of him. Far better to simply ask Jesus to leave the district than to have to come to terms with who he is and what that truly challenges and calls forth in us!

One of the current complaints by some traditionalists is that Vatican II gave us a God of love (they frequently spell the word "luv" to denote their disparagement of it) and lost the God who inspires fear, etc. They may well be correct that there has been some "domestication" of God and his Christ in popular piety --- but then this is not because of Vatican II; it is a continual temptation and sin besetting the Church. Afterall, how many of us when faced with the daily prospect of renewed faith recognize that acceptance of Jesus' authority -- expressed as an unconditional love which is stronger than death -- will turn our world upside down and call us to a radical way of living and loving which involves renunciation, self-sacrifice, and commitment to a Kingdom that is NOT of this world and often is at distinct odds with it? The equivalent of a herd of swine or the accommodation of the mentally ill is the least it will cost us --- precisely because it is unconditional. How many of us choose not so much to be loved -- with all that implies for growth, maturity and responsibility -- but instead (at least with some part of ourselves) would prefer to be coddled and cajoled? How many buy into (and construct our lives around) a religion which is at least as much OF this world as it is IN it?

So yes, today's Gospel both surprises and delights me. It does both because of its honesty; and it does so because it is genuinely good news, rooted in the awesome authority of the Christ who loves without condition but not without empowerment, challenge, and commission. Such a Christ will never be really popular I think. Many of our churches and cities are far more like Gadara than not. Sometimes, I am sorry to say, my hermitage is as well. The authority of Jesus over illness, fear, meaninglessness, and the demons that beset us is an awesome and demanding reality and our hearts are more often ambivalent and ambiguous than pure and single. I suspect that domestication of our faith is something most of us are guilty of every day of our lives. With that and today's Gospel in mind, let us summon up the courage to beg Jesus to enter into our towns, homes, churches, and hearts, and remain with us; let us give him free access to move within and change our world as he wills! That is my own prayer for today.

Solemnity of the Sacred Heart (and Feast of St Romuald!)

Today is ordinarily the Feast of the St Romuald, founder (after Benedict) of the Camaldolese Benedictines, but June 19th this year is also the Feast of the Sacred Heart. Thus it is a special day for me in several ways, for my former congregation was dedicated to the Sacred Heart and my present congregation (as an oblate) is Camaldolese. Further, my first real meeting with my former Bishop took place on the Feast of the Sacred Heart and I remember it with special vividness. Evenso, devotion to the Sacred Heart was not important to me; theologically it made little sense to me, and neither was it particularly appealing. It seemed to have to do more with the overly emotional or too-sentimental spirituality and private revelations of a 17th Century French nun, and less with the Jesus I personally knew and loved. Nor did it help that the usual pictures of the sacred heart were sort of garish and hard to relate to.

But this year I have spent some time on the notion of heart, on the idea that heart is defined theologically as the place within us where God bears witness to himself, on the startling idea that it is not the case that we have a heart and God comes then to dwell within it, but rather that the heart is first of all the place WHERE he dwells and speaks, loves, breathes, and sings us into existence moment by moment; it is therefore the "place" where we learn to listen or else close ourselves to this dynamic presence and power. More, it is also the broad or narrow reality which is created by that listening, or alternately by our refusal to hear and respond generously. It is, as I have written before, a dialogical reality or event which constitutes the very core of who we are.

Further, if you have read this blog for any length of time, you know that I have also spent time this year thinking about the hermit's vocation to love and the absolute imperative that our hearts must become ever wider as the dialogue between God and ourselves which constitutes that heart becomes deeper, more intense and pure, and more extensive as well. The struggle of the hermit to balance solitude with ministry is always a struggle to allow 1) the deepening of genuine interiority in solitary dialogue with God, and 2) to let the fruit and grace of this to spill out in the way God wills for the good of the rest of his creation. Finally, I recently (this week) lost someone whose long-patience and faithful love worked to heal me and empower my own capacity for love, and as I think about her life and work, I believe I have come to genuinely BEGIN to understand and appreciate the Sacred Heart.

We hear time and time again in the Scriptures, "If today you hear my voice, harden not your hearts!" The Greek words used for harden is the root of a medical term applied when tissue which has been wounded or injured in some way. It is the word we translate as "indurate" and it points to a failure to heal properly (or at least to return to normal), a subsequent lack of flexibility and sensation, tissue that has been damaged and never fully recovered having been replaced by scarring and simply by hardness. Unfortunately, I think so often this induration (or callousness) --- this hardening --- is precisely what happens to our own hearts when life wounds us in so many ways. We are hurt by others, by loss and bereavement, by failure, by betrayal. We are wounded precisely where we are most vulnerable and so we sometimes become both hardened against such injuries and wounding and less responsive, less vulnerable, and more fragile in the process. (Remember that fragility lacks vulnerability while vulnerability is a sign of strength and resiliency.)

And here I think is the key to understanding the Sacred or "pierced" Heart of Jesus. It is, precisely as it should be, the place where God bears witness to himself, the place where he summons Jesus into full humanity and responsive, loving existence. It is the center of Jesus' being, the event (for, despite my using the word "place", heart is really more an ongoing event than it is a place) constituted by the loving dialogue between God and man, the core of who Jesus really is in himself and of who he is for us. Further, of course, it is also a wounded heart, wounded in the mystical sense by the love of God as people like John of the Cross describe, but also wounded in the more prosaic sense of having been pierced by rejection, betrayal, cruelty, indifference, and the like. Yet, precisely because it is is the "place" where God's love dominates (that is, where that love is sovereign), where his creative and challenging Word is embodied ever more fully articulate, and where that Word is responded to faithfully in spite of all of the exigencies of life, it is a tender, flexible, strong and (for these very reasons) vulnerable heart untouched by induration or callousness. It is a heart which pours itself out for others even (and especially) as it receives the love and life of God ever-anew and more abundantly.

In many ways, I think, Devotion to the Sacred Heart is therefore devotion to what God desires to achieve and, in fact, does achieve on an ongoing, never-ceasing basis at the very center of ourselves; it is especially devotion to the One through and in whom this is achieved in a definitive way. Certainly it is devotion to a symbol of human fullness and that abundance of life which has the love of God as its center and driving force and to the Christ in whom that was exhaustively embodied. More, it is all these things in spite of the times and ways life wounds us and tempts to induration or hardness, inflexibility and callousness, and it is these things precisely for the sake of God, our truest selves, and our neighbors. Devotion to the Sacred Heart is devotion to a truly human heart whose very life blood is at the same time the Word and Spirit of God. It is devotion to the pierced heart which is also whole and tender, and lies at the service of mankind, devotion to one who loves without limit and embodies the Word and love of God without diminution or diffusion.

The Feast of the Sacred Heart celebrates God's love for us, a love which God offers without condition, and which he poured out without ceasing, kenotically and at his own expense -- not only in creation as he looked for one who would be a true counterpart, but as one who would therefore share it exhaustively with the whole of creation as well. It celebrates the embodiment of that love in a human life, and marks the vocation of each of us to do likewise. As well, it is a symbol of truly human love then, a love which flows through us and out to the world, out of our interiority in spite of our woundedness and brokenness, our callousness and fragility, but also out of our wholeness, our flexibility, and our strength in light of that love. Our God, in Christ, is the original wounded healer and I find that both immensely comforting and hopeful, as well as tremendously challenging. For that reason too, I find the symbol of the Sacred Heart freshly meaningful.

(Painting of the Sacred Heart by Salvador Dali)

Clever as Serpents, Gentle as Doves

The following post is a reprise from last year. The Gospel for tomorrow is the same reading and since I have not been posting much I hope you will forgive me for putting this up again. I would like to rework it from the perspective of a new title, "Clever (or Sly as) Serpents, gentle as Doves" for I think that this is the kind of ethic we see from Jesus again and again: he traps those trying to trap him in their own reality and then offers them something new and better, all without aggression or hostility. For those thinking that Christianity offers us a kind of bloodless piety incapable of dealing with the world, a piety which makes doormats of disciples, this passage from Matthew is an eye-opener.

Throughout the past few days we have been listening to the sermon on the mount in bite-sized pieces. Today's Gospel (Matt 5:38-42) may be a bit more difficult to swallow than most. Our immediate reaction may be one of inner protest, a complaint that Jesus' demands are unrealistic, that they will lead to increased rather than decreased violence, that to act as he requires is destructive of self-esteem, human dignity, and even good social order! Throughout the sermon on the mount Jesus has laid before us the requirements of living as a light to the world and witnessing to the astoundingly patient and generous love of God. But today we are especially asked to witness to the dignity and inner freedom that results when we are loved with God's "everlasting" and unconditional love.

Jesus gives us three examples of what he means. Each one makes a shrewd kind of sense within the culture of his day. Each one involves a non violent response to some kind of oppression or injustice and each one involves a letting go of a "worldly dignity" (self-worth or dignity measured in terms of the world) while claiming a deeper identity and self-worth in Christ. Finally, each example is therefore marked by the peculiar freedom of the Christian, the freedom to act as the daughters and sons of God we are called to be despite the limitations and constraints placed upon us by life.

In the first example, Jesus tells us that if we are struck on the right cheek, we should turn the other cheek to our oppressor. Now in Jesus' day, to be struck on the right cheek implied a backhanded slap which indicated an unequal social situation and was understood to be an insult. A master might strike a slave in this way, or a child might be struck thusly, and in some cases even a woman might be. To turn the other cheek meant the person who had been insulted or demeaned (and who might indeed occupy an inferior social position) assumes the position of an equal and requires the oppressor to recognize this either by striking her again with the front of his hand or desisting entirely. In either case, the equality of persons is affirmed and the person struck witnesses to an inner freedom which goes beyond anything the world knows.

The second example is drawn from the law court. Jesus admonishes us that if someone wishes to sue us for our tunic, we should give them our cloak as well. Implied here is an image of someone powerful and possibly rich suing someone who is less powerful and poor for the shirt off their back. (Luke uses the term "robbery" when referring to this particular saying of Jesus.) What is envisioned is the powerful person reducing the poor one to a state of nakedness, but what is also the case in Jesus' image is that the one shamed in such an act would be the powerful person, not the one deprived of their clothing. The act of handing over one's cloak as well serves to reveal the venality of the one suing even while it witnesses to a greater inner freedom and deeper dignity than the world knows. To live from and of the love of God allows a kind of detachment from the more usual honor/shame categories which characterized Jesus' world, even while our actions unmask these categories as less than authentically human.

The third example Jesus gives involves the demand that if we are pressed into service and asked to go a mile, we should go the extra mile as well. This example was drawn directly from the culture of the day. Jews were often pressed into service by Roman soldiers to carry equipment and the like. The law allowed a citizen to be impressed into service for one mile, but no more than this. The practice caused all kinds of resentment and the development of zealotism with the threat of armed rebellion was a dominant reality as well. For a person to voluntarily go the extra mile demonstrated a capacity to resist evil (oppression) without violence even while he assumed the position of Roman peer. (Remember that if the soldier's superior's were to hear a citizen went the second mile during impressed service, the soldier was open to discipline. In this sense, the one who voluntarily goes the second mile could be said to gain a superior position to the soldier!) In any case, once again, the Christian is asked to witness to a greater personal freedom and more profound dignity than the world marked or knew.

As we have been hearing in so many of the readings since Easter, the challenge before us is to live lives of genuine holiness, not merely lives of simple respectability. If Jesus' examples shock us and ask us to imagine God's will for us as more demanding, more counter-cultural than we might often do otherwise, well and good! The key to understanding how truly reasonable these demands are is to recall they are not rooted in some abstract code of behavior or ethics. Instead we must recognize that Jesus has lived them out himself: he has turned the other cheek, given his cloak as well as his tunic, and gone the extra mile in ways, and to a degree which cause today's examples to pale in comparison. Likewise, by revealing (that is, by making known and making real among us) the God who loves us with an everlasting love, he empowers us to live our lives similarly. How ever it is we work out the application of these examples from Jesus' world in our own, we are being asked to witness to a love which goes beyond anything the world has ever known apart from Christ, and to demonstrate this with a freedom and sense of personal dignity which is deeper than anything the world can give OR take from us.

[Pictures are those of the prominence where it is believed the sermon on the mount was given, the church built on this site, and a view from the "mount" looking over the plain of Genesseret.]

Pentecost, 2009: Come South Wind by Jessica Powers

"By South Wind is meant the Holy Spirit who awakens love." (St John of the Cross)

Over and over I say to the South wind: come,
waken in me and warm me!
I have walked too long with a death's chill in the air,
mourned over trees too long with branches bare.
Ice has a falsity for all its brightness
and so has need of your warm reprimand.
A curse be on the snow that lapsed from whiteness,
and all bleak days that paralyze my land.

I am saying all day to Love who wakens love:
rise in the south and come!
Hurry me into springtime; hustle the winter
out of my sight; make dumb
the north wind's loud impertinence. Then plunge me
into my leafing and my blossoming,
and give me pasture, sweet and sudden pasture.
Where could the Shepherd bring
his flocks to graze? Where could they rest at noonday?
O south wind, listen to the woe I sing!
One whom I love is asking for the summer
from me, who am still distances from spring.

(1954; 1984)

Pentecost, 2009, The Spirit's Name by Jessica Powers

Dove is the name of Him and so is Flame,
and love can push aside all eager symbols
to be His peerless and His proper name.
And Wind and Water, even Cloud will do,
if it is a heart that has the interview.

But when you are at last alone with Him
deep in the soul and past the sense's choir,
O give Him then the title which will place
His unpredictable breath upon your face:
O Dove, O Flame, O Water, Wind, and Cloud!
(And here the creature wings go veering higher)
O love that lifts us wholly into God!

O Deifier.


(1955)

On Hairshirts and Penance, Continuing the Conversation (post #3)

[[Hello Sr. Laurel, I have followed the hairshirt debate in [name of listserve] and on your blog. I have not understood you well enough, I think. I do agree very much with your point about prayer. Growth is the work of The Holy Spirit, whom we encounter primarily by prayer and Communion. On the other hand, your argument seems to say that Christian discipline is unnecessary, even bad (or potentially bad). I will agree that there are pitfalls, but is it proper to conclude that because there is danger in a thing that the thing is to be avoided?

It seems that what you have said is, by analogy, that athletes should not undertake artificial work (lifting weights, etc) in striving to become better athletes. Rather, they should simply make use of the natural work that comes their way. As far as I understood Christian discipline, the point of it is to grow in virtue, which we do by practice. Discipline it is not, and should never be, motivated by dualism. But discipline seems to have its place, properly used and understood, to mortify the appetites and practice our exercise in virtue, in saying "no" to self and "yes" to God. But your argument seems to lead inevitably to the conclusion that even fasting is not good. I know that right now you're saying "Hold On a minute!" I don't have your argument right, which is exactly why I'm writing you. Thank you, Sister.]]

This is really a great question, and without engaging in a copout I need to say first, by way of introduction, that no form of penance is right for everyone (or at every point in a life), and that includes fasting. Can you see a spiritual director advocating fasting for a client with anorexia for instance? What is good praxis for one person may contribute to unhealthiness in another. What assists with the development of virtue in one person may contribute to vice and trigger a more intense struggle with the passions for another. (And by passions I mean those distorting lenses through which we see reality wrongly, like anger, greed, self-loathing, self-righteousness, perfectionism, etc.)

For the person with anorexia, for instance, it might be that many small nourishing meals during a day is penitential. It might be that lots of ice-cream or high protein shakes is one part of genuine penance --- not merely because eating these is difficult, though that will be true, but because it is healthful in this particular case both physically, and spiritually. At the same time therapy will be penitential (as it is for most of us), and again not merely because it is difficult, though that will be true, but because it leads to a more whole and holy life. It humanizes and will contribute to prayer, that is, to a life of genuine attentiveness to the voice and activity of a merciful and loving God in our lives.

In this sense there is nothing artificial about the discipline of eating many small nourishing meals or undertaking the challenge and difficulty of therapy. These are natural forms of attentiveness to one's true needs in such a situation. Note well that simply because something is natural as opposed to artificial does not mean it does not require discipline. When I spoke critically about imposing artificial penances I was not ruling out discipline (which is emphatically NOT the same thing as a phrase I did use, "taking the discipline" -- a form of self-flagellation) or even referring to it; I take the need for discipline in the spiritual life for granted as a necessity --- hence my comment on the possible accuracy of the term ascesis rather than penance in some situations. Indeed I am sure you know yourself how demanding the discipline of regular prayer, journaling, a balanced eremitical (or spiritual) life actually is NATURALLY. In fact, many might be surprised to discover how truly demanding is the discipline of being genuinely attentive, or determining what one actually needs to be truly human in every moment of life. Living fully requires discipline of all kinds, but in all these cases the discipline is holistic and serves the greater goal and aim or telos of one's being.

Moreover, my use of the terms artificial and natural (did I actually use THAT word other than implicitly?) therefore, were used within the context of prayer and authentic humanity. What would be natural would be those things which flowed from or were clearly and genuinely called for by prayer and lead back to it by fostering its regularization, extension, and deepening in my life. What would be artificial is some form of penance which was more extrinsic to and not linked in this way; it would be one which showed no organic relationship with prayer and humanization, or even worse, which flowed from (or was imposed in such a way as to hook into and feed from or even exacerbate) darker or more sinister dimensions of the human psyche, or from drives which were baser and unconscious.

Growth in virtue is certainly something I have been referring to in other words, therefore, for growth in virtue is growth in authentic humanity and all the qualities thereof. And yes, such growth requires praxis which serves to mortify that which fails to serve or is an obstacle to this growth. More importantly, this is a praxis which should integrate the various aspects of the person so that they become an articulate whole (a prayer) reflecting the Word and glory of God. Quite often, however, in the history of penitential practice, I think people have adopted various activities which have no intention or chance of integrating the disparate drives and aspects of the human personality. Above all they were not inspired or a response to grace, and because of this, they were destructive and exacerbated the state of sin (brokenness, alienation, etc) more often than not.

If I were to use your analogy of the athlete, for instance, and if I were to accept that it is desirable for the person to grow as an athlete, then ascesis is a natural consequence of that telos or goal. Weight lifting, eating patterns that are far from normal (the normative pattern), sufficient rest, etc, would all be forms of discipline the person should engage in. These would be not necessarily be artificial or extrinsic to the nature and goal of human athleticism. On the other hand, taking steroids or other forms of actual abuse would not be natural or acceptable forms of ascesis because the person themselves suffer in both short and long terms. Some sort of pure athleticism might be enhanced (an atheleticism of strength, speed, size, with reference to physicality, metabolism and performance per se) but it would not be human athleticism. Instead it reduces human athleticism to the level of enhanced physiological functions achieved at the expense of the accomplishment and reality of the whole person. or, in other words, while the muscles develop and function superbly, they do so only at the expense of the athlete himself (and so, at the expense of true athleticism). I think the analogy can be extended to the use of such things as hair shirts, taking the discipline, the wearing of the cilice, etc. We see this in other areas of life as well; people take drugs to enhance sexual performance and see sexual intercourse as a form of bedroom gymnastics focused on "performing" while divorcing all of this from true marriage or the growth of the spouses together in holiness and wholeness.

So, yes, I agree completely that simply because a thing can be abused does not mean it should be avoided; rather it should be used with genuine care, attentiveness, and insight. However, in a psychologically more sophisticated age and culture we should certainly know to eschew those things which are abusive (or otherwise questionable) in and of themselves. In my understanding of asceticism there is a difference between discipline and abusive behavior or praxis. More, there is a vast difference between praxis which flows from and nourishes prayer and the actual becoming of prayer which is the telos of our vocations to incarnate the Word of God and that which is imposed extrinsically and apart from this context --- especially when such praxis is careless and perhaps wholly unaware of the darker or unconscious drives, urges and dimensions of the human psyche, or when such practice is rooted in a loathing of the body and materiality/corporeality. It is not the abuse of a practice I have decried in my earlier posts, but practice which is of itself abusive and rooted in a lack of esteem for the principle and reality of authentic incarnation.

I hope this helps. Of course, please get back to me if I missed something in your post or raised more questions. Thanks once again for continuing and furthering the conversation.

On Hairshirts and Penance. Continuing the Conversation

[[ Dear Sister Laurel. Thanks for beginning this conversation. It is a great topic. Too bad you don't allow comments in the blog itself, but email is fine. Here is my question. Why do you think your perspective on penance is such a different one from what is commonly held, as you put it?]]

This is a great question. When I began to write earlier I was aware of a voice in my mind from my first and most influential theology professor. He once said (and he said it several times over the years I studied with him!): "Fasting is not, of itself, essential to Christianity." Throughout the years since I have dealt (even struggled) with that dictum in various ways, but it has never left my consciousness. However, as I continued to write the first post in this thread I began to think that possibly this was one of those elusive but very real areas of Christian praxis where a feminine perspective produces radically different results than a masculine one. (Generally I cringe when I hear someone say, "Oh good, you can add the feminine perspective," or " What we need to hear (in preaching or whatever) is the feminine perspective.")

What I mean by this is that in very broad strokes the feminine perspective is usually more holistic, focused on integration, and less muscular or focused on beating things into submission, for instance. When I was answering questions on an online service once, it was not uncommon to get questions about masturbation. When someone would do so because they were troubled about it (usually it is an adolescent boy, though not always) I have heard priests (who were also queried) give the advice to confront it head on, do battle with the urges, cold-shower or otherwise pound them into oblivion, etc. My approach was and is invariably different: "make sure your life is full and rewarding; make sure there are strong relationships and healthy intimacy. Make sure you are active in school, sports, etc. Do not battle with your urges directly, at least not in the long term; it is a sure way to give them greater power." Over time I have come to think of my approach to these kinds of things as the more feminine approach, and the priest's I mentioned as the more masculine. Of course, there are strands of spirituality where body and spirit are understood to be opposed and even at war with one another, and these too are an issue, but I am not entirely sure these strands are not the more masculine approach themselves. Ordinarily this masculine-feminine division is not one I am comfortable adverting to in most things, but in regard to approaches to penance (and a few other areas), I think it is valid.

The second reason I think my approach is quite different is because of chronic illness. Possibly illness contributes to my sense that prayer and penance form an integrated reality where prayer is primary. I am fairly clear that life itself involves built in penance and obstacles to prayer which need to be negotiated in a way which humanizes. More about this when I look at some of the questions posed with regard to chronic illness.

The third reason is that for many people penance is divorced from prayer. It is not seen as a servant of prayer, nor is enabling or extending prayer the real goal of penance for many. Similarly then prayer is not the thing whch drives penance for many. The simple fact is that many people have relatively rudimentary prayer lives compartmentalized from the rest of their existence. Unfortunately then, penance is equally compartmentalized. By the way, note well that when I refer to prayer here I am referring to 1) the activity and initiative of God within us as well as to 2) the empowered response we make to that initiative. Because of this prayer becomes synonymous with the responsive or obedient life of sonship or daughterhood. Penance, as I noted in regard to Jesus, is inspired, and serves to assist in the consolidation of this identity. (It is striking that Jesus' prolonged fast in the desert is precisely a response to the Word he heard at his baptism:" This is my beloved Son in whom I am well pleased." Similarly it is in their own sojourn in the desert that the people of Israel were drawn to consolidate their new identity as free and covenant people in a way where, though not identical to this dynamic in Jesus' life, prayer and penance flowed from and to one another.) This is not the experience of prayer and penance most people have, I think.

If prayer and penance are divorced from one another in this way then penance loses its source of governance and any drive within the human being can become expressed as "penance." Any unpleasant practice can become "penitential" nevermind the results in terms of prayer, humanity, maturation or integration. This is as true when another person is the one requesting or commanding the penance to be undertaken. I also think that sometimes we hope that in a person's life there is a small stream called prayer, and (if we can convince them to undertake it) another stream called penance, and that if someone merely practices both eventually the streams will merge into a large integrated stream and one will have a more adequate spiritual life. What is as likely to occur is that the two streams will remain separated with little influence (or at least, little positive influence, on one another. My own approach to penance always demands there be a clear preference given to prayer, and that the two be seen as integrally related in a demonstrable way.

Hope this helps. As always, if it raises more questions or is unclear in some way, please email me.

On Hairshirts and Penance in General. Beginning the Conversation

Recently on a list I belong to there was a discussion about hairshirts and the benefits and drawbacks of such practices (along with cilices, disciplines, and the like). It seemed to me the group doing the discussing fell into two camps on the issue, those who thought this was anachronistic and even lacking in spiritual authenticity, and those who were enamored of such practices and struggled to justify them. (I say struggled because again and again I got the impression that this was a practice people wanted to adopt because it was "Carthusian" --- despite the fact that Carthusians have generally dropped the practice of such "mortifications" --- and were looking for ways to validate their use in terms of genuine spirituality.) I also got the impression that time and again these struggles or attempts failed to convince or impress even those who were making them.

Interestingly, the strongest representatives of the "(this is) anachronistic, inauthentic, and even destructive" school of thought were those on the list who lived with chronic illness, while the "enamored" (or at the least, "intrigued") group seemed representative of the healthy or those who were just beginning to deal with illness regularly and wondered if such practices COULD have prepared them to live with their new situations better. (There were two other groups, those who wanted to find a place to buy or otherwise procur a hairshirt because of their nostalgia for things Carthusian, and a very much larger group who eschewed the discussion in distaste after a brief comment, but by definition neither added much in terms of posts to the conversation.)

Larger issues were certainly raised therefore: can these kinds of mortifications assist a person in preparing to live with chronic illness, for instance, what is the nature and purpose of penance itself, is the notion that the suffering that comes to us in daily life is sufficient and need not be supplemented by this kind of practice an adequate approach to penance? And of course, as someone living under a Canon that describes her life as one of assiduous prayer and penance and who wrote and lives a Rule that attempts to do justice to that, how does a diocesan hermit (or at least THIS diocesan hermit) look at all this? What does my own penitential life look like and why? What do I think a genuine penitential life should look like and why? In this post I want to begin a discussion of these and some other questions re penance. I hope people will contribute with questions and comments via email.

I often feel I am coming from a different place than most people on the nature of penance. However, the starting point for reflection, I think, should always be the life of Jesus. When I look at the Scriptures it seems to me that Jesus' penance (for instance his fasting in the desert, etc) was inspired, and it was above all an expression of dependence upon God through which he came to live fully his own Sonship with the Father and therefore, was a way of solidifying and maturing in that. It prepared for and helped create the life of prayer he lived and was. It served that, in fact. In this portrait, the two realities, prayer and penance go hand in hand as closely and naturally related, mutually empowering and nurturing one another.(In fact, in older parts of the tradition, authentic penance is called "body prayer" so essential is the relationship between the two.)

For this reason I tend to look first at prayer, at what it is, etc, and then to look at penance as that which assists prayer and allows it to 1) occur in conscious ways, 2) deepen and 3) become more extensive so that eventually one's whole being is prayer. Whatever truly assists in this process I would look at as penance, despite the fact that such stuff is rarely commonly perceived as penitential. Granted, it may be the better word for penance here is ascesis, but the Canon diocesan hermits live under pairs prayer and penance in a fundamental way, just as it pairs silence and solitude into something which is greater called "the silence of solitude", so I have worked through this to maintain the pairing I think is more essential or foundational than merely convenient.

In my Rule, therefore, since prayer is understood first of all as the activity of God within my life and secondly (and derivatively) as my own empowered or inspired response to that activity --- all of which is what I am made and meant for apart from sin --- I define prayer in terms of those moments of victory God achieves in my life, moments where the relationship between us is made conscious, moments where he is truly sovereign, moments where, in particular, he is truly allowed to love and create me anew from within and without as he wills. Penance then becomes anything which helps to allow, intensify, or extend these moments of victory into the whole of my life, and thus, to make me more fully alive and present to reality in a way which is the goal of my existence. The Rule reads:

". . . Prayer represents an openness and responsiveness to the personal and creative address of God which is rooted in and empowered by the Holy Spirit. Penance seem to me to be any activity which assists in regularizing, integrating, deepening and extending: 1) this openness and responsiveness to God, 2) a correlative esteem for myself, and 3) for the rest of God's creation. While prayer corresponds to those deep moments of victory God achieves within me and includes my grateful response. Penance is that Christian and more extended form of disciplined "festivity" implicating that victory in the whole of life and preparing for the fulfillment of this activity which is to be accomplished only with the coming of the Kingdom in fullness(Eph 1:4; LG 5,48)."

Two things I think stand out in this understanding of penance. The first is the notion of penance as a form of festivity (and I am NOT thinking of festivity for sado-masochists!), and the second is its integrative dimension. Penance is a form of responsive, even celebratory activity which, according to the promptings of the dynamic Spirit of God, allows prayer to become less and less compartmentalized in our lives, while helping us ourselves become more and more fully involved in constant prayer and fully responsive to the action and initiative or a God who would extend his sovereignty. While not everything is to be called penance, anything which is undertaken in response to prayer in order to serve prayer and our own authentic humanity and holiness could justifiably be thought of as penance then.

In this schema then, journaling regularly could be a penitential act. Or, for instance, sometimes a hot shower and timely nap, comforting as they are, are penance. Sometimes a brisk walk or time spent planting something in the garden is. Other times taking a pill I really don't like is --- not because I don't like it or because it produces some suffering (side effects are ALWAYS a reality), but because it SERVES my spiritual life. And in such a schema, appropriate rest and nourishment (especially so long as one is attentive at meals!), dream work, therapy, spiritual direction, recreation, and any number of other things could be considered penitential precisely because they can allow the maturation of prayer and the transformation of the person INTO prayer. Again, above all, in this schema penance is not punitive or geared towards subjugation of this or that dimension of our lives; it is instead celebratory and integrative.

Of course, this notion of penance does not rule out the unpleasant things which are necessary to grow and mature as a person of prayer. I think that is obvious even from some of the examples I chose: taking a pill (or many pills) I dislike, for instance, or therapy, journaling, fasting, etc. However, I think there must be a clear relationship between prayer and penance, and penance must always be the servant of prayer and human maturation. This is the driving consideration for me on what serves as authentic penance. More about the discussion re hairshirts and the questions raised in other posts. . .

Prayer. Is it really "just talking to God"?

[[Hi Sister. A definition I was given of prayer was that it is " just talking to God." The idea here was that one ought not to get overwrought about language or grammar, etc but simply talk to God. However, this seems to rule a lot out of prayer, including a lot you have said about it. Would you disagree or agree with this definition and why?]]

Generally, as I think you are already aware, I disagree with the definition and I believe that while it can be of limited help to some people at some points in learning to pray, especially to young persons used to rote prayers or those who are overly concerned with "getting (or doing) it exactly right" for instance, it is a definition I would generally avoid. There are several reasons. First, our own talking to God is ALWAYS a response to his active, loving, merciful, and communicating presence, and it is this active presence brought to consciousness that is prayer. Prayer itself is the work of the Holy Spirit who empowers us to listen and respond. In other words prayer is ALWAYS first and foremost something God achieves in us, something God does, not something we do ourselves except secondarily and derivatively. The focus on OUR talking misses this accent on God's action and initiative, sometimes completely. Secondly, the focus on talking often rules out subsequent listening to God as well. Similarly, it rules out other non-verbal forms of prayer as well: running or walking quietly, sitting silently, meditating on Scripture, playing violin (etc), painting, and/or any other activity in which one both listens (or watches) attentively and pours oneself into the activity in a responsive way. Prayer involves listening to and with one's heart. This presupposes the activity of God there and it perceives prayer not only as responsive, but as a centered act of the whole person. Finally, when one defines prayer as "just talking to God" one sets oneself and others up for expecting (and not getting) a correlative response on God's part; one sets oneself and others up for believing either they have not been heard or what they said not been regarded, etc. The dynamic here is "I did my part; why doesn't God do his?" --- because after all, God really does NOT speak to us or answer prayer in a comparable way.

This definition of prayer is reductionistic and personally I can't see simplifying (or reducing) the definition of prayer to "just talking to God" when the difficulty with prayer is not that it involves tricky or hard-to-learn techniques. What is difficult about prayer is learning to trust ever more deeply, and further, learning to perceive the activity of God that goes on all the time within and around us so that we can learn to surrender increasingly to it. Defining prayer in terms of "just talking to God" can encourage self-centeredness and make maturation in prayer quite difficult. It may involve some degree of surrendering to God and communicating from one's heart (ideally it implies these things), but often it means simply pouring things out to God in an assertive way and then leaving once one has had one's say, without any genuine listening. When this is true, "just talking to God," can be a distraction from more authentic or mature prayer. In fact it can prevent us from even suspecting that prayer involves "listening" (that is attending and surrendering) to a God who himself is a constituent part of the activity of our hearts or, that is, to the very core of our Selves.

Another objection I have is that it is a definition that tends to make of God just another buddy we disclose our daily agenda or problems to. While I agree our relationship with God should allow for complete openness in such matters and that friendship with God is something to honor, God is not just another friend we chat or have coffee with (though we may ALSO do these things with him in a conscious way). As I noted briefly above, one definition of prayer I personally use with people (including grade school kids in years 6-8) is, "listening to and with one's heart." Here the accent is on paying attention to what a sovereign God does within us, and also making all we do into prayer. Prayer is clearly something responsive which God empowers, and while it will surely involve pouring out our hearts to God, it is always more a matter of letting him pour himself into our hearts -- and into our world through us. In every way, the intimacy of friendship notwithstanding, prayer is not simply talking to a peer. On the whole then, my objections to the definition you heard and provided is that it assists with a narrow range of problems in prayer but fails to teach the larger truth that prayer is always God's own work in us or therefore, that it demands an attentiveness that goes far beyond "just talking to God." For that reason I believe it creates more problems than it solves.

Bishop Cordileone "Takes Possession" of His New Diocese

Bishop Salvatore Cordileone was installed as Bishop, or rather "took possession" of the Diocese of Oakland today. (The reference to taking possession is the more precise canonical term for this act; it is not a reference to the type of leadership we expect Bishop Cordileone to exercise!!) In an afternoon which began with a procession of clergy from San Diego and Oakland, continued with the new Bishop banging three times on the doors to the Cathedral of Christ the Light while Cardinal, Bishops, clergy, and people waited within and then proceeded with the reading and witnessing of the official letter of appointment from Benedict XVI and the seating of Bp Cordileone in the chair (cathedra), it was a terrific beginning to a wonderful celebration.

In his homily Bishop Cordileone emphasized that the Bishop is the icon of Christ's wedding with his church and spoke of a service to the diocese defined in terms of John's love as giving one's life for his friends. As he explained, the language of possession includes the phrase "to have and to hold" --- clearly nuptial language ---and he developed the analogy further in light of the Gospel from John 15. He expanded on the image of abiding with in light of Christ and his love; the central associated image here was laying one's life down for one's friends, and it seemed to promise a leadership of genuine Christian intent and motivation. It was a fine homily and promising for the diocese's relationship with her new pastor.

Also, for me personally, it was wonderful to see Archbishop Vigneron once again who came for the installation. In any case, the Diocese of Oakland officially has a new shepherd and we look forward to the future.

Congratulations to Catherine Wright, Consecrated Virgin

Congratulations to Catherine Wright on her consecration under Canon 604 to a life of consecrated virginity for women living in the world. Catherine's consecration was held in the Mission St Raphael in San Rafael, CA last Wednesday (Feast/Memorial of St Catherine of Sienna, Catherine's patron). Archbishop Neiderauer of the Archdiocese of San Francisco presided. Judith Stegman, president of the US Association of Consecrated Virgins attended and witnessed the consecration.



Received into full communion as a Catholic just six years ago, Catherine now ministers by assisting in the RCIA program herself and will continue to do that as newly consecrated spouse of Christ. During the ceremony Catherine was given a gold wedding band (above) and a copy of a Book of Hours (Liturgy of the Hours or Divine Office, cf below) to indicate both her new state of life and part of the responsibilities she assumes as a result. Undoubtedly prayer is seen as a central aspect of the vocation and during the Archbishop's homily, which was mainly instructive of what Catherine undertakes in accepting this vocation, he provided a litany of the ways Catherine would pray in service of the church from this day forward. At the same time, the consecration under Canon 604 is given to women living in the world, and this is where they carry out their ministry.



Although Consecrated Virgins aren't religious, are not called Sister, and make no vows (they pledge themselves to perpetual virginity but this is not considered a vow), they do give (dedicate) themselves completely to Christ as spouse and assume a special place of service in their dioceses and parishes. The wedding ring is the single outward sign of this dedication and correlative consecration while the Rite is replete with wedding imagery. Ordinarily Consecrated Virgins are also allowed to reserve the Eucharist in a tabernacle in their own homes or apartments, just as hermits and religious houses are allowed to do. (This requires the Bishop's permission, and is not automatic, by the way. Not all Bishops grant permission.) Along with Canon 603 (consecrated or diocesan hermits), Canon 604 (order of consecrated virgins) is one of the renewed but very ancient forms of consecrated life in the Revised Code of Canon Law which came out in October (Advent), 1983.

All good wishes to Catherine as she begins this new (state of) life! It is the start of an awesome adventure.

In Memoriam, Michael E Miller, Oblate OSB Camaldolese

Occasionally, by the grace of God, we meet people who are genuine Christians and even mystics. They have suffered with all the foibles and sometimes the illnesses that afflict us human beings routinely, and are very clear that God in Christ has transformed them and their lives. They still have those illnesses and yet joyfully live a full, whole, and holy life in Christ because they have learned the truth of Paul's affirmation about God, "My grace is sufficient for you; my power is made perfect in weakness." They live lives of deep and abiding prayer, becoming God's own prayers in this world, and in everything they are and do they manifest the hope that the Church proclaims as our heritage as adopted Sons and Daughters during this Easter season especially.

Michael Miller was such a man. Michael was a Camaldolese Oblate and I met him several years ago at Incarnation Monastery before I had affiliated with Transfiguration. Since he lived in San Francisco, and I in a hermitage across the Bay, occasionally we would meet for coffee and conversation in Border's bookstore in SF. Other times we would see each other at Incarnation for Office, Mass, or quiet days, and I particularly remember one dinner we celebrated as we, another couple of Oblates and the Monks from Incarnation went out to mark the Feast of St Romuald. Michael and I shared a common interest in things Camaldolese and Benedictine, spirituality more generally, and more particularly the notion of a vocation to chronic illness. He had struggled with alcoholism in his youth, with AIDS the rest of his life, and, since I have known him, with respiratory problems compromising some of his abilities.

He was known for his gentleness, his deep wisdom, and his abiding compassion and lack of judgmentalism. He was also known for his wonderful sense of humor and capacity for conversation. He was a talker (!!) --- but with a great capacity for listening! It was with sadness that I learned of his death this last Wednesday. He was a friend, and I will miss him though I believe that he is present still watching over our Camaldolese interests and concerns. I know too that he read this blog, so it is an honor to remember him here. I know he would have laughed to see an article about himself here --- and he had a truly wonderful laugh.

For those in the SF area, especially Oblates, Michael's funeral will be at 2:00pm at Holy Redeemer Church in San Francisco. The address is 100 Diamond St in the Castro (about a mile from the 16th/Mission BART station or just a couple of blocks from the Castro muni station). Visitation will be held starting at noon.