What Should I Do Next? On Becoming a Diocesan Hermit

[[Dear Sister,
I went to my diocese this week to see about becoming a canon 603 hermit. They told me to "go away and live in solitude". They said that I don't need to be professed or consecrated (their word) to be a hermit. But I want to be a canonical hermit and I think God is calling me to be this. What do I do now? Can I move to another diocese that would accept me?]]

Hi there! I have written about this topic a fair bit here, so please check the labels below and to the right. See under formation of a lay hermit, time frames for becoming a diocesan hermit, ecclesial vocations, diocese-shopping, and similar topics. I will not repeat everything I have said in those posts, but perhaps I can summarize briefly.

If you have not ever lived as a hermit (which is not the same as simply living alone, even a generally pious life merely alone), then living as a lay hermit for some time is necessary before a diocese will even consider you a serious candidate for profession and consecration under canon 603. While this is not the only reason dioceses tell people to go off and live in solitude, it is a major one, for often people who have never lived in solitude approach chancery personnel with the expectation that the chancery will turn one into a hermit. Hermits are made in solitude; more importantly, solitude (which, again, is not simply being alone) must, as Thomas Merton put the matter, open the door herself to the would-be hermit. To find out if this will ever happen one must live in physical solitude and more specifically, in and towards what canon 603 calls "the silence of solitude" for some time before 1) one can discern whether one is called to eremitical life as a life commitment, and 2) whether this is to be lay or consecrated eremitical life. In other words, "just living in (physical) solitude" is a necessary (and minimum) element of discerning a vocation and the church must know that you have done this and in fact have reason to believe that it is your own personal way to human wholeness and holiness or they really mayn't profess you.

Secondly, canon 603 eremitical life represents an ecclesial vocation which means in practical terms that one CANNOT discern such a vocation alone. The Church herself must also discern the truth of the matter and call you forth from her midst. She must agree to publicly profess and consecrate you in a way which extends both rights and obligations which are not yours otherwise; she must, in fact, participate in the mediation of God's own call to you herself, or that call is not real (yet) in your life. You may seriously desire this, and you may be correct that God is calling you to some form of eremitical life, but in other words, until the Church agrees and mediates this vocation to you through her own actions and liturgy one has NOT been called to be a diocesan hermit. You MAY live as a lay hermit as a result of your Baptism. You have every right to do that (and actually, you are obliged to do that if you discern it is what God is calling you to for the time being) but on your own you cannot assume you are called to diocesan eremitical life.

So, what do you do? There are a number of things which are either necessary or prudent. 1) You must embrace an eremitical life (I am assuming you are not married, do not have children, or other obligations or encumbrances which prevent this) and live it to the best of your ability; part of this process will be getting used to thinking of yourself as a hermit and acting to structure your life and relationships as a hermit would. 2) You must be working with a spiritual director and continue doing so for the remainder of your life as a hermit of whatever type. This is non-negotiable. 3) It would certainly be advisable to check with the person you spoke with at the chancery and see if they are open to the vocation at all (some dioceses are not), and also whether they are open to meeting with you again in a year's time and then again in another year, etc, IF you continue to feel you are called to diocesan eremitical life. Much will depend on the answer they give to these questions and I am assuming at this point that they will be answered positively. 4) read all you can on eremitical life, on canon 603, on the vows, etc --- and especially read contemporary sources, commentary, the documents of Vatican II on religious life, etc. 5) Consider all the forms of eremitical life we have today, religious (communal), lay, and solitary (diocesan) as potential contexts for your life and see which one calls most to you and why. As I hope you can see, these are mainly things which will help you whether you are called to an ecclesial vocation under canon 603 or not.

Regarding moving to another diocese, my recommendation at this point in time is that you not even consider that so long as your diocese is open to the vocation generally and will meet with you again in the future. In such a case doing so can demonstrate impatience, a lack of commitment to monastic/eremitical stability, perhaps represent an unwillingness to be obedient in the best sense of that term, indicate you are more enamored with an image of the life than the life itself, and so, on a purely practical level, will generally result in "shooting oneself in the foot" with the diocesan personnel and Bishops of the dioceses involved.

Do keep in touch regarding your journey. Meanwhile I hope this is helpful.

Another Snapshot of Life in the Hermitage

[[Sister Laurel, in the pictures of your hermitage you have a lectern in your chapel. Why is that? Do you have people come in to pray with you? I know the Carthusians make certain gestures or use certain postures even in their cells as well as in church. Do you do that when you pray? Do you wear your cowl at home or only in church?]]

Thanks for your questions. The lectern (ambo) in the oratory is used when I pray Office because I like to chant or sing it. It is easier to do this while standing, and even moreso with a lectern (ambo) so I can have more than one book open at a time and not have a problem flipping back and forth. It is completely movable so I shift it from the center of the space in front of the tabernacle off to the side at other times of the day or when I am praying quietly for instance. I do not have people come over to pray here (though I do pray with people who come over --- if that makes sense), and my own room (oratory) is generally off-limits to guests or clients. There are a couple of exceptions here --- people who are welcome in any part of the hermitage at any time.

Regarding certain gestures and postures, I do use some of the ones always used for church or for Office: a profound bow when entering the room, or at the first part of the Doxology, for instance, signs of the cross at usual places, genuflections or profound bows when opening or closing the tabernacle, and so forth. Occasionally I may use prostration, but (unlike the Carthusian usage) that is very rare and entirely spontaneous. As for the cowl, I use it for Office or Communion services and sometimes for quiet prayer and lectio in the hermitage. It reminds me that this place is not really my own and that what I do I do not do only for myself or in my own name. Otherwise, though it is not a liturgical garment per se, I also wear it for any liturgical/prayer function at the church.

Hope that helps.

Eremitism, A Life of Continuous Vigil

Perhaps it is the focus of Advent with its emphasis on preparation and waiting, but I came today to see my life specifically and eremitical life more generally as one of vigil --- and continuous vigil. Whether the time in cell is obviously fruitful or marked by darkness and seeming emptiness, whether one turns to prayer with joy and enthusiasm or with resistance and depression, one waits on the Lord. One spends one's time in vigil.

Now this is ironic in some ways because despite loving prayer at night the Office of Readings which is also called "Vigils" has never been my favorite hour and this last two years I have substituted another way of spending the time before dawn which has been very fruitful for me. The time from 4:00am to 8:00am has been one of vigil but it consists of quiet prayer, Lauds, and writing with some lectio. A Camaldolese nun mentioned her own monastery (and the one I am affiliated with as an Oblate) treating these same hours as a time of vigil and I very much liked the idea. I did not know that it would define both my day and my life, however.

There is something amazing about living in a way which is not "just" obedient (open and responsive) to the Lord, but which is actively awaiting him at every moment.(Yes, these are intimately related, but not always practiced that way.) The heart of Benedictine spirituality is the search for God. When candidates for Benedictine monastic life arrive at the monastery, the goal they are expected to affirm is the search for God. This is the defining characteristic of the authentic monastic life and a significant point of discerning a vocation. We can hear that phrase as emphasizing an active, even desperate attempt to find something that is missing from our lives, or we can hear it as a process of preparing ourselves to find the God who is immanent in our lives and world at every point. In the latter case our lives become a vigil to the extent they are transformed into something capable of perceiving and welcoming this immanent God.

Another central Benedictine value is hospitality, and there is no doubt it plays a very significant part in this perspective. While we ordinarily think of hospitality as offering a place for guests who come to the monastery or hermitage in search of something, we should extend the notion to God. All of our prayer is a way of offering hospitality to God; it is a way, that is, of giving him a personal place to stand in our lives and world. While God is omnipresent and the ground of the truly personal, he does NOT automatically have a personal place in our lives. Like someone whose name we do not know, he may impinge on our space, but until we call upon him by name and give him a place he cannot assume on his own, he will remain only impersonally there. And so, in prayer we call upon him by name ("Abba, Father"), we carve out space and time for him, we give him permission to enter our lives and hearts and to take up more and more extensive residence there. We offer him friendship, hospitality, and we structure our lives around his presence. We continually ready ourselves and look for him just as we look for a best friend we expect any time and thus our lives become a vigil.

For hermits, whose whole lives are given over to God in a focused and solitary way, vigil is simply another description of the environment, goal, and gift (charism) of eremitical life we refer to as "the silence of solitude." Those four hours before Mass or Communion in my daily horarium define the characteristic dynamic of the whole of my life --- at least when it is lived well! It is a vigil which requires the silence of solitude (i.e., external and internal silence and solitude), leads to the silence of solitude (i.e.,communion with God), and gifts the world with it and all it implies. During Advent especially I think the call to make something similar of our own lives is extended to every one of us in a special way.

First Sunday of Advent, 2011

Well, it is the first Sunday of Advent and I am feeling a mixture of excitement, trepidation and all of the other things that tend to come along with beginnings. I have to say I love the sense of new opportunities, a chance to "begin" once again in one's relationship with God and to one's faith even if that beginning is "just" another turn in the spiral of deepening communion. Ordinarily each day gives me the sense of such a new beginning, a sense that there will be fresh experiences, insights, and surprises ahead, but it is wonderful to have beginnings and times of preparation built into the liturgical year.

Each day, each week, and each year we are able to remind ourselves that Jesus needs to be allowed to reveal himself to us on his own terms. He comes as a human being and reveals divinity (and what it means to be human!) exhaustively by entering every moment and mood of human existence. It is a literally incomprehensible mystery and so each day, week, and year the dynamic repeats --- "Let me show you again," Jesus says, "deeper this time, more fully; let me invite you into my story so that you truly make it your own. Listen!! Let's begin at the beginning so that you can bring yourself in new ways, fresh and surprising ways as I call to you in my nativity, my hidden life, my public ministry, my death, resurrection, and my ascension so that in your response you become part of MY story as well --- so that you love with me, minister with and even to me, pray and suffer with me as I do with you."

Any real achievement takes preparation and Advent is such a time for us. The opportunity to begin anew is a gift of God. We rarely get such a chance otherwise, for without the grace (mercy, forgiveness, healing, and offer of new life) of God we are condemned to move ahead dragging our failed broken lives along with us. We might try to repress or forget all of this "stuff" of our lives, but without Christ and the power of the Holy Spirit that will be either illusion or delusion. Yet with Christ and in the rhythm of liturgical time we can truly begin again. As I wrote last year, in Christ the future (where God is our absolute future) draws us forward and into itself. Whether that means a totally new beginning or the freshness of new opportunities for deepening and radicalizing our faith and lives, Advent invites us to conversion and so too, to a new chapter in our relationship with God and our deepest, truest selves.

For me, the focus in all of this this year will include growing in my participation in Christ's own life and story in a much more conscious way. My spirituality has most always, I think, focused on allowing him to participate in my story, to be "God with (me)." But, I have become aware that I have not really been open to seeing the truth of things from the other perspective, and I really need to do that!! (Parts of what sometimes pass for "suffering with Jesus" spirituality are not healthy and so I have eschewed them; I am not speaking of those here.) But friendships are really reciprocal and while I have allowed Jesus to be friend to me, it has not always made sense to me to "befriend" Jesus and to really be an integral part of HIS personal story, though it is, in many ways, the essence of discipleship. There is lots for me to think about in all this, and also significant places in my own heart which are touched by this perspective differently than with my more usual point of view. Excitement and trepidation. Trepidation and excitement. To become (more consciously) part of Jesus' own story. What an awesome invitation!! I love new beginnings -- whichever form they take!

Ad Multos: What are we affirming in the New Old Translation?

The theological problems with the new translation of the Roman Missal have already begun to surface and we have not even officially begun using it. One of these involves the Missal's affirmation that Christ was sent to and died for "many" as opposed to the term "all" we have been using for the last decades. One priest commented in an article on the changes that he would not pray heresy and would not use the formula referring to Christ's mission to save many as opposed to all. I sympathize with him; he is correct on the serious theological implications of this change in an English speaking world.

With regard to this change in wording I think we must be aware of the fact that in the original Semitic languages there was no discrete word for "all". Instead they referred to the many which constituted the whole, and the emphasis was thus on the multitudes this involved, not on a single whole composed of a possibly sparse number. (Readers of Scripture or any literature are familiar with the use of metonymy or synedochy (a special form of metonymy) --- where a part may stand for the whole. This is at least similar.) Greek (Koine), on the other hand DOES have a word for (the) all and a different one for (the) many; when the NT authors wrote or taught in Koine, the word used was literally (the) many, but again, given the context of the original writers, speakers and hearers, it meant the multitudes which compose the WHOLE of mankind which were affected by the life, death, and resurrection of this one man, Jesus. However, when the Scriptures were translated into Latin we moved definitively away from this entire context and the term ad multos came to mean the many as contrasted with the whole.

Today (and whenever the Semitic context is lost --- as, for instance, in our naive adoption of Latin or translations of merely formal equivalence!) we normally and unthinkingly use "many" in contrast to all. Thus, in the process, will have changed the sense of the original: namely, the whole composed of the many (or of multitudes and multitudes). Additionally, since Latin does not use separate definite articles, what could have been translated as "the many" --- which at least has a sound of synedochy and the ability to symbolize the whole --- is instead eventually translated into the English, "many," and the contrast with "all" is strengthened. Theologically, this indeed constitutes a heterodox notion of the scope of Jesus' mission and a serious misstatement of the Gospel his life embodies.

Of course we absolutely must not pray or proclaim heresy. Jesus did not die for many AS CONTRASTED WITH ALL. He died for the multitudes (the many) which in fact both represent and constitute the whole throughout all time. This is one of those (in this case, wholly impossible and tragic) "catechetical moments" the hierarchical church is using to sell the new translation. It is impossible because 1) we will not be able to improve on using "all" to convey the theological truth of the matter while 2) people will automatically (and mistakenly) assume they know what "many" means. Pastors, catechists, others absolutely must know and communicate the fact that Jesus died for THE many (not many) and more, that "the many" refers to an ALL which is composed of MULTITUDES!

Consecrated Virginity, Response to Sponsa Christi's Author

I had heard from several people that Jenna Cooper of the Sponsa Christi blog has responded to the series of posts I put up on Consecrated Virgins and what I have called a vocation to consecrated or sacred secularity back in September-October. Since then I have had time to read Ms Cooper's post on the matter a couple of times now and I appreciate the time she took to put it together --- especially given the fact that she is newly studying Canon Law in a language she has never studied until now. Unfortunately, I also found the response disappointing in several ways, and a bit frustrating as well. I am going to limit this response to those main points.

It was a bit frustrating because Ms Cooper never actually quoted me directly. She depended instead on characterizations of what I said and why, and she got some central things wrong; she also treated theological, canonical, and historical conclusions as "presuppositions" and "assumptions". However, because she didn't quote me directly, responding to these mischaracterizations with any specificity is frustratingly difficult. I understand that the blogosphere is not necessarily the realm of scholarly discussion, but I don't think one has to be a scholar to respect an interlocutor enough to actually quote what one contends or disagrees with. One vague but significant assertion Ms Cooper made was especially troubling in preventing any specific response.

She wrote: [[I don’t think it would be possible for me to respond to every point Sr. Laurel makes in her series on consecrated virgins, especially since it seems that we may disagree on some very fundamental philosophical and ecclesiological premises (such as the inter-relationship between a person’s identity and his or her concrete actions and choices, the nature of the Church as an institution, the role of the hierarchy in relationship to the Church’s charismatic dimension, and the objective theological superiority of consecrated life.]] I could respond that I am personally surprised to hear Ms Cooper believes there is an acceptable disjunction between one's identity and one's concrete actions and choices --- especially for those with ecclesial vocations (though I would be even more surprised to hear someone suggest I believe this!!), or that she doesn't believe the hierarchy has a significant role in relation to the church's "Charismatic dimension," or even that she doesn't accept the institutional as well as the charismatic nature of the People of God, for instance, but I suspect this is not what she was trying to say. So, specific citations are important, both for understanding, accuracy, and out of simple courtesy and respect.

In any case, Ms Cooper's response was also disappointing in some significant ways as well; these include:

1) a failure to cite relevant legitimate and authoritative texts as fully as needed, especially where they disagree with her own position. Similarly Ms Cooper dismisses expert commentary out of hand as non-authoritative --- apparently because they are not de fide teaching. (There are a number of degrees of authoritativeness which must be recognized in ecclesial documents --- sometimes co-existing within the same document. We need to be clear what level of authoritativeness we are demanding.) Further she asserts that [[no one can read the authoritative documents on this vocation and come away with a sense that it is a secular one]] --- despite a plethora of evidence that members of the USCCB hold a contrary position, theologians and canonists write about it and come to different conclusions, or that the USACV generally seems to hold this view. The problem is familiar: Ms Cooper reiterates her opinions but does not support them with specific citations, expert commentary, common Episcopal or Papal opinions and praxis, etc. A mere handful of examples of the numerous passages Ms Cooper neglects or dismisses include:

a) a passage from the homily of the Rite of Consecration of Virgins Living in the World which reads: [[Never forget that you are given over entirely to the service of the Church and of all your brothers and sisters. You are apostles in the Church and in the world, in the things of the Spirit and in the things of the world.]] (Ms Cooper cites the first part of this statement, but fails to cite or address the emboldened portion.) Now it should be noted that even if the phrase "living in the world" merely means "not in a monastery" in the very restricted sense Ms Cooper asserts (an assertion I and others disagree with), even that is, if it merely locates the virgin superficially as outside a monastery and simply proclaims she is not a nun, the highlighted phrase from the homily in the rite clearly refers to being not only a sacred person, but a secular one as well. With the phrase "the things of the world" it points to all the areas a person living in the world works out her salvation (family, business, politics, economics, etc) and indicates a complete giving over both to the things of the spirit and to the things of the world. It is a significantly qualified secularity, of course, but secularity nonetheless.

For instance, Religious men and women --- even apostolic or ministerial religious are never commissioned to be apostles "in the things of the world," and of course hermits are called to stricter separation from the world so are even less called to any form of secularity. These persons' vows significantly qualify their relationship with the main dimensions of the world, power (obedience), economics, etc. (poverty), and relationships (celibacy) and thus reflect a canonical and real separation from the world; however they are certainly not necessarily living a more consecrated life than CVs living in the world. Such consecrated virgins, on the other hand, are not canonically called to a life which is "separated from the world." They are absolutely set apart by and FOR God, but this is not identical to being called to separation from the world; rather, for those called to be CVs living in the world, it is a call to a complete involvement with and in it --- though clearly and unambiguously from the perspective of a consecrated person who shares in a special way in the the spousal, virginal, and maternal love characteristic of the Kingdom of God. I don't know if Ms Cooper ever deals with this particular phrase of the homily ("in the things of the world") at other places in her blog, but I know she does not do so in her response to my posts, and that is certainly disappointing.

b) admonitions of John Paul II which include, [[On this meaningful occasion, I am happy to stress some fundamental directives that can guide your special vocation in the Church and in the World.]] or [[According to the Apostle, the virgin “gives her mind to the Lord’s affairs and to being holy in body and spirit” (I Cor 7:34). She seeks “the things that are above, which Christ is, sitting at God’s right hand” (Col 3:1). And yet this does not estrange [her] from the great values of creation and from the longings of humanity, nor from the suffering of the earthly city, from its conflicts and from the sorrows caused by war, famine, disease, and the wide-spread “culture of death.” Have a merciful heart and share in the sufferings of the brethren. Commit yourselves to the defense of life, the promotion of women and respect for their liberty and dignity.]] There is a clear sense here of being about the things of God right in the midst of the earthly city (Saint Augustine's term and a synonym for the world). It is, as I have already written, a paradoxical presence where one is present within this world, not estranged from it precisely because one is concerned with the things of God and more, because one lives the fundamental charism of virginal, spousal, and maternal love precisely in a context which needs this unique gift of the Holy Spirit.

c) an example of a certificate of consecration which reads: [[Virginem vitam saecularem agentem (i.e., a virgin living in the world). . .]] Note that the qualifying vitam saecularem is not really necessary if there is no significant distinction between the life of the cloistered nun who is consecrated as a virgin and that of the consecrated virgin living in the world. If this distinction is merely a matter of identifying superficial locations, the qualifying phrase would be omitted in a certificate of consecration since the vocations would be identical for the cloistered nun or the virgin living in the world and need not be specified. This suggests to me that the Church sees "vitam saecularem" as a significant qualification (or expression) of the foundational vocation to consecrated virginity.

d) However, much more compelling I think, is the article by Sister Sharon Holland, IHM, "Consecrated Virgins for Today's Church." This document was written by a (now) former "capo d'ufficio" or section chief with the congregation for religious (CICLSAL) --- meaning Sister was the third highest member of this curial department only behind the Cardinal and any Bishop with decision-making power (this authority is tied to ordination so being a Religious woman and the next one in line is no small matter); it should be clear that this article can hardly be dismissed out of hand. Even if one disagrees with Sister Holland's positions, one needs to contend with her article on its own terms (historical, liturgical, theological, etc) rather than simply dismissing it as unworthy of serious or considered attention.

Touching on just a very few points of this article, it affirms variously, [[Over the centuries, the use of the rite of consecration was quite completely reversed becoming common in monasteries of nuns with solemn vows and gradually disappearing from use among women remaining in their secular condition. By the time of the Lateran Council II (1139). . . the practice of consecrating women living in the world had ended]] Note well that this historical fact destroys Ms Cooper's argument that CV's living in the world were proto-nuns. In fact, other sources besides Sister Holland's are clear that there were 2 distinct rites of consecration in existence until this time, one for women living in the world, and one for nuns. In other words CVs from the first 3 centuries didn't simply develop into the cloistered vocation. This was one charismatic expression that developed, but the secular charismatic expression continued alongside it for another 8 centuries. Thus, the Code of Canon law 1983, and the revised Rite of 1970 (which specifically dropped vesture with a habit) are ways of recovering the distinctly secular (and consecrated) vocation of virgins living in the world which was wholly lost around the 12th century. Nothing less, nothing other.

Sister Sharon Holland, IHM, also reminds us: [[The Canon speaks of service to the Church "in harmony with their proper state." As has been seen, their state is of publicly consecrated persons in the Church and as persons who have received that consecration as individuals, remaining in their secular condition.]] In concluding her article, Sister notes, [[In 1996, the consecrated virgins also found their place in the post-synodal Apostolic Exhortation, Vita Consecrata (N.B., this is, of course, an undeniably authoritative document) . . .[where the Holy Father adds], "Consecrated by the diocesan bishop, these women acquire a particular link with the Church, which they are committed to serve while remaining in the world." (VC 7)]] Sister Holland explains something of the meaning of this sentence in the following, [[. . .Consecrated virgins may be working as university professors, parish secretaries, nurses or pastoral ministers; they may be working purely secular jobs during the day and volunteering their services in a variety of charitable works on behalf of the sick, elderly, handicapped, or homeless in their time off. Wherever they are, they will be present as one consecrated, bearing witness to the love of God for all, made visible and mirrored in Christ's love for the Church.]]

Another disappointing area of Ms Cooper's response is 2) a complete failure to deal with the heart of the theological argument which grounds my opinion in the paradoxical and, through consecration, the highly qualified secularity of the consecrated virgin. (In regard to this last point, Ms Cooper sees consecrated life as mutually exclusive with secular life (except perhaps in the case of secular institutes, though she is unclear on this) rather than as a call to a redeemed and even a perfected form of secularity which reflects the Sacramentality and transcendent origin and goal of the created order, and which, for that very reason, has much to offer the world pastorally and prophetically. She writes, [[If consecrated virginity is indeed a vocation which calls one to be more “consecrated” than “secular,” no amount of pastoral need is going to change this fact.]] or again, [[ Therefore, every area of consecrated virgins’ lives should revolve unambiguously around the direct service of the Church and intimacy with God in prayer. Given this, consecrated virgins would therefore NOT ordinarily be called to be Christian witnesses in politics, purely civil affairs, the secular professional world, or the business or financial community.]] One has to ask what, for the Christian, is ever a purely civil affair given our belief that the Kingdom of God is a present reality realized within and through the things of the world. One also needs to ask if Ms Cooper's hypothetical here, "If they are called to be more "consecrated" than "secular", can be legitimately assumed (much less demonstrated!) to be true. Again there are other conclusions possible and I would argue they are theologically more cogent and compelling.

Further, while I have already cited Sister Sharon Holland's article on the diversity of ways consecrated virgins are at work in the world, I think one has to emphasize that no where in the Rite of Consecration does the Church specify that direct service to the Church (meaning working full-time in a parochial position of some sort) is the unambiguous focal point of one's life. God is this focal point, and clearly the Church is important in this as is service to the Church, but Ms Cooper's assertion conflicts with the Church's own position on this matter which she affirms by consecrating women living in the world in the fullest sense of that term. (If the Church did not mean these women to live a form of sacred secularity it would be necessary to require they adopt a different way of living BEFORE consecrating them. Discernment of the vocation, at the very least, would require this. Integrity of witness and life would require it. Thus, in consecrating women living in the world with all that entails as a consistent and normative pattern of praxis, the Church officially says this is a secular vocation at the same time it is a consecrated one.)

With regard to this second area of disappointment then, Ms Cooper does not address arguments rooted in Christology (for instance, the notion that Christ was paradigmatically secular in the life he lived even as he incarnated God exhaustively and thus witnessed to transcendence at every moment and mood of his life), sacramentality (most especially the sense that the world is meant function as a Sacrament of God's presence, just as Jesus' life and death did), eschatology (especially as it relates to our hope for a new heaven and earth, or to God's reconciling work in becoming all in all), missiology (especially the way a mission to the world and in the things of the world qualifies a charism), nor the difference between a more Greek way of thinking (thesis, antithesis, synthesis) and Christian paradoxical perspectives (cf my post on the paradox of sacred secularity). Neither does she deal adequately with the implications of the Church's liturgy and consistent praxis. I have already written about these things so I will not reprise them here.

Finally, I found it disappointing that 3) Ms Cooper's notion of charism was static and dismissive of the changing historical or pastoral situations or dimensions. Related to this I admit to being completely dumbfounded that Ms Cooper denied there was any pastoral need for the secular witness of Consecrated virgins. As she wrote: [[Whether or not there actually is such a pastoral need in the Church today (and I personally would tend to think that there is not), this kind of premise is actually kind of irrelevant to the question of whether or not consecrated virgins should live strongly secular lifestyles.]] Charisms are gifts of the Holy Spirit to the Church and World precisely because there is a need for these gifts. Charisms thus actually cease to be or are renewed in light of pastoral requirements. (For instance (to use really vivid examples), communities whose charism involved ransoming captives of pirates, or those who were involved primarily with the conversion of Jews, might well find these dimensions of their charisms void or theologically illegitimate today and would need to look more closely at who they are today in light of the grace of God. cf Schneiders, Finding the Treasure on charism.) More specifically, consecrated virgins live a life of wholeness and generosity marked by spousal and maternal love precisely in their consecrated virginity. How is it possible to suggest the world at large which is loveless and sex-saturated in ways which trivialize this gift of God and whose capacity for personal commitment is diminished at every turn does not need this precise witness?

In other words, the essential vocation (Consecrated virginity lived in the world and committed to both the things of the spirit and the things of the world) was renewed by the Church, not simply because the vocation had been allowed to be eclipsed by its use by cloistered nuns and because a few hundred contemporary women thought perhaps they might personally be called this way by God, but because this essential gift is needed in a world of increased narcissism, sexual trivialization, and profane secularity. Charisms ALWAYS share these two poles, the eternal or transcendent and the historically particular dimension. Otherwise charisms would exist like rocks thrown into a pond --- an objective reality with no real relationship to the world which God loves and seeks to redeem, and therefore, with no power to transfigure that same world. They would be irrelevant at best, wholly anachronistic, and even destructive at worst. One certainly wonders why God would call virgins to receive consecration according to a solemn rite, compare these women with Mary, identify them as icons of the Church as Bride of Christ, and ask them to serve their brothers and sisters in a multitude of ways (but especially women, for instance) in the things of the spirit and the things of the world if their virginal, spousal and maternal love was not specifically needed by both Church and world (or if such need was considered irrelevant to the vocation itself). In any case, Frederick Buechner once defined vocation as that place where our own deep gladness meets the world's deep need. The same could be said of genuine Charisms, which are dynamic, not static realities and as such are always discerned in relation to the historical context or situation.

Much more could and needs be said in response to Ms Cooper's own response (and many more passages from various Bishops could be cited -- some very compelling), but, again, I will need to do that in other posts --- if, in fact, it seems prudent or desirable to continue the conversation.

A Note: for those wishing to respond to this post in some fashion, please read the posts on consecrated virginity which precede it (September-October 2011; see the list of labels on the right). Especially important is the post on the paradox of Secular or consecrated secularity, but other posts provide basic definitions which are necessary for those proposing to respond. This post is merely the latest in a series and assumes one is somewhat familiar with the posts that preceded it.

Questions on "Inner Work", and the "Theology of the Cross"

[[Peace Be with You, Sister.

I am glad for my sake you . . .answered the question at the heart of your latest post. Sometimes a point can hit the mark when it is iterated for the nth time to someone; I read all your posts and this post seemed to come a little more clear to me. . . . You spoke of "prayer and inner work." In your profile you mentioned the "theology of the cross". I do not want to become burdensome or intrusive, so if I do, please tell me. What is "inner work"? Are there particular practices you do in your daily eremetical life ? Are there such practices you can recommend? I have not been a novice in a novitiate. Is there a book, especially one available online that I could download, that outlines the theology of the cross? I have not studied theology at all either in an in depth way. . . .?]]

Many thanks for your questions and also for your comment on my last post. Sometimes it feels like I have said all I can say, and have done so innumerable times so I wonder if doing so again is anything more than just boring and tedious to everyone. For me it mainly points up how little I actually understand things sometimes!!

Anyway, regarding your questions, "inner work" is work that eventuates from spiritual direction, meditation and prayer, life with others, difficult situations, or just reflective living. It usually leads to greater growth as a human being and in one's relationships with God and others. It is any focused and conscious approach to maturing in virtues, healing from woundedness, becoming a more transparent and true human being. Apart from prayer which is the ground of this work, the primary tool for inner work is often journaling and there are various approaches to growth work which utilize journaling and provide specific ways of doing this. There are a number of formal approaches with workshops and lots of writing with specific questions for reflection, etc. Even if one does not do something systematic and formal with workshops, etc, regular and sustained growth in the spiritual life tends to require ongoing spiritual direction. Most directors I know stress journaling as a tool and will assist a directee in finding their way here.

There are also approaches to spirituality which involve lots of inner work (after all, all authentic spirituality is about transformation). The exercises of St Ignatius is one of these. Currently I am working VERY SLOWLY through a book based on the spiritual exercises called, The Gift of Spiritual Intimacy by Monty Williams, sj. The reflection questions which accompany every step of this book are terrific and plentiful; they are challenging, progressive (they build on and contribute to one another --- though they can be used in any order as well), and can be used as part of a group, on one's own --- though working with a director would be even better --- and so forth! (By the way, if one wants to use the book in a systematic way and actually do the exercises by using it, I definitely recommend working with a director. There are enough questions at every step to allow one to return to them anew again and again (year after year) in order to work with those which really speak to one at this point in one's life. Without a director the book can be a bit overwhelming in its richness and possibilities.)

For instance, the section I was spending some time on this afternoon is on the Beatitudes, and specifically the first one, "Blessed are the poor in spirit. . ." The questions accompanying the reflection for this Beatitude include: [[1) What are your gifts? How do you use them? How are you trapped by them? 2) What are your poverties? How do you hide from them? What happens to you when you enter into those areas? 3) What are the areas in which you do not believe in yourself? What are the areas in which you do not believe in others or in God? 4) Where do you feel threatened? Where does your body tell you that you are threatened? 5) How are you threatened by God? by your family and friends? by yourself? by your prayer?. . .6) What are the areas of vulnerability in your life? . . .9) poverty takes only what is needed from this world, nothing more. Can you distinguish between what you want and what you need? 10) What aspects of you own poverty of spirit do you feel called to spend some more time with?How will you do that? Can you sit in the presence of God and allow God to encounter your own poverty of spirit? What happens when you do that?]] etc.

I try to do this kind of work regularly in the hermitage --- daily when that is possible --- and I meet with my director regularly about the work I am doing as well. Writing about such questions and the reflection it demands is helpful, but sharing these with someone who can help take one further is also very helpful. For instance, it is one thing to answer questions on the nature of one's personal poverties or the ways one hides from these, and another thing entirely to work in a way which heals and allows one to live these things exhaustively with the grace of God. Conversion and growth in Christ's own life is a never ending task and challenge for the Christian. Monks and nuns, as you know, actually are vowed to this, "Conversatio morum". "Inner work" is really any kind of personal growth work that assists in this, that helps one to grow in generosity and compassion, that stretches, heals, and enlarges one's heart so that God might dwell there as fully as possible.

As for the theology of the Cross, I'm sorry, but I don't know of any single source for this, especially online. Theologically there are various approaches to the cross and the way it works. When we use the term "Theology of the Cross" however, we tend to be referring to Paul's own theology of the way Jesus' death and resurrection work to reconcile all of creation to God (God is NOT reconciled!). The basic idea is that God asserts his rights over a sinful world by loving and having mercy on it. In Christ, and through Christ's obedience to him (his openness and responsiveness to God) God enters into every moment and mood of sinful existence including godless or godforsaken death (symbolized by death by crucifixion), and transforms these with his presence so that nothing at all can separate us (or the rest of creation) from the love of God. For Christians God is the one who is present in the unexpected and even the unacceptable place, the one who died for us "while we were yet sinners". There are innumerable books on Paul's theology -- often lengthy and dense. Pope Benedict has some marvelous reflections on the Cross in his small book, Behold the Pierced One. Despite the fact that this is not exactly a systematic theological presentation, you might consider starting with that one.

I hope these answers are helpful. If they are unclear or raise other questions please do get back to me. Thanks again for your email.

Follow-up on Part-time Eremitical Life (Yet Again!)

[[Sister, I am a lay person and live in solitude two days a week; I consider myself a hermit. I read where you would not. I also see where you have argued against extending the term "hermit" to part-time hermits. Is your own solitude really so different than mine? Is it really so much better? Like an earlier reader, I am offended you would be stuck in outdated definitions and not be open to people opening up this category of life to people like me. I am also in disagreement that a vocation to solitude would take as much time to discern as you seem to believe it does. . . . Get over yourself!]]

Thanks for your questions and objections. To be frank, I don't think I can set forth any more clearly why I believe what I believe than I have already done --- and done in posts which it seems you have read yourself. My own solitude is "better" mainly in the sense that it may speak more clearly to those who have no choice regarding their circumstances, that is, those who find themselves isolated and alienated because of life circumstances they cannot change. I think that this is the only way I might use the term "better" in comparing the solitude I am vowed to live with your own. Otherwise, yes, it is different, and I think it is different in significant (very meaningful) ways.

The Place of Eremitical Solitude in Confronting oneself and in Self-Emptying

Besides being able to speak more effectively to those whose physical solitude is not chosen or needs redemption another piece of this difference is the fact that eremitical solitude is one which ensures that one discovers and confronts one's own essential poverty when left to oneself. Over time in silence and solitude one faces oneself in a multitude of inescapable ways; with prayer and inner work (which mediate the grace of God), one comes to exist more truthfully and transparently. God is central to this whole process because it is in extended silence and solitude that one comes to know God's love. It is this love which allows one to participate in the kenosis or self-emptying accomplished in the desert as well as in the process of perceiving and embracing the authentic covenantal identity God calls one to. In the desert, solitude is not a distraction from one's usual environment. Neither does it allow for much distraction, for distraction in the desert can be deadly. I believe eremitical solitude is the solitude of the desert where I believe yours is not. (Please see the articles on the difference between an experience of the desert and a desert experience.) Further, because the heart of eremitical solitude is union with God, the silence of solitude reflects both the environment and goal of the hermit's life where yours, it seems to me, represents either a respite from these or something which MAY contribute to them some but without being them.

The Total Demand of Eremitical Solitude

In reflecting on this notion of "part-time hermits" or of folks' inability to see the difference between a life of solitude and occasional periods of physical solitude I am reminded of a couple of passages from a Carthusian monk's notes for a conference given to new postulants and novices. Dom Joseph wrote: Many "try" solitude and come away in raptures. But they have never really experienced its total demand on human nature; whilst they were in cell, they knew that at the weekend they would be back home at the sea-side. But solitude is far from romantic.

After thinking of the applicants who had left, often during their first night in cell, Dom Joseph continued: Before entering, the postulant dreamed of closing his door upon himself and calling to Jesus the Beloved, but he did not dream that it would be a desperate cry for help. That is, the only prayer he now knows. It is just, "Jesus mercy, Jesus help" all day long. All his pretensions, all his confidence in self, all his assurance that he was strong enough for solitude, have gone long ago. MacGuire, Nancy, An Infinity of Little Hours (p 74)

It is the notion of total demand on one's human nature and the way one is cast upon God in complete dependence which defines the seriousness of a life commitment to "the silence of solitude." It also explains in part the reason that discernment can only occur over time frames which are ordinarily longer than those required by other vocations to consecrated life. When a hermit is canonically professed, for instance, the Bishop asks a series of questions regarding her readiness to make the necessary commitments in preparation for accepting the hermit's vows. He asks publicly if she is resolved to "give (her)self to God alone, in solitude and silence, in persevering prayer and willing penance, in humble labor and holiness of life". To be honest, I don't see how a person can answer such questions in an informed or affirmative way without an existential background in their meaning. This raises several points pertinent to your comments: 1) the Church understands the eremitical vocation as a serious and full-time proposition, 2) one must know that eremitical solitude is a LIFE call, not a transitional or therapeutic period leading to something else --- significant as these may be, and 3) the ability to say yes to such questions, to make a life commitment to them and to God in this way, requires one experience them over a significant period of time prior to such a commitment.

In other words, one needs to know the experience that Dom Joseph describes in his conference notes first hand, and I honestly don't think that spending two days a week in solitude allows for this. There is simply something different in an experience of solitude where one's time there is not going to end in a day or two, a month or two (or even in a year or two!), where the wrestling one does with one's own incapacity is not something one has the resources to end or resolve of oneself, where distractions are, in the main, something one is obligated by choice and by vow to avoid while one faces full on the things which cause us all to turn to distractions in the first place. There is a vast difference between solitude as respite and solitude as a committed way of intense encounter and life. We all know how different a difficult experience is when one can see a light at the end of the tunnel from an experience where there is no light, no real end in sight.

Tedium, Boredom, and Doing Battle with Personal Demons

Now, obviously I don't experience solitude as generally miserable or as bleak as all that (at least I hope it is obvious from this blog!), but rather as amazingly compelling and humanizing in its communion. It is ordinarily a source of joy in God. However, neither do I want to sugar coat the nature or difficulties of eremitical solitude. Even when one is sure that solitude herself has opened the door to the hermit and that the silence of solitude represents a life vocation, this does not mean that one's experience in cell is unending bliss. Prayer may be a joy, but it is also demanding, intense, and challenging in ways love and any genuine commitment to another is always challenging.

Beyond this, the tedium of one's day to day schedule (horarium) in cell means that boredom can be a real problem as can fidelity be in such instances. Stability and one's commitment to it demands that one live through the difficulties, not avoid them with this distraction or that, this shift in place, activity, focus, or that. Despite common misunderstandings of solitary life in a hermitage, it is not an extended vacation, nor a time to simply kick back and do what one likes. It is often less about peace and quiet than it is about doing battle with personal demons. One experiences peace and is able to rest in Christ, but entrusting oneself to Him is also demanding and something which one must grow in one's ability to do. Eremitical solitude, as I have said several times now, is a vocation and a way of life which, when lived well, is a gift to Church and World. Lived badly it is more apt to be an instance of our culture's (or sin's) exaggerated selfishness and individualism.

The Bottom line Questions

My bottom line questions to you (or to myself, for that matter) are, "Is there a way you can say definitely and concretely that your own solitude is a gift to Church and world? Is it consistent with the tradition of eremitical solitude in either Western or Eastern Churches before and even while it varies in some way? Does it speak in some prophetic way to any particular segment of the population?" And finally, "is it something worthy of giving your very life for --- not just abstractly, but in terms of every minute, and hour, and day, and month, and year for the rest of your life?" My own answer to these questions is yes --- even when I live that answer badly at this point or that. It is this affirmative answer and all it implies that allows me not simply to succeed in living this solitude, but to renew my efforts when I have failed to live it well. I suspect this too is a very big difference between the solitude you describe and the solitude I call eremitical.

Immaculee Ilibagiza, Author of Left to Tell at Saint Mary's College, Moraga CA

This evening I was able to attend a talk by Immaculee Ilibagiza, the author of Left to Tell, Led By Faith, et al, and the survivor of the Rwandan genocide who is most associated with her three month vigil of terror and prayer in a neighbor's 3' by 4' bathroom. (The neighbor was a Christian pastor and friend of the family and belonged to the Hutu tribe which was murdering Tutsis like Immaculee; there were seven other women including a seven year old child in that bathroom!!) More, she is known for her forgiveness of those who murdered nearly her entire family and most of her neighbors, her best friend, etc. Her story reminds me very much of the story of Eva Moses Kor (cf links for most popular posts in the right hand column) and her own forgiveness of Dr Mengele who committed atrocities involving Eva, her Sister, and other twins, as well as other Nazis involved in the holocaust during WWII. Both of these women discovered a tremendous freedom in their graced ability to forgive and both discovered a commission by God to make this call real for the world.

In fact, one of the stories Immaculee told this evening in explaining why she was going places to talk about her story was about having met a holocaust survivor at one of her own talks. The aged holocaust survivor thanked Immaculee and expressed a kind of relief and peace that now she could die in peace because someone else had taken on the same message from a similar experience of torture, terror, grace, transformation and forgiveness. I wondered at the time if it might not have been Eva Moses Kor whom Immaculee had met that night. I would have given a great deal to have witnessed such a meeting first hand. There is something so inspiring in the forgiveness these women have "achieved"; not only have they forgiven the killers who took their families and changed their lives forever, but both have met with those persons among us who insist the genocides they survived and witness to never occurred at all!

I have read Left to Tell and it was riveting and terrifying. It was also inspiring and personally challenging. I am reading Led by Faith right now, and one of the things I have been most taken by are the descriptions of Immaculee's prayer. They are compelling and I had the sense in reading them that Immaculee is a true mystic. Labels aside, Led by Faith deepens the portrait of this young woman's faith and prayer in significant ways which make it completely credible and compelling. Tonight, one of the most powerful parts of Ms Ilibagiza's presentation were the moments when, in the midst of reflecting on a truly horrifying and horrific story, she spoke of the way her own prayer had developed and did so with an amazing transparency and humor. These moments were like sparks of fire in the darkness. It was a truly humble presentation of her struggle to come to faith, and to move from faith to faith in relation to and relationship with an inescapable God she discovered dwelling in her own heart!

If you have not read either of these books I recommend them both. Start with Left to Tell and move from there to Led by Faith. The subtitle of tonight's presentation was, "Surviving the Rwandan Genocide." The picture one gets from these two books is first the story of the narrower meaning of this subtitle --- surviving the immediate bloodbath --- and secondly, the broader and perhaps more difficult bit of "survival" which is necessary, namely, becoming whole human beings capable of loving, forgiving and otherwise moving out through our own pain, woundedness, and loss to bring hope to a world that needs it badly. Many of us are survivors of various traumas and tragedies as both Immaculee and Eva Kor were, that is, survivors in the narrower sense of the term --- even if those traumas do not seem as extreme to us. The challenge both Immaculee and Eva (and of course, Jesus!) present us with is that of moving with the grace of God beyond survival in an immediate sense to survival in the broader sense of a grateful, forgiving life in abundance and true freedom. In the process of coming to forgiveness, one ceases in fact to be a victim and becomes a victor while assuming the mantle of prophet and healer in a somewhat lost and undoubtedly broken world. It seems to me that on a solemnity like All Saints (today's Feast) it is important to hear stories of living saints who inspire us to embrace such a calling and commission. Both Immaculee Ilibagiza and Eva Moses Kor are such persons, but for Christians today, Immaculee speaks with a special poignancy and urgent contemporaneity.

On Hermits and Loneliness, Followup Question

[[Dear Sister, you wrote about hermits and loneliness back in June of this year. Would you say that the absence of loneliness when one is alone or lives a solitary life is a sign of an eremitical vocation?]] 

 By itself no, I don't think this is a necessary conclusion. While I think it is true that more malignant forms of loneliness (those significantly accompanied or dominated by anxiety, depression, a need to seek others out or distract oneself, etc) are generally absent for the authentic hermit, I think that more normal loneliness, associated with the fact that one is loved and loves others but is also mainly separated from them, is a piece of eremitical life. As I noted in that earlier post, loneliness can and does occur for the hermit because of the need to share dimensions of her life, or because her union with God is partial, for instance. 

It is true that hermits turn to God to share what cannot be shared with others, but for most hermits -- especially those not called to absolute reclusion --- this does not automatically do away with the need for friendships or the sometimes-painful drive to love in concrete ways. In fact, it may exacerbate these to some extent. Thus, as I wrote earlier, I think that simple loneliness is a piece (though not a dominating one) of living an eremitical life. Because of this, the complete absence of simple loneliness is not something I expect hermits to experience. Unless we are speaking of what we experience during chosen and limited periods of physical solitude (which all persons require), the absence of even simple loneliness is more apt, it seems to me, to be the result of blunted sensitivity or diminished affectivity, the consequence of personal woundedness, or even the result of more malignant self-centeredness and exaggerated individualism or even narcissism. 

Note well that I have referred to the absence of loneliness here --- that is, I have referred to something defined in negative terms, the absence of something. If a person has a deeply intimate and pervasively consoling, even companionable relationship with God, then I think they will characterize that in more positive terms. If they have made the transition from isolation to genuine solitude, then I think they will do the same with that experience. In other words they will not be saying, "I don't feel lonely" so much as they will be saying something like, "My life is full and rich: I am deeply loved and am called both to return and share that love," etc. Obviously though, one of the natural questions people ask of hermits is, "But don't you feel lonely?!" In this context, and bearing in mind the distinction between simple and malignant or pervasive forms of loneliness I have drawn in the past, one will generally answer "no." The answer given is naturally articulated in negative terms. 

Is this a sign of an authentic eremitical vocation? Maybe. My own sense, however, is that one should look to other and more positive signs instead: does one love more fully as a result of physical solitude? Is one's life full and does it become fuller as time goes by? Does one deal with loneliness by persisting in fidelity to one's commitment to solitude and without the need for distraction or not? Can one maintain significant friendships even within this solitary context? Are people generally impressed with the sense of joy that comes from authentic solitude and marks the hermit as "at home" in such a context? (Joy is not the same as more superficial happiness and is often, rightly I think, identified as a gift of God.) Does one convey a sense of the significance and wholeness of such a life or does one give the impression of a kind of narrowness and futility? Is one's humanity, despite being a work in process, more integral, authentic, compassionate, generous, transparent, and honest?

The Silence of Solitude as Essentially Missionary

[[Hi Sister, it seems strange to me to speak of hermits participating in the mission of God to the world. It seems to me that missionary work is active, and though I am sure prayer and union with God is helpful, I can't see where union with God is a form of mission. Perhaps that explains why sometimes I read about hermits who seem completely wrapped up in some sort of union with God and feel no need to be part of the church or her "temporal" affairs.]]

I suspect you are not alone in this. Remember the book I recommended recently on Secularity by Ronald Rolheiser? One of the major underlying elements in this book is that God is missionary and the Church participates in this. Vatican II's Ad Gentes affirms that all mission begins with the Holy Trinity with the sending of Word and Holy Spirit into the World. Mary Maher, SSND, outlines this very well: [[In the early Church, as the theology of the Trinity was developed, and already we see roots of this in the Gospel of John, mission was understood as being derived from the very nature of God. In classical trinitarian language, mission is understood most fundamentally in this way: God the Father sends the Son; the Father and Son send the Spirit; the Father, Son, and Spirit send the Church. Missionary initiative comes not primarily from the command of Jesus to his disciples to go out to the whole world and preach the Gospel. Rather, missionary activity comes even more basically from the very nature of God, a triune communion of love. Mission, therefore, is not primarily an activity of the Church; it is primarily an attribute of God. God is a missionary God.]] (Maher, Mary, "Called and Sent: Reflections on a Theology of Apostolic Religious Life Today" (Seminar: Union of International Superiors General)

Hermits in particular need to be aware of this. As we also know, there is a tendency to see eremitical solitude and its goal of union with God as essentially selfish or all about self and one's own salvation. (Some would-be hermits approach it this way too --- to the detriment and distortion of the vocation!) Similarly, at the opposite end of the spectrum there is a tendency to see the ways in which contemplative union spills over into various forms of limited apostolate as distractions from and something which is not intrinsic to authentic union or contemplative life. While serious discernment is required in determining how and when such spillover is allowed to occur, it becomes easier to understand how "the silence of solitude," which is characteristic of union with God, is the heart of genuine mission resulting in such "spillover" when we understand that the very nature of God is missionary. It also helps us to understand the importance of "the silence of solitude" itself as a leaven empowering mission, and as a gift which can transform the lives of those who feel they have no mission in the Church because they are ordinarily the ones being ministered to (the chronically ill, bereaved, prisoners, frail and isolated elderly, etc).

The Silence of Solitude as Charism of Canon 603 hermits

[[Sister, are you saying that "the silence of solitude" is the charism of diocesan eremitical life? Why not one of the other central elements? Also, I don't quite see how understanding that this is the charism can prevent abuses where the other central elements are treated as negotiable. I am sure you have explained this well, but could you explain a little more?]]

Yes, sorry if I was unclear. I am saying that "the silence of solitude is the charism, or the defining characteristic and specific gift of the Holy Spirit given to the Church and World through diocesan eremitical life." "The silence of solitude" is not merely the external silence of someone living alone --- though it is that too. The "silence of solitude" is what happens when a person who prays assiduously (etc) is brought to union with God. It includes the reconciliation, healing, individuation, and human wholeness which is part of this, eventuating in the ability to relate to others compassionately and with the love of Christ. In a sense then, "the silence of solitude" is both means and goal of the eremitical life, and it stands in marked contrast to the world in which we all live. Our unstable, noisy, overly mobile, self-centered or overly individualistic consumerist world is marked by estrangement and alienation. People hunger for and seek relatedness and meaning in many many ways, but too often these ways are more distractions and exercises in superficiality than means to actual communion and healing.

One group of people in particular symbolize the failure of our world in this regard, and who are more systematically victimized by it; these are those whose alienation and isolation is more pronounced or clear because of chronic illness, bereavement, old age, imprisonment, etc. For these persons especially, but for all the world caught up in noise, busyness, distraction, and the values of something other than the Kingdom of God, the hermit living a prayerful life in and out of "the silence of solitude" says that even the worst isolation and alienation can be healed and lead to communion with God. For this reason I suggest that "the silence of solitude" is not only means and goal of the eremitical life, but that this is the gift hermits (and especially solitary or diocesan hermits) bring to Church and world.

The other central elements of the canon seem to me to function to support and nurture this specific gift or charism. Other vocations are also assiduously prayerful and penitential; others are marked by degrees of separation from the world; others certainly are also publicly vowed and consecrated, are lived according to a Rule (or constitutions) under the supervision of legitimate superiors, but "the silence of solitude" is not the primary gift they bring to the Church and world. Cloistered vocations may themselves be an instance of the silence of solitude to some significant degree, but it seems to me that the diocesan hermit is called to live out this reality differently and in a way which speaks to every isolated and alienated individual in our world with a starker clarity. Further, the fact that she lives and grows in this vocation outside of community and embedded within (and dependent upon) her parish, neighborhood, and diocese argues that "the silence of solitude" is possible for anyone finding themselves in a similar place. All of this makes the diocesan hermit's life a very great gift in a needy world --- but not if the vocation is lived badly, on a part time basis, or in ways which treat the other essential elements as dispensable or unendingly elastic.

Once this charism is understood by every hermit, candidate, Bishop, and chancery official, the elements which support and lead to "the silence of solitude" will be understood and respected as well, I believe. They will be seen as critical to the gift the hermit brings to the church and world --- not simply as elements which can be added (or neglected) in varying amounts: a little bit of silence on the weekends or in the evenings, a dash of contemplative prayer on Saturdays or perhaps on Wednesdays as well, and not just as things to be done, but as characteristics of a particular embodiment of personhood lived in union with God. In particular diocesan eremitical life will not be seen as a part-time "vocation" nor will hermiting itself be seen as synonymous with simply living alone (even if one is pious) or as a lone ministerial religious. After all, the people to whom diocesan eremitical life is especially supposed to be a sign of possibility and hope are not chronically ill, impoverished, bereaved, imprisoned or otherwise isolated and alienated, unable to compete, work, etc, merely on a part time basis. They cannot join religious communities and few will be able seek profession in the Church as a diocesan hermit. Yet, they too are called in some way to an essential wholeness and to union with God (that is, to "the silence of solitude") precisely in their physical solitude.

This is why I argue that candidates for profession under Canon 603 thus themselves will have made the transition from doing "hermit things" (whatever this actually means!) at some point before profession is even considered and will be living and living towards the goal of "the silence of solitude" every day of their lives. Further they will do so because they know that otherwise their life is not the gift it could and is meant to be for those who have no other option or hope. Similarly it is why I argue that Bishops and chanceries must first understand and appreciate the charism of diocesan eremitism before discerning vocations to Canon 603 profession.

Every single vocation in the Church, and the Church herself participates in God's mission to reconcile the world to himself. Hermits certainly do the same. Eremitical life is about proclaiming God's grace to transform and heal human poverty and alienation and to redeem the isolation and estrangement which is so prevalent in our world. The silence of solitude (the wholeness and quies or shalom of union with God) is the eremitical charism which says that divine grace and human poverty together result in precisely the kind of authentic humanity our world needs so desperately.

Canon 603, Misuses and Abuses: Part 2, Recognizing and Embracing the Charism of Solitary Eremitical Life

[[Hi Sister, your last post raised additional questions for me so I am writing to see if you can answer them. You said that lauras are very different than communities of hermits. Can you say what these are? You also described the flexibility of the eremitical life and described conditions that allowed for such flexibility. It seems to me though that these same conditions can lead to abuses and misuses of C 603. Has this happened? Is it common? Is Canon 603 itself enough to prevent such abuses or does the Church need something from Rome like the other poster mentioned --- a document like Vita Consecrata?]]

So, I hope my last post answered your question about some of the major differences between a c 603 laura and a community. Let me give the rest of your question a shot in this post. I want to start though by discussing the cause of the abuses we see (because yes, we see them and yes, this has an effect on further vocations).

Neglect of Charism: The Source of Abuses and Misuse of Canon 603

My own sense is that misuses and abuses in the application and use of canon 603 inevitably stem from one single source, namely, an ignorance of or failure to appreciate the actual charism of diocesan eremitical life. Because people (including Bishops and chanceries) don't actually understand or regard the vocation's nature as gift or the quality of that gift in concrete terms, the essential elements of the canon are treated as negotiable or susceptible to endless compromise and dispensation. I am identifying the charism of diocesan eremitism as a life of "the silence of solitude" lived by a solitary hermit, and lived, as the canon specifies, for the praise of God and the salvation of the world. The shorthand form of the charism is "the silence of solitude". The salvation it refers to and occasions takes a number of forms, no doubt, but one of the most important and necessary in today's world is the witness to and modeling of the transformation of isolation into genuine solitude possible with the grace of God for those multitudes who are left alone and estranged in a world marked by excessive mobility and in which the meaning of a life is gauged by the criteria of productivity, consumerism, wealth, and the like.

Essential Elements of the Canon Establish the Gift Quality of the Vocation

Once this is understood the essential elements of the canon (a vowed life of stricter separation from the world, the silence of solitude, assiduous prayer and penance, according to a Rule of life the hermit writes herself and lives under the supervision of her Bishop) cannot be set aside or redefined to mean anything at all. Because the vocation is a gift especially to those who cannot simply opt out of the circumstances that isolate and limit them (situations like chronic illness, bereavement, old age, imprisonment, etc)--- not even for brief periods --- hermits must be able to live full-time solitude and in doing so witness to the redemption of isolation possible when one stands on the margins of society empowered by the grace of God. Understanding and respecting the gift eremitical life is to these persons would put an end to the possibility of some of the misuses and abuses of the canon we do see today: part-time hermits (hermits who work full-time outside the hermitage in very social roles and allot Saturdays (et al) to contemplative prayer), "hermits" who are professed merely because there is no other canon in the Revised Roman Code to profess an individual even though they are truly called to be ministerial or apostolic religious, "hermits" who are merely failures at life or who are so eccentric or misanthropic that their isolation is mistaken for authentic solitude and canon 603 is seen as a way of validating their lives, married hermits, and persons who simply live alone and are relatively pious.

All of these instances of misuse and misunderstanding occur when the elements of canon 603 are treated as optional or negotiable or are redefined to mean something less or other than they actually say. So, for instance, the silence of solitude is redefined as "silence and solitude" and treated merely as external things to be built into one's day rather than as the very goal of the life --- a way of describing the silence (and the song!) that results when one lives in union with God as well as the external environment that helps lead to this. Assiduous prayer and penance too are treated as quantifiable activities rather than as the quality of an obedient and articulate life steeped in and open to the active Word and presence of God. Stricter separation from the world is treated as the simple act of closing the hermitage door on reality rather than as a commitment to becoming holy and authentically human precisely as God's dialogue and covenant partner within a solitary context. "For the salvation of the world" is then an obscure phrase tacked onto what seems to be a thoughtless, selfish, and individualistic pursuit rather than being taken as a defining element of the vocation which marks it as one of generosity and love at its very heart. No specific person or group of people is seen as benefiting from the integral commitment to a life of genuine solitude when this phrase is cut off from concrete circumstances.

A Life of Compromise and Mediocrity

When all this happens it is a short step to a life of compromise and mediocrity. Once people fail to understand "the silence of solitude" as a description of the union with God which transforms all human weakness and poverty or redeems ANY form of isolation or estrangement without regard to productivity, wealth, buying power, status, and the like, the essential elements outlined in the canon become more or less dispensable. When it ceases to be not only the environment necessary for the diocesan hermit but the goal of her life as well the same thing happens. And as a result canon 603 can become a stopgap way to profess anyone who merely lives alone and fits under no other canon rather than the canon which is reserved for professing those who are truly already hermits in some essential way, whose lives witness to the dynamic embodied in the term "the silence of solitude," and who require profession under this canon in order to live out this embodiment as fully and integrally as possible.

As your questions recognize, flexibility can lead to abuse, but my own sense is that what is important in making sure there is genuine flexibility and not simply a casual disregard for the elements of the canon is a sense of the gift quality of the vocation. When the hermit understands and esteems the gift her life is to Church and world in very concrete terms she can be flexible out of love, not merely casual out of disregard or ignorance. At the same time she will not be rigid in her living out of this vocation to Christian freedom, because rigidity is a function of ignorance and lack of understanding (not to mention a lack of love) as much as is license.

On the Incidence and Significance of Misuse and Abuse of Canon 603

Are there many misuses or abuses of canon 603? No, not in absolute terms. But given the relative rarity of the vocation every one of these is akin to 100's of instances of abuse in other more common forms of consecrated life. Each one establishes a precedent, and in a vocation which is little-understood, even by Bishops, and where Bishops are, at least in part, dependent upon living paradigms of the nature and significance of the vocation for truly understanding the vocation, each precedent can have enormous influence, whether for good or for ill. Often the result of such instances is not the profession of others in the same way, but the refusal of Bishops to profess anyone because the vocation is made to look badly conceived and incredible by such misuses.

Do we need the Church to produce a document for Canon 603 like Vita Consecrata? I don't know. We certainly need Bishops and chancery personnel (not to mention those who wish to be professed under this canon!) to understand the true meaning of the central elements of the canon and WHY they are non-negotiable. Non-negotiable does not mean inflexible in expression or embodiment, but it does mean that these elements contribute to the gift quality of the vocation and that that will be lost if they are treated as expendable or infinitely elastic. Commentaries are clear that canon 603 is not a call to a life of merely external silence and solitude, nor to simply living alone, doing one's own thing, and being fairly pious in the process. What must happen is for Bishops and their chancery personnel to educate themselves on canon 603; similarly, as mentioned in my previous post, they must appreciate that what is canonically possible because it is not prohibited is not the same as what is prudent for the vocation itself. If a document from Rome can do these things, then perhaps it could be helpful.