Feast of the Baptism of Jesus

Until I can write a separate reflection for today's feast I am reposting this one from a couple of years ago. Sorry for the inconvenience! I hope everyone's Christmastide has been wonderful!



Of all the feasts we celebrate, the baptism of Jesus is the most difficult for us to understand. We are used to thinking of Baptism as a solution to original sin instead of the means of our initiation into the death and resurrection of Jesus, or our adoption as daughters and sons of God and heirs to his Kingdom, or again, as a consecration to God's very life and service. When viewed this way, and especially when we recall that John's baptism was one of repentance for sin, how do we make sense of a sinless Jesus submitting to it?

I think two points need to be made here. First, Jesus grew into his vocation. His Sonship was real and completely unique but not completely developed or historically embodied from the moment of his conception; rather it was something he embraced more and more fully over his lifetime. Secondly, his Sonship was the expression of solidarity with us and his fulfillment of the will of his Father to be God-with-us. Jesus will incarnate the Logos of God definitively in space and time, but this event we call the incarnation encompasses and is only realized fully in his life, death, and resurrection -- not in his nativity. Only in allowing himself to be completely transparent to this Word, only in "dying to self," and definitively setting aside all other possible destinies does Jesus come to fully embody and express the Logos of God in a way which expresses his solidarity with us as well.

It is probably the image of Baptism-as-consecration then which is most helpful to us in understanding Jesus' submission to John's baptism. Here the man Jesus is set apart as the one in whom God will truly "hallow his name". Here, in an act of manifest commitment, Jesus' humanity is placed completely at the service of the living God and of those to whom God is committed. Here his experience as one set apart for God establishes him as completely united with us and our human condition. And here too Jesus anticipates the death and resurrection he will suffer for the sake of both human and Divine destinies which, in him, will be reconciled and inextricably wed to one another. His baptism establishes the pattern not only of HIS humanity, but that of all authentic humanity. So too does it reveal the nature of true divinity, for our's is a God who becomes completely subject to our sinful reality in order to free us for his own entirely holy one.

I suspect that even at the end of the Christmas season we are still scandalized by the incarnation. We still stumble over the intelligibility of this baptism, and the propriety of it especially. Our inability to fathom Jesus' baptism, and our tendency to be shocked by it, just as JohnBp was probably shocked, says we are not comfortable, even now, with a God who enters exhaustively into our reality. We remain uncomfortable with a Jesus who is tempted like us in ALL THINGS, and matures into his identity as God's only begotten Son. We are puzzled by one who is holy as God is holy and, as the creed affirms, "true God of true God" and who, evenso, is consecrated to the one he calls Abba and to the service of his Kingdom and people. A God who comes to us in smallness, weakness, submission, and self-emptying is really not a God we are comfortable with --- despite three weeks of Christmas celebrations and reflections, and a prior four weeks of preparation -- is it? And perhaps this is as it should be. Perhaps the scandal attached signals to us we are getting this right theologically.

Afterall, today's feast tells us that Jesus' public ministry begins with a consecration. His public life begins with an event that prefigures his end as well. There is a real dying to self involved here, not because Jesus has a false self which must die -- as each of us has --- but because his life is placed completely and publicly at the disposal of his God, his Abba. Loving another, affirming the being of another in a way which subordinates one's own being to theirs --- putting one's own life at their disposal always entails a death of sorts -- and a kind of rising to new life as well. The dynamics present on the cross are present here too -- complete and obedient (that is open and responsive) submission to the will of God, and an unfathomable subjection to that which sin makes necessary so that God's love may conquer precisely here as well.

Prisoners as Hermits: Another look at the Redemption of Unnatural Solitudes (#1)

[[Dear Sister, I am sorry to keep bothering you because of an article or two on the internet, but I also read there about the idea of "criminals" being hermits, and the suggestion that perhaps they were "better hermits" than the professed and consecrated ones. What do you think about this idea?]]

Hi again! As for whether convicts can live as hermits, I actually think this is a great idea, and very edifying in many ways. I have noted before a number of times that urban hermits live in what Thomas Merton called the unnatural solitudes of the city -- that is, in situations that really isolate, alienate, and fragment --- situations that militate against community and wholeness. The job of the urban hermit is to allow and witness to the redemption of these "unnatural solitudes." They are called to allow the grace of God to transform that which isolates and fragments into a place of genuine solitude where the individual grows to wholeness and holiness, and the crowd of the city is, in whatever mysterious way this can occur, drawn into or permeated by the reality of God's Reign.

Until now, I have written about bereavement, chronic illness, and isolated old age as possible instances of "unnatural solitudes" which lead people to discover eremitical calls, but there is no doubt that one of the most radical and intense solitudes that exists today --- and one of the most clearly unnatural --- is the world of the supermax prison. Prisoners in these prisons or in segregated cellblocks of less secure prisons spend 23 hours a day in their cells, often with little to distract or entertain them, much less enrich or challenge them to grow as human beings. Even recreation is a completely isolated activity. On the few programs I have seen about these institutions, the incidence of serious mental illness is terribly high, and all of it is exacerbated (when it is not caused) by the terrible toll this unnatural solitude takes.

I have read, fairly recently in fact, of some prisoners thinking of themselves (and living their lives) as part of a new monasticism. My sense is many could find themselves challenged and fulfilled if they were able to similarly approach each day as part of the eremitical life. Remember that there are distinct external similarities between life in prison and the routinized, often tedious horarium of monks and nuns. Further, they are all lives of hiddenness, and too, lives which society may discount as fruitless or non-productive. In many ways they are penitential and poor lives without access to luxuries, varieties of food which do more than simply nourish, and their cells are often much more austere than the cell of almost any monk or nun. On a more profound level, perhaps, hermits are called to live on the margins as countercultural realities and witnesses, and especially they are called to live a life of esential freedom in spite of limitations and constraints. This is the very nature of authentic Freedom, and certainly therefore, the nature of the freedom Christ brings. How clearly prisoner hermits would represent such a vocation both to their fellow prisoners and to the rest of society!

In considering this possibility it reminds me that Canon 603 binds a diocesan hermit to, "the silence of solitude" --- not as I once misread, "silence and solitude." It seems to me that while physical silence is an important aspect of eremitical life (and contemplative life in general), the reality of the "silence of solitude" is often quite different. This, though also quite rich and marked (in fact, defined) by communion with God and others, is the silence of loneliness (or at least of aloneness even in the midst of a crowd), the silence of the celibate who lives without community, the sometimes painful and difficult silence of life within and from one's own heart from which one seeks not to be distracted. It includes physical silence, yes, but it is more than this, and sometimes exists even without it. It is marked more by one's confrontation with oneself, and by the prayer which accompanies it and in which one brings all this before God. Prisoners often live in the midst of continuing noise, sometimes deafening, but in many (maybe all) prison situations, they can also still live in the silence of solitude. Usually in a prison environment this is clearly unaccompanied by external silence, and this is unfortunate because such silence is ordinarily so necessary, but the challenge of the reality remains (or could remain) as it does for any hermit.

Whether such men and women would be "better" hermits than those canonically professed and consecrated is a relatively meaningless question, I think. Certainly it does not advance the discussion in any subtantive or edifying way. It is true that the witness of these person's lives could speak to some better than other hermits might be able. The contrary is also true. Hermits come in all shapes and sizes and all forms of eremitical life (lay, religious, diocesan) are significant and should be esteemed. So long as each hermit lives the foundational elements of the life and in the particular shape s/he is called to, s/he is as good a hermit as any other. The roles each plays may differ but it does little good to suggest that the diocesan hermit is a "better" hermit than the lay hermit in the next state, or that the prisoner is a better hermit than one who is consecrated according to Canon 603. What IS true is that each hermit will challenge and support others to a truer living out of their individual call, no matter the state of life or the shape of the eremitism involved. Casting the whole matter in terms of better or worse tends to shortcircuit that whole far more healthy dynamic.

I think this whole notion of prisoner hermits needs to be explored in more depth. I also think that looking at what prisoners live daily can assist hermits in clarifying the meaning of the terms and foundational elements of their lives. For instance, looking at the question today has helped me move a little farther along an understanding of the term "silence of solitude" just as did a brief gesture by a married couple at the end of a desert day during my last retreat. The original casting of the idea in qualitative terms is not particularly helpful, but the idea that prisoners might, even temporarily, well be called to be hermits in the midst of one of the world's most difficult and radically unnatural solitudes is a terrific one. Thanks for posing the question!

Postscript. Recently a hermit friend noted that some are called to eremitical life, and others are "only" called to practice an eremitical spirituality. I have not thought enough about the distinction of these two; at times I think the distinction is completely valid and significant, and other times I just don't see it clearly. However, it would be good to see more reflection on the latter (eremitical spirituality) since prisoners in particular could be introduced to this without the onus of labels. At the same time, I think that some very few of those prisoners who are truly going to be in prison for the rest of their lives, for instance, might well represent instances of the hermit vocation which the church would eventually wish to recognize and even celebrate under Canon 603. The majority (however small a number this would be) would remain lay hermits (and still be cause for ecclesial celebration)! Again, hermits are made from the combination of the exigencies of life and the grace of God. A free choice, formation, and commitment would be required --- and I think very great care in discernment necessary, but prison does not exclude this any more than it excludes the grace of God.

The Role of the Diocesan Delegate: Just another Layer of Bureaucracy?

[[Dear Sister, can you say more about the [role of a] "diocesan delegate"? Not only have I never heard of it, but it seems to me this adds another layer of bureaucracy to something that is really defined much more simply in terms of Canon 603 or the Catechism. The person I quoted before cautioned about allowing this kind of thing to happen. What is it? How does it work?]]

Now this is a great question because although the "requirement" of a "diocesan delegate" (if one's diocese goes this direction) does add another level of bureaucracy, it is bureaucracy at the service of the individual hermit, her freedom, individuality, and simplicity --- the characteristics of eremitical life mentioned in your other post.

In my situation the diocesan delegate serves both the diocese and myself to foster the living out of my vocation with integrity and with attentiveness to both individual and ecclesial needs/requirements. The delegate is a superior or quasi-superior who, at the behest of the diocese, assumes this role in a way which allows me regular contact, discussion, discernment, sharing, etc, and which frees the Bishop up for less frequent meetings, consultation in more significant matters only, and so forth. It should go without saying that while Canon 603 specifies the "supervision of the local Bishop" it is a rare Bishop who is able to meet formally more than once or twice a year with a hermit, much less spend regular time hearing how life is going on a day to day basis.

A delegate on the other hand can meet with the hermit regularly, (approximately every couple of months or so depending on schedules), deal with regular issues of discernment or problems which arise, communicate with the diocese in case of need for consultation (in either direction!), and just generally be a more immediate presence whom the hermit can turn to between meetings with the Bishop, et al.

Canon 603 has non-negotiable elements (silence of solitude, assiduous prayer and penance, stricter separation from the world, evangelical counsels, Rule of Life lived under the supervision of the Bishop) but how all these work in the life of an individual hermit (including the shape they assume in her Rule) must be discerned on an ongoing basis which is quite individual. Major changes in the Rule may require the Bishop's authorization (the Bp publishes a decree of approval for the Rule as such), but working all this out over time, dealing with issues of ongoing formation and education, determining what needs to go to the Bishop, and just sharing the joys and struggles of everyday life in solitude in a way which enhances one's accountability for all these is something (at least in my life) one needs and turns to a delegate for. (I suppose in some delegate-hermit relationships the hermit might turn to the delegate for more routine "permissions," for instance, but this particular way of approaching matters is probably very uncommon today and not particularly desirable except by way of exception). So, yes, from one perspective the diocesan delegate is another layer of bureaucracy, but it is a layer which allows for effective interplay between the non-negotiable and more individual elements of the hermit's life. It does not hamper this but encourages it.

By the way, cautions are well and good, but it helps to understand that Canons and Catechism provide the essentials (the legal nuts and bolts) in the Case of CL, or a kind of summary of a situation (or of a teaching, for instance) in the case of a Catechism definition or paragraph. Life is probably never so simple as law codifies, nor a catechism definition or description summarizes.

Followup on the Institutionalization of Eremitical Life

[[Dear Sister Laurel, what I hear you saying is that hermits and their superiors are leading the way in the increased institutionalization of eremitical life and are doing so cautiously and only because lived experience leads to this. You said that love is prior to law. Is that right? Doesn't increased institutionalization endanger the hermit vocation? Is it really necessary to have public vows, rituals, religious and special garb, rings, initials after one's name, etc? Isn't all this elitist and doesn't it conflict with the individualism, simplicity, and hiddenness of the vocation? Also, is it the case that female hermits are forming clubs or groups which maybe they will allow male hermits to join? What is this all about?]]

Thanks for writing again. Yes, you heard me correctly regarding institutionalization (although I don't agree there is really much "increased institutionalization" going on). What there always is is reflection and dialogue about the nature of the vocation and how best to protect, and encourage its authentic growth. What I would stress again in regard to the issue of institutionalization though, increased or otherwise, is the need to maintain a balance between codification and individuality, etc. Generally Canon 603 does this by setting forth the essential characteristics of the life: silence of solitude, assiduous prayer and penance, stricter separation from the world, vows of poverty, chastity and obedience, lived under the supervision of the local Bishop --- as well as mandating a Personal Rule or Plan of Life written by the hermit herself, and all of this for the praise of God and the salvation of the world. (Note therefore that the Canon itself protects the individuality and freedom of the vocation!)

Beyond this, as already mentioned then, individual hermits'(or their Bishops' and dioceses') lived experience continues to inform the contemporary approach to Canon 603, problems will arise, particularly helpful practices or guidelines will be developed, and other things will need to be addressed with norms or precedents (discernment, initial formation and its length, ongoing formation, ministry, etc). Most of these things are simply reflections of what is generally necessary for any person wanting to live healthily and fruitfully as a hermit. The solution to the tension between institutionalization and individual freedom continues to be the interplay between Canon 603, and the individual's own Rule as these are supervised by Bishop, and worked out with one's delegate, spiritual director, etc.

What we are speaking about on a deeper level in these questions is balancing the profoundly ecclesial or communal nature (koinonia) of the eremitical vocation with individual gifts, sensibilities, practices, weaknesses, and desires, or better stated perhaps, finding appropriate and effective ways a very individual vocation's ecclesial nature is best protected and expressed. In turn, this will help the individual and it will assist others in discerning such vocations. Additionally of course, it will ensure that an individual is living a vocation which truly contributes to the salvation of the world --- which is the very heart and reason for the eremitical vocation as it is for any other authentic vocation.

Throughout the history of eremitical life some degree of institutionalization has been necessary to prevent this vocation from becoming merely a refuge for excessive individualism and personal eccentricity, and to ensure that it retains the ecclesial dimension any truly human life or vocation always has. It is further necessary to ensure adequate formation, both initial and ongoing, and to make sure that vocational discernment is seriously undertaken by both the individual and the church. To mention a tiny part of eremitical history which I have noted before, the founder of the congregation I am associated with as an Oblate, St Romuald, was known as a reformer who went around sometimes gathering individual hermits into Lauras, generally giving them the Rule of Benedict to live under, and otherwise making sure they were living genuine eremitical lives and not eccentric, overly-individualistic ones.

Later (again to repeat history I have noted before) other Camaldolese like Peter-Damian continued reforming and reflecting on the ecclesial dimension of all hermit vocations. Sensitivity to koinonia was at the heart of their efforts. Even later, Paul Giustiniani determined that since the establishment of the Church's requirements that all faithful have regular access to the sacraments and so forth, solitary hermits living essentially cut off from these were now invalid. He saw the formation of Lauras as the best solution. Though Giustiniani's concern seems legalistic, it represents increased reflection on the ecclesial underpinnings of any vocation, but in particular, the eremitical call. Bl Paul saw the formation of Lauras as the best solution because Lauras could be established far from inhabited centers protecting solitude and at the same time these would serve to curb all the dangers that beset solitary eremitical life. They provided the mix of community and solitude so essential to even the vocation of the recluse. Throughout the history of the Church the tension between institutionalization and individual freedom has existed. At many points institutionalization served to protect the vocation itself, especially in its communal or lived-within-the-church and for-others dimensions. Once again koinonia is at the core of these hermits' concerns and sensitivities.

Canon 603 is an option which allows hermits the same standing as others with public vows, etc, but without demanding they give up their solitary hermit existence. It seeks to balance both dimensions precisely so hiddenness is eremitical hiddenness and not something else. It consecrates lives marked by the silence of solitude, assiduous prayer and penance, etc while it ensures they are instances of authentic and ecclesial vocations. Further, with some of the symbols you mentioned (ring, garb, ritual), it makes it clear that such vocations are lived in the heart of the church today witnessing to others. Of course it also makes clear that such calls come out of the church's own life, that they are mediated to the individual through God's church and not otherwise.

Certainly there are other options for living the eremitical life in the church today. Religious hermits (Camaldolese, Carthusians, Brothers and Sisters of Bethlehem, some Carmelite foundations, etc) are wonderful examples of one option. And of course, as the Catechism of the Catholic Church makes clear, lay eremitical life is always an option, and one which is less institutionalized than diocesan eremitism. For those who believe that "institutionalization" taints the purity or simplicity of the eremitical life, rather than protecting and enhancing it, this is certainly one way to go. From my own perspective such a path is at times more difficult than diocesan eremitism (especially in terms of perseverence and the freedom fostered by obedience), and in other ways (especially in terms of accountability on many levels), far less demanding. However, both are valid and significant ways to live an eremitical life today.

As for your last question, I really don't know what this refers to. Hermits don't have "clubs" nor are they generally or as a group given to gender bias. If you can clarify the reference for me it would help. Regarding elitism linked to rings, initials, rituals, etc please see other posts I have put up here on these. If these are inadequate, feel free to get back to me.

On the Growing Institutionalization of Eremitical Life

Well, Christmastide is almost over (marked by the Baptism of Jesus) and it is time to get back to some of the more regular things I need to do. Writing here is one of those (writing generally is one of those!), and responding to questions is a piece of that. One person writes as follows,

[[Sister Laurel, I read the following online . . . and wonder if you would comment on the growing institutionalization of eremitical life.]]

[[. . . has noted from internet blogs, articles and updates, that there is a growing trend among some hermits, mostly the canonical approved variety, that some through much wordage and repetition, based upon assumed authority, or even stated expertise, have begun to make regulations by setting precedence. What can evolve are rules, laws, set ways of how this or that must be done, called Precedent Law. Noticed a few Dioceses have bought into it, adopted the regulations and are imposing them. Perhaps without even knowing from whence they came. . . . is reminded of childhood. Something innate in little girls to want to organize, set up and play house, make a club. Sometimes they can find a little boy or two to come and play with them. Tell him what to do, and some do it. He is the daddy or baby brother to the little girls' house roles. Lots of rules. Do this. Do that. I'm the mommy. Do as I say.]]

My first response is this is a pretty cynical and simplistic (not to mention offensive) way of looking at what is happening in terms of eremitical life, and in particular, diocesan eremitical life. It reflects a rather common notion of the way law is related to life which should NOT be carelessly generalized. So, is there growing institutionalization? Yes, perhaps, but it is neither extensive nor particularly intensive at this point. If it exists it is also quite slow-growing, which I consider a good thing in the main. Canon 603 and the life it describes is an instance of this. Bishops have been, and continue to be, cautious with this vocation and that is generally a good thing. Do hermits themselves contribute to it to some extent? Yes, but usually with gritted teeth, ample cautions regarding the freedom and diversity of eremitical life, and with heels dug in to prevent these from being seriously transgressed against by over-legalizations and codifications. Most hermits will completely resonate with Dom Jean LeClercq's definition of the hermit life, "the hermit is the person who, in the church, is united to God with a minimum of structure." With canon 603's creation and implementation the trick was and still is to allow for sufficient institutionalization (which helps ensure a genuinely ecclesial vocation) while allowing for the simplicity and essential freedom of the life itself; everyone I know (of) is aware of and careful of this. So where does this move towards "greater institutionalization" currently come from --- at least as far as I am aware?

It seems to me the Church is beginning to have a larger number of canonical hermits with lived experience of Canon 603, its strengths, weaknesses, and essential values as lived out in the contemporary church and world. Because of this lived experience hermits inform their Bishops (or, if they have other ways of communicating, others who are concerned with consecrated life in the Church) of what is working, what is not and how things can be improved upon, what is absolutely necessary for the life, what variations are legitimate, which variations seem to be illegitimate in a general sense, what is prudent or not, etc. For the most part all of this comes from what the hermits themselves have found to be the case, what they are actually living on the ground, and particularly what they are living with the assistance of the Holy Spirit and the Church's own monastic and eremitical traditions in dialogue with the 20 and 21st centuries. It does not, on the other hand, tend to come from Rome, or from the hierarchy more generally as an imposition from above or outside the life itself. It certainly does not come from women hermits needing to be "Mom" or to fulfill "house roles", etc!

One area that comes to mind which seems to call for greater institutionalization or formalization (though cautiously, VERY cautiously), and one I have written on before is that of formation of hermits. I have said that hermits are made out of the exigencies of life and the grace of God (remember Merton said hermits are made by difficult Mothers and the grace of God). However, a part of both of these is the personal formation an individual is responsible for getting or participating in on a lifetime basis. What I have noted about this in the past is that dioceses do NOT form hermits. They recognize and evaluate (discern) vocations when they come through the door of the Office of the Vicar for Religious, et al. They may also assist a person in getting further formation by referring them to communities who have agreed to help, seminaries who provide such, spiritual directors, etc, but in no case that I know of do dioceses take a complete novice to eremitical life and "form them" as hermits. Again, what dioceses tend to find (and something I have written about from my own experience) is that in some essential sense the person must be a hermit when she walks through the chancery door to petition for admission to vows under Canon 603.

Because this is the case, lots of questions are raised. Some include: what formation is necessary? Can anyone be a hermit even without formation? How does an individual achieve the necessary formation? (Must they be part of a religious community for some time, for instance?) What is required? Where is it best achieved? Who pays for it (the answer is ALWAYS the hermit herself unless she is part of a congregation for some of this time)? What happens if a person has no resources available to them? What is adequate formation for eremitical life and what is not? What happens to needs for therapy (if this is an individual need), direction, etc and how do these figure into the discernment of a vocation? To discernment about the quality of continuing in this vocation? How about ministry in the limited ways hermits may undertake ministry apart from their life of prayer: what constitutes adequate formation here and how is it undertaken? Who oversees all this: before profession? After perpetual profession? What is the Bishop's or diocese's role in all of this? What role does a "diocesan delegate" serve and is it a necessary role in assisting both hermit and diocese in fulfilling the demands of Canon 603 and this vocation?

Note well though, again, all of these questions are imposed or raised in the living of the life itself. They are not imposed or raised from the outside as though they are not intrinsic to the living of the life, or as though they reflect some legalistic or disciplinary mindset which merely likes to multiply requirements, for instance. Further, no diocesan hermits themselves are imposing such "regulations" on anyone. Hermits and their Bishops find that given certain prudential practices the hermit vocations they have experience with are good (exemplary, joyful, etc), and that without taking the time to be certain of these prudential practices or requirements, the vocations that have resulted can be a greater cause of scandal and disappointment.

Another area that comes to mind is length of time required before first profession or until perpetual profession. What is really generally necessary because of the nature of the vocation itself? How will this differ from person to person and why? The Canon does not spell this out and the canons for religious life do not fit eremitical vocations as neatly as one might wish --- though they are important considerations. Therefore, in general, what is a reasonable period of time for 1) living as a lay hermit before petitioning for profession? 2) temporary profession, 3) preparing in a conscious and discerning way for perpetual profession? Lived experience says that some dioceses have not allowed enough time in this entire process and so, have been imprudent, while others, for various reasons, have extended the time frames inordinately and perhaps harmed or at least endangered vocations in the process. Because of this it is true that hermits inform their Bishops (et al) regarding their own experience in this, while dioceses assess their own experience, and the result may be a precedent being set as a general guideline. Again though, the precedent stems from lived experience; it is not merely imposed from outside by someone with a bent for control, etc.

A third area that raises questions and calls for Bishops and Hermits both to answer on the basis of lived experience is ministry (or work) outside the hermitage (or apart from the strictly legislated elements of the vocation). Everyone needs to know that eremitical life involves a spectrum from complete reclusion to limited ministry and even work outside the hermitage. However, what is really legitimate and what is not if a person is to truly be and remain a hermit? Precedents are set here on the basis of a lived experience of hermits who grow in their appropriation of their vocation, or who caution against certain things because it really does seem to hinder or prevent such growth. Precedents are not set arbitrarily by lawyers or hermits with a penchant for legalism or control.

For instance, the Canon (603) defines the vocation in terms of "stricter separation from the world." It does not say absolute reclusion. It does not say, "no outside ministry." At the same time, it does recognize that the silence of solitude is primary and that this along with stricter separation from the world and assiduous prayer and penance demands one actually be open to being called to greater and greater degrees of reclusion, if God wills that at any point. Because of this a diocese might adopt the precedent that all outside ministry should be evaluated regularly to be sure the hermit's life is truly one where the silence of solitude and stricter separation from the world (etc) are foundational and not secondary to ministry. It is lived experience which serves as the basis for such a precedent.

Finally, it should be noted again that hermits also make sure their Bishops hear what is necessary to ensure the flexibility and freedom of the hermit life. What should NOT be legislated? What cannot be effectively legislated except in the hermit's own Rule or Plan of Life? Where should rules (as opposed to a Rule or Regula) give way to lived experience in a way which leads to exceptions being made? What are common instances of this? Again, as I have written before, ordinarily in the Church law serves love ---- or is certainly meant to serve love. This means love of God, love (in this case) of the eremitical vocation and tradition, love of the Church as People of God, love of consecrated life and the vows that serve freedom in this life. It is generally up to diocesan hermits and their superiors to determine law which works in this way and no other. At least with regard to Canon 603 the precedents I have seen and heard hermits speak and write about tend to be guided by this concern and this priority --- which translates into a concern for the integrity and charism of the vocation. In any case, control (or, as your poster noted, "an innate [desire] to organize," etc) is usually pretty far from the hermit's heart and mind.

I hope this helps. If it raises more questions or is unclear I hope you will get back to me.

Rule Of Benedict, January 1, May 2, September 1

Three times a year Benedictines read through the rule of St Benedict and tomorrow we begin anew. The tone is patient, the advice wise and measured. It is a good way to begin the new calendar year (and for me it is wonderful that the third time through begins again on my own birthday). In every way I get the impression that it is fine to begin anew. On a holiday when people are formulating resolutions, this passage from the prologue to Benedict's Rule strikes just the right note I think --- not only for our own spirituality, but for the world which so badly needs us to be what Saint Benedict describes.


January 1, May 2, September 1

Prologue

L I S T E N carefully, my child,
to your master's precepts,
and incline the ear of your heart (Prov. 4:20).
Receive willingly and carry out effectively
your loving father's advice,
that by the labor of obedience
you may return to Him
from whom you had departed by the sloth of disobedience.

To you, therefore, my words are now addressed,
whoever you may be,
who are renouncing your own will
to do battle under the Lord Christ, the true King,
and are taking up the strong, bright weapons of obedience.

And first of all,
whatever good work you begin to do,
beg of Him with most earnest prayer to perfect it,
that He who has now deigned to count us among His children
may not at any time be grieved by our evil deeds.
For we must always so serve Him
with the good things He has given us,
that He will never as an angry Father disinherit His children,
nor ever as a dread Lord, provoked by our evil actions,
deliver us to everlasting punishment
as wicked servants who would not follow Him to glory.

Alleluia, Alleluia!! Hodie Christus Natus Est!

The scandal of the incarnation is one of the themes we neglect at Christmastime or, at best, allude to only indirectly. Nor is there anything wrong with that. We live through the struggles of our lives in light of the moments of hope and joy our faith provides and there is nothing wrong with focusing on the wonder and joy of the birth of our savior. There is nothing wrong with sentimentality nor with all the light and glitter and sound of our Christmas preparations and celebrations. For a brief time we allow the joy of the mystery of Christmas to predominate. We focus on the gift God has given, and the gift we ourselves are meant to become in light of this very special nativity.

Among other things we look closely at the series of "yesses" that were required for this birth to come to realization, the barreness that was brought to fruitfulness in the power of the Holy Spirit. The humbleness of the birth is a piece of all this, of course, but the scandal, the offense of such humbleness in the creator God's revelation of self is something we neglect, not least because we see all this with eyes of faith --- eyes which suspend the disbelief of rationality temporarily so that we can see instead the beauty and wonder which are also there. The real challenge of course is to hold both truths, scandal and beauty, together in a sacramental paradox.

And so I have tried to do in this symbol of the season. This year my Christmas tree combines both the wonder and the scandal of the incarnation, the humbleness of Jesus' estate in human terms, and the beauty of a world transformed with the eyes of love. Through the coming week the readings are serious (massacre of the holy innocents, a warning about choosing "the world," and so forth --- all interspersed with reminders that darkness has been unable to quench the divine light that has come into our world, and the inarticulate groaning which often marks this existence has been brought to a new and joy-filled articulateness in the incarnate Word. Everything, we believe, can become sacramental; everything a symbol of God's light and life amongst us; everything a song of joy and meaning! And so too with this fragile "Charlie Brown" tree.

All good wishes for a wonderful Christmastide for all who read here, and to all of your families.

Fourth Week of Advent, 2009

All the Nations Shall Proclaim his happiness! (Ps 72:17)

Tomorrow's Gospel is the Genealogy of Jesus according to Matthew. It is not unusual to have our eyes glaze over as this is read in Church. If we have to read it ourselves, we may scan the passage as we read along to find out just how much longer this goes on, how many more unpronounceable names we have in front of us! If we are particularly creative we may focus on the individual names and see how much OT history we recall. Feminists are apt to focus on the few but significant women's names included here quite against the tradition of such genealogies! Judith, Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, and Mary are all mentioned --- important because they are women of ill-repute, irregularity, or barrenness graced by God in a way which makes them pivotal in both divine and human history. A very few will be excited by this long recital of somewhat familiar but mainly alien names, but generally, the genealogy is a challenge to listeners and preachers. What, after all, did Matthew intend here? Why did he construct this list in such a carefully theological (and historically inaccurate) way? What does he want us to hear?

The thing that strikes me most about this lection is the plan of God it outlines, and especially the patience with which God carries this out. Throughout history men and women have responded in greater and lesser ways and degrees to the Word and will of God. History is the story of the intertwining of divine and human destinies and in the Christ event all this comes to a climax. In Jesus divine and human histories are inextricably wed. God allows us to participate in his very future. He profoundly desires us to be a living part of that future. All throughout history he affirms and reaffirms that he has chosen not to remain alone; that, if we will only not refuse him, he will be our God and we will be his people. This is God's will and destiny. It is also quite literally his delight and joy!

There is a reason I hear this in tomorrow's Gospel. About 25 years ago I was struggling with quiet prayer. There comes a point in contemplative prayer marked by a letting go, and sometimes by a shift in consciousness and awareness --- a kind of altered state of attentiveness. I found, unfortunately, that some parts of this point or process reminded me of the sensations that accompanied the loss of consciousness and/or control preceding or accompanying the beginning of a seizure. Thus, as I approached this moment in prayer I found myself becoming frightened and I refused or at least resisted letting go and giving myself over to the prayer (and so, over to God's activity within and around me). One evening, I was working with my spiritual director and in order to help me through this, she held out her hands and asked me to rest mine on hers. Then she instructed me to just do what I would ordinarily do in approaching contemplative or quiet prayer. I did and immediately went deeper than I had perhaps ever gone before. God was waiting (indeed, he was really leading) and he was completely delighted! He "said" to me (silently but really), "Finally! I have been waiting SUCH a long time for this moment!" There was not a smidgin of recrimination, no blame, no reference to sin or to disappointment or sadness in my regard. God's joy was unalloyed and revealed his very nature in this and his complete patience.

I think we sometimes forget this side of things. Partly it is because we focus on ourselves in prayer, and partly it may be because we were taught some version of God's impassibility. But really, it is rather like something that always strikes me about the Sacrament of penance. We all know that this Sacrament is a gift --- that in it we receive the grace of mercy and forgiveness, love, support and encouragement. How often do we pause to ponder the gift our confession is to the confessor? And yet, that is one thing that is often very clear when we receive the Sacrament today. Similarly then, we rightly emphasize that God gives himself to us, that his love, mercy, and forgiveness are gifts to us, but how often do we regard ourselves as the gifts which God himself has patiently but ardently desired and waited through the aeons to receive? How often do we see God working unceasingly through generation after generation after generation just for the Word only we can speak and become in response, for the gift only we can become and give in gratitude and joy? How often do we consider that God is truly delighted with this gift --- whatever its condition or history? How often do we stop to reflect on the truth that, in fact, he desires nothing so much as this and, in some mysterious way, will be incomplete without it?

Christmas is the season marking the nativity of the One in whom both human and divine history reach their goal and climax. It has been long in coming, engineered and directed with infinite patience and desire despite all of the human resistance and refusal God has also endured. Tomorrow's Gospel marks all of this dramatically, but in a way which challenges us to hear with new ears what is most often a deadly dull wholly uninspired recital. On Christimas, we will celebrate the fact that God entrusts his Son to us --- fragile, weak, powerless and wholly dependent; God looks to us to mark the climax of a long preparatory history and reciprocate with our own lives. My prayer is that each of us can approach Christmas with a sense of just how ardently God desires and delights in the gifts we make of ourselves --- and of course, that, with God's assistance, we can find the courage to let go past our resistances, doubts, insecurities, fears, and guilt, and commit ourselves into the arms of an overjoyed God.

A Closed or Hardened Heart: The Essential Blindness

I wrote this for last Friday, but didn't get it posted there in time. I am putting it up here instead for the time being.

Today's Gospel is sometimes trivialized. We think perhaps that people were upset because Jesus was some sort of "party animal" and that they contrasted that with the asceticism of John the Baptist and other prophets only to take exception to Jesus --- as though the Scriptures are really contrasting two different approaches to spirituality. But what Matthew is getting at in today's Gospel is that very often we are unable or refuse to see with the eyes of our hearts, and we therefore reject the very revelation of God that stands in front of us --- no matter the guise. We act childishly by refusing to admit either our needs or to humble ourselves in a way which allows God to respond to them as he wills (rather than as we will!). We neither repent nor do we celebrate God's presence in true faith; instead we concern ourselves with conforming the world (and the God who is its creator and Lord) to our own (often religious) demands and expectations.

Jesus has just finished a long exposition comparing and contrasting himself with John the Baptist. He is speaking to his own friends, family, and neighbors (Bethsaida is a center of Galilee and so, a center of Jesus' own home-life). And, as always, his speech is honest and challenging! He is reminding them they thronged out to see John and have now rejected him precisely because he WAS what they were supposedly looking for, and he does so by putting some sharp questions to them: What did you expect to see? A reed blowing in the wind? (Did you go out looking for someone tossed about by the wind of current fashion and concerns, or were you looking for something less transitory?) Did you go out seeking someone dressed in the clothes of nobles and Kings or someone dressed as a prophet, a true desert dweller and messenger of God? Were you seeking a prophet or not? Jesus completes his series of questions by affirming that indeed John the Baptist was precisely what people were looking for, and more in fact --- the greatest of the prophets and the forerunner of the messiah! And yet, a fickle people turned away from John and said he had a demon instead --- the surest religious way to denigrate and dismiss someone and the most effective way to be sure others don't follow him!

At the same time, Jesus has come with news of the arrival of the Kingdom of God and acts accordingly. No mourning ascetic He celebrates with his disciples by feasting and drinking! And so, his friends and neighbors label him a drunkard and a glutton --- an accusation, we should remember, a Son's family could accuse him of to Temple officials in order to have him stoned to death! [There was a precise formula in this matter and we read it today in Deuteronomy. The parents would come to the Temple and say, "This son of ours. . ." and accuse him of being a drunkard and glutton, disobedient and willful. If the charges were sustained, the Son would be put to death.] The fear was that through his disobedience, etc, this Son would bring evil upon Israel and perhaps even show himself to be a false prophet who would lead her seriously astray. Better deal with such a person in a preventative and definitive way than risk such damage!

Jesus uses the story of children at play with make-believe games to characterize the immaturity and hardness of heart of those he is addressing, those he calls, "this generation." He describes two groups of kids, one who tries to get the other to join in the games, and one who simply will not. The first group plays the wedding game and pipes a joyful tune, but the second group stands off refusing to be moved by the music, the song, or the comraderie. When this fails, the first group switches to the funeral game and sings a dirge --- something perhaps more appropriate to the second group's mood, but again, the second group of children are recalcitrant and simply refuse to be moved or join in. It is hard to imagine a symbol of something which is able to move us more completely than the music at either a wedding or a funeral. One form moves us to dance and the other to deep sorrow. This music speaks to our hearts, that is, to the core of ourselves and to that which symbolizes our whole selves in Scripture. And yet, John the Baptist came preaching repentance, moved by mourning over a badly sinful people, and was rejected by many of those Jesus now addresses as being moved by Satan. Jesus himself came "piping a song" -- so to speak -- of celebration and tremendous joy, and he too is labelled a false prophet, demon-possessed (later also in Matt), a danger to authentic religion, and set up for execution!

But perhaps there is one thing which moves us to open our hearts even more than the music mentioned: the birth of a baby, the appearance of an infant swaddled in his parents' arms or trundled around in a stroller. I don't think I have personally ever seen someone incapable of being moved by a newborn baby --- though of course there are stories where humanity's worst attrocities are marked by a hardness of heart to even these most helpless and fragile among us. In the NT we have the story of the massacre of the innocents. In contemporary history we have slaughters and holocausts which seem never to abate. Still, when I reflect on the Feast of the Nativity of Christ which we are each preparing to celebrate it seems clear that a huge part of our God coming to us in this way is God's desire to touch our hearts, break them open anew and rescue us from any essential blindness that afflicts us. Advent gives us readings which echo John the Baptist's "piping of songs" of repentance and mourning intertwined with Jesus' "tunes" of celebration and feasting. Christmas gives us the birth of an infant meant to break open even the hardest of hearts with gratitude and wonder so that we can begin to consider and shape our lives according to a God whose power is truly perfected in weakness.

Will we resist or join in wholeheartedly? Will we remain untouched and blindly cynical as the children in Jesus' parable, or will we "play the games" and dance to the tunes of authentic faith which allows God to reshape our lives as his true children and people of real vision? Will we see what stands right in front of us or turn away uncomprehendingly? My prayers to all for a good Advent as we each continue to prepare our hearts for the coming anew of such a surprising and challenging God!

Revisiting the Question of Disedifying (reactive) Withdrawal

[[Dear Sister, for someone already professed as a hermit, are the dangers of withdrawing for negative reasons as strong as the danger of getting too involved (for instance, in parish life)? I wondered because your post on reactive withdrawal seemed to indicate this was the case.]]

Thanks for the question! Once one has, with the Church herself, discerned a vocation to be (and especially been professed as) a diocesan hermit, the danger of removing oneself from the solitude of the cell is more dangerous. In my experience, if one has discerned a vocation to eremitical life in this way then the major danger --- choosing solitude because one is withdrawing in a reactive or disedifying way --- shifts or changes. One's vocation, everyone now agrees, is mainly to remain in cell and live out one's solitude in this way. One does this because God calls one to this primarily. That is really the defining characteristic of the eremitical life. The temptation one faces more usually is now more that of leaving the cell for insufficient and disedifying reasons.

However, for the hermit who also finds herself called to some limited degree of parish ministry, it can happen that she might "duck" some legitimate challenges of the active dimension of her life for less than legitimate reasons. The need to discern what is happening remains, but now the presumption is that one is generally called to remain in cell and if one errs in discernment, one should probably err on this side of things. The burden of discernment shifts so that one must be more careful about justifying reasons to leave her hermitage. Note that the need to be able to discern one's motives has not changed. What changes is the perspective from which one decides. In my original post I was addressing the question of discerning the reasons one may feel drawn to solitude and noting that one should be aware that not all reasons are good ones or indicate a vocation to solitude -- especially to eremitical solitude. With regard to your question, the person has already discerned such a call and done so with the Church's assistance and approval. I hope this helps. Again, good question.

"Gaudete" by Karl Rahner

[[As the Autumn season fades and the Winter takes over, the world becomes still. Everything around us turns pale and drab. It chills us. We are least inclined to hectic activities. More than in other seasons of the year, we prefer to stay at home and be alone. It is as if the world had become subsued and lost the courage to assert its self-satisfaction, the courage to be proud of its power and its life. Its progressive growth in the swelling fullness of the Spring and Summer has faded, for the fullness has vanished, In this season, time itself bears eloquent witness to its own poverty. It disappoints us.

Here is the moment to conquer the melancholy of time, here is the moment to say softly and sincerely what we know by faith:"Gaudete, let us rejoice. I believe in the eternity of God who has entered into our time, my time. Beneath the wearisome coming and going of chronological time, life that no longer knows death is already secretly growing. It is already here, it is already in me, precisely because I believe."

Time is no longer the bleak, empty, fading succession of moments, one moment destroying the preceding one and causing it to become "past," only to die away itself, clearing the way for the future that presses --- itself already mortally wounded. Time itself is redeemed. It possesses a centre that can preserve the present and gather itself into the future, a nucleus that fills the present with the future that is already effected, a focal point that coordinates the living present with the eternal furure. The advent of the incarnate God, of the Christ who is the same yesterday, and today, and in eternity --- this advent has penetrated into this time that is to be redeemed.

A "now" of eternity is in you. And this "now" has already begun to gather together your earthly moments into itself. For into your heart comes the One who is himself Advent, the Boundless Future who is already in the process of coming, the Lord himself who has already come into the time of the flesh to redeem it.]]

From The Eternal Year, by Karl Rahner

Advent 2009, Week Three

Belated Good Wishes for Advent!!

Well, here it is, the end of the second week in Advent and I have added nothing to this blog except a picture for the first week! Life here at the hermitage has been fine. I have spent a few days cleaning out stuff I have accumulated over the years (mainly books and papers, but other things as well!) and still have some ways to go! My apologies to readers though! Sometimes preparing the way for the coming of Christ means getting rid of stuff and that takes time and energy away from other things.

This preparation happens on a number of levels of course, but it is amazing what material things can represent for us. The clearing out of stuff can be done prayerfully and when it is, that includes a period of remembering what was, what we dreamed of and hoped for, what we clung (and perhaps still cling) to for security or sentimentality, or that we just hold onto because we don't know what else quite to do with it! It can include gratitude for the present --- for the healing and love others have brought one to, and commitment to reflect more fully whatever vocation God has graced us with. All in all it is a challenging and compelling project, worthy of the beginning of Advent or Lent, and certainly worthy of the attempt to prepare oneself for a deeper and more complete dependence upon God and trust in the future he has opened for us.

Belated though this is, I wish readers a wonderfully fruitful Advent! May it be a time of preparation to meet anew and afresh the God who comes to us in weakness and who is found in the unexpected place. May it also be a time to look at the baggage we each carry around with us, and may we commit ourselves to letting go of whatever we no longer need and which serves merely to weigh us down in our journey to follow the poor Christ!

First Sunday in Advent 2009

Reactive Withdrawal vs Responsive Anachoresis: Followup Question

[[ Dear Sister Laurel, could you give some examples of the difference between reactive withdrawal and responsive anachoresis? I think I understand what you are saying but I want to be sure. How do hermits become aware of the difference? When you say one is edifying and one is disedifying what do you mean?]]

Yes, I can try to give some examples. Let's say a person does not do well with people and just withdraws from their presence to ease the discomfort of being in company. That is probably reactive withdrawal. Or, for instance, someone is having a bad day and is feeling depressed so they withdraw; that too could be reactive rather than responsive. If someone gets angry and walks away from a situation rather than staying and working it out, that is likely to be reactive rather than responsive. Or if one simply does not desire to deal with the complexities of society, withdrawal can be reactive. In each of these cases, one reacts to a situation and stimulus (anger, depression, dislike, fear, lack of desire, etc) by pulling or walking away. Their withdrawal is not a centered act of their whole person which is rooted in thoughtfulness, generosity, or love. In each of these cases withdrawal is a means of unconsidered almost instinctual escape from a stimulus, even if the escape later to be understood to have been a prudent thing which protected others from one's acting out one's anger, etc.

On the other hand, responsive anachoresis is precisely withdrawal undertaken not as a reaction to some noxious stimulus, but instead is chosen out of love, generosity, and with reflection. One withdraws in this way because God calls one to do so, because solitude is life-giving to oneself and others, not merely because it is protective or simplifies the situation. In this form of withdrawal the act is not a reaction, but a response. It is not so much withdrawal from life or challenge in an unthinking stimulus-response way as it is a considered and thoughtful withdawal for the sake of life and challenge. It is a response to God's invitation, God's will that life prevail over death and meaning over meaninglessness.

When I say that hermits need to be able to discern the difference in their own lives I mean simply that we each feel the pull of situations both like those in the first paragraph, and those in the second. We need to be able to discern the distinction. (In the following examples I am assuming that one has truly discerned an eremitical vocation for the right reasons, not as a matter of reactive withdrawal. With this as a given I can focus on everyday discernment.) For instance, on a given day I may feel punk and wish to lay low (and, whether rightly or wrongly, I can always justify doing so on the basis of my vocational state) but I may feel genuinely called to go to the parish for Mass and morning coffee. On another day I may want badly to go to Mass and coffee, but feel that what is really God's will for me at that time (what is more lifegiving and important) is to remain in cell. In each case one action is reactive and one is responsive. In the first situation staying in is reactive withdrawal; in the second what I have described (staying in cell despite what I want to do) is responsive anachoresis. The problem, of course, is hermits can justify withdrawing for the wrong reasons fairly easily, and this would be a serious mistake in discernment. Because we sometimes feel both God's call, and the urgings of anger, depression, loneliness, etc at the same time, we can be either responsive or reactive. Telling the difference is not always easy and the situation may be ambiguous, but we need to work to be able to discern properly.

In a time when the hermit vocation is finding more adherents and many others who like to think of themselves as hermits, and when the stereotypical hermit is one who runs and hides from reality, we have to be really clear on the difference between reactive withdrawal and responsive anachoresis. Only the latter drives authentic eremitical vocations.

When I say that one thing (reactive withdrawal) is disedifying, what I mean is that such behavior does not build up the Body of Christ, does not serve the Gospel of Freedom, and does not bring light or life to the Church or world as a whole. (For instance if we merely react to anger, tiredness, depression, we remain in bondage to these powers in our life. This hardly builds up the Body of Christ.) When I say that something is edifying I mean the opposite: that is, it does build up the body of Christ, it does serve the Gospel of Freedom and its proclamation, and it does bring light and life to the Church and world. In particular responsive anachoresis says that God is always with us, always available to us, is able to transform even our most bitter moments with his love and mercy. It says that freedom to choose redemption in the face of bondage is possible at every point in our lives. It says that solitude is something other than mere isolation, something communal and ecclesial, something whole-making (i.e, sanctifying) and salvific. And for this reason it says to those who cannot choose other than physical isolation, that this can be redeemed and be a source of life and genuine freedom for the one isolated and for the whole world.

Excursus: By the way, I didn't note this specifically, but it should be seen that hermits can be reactive not only in withdrawing, but in running out to do errands, have coffee with parishioners, etc. One of the important aspects of eremitical stability is to learn to discern when love calls one to remain in cell and when it calls one out. Most of the time, one is called to remain in silence and solitude out of true obedience and love. In either case it is not simply what is loving, but what is most loving (and most serves the will of God in charity) given the state of one's life. As I have said before, in eremitical life the most difficult choices, I have found, are not between good and evil, but between competing goods. However, the main point is that withdrawal or the decision not to remain in (physical) solitude can both be either reactive or responsive. Again, the hermit must be able to discern which is which in her own life at any given point in time.

Exclusion or Inclusion: How is God truly Honored?

Today's Gospel is the continuation of a series of stories in which Luke describes what happens when Jesus is invited to dinner. He is dining with Pharisees and for them it is a decidedly uncomfortable occasion. Jesus has brought them to a point of crisis or decision; he has challenged them far beyond their social or religious comfort zone, and he has asked them to change the way they behave towards others in absolutely fundamental ways in order to really do the will of God. You may remember, he has just finished rebuking them for asking friends to dinner instead of the poor and disabled, that is for seeking honor and avoiding shame by asking to dinner those who could reciprocate (and so, give further honor) rather than those who could not. He affirms that if they behave as he demands they will find their reward at the resurrection of the just.

At this point, the point where today's Gospel begins, one of the Pharisees (I imagine him as the parish armchair theologian or the believer who rejects social justice as having anything to do with the gospel or with Church per se!) burbles on with, "Blessed is he who eats bread in the Kingdom of God." In other words, he tries to divert the focus from the here-and-now demands Jesus has made to a far more comfortable and pious reflection on heaven and the eschatological banquet --- as though that was the real thrust of Jesus' instruction thus far!

But Jesus will have none of it. Instead he tells another parable which sharpens the demands he has already made of these Pharisees; he intensifies the crisis they face, and refocuses attention onto their present meal practices. As Robert Farrar Capon puts the matter, [[(Jesus) launches straight into a story which bumps his hearers off the bus bound for the heavenly suburbs and deposits them back into the seediest part of town!]] (Parables of Grace, p 131)

The story Jesus tells is of a Master who invites guests to a great feast, and who, in the ordinary scheme of things, is shamed when those who are "worthy" of attending refuse his invitation for religiously acceptable reasons. As a result he sends his servants out in two different forays to actively seek out those who are seen as unworthy of attending the feast. The progression is significant: first the servant seeks out the disabled and poor or oppressed. Then, the net is cast wider to the prostitutes, pickpockets, tax collectors --- in general the social riffraff of both town and country. According to usual standards the attendance of none of these would bring honor to the Master. Rather, it would shame him --- as would his actively seeking them out. But in choosing to bring them into the feast and sending servants out after them, the parable serves to criticize and subvert the foundational honor/shame value-system of his society. On this basis alone Jesus' story would be shocking to his hearers.


But there is another dimension which gives Jesus' choice of substitute guests an added importance --- and an added impact --- an even greater shaking of the foundations on which the Pharisees' reality rests. Remember that the Essene community of this time celebrated meals which anticipated the eschatological Banquet just as our own meals, and especially our own Eucharists anticipate this. The Essenes, as was true of many Jews in Jesus' day, saw themselves as participants in a holy war against sin and evil and to help ensure God's victory in this they stressed the importance of freedom from ritual and moral impurity. As a result certain people were ineligible to participate in community life, and especially in community meals. These included the lame, blind, crippled, paralyzed, and otherwise afflicted (never mind prostitutes, thieves, collaborators and tax collectors, etc)!! The basic religious strategy for winning this "holy war" was exclusion. This separatist strategy was one the Pharisees and most Jews also adopted with regard to the world around them --- at least if they wanted to worship as Jews.

Jesus' parable, however, overturns this basic religious stratagem as well. It is not just the foundational social structure and mores Jesus turns on their head, but the religious ones as well. What matters to the Master in Jesus' story (as Luke tells it) is that his house be filled, his feast be celebrated and enjoyed. Where that is done he is well and truly honored. As Paul has been telling us throughout Romans as well, God's strategy for dealing with evil is inclusion, not exclusion, participation in, not isolation from. Our God is one who himself goes out into the hedgerows to seek out and bring the unworthy back with him. He searches for and welcomes the ritually and morally impure, the godless and despised. (And yes, he of course sends his servants out in the same way!) He is honored only when NO ONE, and no part of ourselves, is excluded, only when those who cannot reciprocate and have nothing to offer on their own are brought into the feast. Our God is the One who brings all of us, each and every broken and unclean sinner of us, into the community of Christ so that he may love us into wholeness and holiness. That is our God's strategy for dealing with evil! This is the way he conducts a holy war!

Today in the Church there is a movement afoot to create a "leaner, meaner, purer" remnant community of "faith." If there is anything today's Gospel teaches with a startling vividness and a stunning contemporaneity, it is that such a church has nothing to do with the Gospel of Jesus Christ. An emphasis on purity and exclusion may work in some areas of the world (not the only example, certainly, but bioweapons labs come to mind here!), but not in terms of the God Jesus reveals to us, and certainly not in terms of any reality we would be courageous (or honest) enough to call the body or Church of Jesus Christ!

Question on Horarium and the Divine Office

[[Dear Sister, I see from your horarium that you do not pray the minor or little hours of the Office. Why is that? Aren't you obligated to say the whole Office?]]

Good questions. I pray (usually singing) four of the Hours of the Divine Office, Lauds, Vespers and Compline and Vigils. (Vigils may be done in the middle of the night or a little before Lauds.) Between those periods I either work, study, or pray in other ways (including Mass or Communion services, lectio divina, and contemplative prayer). I will also run errands, take meals, or rest during some of those times. For me personally, I find that pausing to do the little hours fragments the day rather than helping me to pray better or make a prayer of my life. I tend to work better (especially if I am writing (including journaling) or studying) if I have a couple to several hours of dedicated time. Except for the work I do on computer this all occurs in cell so it is done in the presence of the Eucharist. That presence becomes a touchstone at those times especially. For that reason too I don't feel the need to pause to do the little hours, and my horarium is divided into blocks of time which are punctuated by the four main hours of the the Office.

As to what I am obligated to, the short answer is no, I am not obligated to say the whole Office. My Rule of Life includes the four hours I mentioned above. However, if I am away from the hermitage for some time (errands, trips to the City, etc) I will sometimes pray the minor hours while on the train. (Sometimes I will simply use a small bracelet of prayer beads I wear and pray the Jesus prayer as I look briefly at each person on the train with me and pray for them.) At those times the little hours do indeed help me to maintain a sense of quiet and continuity with the hermitage cell, but again, I do it because it functions for me in this way, not because I am obligated to do so.

Hope this is helpful.

On Lemons and Lemonade Revisited

[[Sister Laurel, Your posts on the time frame for becoming a hermit (On Lemons and Lemonade, etc) seem to be saying that young candidates for eremitical profession and consecration need not apply. Is that true? Canon 603 doesn't say anything about age, does it? Are there age requirements with regard to profession under Canon 603? How old were you when you considered you had such a vocation?]]

No, I am not saying that exactly, but there is no doubt that I believe it will be a rare young person from an exceptional life situation that would discover such a vocation at their own relatively young age. It tends to be recognized that eremitical vocations are associated with the second half of life. However, some of the things that affect us in the second half of life and suit us for eremitical solitude, or suggest that the door of solitude has indeed been opened to us as an invitation to enter do happen to young adults. When this is the case a young person might well find themselves called to eremitical life. In such a case, eremitical life in community (Camaldolese, Carthusian, etc) may NOT be open to the person, and solitary or diocesan eremitism might well be the avenue they should pursue.

Canon 603 per se does not mention age at all, however other canons do deal with age requirements (how old MUST one be at least --- there is no maximum age limit) for admission to vows and these would apply to the case of someone approaching a diocese for admission to vows under Canon 603. The point at issue is not chronological age really, but life experience and circumstances sufficient to nurture a vocation to genuine eremitical life. One should be an adult and capable of sustained self-discipline. One should have acquired sufficient education and religious formation to be able to educate themselves further in whatever way they need as well as to sustain them in the day to day tedium of solitude. One should be self-motivated and independent, and I think, one should not be in the blush of "first" conversion to Christ. Faith should be mature, a way of life for the person --- growing and developing still of course but --- not a new experience and especially not untested by the exigencies of life.

When I first considered that perhaps God was calling me in this way I was @34 years old. I had done most of my academic theological work and had been finally professed in Community for 8 years. I had lived with intractable chronic illness which was medically and surgically uncontrolled and chronic pain for at least 16 years, and I had worked in various ministries including hospital chaplaincy as well as in clinical lab and neurosciences. Getting all this to fit together neatly was not easy and was mostly a struggle. In 1983 the Revised Code of Canon Law came out with Canon 603. For various reasons it intrigued me, but I knew very little of eremitical life and frankly esteemed it even less. I began reading about it though and one of the first books I read was Dom Jean LeClercq's Alone With God. It was helpful in convincing me that eremitical life was something valid and even quite special --- even in the contemporary world. It also kept me reading. I then read Merton's Contemplation in a World of Action and was electrified by it and his vision of eremitical life. I began to live consciously as a hermit as a result, read and learned more about it, wrote about it, continued growing in it, and 24 years later was perpetually professed as a diocesan hermit under Canon 603. I celebrated my 58th birthday the day before that profession.

So, while I thought of myself as young at 34 yrs, I suppose I was not really so young. I do believe that solitary eremitical life is not generally a vocation for young persons. Circumstances can make for exceptions, of course, but by definition such a vocation would then be "exceptional". One should note that I have referred throughout here to the solitary eremitical vocation. The vocation of the religious hermit, that is the hermit who lives and is formed in community, is a different matter and probably admits of more young vocations than diocesan eremitism. I hope this helps.

Anachoresis vs unhealthy Withdrawal

[[Dear Sister, could you say more about the terms "reactive withdrawal" and "responsive anachoresis" in your last post? I get the idea one is positive and the other negative, but why is one reactive and the other responsive?]]

Hi. I have written in the past about withdrawal as a negative reality and in those posts I offset this against the Greek term, anachoresis the state or act of retiring or withdrawing. Anachoresis is the form of withdrawal associated with monastics and hermits. From it we get the term anchorites: those who are connected to a local church or convent and practice an intense stability of place (living in a single room there off the altar, etc) while still remaining accessible to others in limited ways and degrees via use of a window or grill, etc. By extension anachoresis refers to the withdrawal of hermits and recluses, and not just to anchorites. As I understand this act of withdrawal it is a positive thing which is meant to serve communion with God and with others. Because of this, and particularly because it is a withdrawal which is done in obedience to the call of God in our lives, I have spoken of it as "responsive" rather than reactive.

Reactions and responses are different things after all! We react to stimuli in an immediate, relatively unmediated, and even unthinking or instinctive way. When we are acting up to our potential as human beings we respond to others in a thoughtful, loving, reasoned and generous way with not just some part of our nervous or limbic system dominating, but with our whole selves. Responsiveness can allow us to overcome merely self-protective or selfish impulses and lead to kenosis (self-emptying) and a life lived for others no matter the cost. Reactive "mechanisms" in our lives are more defensive and do not tend to involve the greater awareness of the needs of others (or sometimes the greater needs of our own selves) as human beings; they are, I think, more primitive --- a matter of the preservation of the organism we are and less a matter of attending to the demands of our humanity per se than genuine responses.

Because I recognize and appreciate this difference, I refer to "reactive withdrawal" as the kind of withdrawal from the environment which is defensive or the way we respond to the world when we are clinically depressed or perhaps ridden with anxiety and excessive fears (phobias) for instance. It is a reaction to stimuli, not a response of the whole person to the address and needs of God, another person or even our truest selves. Important as it can be in certain danger situations, apart from these it is less than worthy of the human person than is an obedient response, and this is especially true in the contemplative or the hermit. I distinguish the two this way precisely because while they can look the same superficially (they both involve withdrawal and physical solitude) they are radically different acts (that is, they differ at their very roots). What is difficult is the way they overlap in the lives of sinful human beings. Because they do, those who would be hermits have to learn to discern the difference and be sure their eremitical lives are governed by the responsiveness of a relatively mature and edifying anachoresis, not the reactivity of a more primitive and defensive withdrawal which is disedifying.

I hope this helps!

Mental Illness and the Vocation to Eremitical Life

[[Dear Sister, when you have referred in the past to "nut cases" wanting to be hermits, are you speaking about the mentally ill? Could and should the mentally ill (a form of chronic illness, after all) be hermits?"]]

This is a great question and points to a place I should be more careful with my language. Thanks for implicitly pointing that out! In fact, no, I am not speaking primarily about the mentally ill, at least not in any generally diagnosable way. In referring to "nut cases" I have generally been speaking about people who want to be hermits because it validates a kind of strangeness and anti-social bent in them. Sometimes this phrase simply means these people are bizarre and feel that eremitical life is the same and thus gives them permission to remain as bizarre as they wish. They are not so much concerned with discerning a vocation which is divine in origin or edifying to others as they are seeking a way to enshrine and institutionalize their own personal mental and emotional idiosyncracies and eccentricities.

Especially they are often seeking a way to validate their own misanthropy, excessive or distorted individualism, and sometimes even a kind of selfishness and narcissism rather than looking for a way to love God and others effectively. When their motives are more positive and valid, it is sometimes the case that eremitical life will witness to the wrong things in this particular life, and so, not be edifying --- that is, it will not build up the Body of Christ or be sufficiently prophetic in the contemporary world. Now, let me be clear. Sometimes such persons may well ALSO be mentally ill, but this is not the main concern I was expressing when I have referred in the past to "nut cases."

The next questions are also quite good and more difficult to answer. Mental illness comes in many different forms and degrees of control and stabilization. My general answer to the first part of your question is yes, some mentally ill persons COULD be hermits, but not all and not most. Regarding the second portion of the question, those that COULD be hermits are those whose illness is well-controlled with medication and whose physical solitude definitely contributes to their vocations to wholeness and emotional/mental well-being. There should be no doubt about this, and it should be clear to all who meet them. It should assist them in loving themselves, God, and others rather than detracting from this basic responsibility. In other words, solitude should be the context for these persons becoming more authentically human and maturing in that fundamental or foundational vocation for the whole of their lives. With this in mind I am thinking too that some forms of mental illness do not lend themselves to eremitical vocations: illnesses with thought disorders, delusions, hallucinations, fanatical or distorted religious ideation, and the like are probably not amenable to life as a hermit.

On the other hand, some forms of mental illness or disorder would (or rather, could) do quite well in an eremitical setting so long as the anachoresis (that is, the healthy withdrawal) required by the vocation is clearly different from that caused by the illness and does not contribute to it, but instead, even serves to heal it. Certain mood disorders, for instance, cause a defensive or reactive and unhealthy withdrawal, but it is not the same as the responsive anachoresis of the hermit. The person suffering from clinical depression who also wishes to be a hermit should be able to discern the difference between these two things and this requires a lot of insight and personal work. However, if a person suffers from clinical depression (or has done in the past) I would say it should be pretty well-controlled medically, and no longer debilitating or disabling before the person is allowed to make even temporary profession as a diocesan hermit. At the same time, provisions for adequate ongoing and emergent care and treatment should be written into this hermit's Rule of Life.

In any case, I think the decision to become a hermit when mental illness is a factor is something which requires the candidate and her spiritual director, psychiatrist or psychologist, and the diocesan staff to work together to discern the wisdom of. Mental illness per se should not always automatically preclude this vocational option, but there is no doubt that eremitical silence, solitude, prayer and penance can exacerbate rather than help with some forms of mental illness. Even in the completely healthy person eremitical solitude can lead to mental problems. Ordinarily we are made for a more normal type of communion or social interaction with others, and this is a particularly significant area for caution when dealing with mental illness. This is another place where some years spent as a lay hermit, especially under direction and regular and effective medical care, are especially helpful in discerning a vocation to eremitical life -- if initial permission to pursue such a thing is deemed wise at all. So, once again, thanks for your questions. They are quite good and, among other things, remind me to take greater care with language.

Question on Chronic Illness and Urban Eremitical Vocations

[[I have degenerative disc disease, diabetes and asthma. I spend most of my time at home (alone) and use a wheelchair when I go out. Could you please elaborate on the relationship between chronic illness and the life of an urban hermit?]]

Thanks for the question. Please do look up earlier posts on this topic, especially the original article published in Review For Religious. I think those will really help you. You can do that by looking at the labels listed in the upper right sidebar and clicking on the appropriate links. Those posts will flesh out the brief response below.

For most people chronic illness results in some degree of dislocation and isolation. Sometimes this is extreme, sometimes not, but the basic root of the problem is the same in any case: the rest of the world simply does not move to the same tempo or rhythm nor do they share the same concerns or limitations. Further we live in a world in which worth is measured by productivity, what we do, what we earn, how successful in these terms we are, how educated, how active in civic and church affairs, et cetera. Because a person with chronic illness often simply cannot measure her life in these terms (or does so and comes up only with "failure" as the mark received) this also is especially isolating.

Now, isolation is not the same as solitude but it does call for redemption. It is meant to be transformed (at least in many cases and in the life of the hermit) into solitude. What I mean by this is that one central reality that remains to all of us when life robs us of other values, abilities, activities, relationships, and so forth is our God and the possibility of a relationship with him. That relationship is capable of redeeming all other loss and completing us as human beings; it is, afterall what we are made for. If we enter into that relationship wholeheartedly what was isolation becomes transfigured into solitude. Solitude is an expression of communion with God and eremitical solitude (a solitude which is more radical and extensive) is something that chronic illness can predispose us to embracing.

Likewise, the gospel gives us a set of values which are countercultural. Not only does Scripture teach us that we are precious to God no matter our success or failure in worldly terms, but discipleship is marked by "the great reversal" --- that is, what the world values is not the same as what is valued in the Kingdom of God. Success in the Reign of God is measured differently and not in terms of productivity, earnings, power, prestige, etc, as it is meaured instead in terms of self-emptying and one's faithfulness to God's call. Even more it is measured in terms of God's grace, freely given and received. The first shall be last, the last first. Those who allow themselves to be gifted by God will be first and richer than those reject God's gifts and attempt instead to wrest things from God's hands by the measure and tools of the world's judgment and success. Few people are in a better position to give the countercultural witness of the disciple of Christ than the chronically ill are.

What I am talking about here is not eremitical life, however. It is a vocation to be chronically ill within the church and world, a prophetic witness that human beings are precious for who they are, not for what they do, how much money they make, how much power they accumulate or exercise, etc. I believe that all chronically ill are called upon to give this kind of witness and that they can do it with a vividness and depth which few others can match. However, of these people who are chronically ill, SOME will also be called to eremitical life. These persons will, in their relationship with God, allow isolation to be transfigured and transformed into genuine solitude and the silence of solitude which serve as the context, goal, and charism of their lives. They will witness to all the things any person with a vocation to chronic illness with witness to and additionally they will say with their lives that "God alone is enough for us." They will witness to the essential wholeness and abundant life that comes from communion with God in Christ, and they will remind the rest of the church and world with a special clarity and power that we are all on a journey towards something far more lasting and fulfilling than this world with all its seductions and false promises --- and also, of course, that this reality is present and accessible to some extent right now interpenetrating our world with its presence.

Chronic illness is not ordinarily part of the eremitical life per se but for a relative few I believe that chronic illness will point to and predispose a person to embrace an eremitical call. In terms of urban eremitism this will specifically be a call to witness to the redemption of those unnatural solitudes which so characterize life in cities, the life of illness, bereavement, and old age marked by separation and lack of connectedness. Urban hermits (whether lay or consecrated) will witness to the redemption of such unnatural solitudes generally, but the hermit who is also chronically ill will do so, again, with a greater vividness and depth.

I apologize for the brevity for this response. It is more an introduction than anything else. Still, I hope it does help and even that it will raise more questions for you!