The Spirit of the Lord is Upon Me Because the Lord has Anointed Me

The spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me,
because the LORD has anointed me;
he has sent me to bring glad tidings to the poor,
to heal the brokenhearted,
to proclaim liberty to the captives
and release to the prisoners,
to announce a year of favor from the LORD
and a day of vindication by our God.

Gaudete Sunday is always a wonderful experience at my parish. Not only had 'our' always wonderful and entirely irrepressible  Father Bill Auth, osfs, returned to us briefly after months of his Mayan mission in Mexico, but after the homily we celebrated the Sacrament of Anointing of the sick with the entire community --- just as we do each year at this time. Almost 60 persons came forward at the 9:30 Mass alone! It was significant then that the first reading began with the above passage from Isaiah and the reminder that as Christians we are anointed so that we might bring the Good News to the poor, heal the broken hearted and empower freedom for/in those in bondage or some form of imprisonment. It all reminded me that in my own life I have associated the Sacrament of the Anointing of the Sick with vocational anointing since reading Prophetic Anointing by Jake (James) Emperor back in the early 1980's. From that book I began to imagine that perhaps chronic illness was a vocation to be sick (and essentially well!) within the Church.

I never believed that God willed chronic illness, of course, but I did believe that those who are chronically ill within the Church can proclaim the Gospel with their lives, and can do so with a special vividness and poignancy. We who have been anointed by God (both in Baptism, Confirmation, and in the Sacrament of the Sick) and made essentially well by God in spite of the chronic illness we live with daily proclaim the freedom and joy of such a life to others who are similarly afflicted. Today during this season of new beginnings, on the day especially celebrating the new beginnings which I personally link to chronic illness and the healing grace of God symbolized in and mediated by anointing, I wanted to repost the article that signaled the beginning of my thoughts in this. They were the beginning of my serious internalization of the eremitical vocation and the beginning of the profound happiness and wholeness (as well as the yearning for greater wholeness) I celebrated today, 28 years later, with the Sacrament of Anointing.

(First published in Review For Religious @ 1986. Reprints available in Best of the Review #8, Dwelling in the House of the Lord, Catholic Laity and Spiritual Tradition, or through Ravensbread, Newsletter for hermits) Update, Copies may be obtained from RFR archives.

While applauding the end of a long period of narcissistic privatism in the church, Thomas Merton in his posthumously published, Contemplation in a World of Action makes an important case for the eremitism (that is, the lifestyle of anchorites and hermits) as a significant monastic lifestyle. Almost twelve years later in the 1983 Revised Code of Canon Law, the Church makes room explicitly for the inclusion of "nonmonastic" (that is, not associated with monasteries per se) forms of eremitism through canon 603, which outlines a life "in which Christian faithful withdraw further from the world and devote their lives to the praise of God and the salvation of the world through assiduous prayer and penance." Despite this attention, this little-known and mostly ill-regarded vocation has been ignored for far too long, and it is time to ask what vision Thomas Merton, perhaps the best-known of contemporary hermits, had of the eremitical life, and what vision others have of the nature and significance of this vocation in a contemporary church. In particular, with regard to this latter vision, I would like to explore the idea that the chronically ill and disabled may represent a specific instance of the eremitic life today.

At a time when religious and consecrated persons are described within their communities and the church as Poets, Prophets, and Pragmatists, the solitary vocation has achieved new vigor and significance. In some senses the eremitic vocation has always served to challenge society and the institutional church. Always hermits find themselves on the margin of society. Always they live at extremities which, whether gently or harshly, confront and challenge others in the mainstream of things. Unfortunately, the extreme marginal position has not always been one of marked sanity. Often hermits have justifiably earned and borne the label of lunatic, eccentric, rebel, heretic, or fanatic. But truly, whether the individual hermit functions as a prophet or as poet, the vocation is an eminently pragmatic one marked by sanity and profound sense, and is often possessed of a deep and significant conservatism. In fact, the vocation of the hermit today is seen by some as preeminently a vocation of healing, wholeness, and essential well-being in a society characterized by the sickness and disorder of alienation and disaffection.

Both theoretically and practically Merton has prepared the way for this understanding, while others, mostly in the Anglican confession, have confirmed it in their own living. Contemporary hermits live on the margins of society, but they neither remain on nor belong to its periphery. Instead, through simple and uncomplicated lives of prayer and penance, lives essentially free from the "myths and fixations" (Merton) imposed by and inordinately artificial society, they occupy a central role in calling a fragmented and alienated world back to truly human values and life. Above all, it is eremitism's characteristic and conservative witness to wholeness and spiritual sanity (sanctity) which is so very vital to a contemporary church and society.

Solitude is, after all, the most universal of vocations, and a specifically eremitic vocation to solitude serves to remind us of its basic importance in the life of every person, not only as existential predicament, but, as Christian value, challenge, and call. All of us struggle to maintain an appropriate tension between independence and committedness to others which is characteristic of truly human solitude. At the same time, all of us are, in some way, part of the societal problem of alienation, whether we are members of the affluent who contribute materially to the alienation of the poor even while struggling perhaps to do otherwise, or whether we are members of the impoverished who are consigned to what Merton refers to as "the tragically unnatural solitudes" of city slums and ghettos. It is to the church in and of this society that the hermit speaks as prophetic witness. In fact, it is as prophetic witness that the contemporary hermit is part of the answer to society's problems, and it is to that answer that we now turn.

Two dominant scriptural themes are absolutely central to the eremitic vocation. The first is that of wilderness, and the second, and related motif, is that of pilgrimage or sojourn. Together these make up the desert spirituality that is characteristic of eremitism, and constitute the major elements of the powerful criticism of the world of which it is a part. Additionally, in a world which is truly more characteristically "rite of passage" than anything else, these two themes and the life of religious poverty and consecrated celibacy which they attend provide a deeply apologetic spirituality which is an effective answer to lives marked and marred by the affectation, artificiality, estrangement, futility, and emptiness of our contemporary consumerist society. Perceptively, the church today recognizes that she is made up of a "pilgrim people." Hermits are quite simply individuals who choose to stand on the edge of society as persons with no fixed place and witness to this identity with absolutely no resources but those they find within themselves and those they receive through the grace of God. Further, they attest to the fact that these elements alone are indeed sufficient for a genuinely rich and meaningful life. Above all, in a world whose central value seems to be acquisitiveness, whether of goods, status, or of persons, the hermit lives and affirms the intrinsic wholeness and humanity of a life that says, "God is enough."

Even the hermitage itself testifies to the eminent sanity of the hermit’s vocation. As Merton observed, the first function of the contemporary hermitage is “to relax and heal and to smooth out one’s distortions and inhumanities.” This is so, he contends, because the mission of the solitary in the world is, “first the full recovery of man’s natural and human measure.” He continues, “Not that the solitary merely recalls the rest of men to some impossible Eden. [Rather] he reminds them of what is theirs to use if they can manage to extricate themselves from the web of myths and fixations which a highly artificial society has imposed on them.” Above all, as Merton concludes, “the Christian solitary today should bear witness to the fact that certain basic claims about solitude and peace are in fact true, [for] in doing this, [they] will restore people’s confidence first in their own humanity and beyond that in God’s grace.” The hermitage represents for the individual and society that place where the hermit “can create a new pattern which will fulfill (her) special needs for growth. . .and confront the triple specters of ”boredom, futility, and unfulfillment, which so terrify the modern American.”

One group of people are prepared better than most to assume this prophetic role in our world,and I think may represent a long-disregarded instance of the eremitic call to solitude. These persons are members of the chronically ill and disabled, and in fact the prophetic witness they are prepared to give is far more radical than that already suggested. The idea of a vocation to illness is a relatively new one, stemming as it does from renewed reflection on the meaning of illness and the place of the sacrament of anointing in the life of the church. But in fact the idea that the ill might be called to solitude rather than the cenobium dates back at least to the Council of Vannes (463) in a phrase reading "propter infirmitatis necessitatem." If no more than a suggestion, there is at least a similarity between this older notion and the one I am presenting here. The difference, however, stems from the fact that, far from suggesting a somehow inferior cenobitic religious life which must be accommodated by extraordinary provisions for solitude, I believe the call to chronic illness is itself, at least for some, an eremitic vocation to "being sick within the church" as a solitary whose witness value is potentially more profound because such a person is generally more severely tyrannized by our capitalistic and materialistic world.

In the first place, the chronically ill, whose physical solitude is not so much clearly chosen as it is accepted, testify to the poverty of images of human wellness and wealth that are based upon the productivity of the individual in society. They are able to clearly challenge such images and testify further to the dual truth of the human being's poverty and genuine human possibilities. Humanity possesses not only great richness, but an innate poverty as well, which is both ineluctable and inescapable --- a poverty in the face of which one must either find that God is enough or despair. It is a poverty that cannot be changed by a life of busy productivity or by any infusion of accomplishment, and it is a poverty that points to the essentially paradoxical "unworthwhileness" and simultaneous infinite value of the human life. The chronically ill and disabled live this "poverty of worthwhileness" and yet witness to the fact that their lives are of immeasurable value not because of "who" they are (Status) or what they do, but because God himself regards them as precious.

In the second place, the chronically ill person who accepts his or her illness as a vocation to solitude is capable of proclaiming to the world that human sinfulness (existential brokenness and alienation) can and will be overcome by the powerful and loving grace of God. Once again this is a radical witness to the simple fact of divine sufficiency, and it is a witness that is sharpened by the reintegration achieved in the recontextualization of one's illness.

In this recontextualization, illness assumes its rightful position as rite of passage, which, although difficult, need be neither devastating nor meaningless, and it appears clearly as a liminal (or boundary) experience which testifies to transcendence. In accepting this as a call to solitude, the chronically ill person is freed from the false sense of self provided by society, and, in the wilderness of the hermitage, assumes the identity which God himself individually bestows. And finally, the chronically ill solitary says clearly that every person, at whatever stage in his or her own life, can do the same thing --- a task and challenge which eventually eludes none of us.

Today the church has moved to appropriate more completely a lifestyle that has been part of her life since the 3rd century, and one which is rooted in her Old Testament ancestry. It is my hope that those doing spiritual direction, hospital chaplaincy, and so forth, will familiarize themselves further with the spirituality which undergirds this significant way of life, and, whether dealing with the chronically ill or not, maintain an attitude of openness and even of encouragement to their clients' exploration of eremitism as a possible vocation. This is particularly true with regard to those whose vocation "to be sick within the church" may represent a vocation to eremitical solitude. As Merton concludes, in a society fraught with dishonesty and exploitation of human integrity, the Christian solitary stands on the margin and, [[in his prayer and silence, explores the existential depths and possibilities of his own life by entering the mystery of Christ's prayer and temptation in the desert, Christ's nights alone on the mountain, Christ's agony in the garden, Christ's Transfiguration and Ascension. This is a dramatic way of saying that the Christian solitary is left alone with God to fight out the question of who he really is, to get rid of the impersonation, if any, that has followed him to the woods.]]

Breaking away from the exorbitant claims and empty promises of contemporary society is crucial for each of us. The solitary, and especially the chronically ill solitary, fulfills this challenge with special vividness.

Eremitical Life as a Life of Vigil (Reprise)

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), leads to the silence of solitude (i.e.,the quies or hesychasm of 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.

Our Lady of Guadalupe: God is the One who Lifts up the Lowly

Fifty years ago at Vatican II the messiest, most passionate, and often "dirtiest" fighting to occur during the council took place during discussions of the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, Lumen Gentium. Out of nearly 2400 bishops the fight was divided almost exactly evenly between two factions, those nicknamed the maximalists and those nicknamed the minimalists. Both factions were concerned with honoring the greatness of Mary in our faith but their strategies in this were very different from one another. The maximalists wanted the council to declare Mary Mediatrix of all Graces and to proclaim this as a new dogma in the Church --- never mind that the thrust of the Council was not toward the definition of new dogmas. They wanted the council to write a separate document on Mary, one which effectively made her superior to the Church.

The minimalists also wanted to honor Mary, but they wanted to do so by speaking of her within the document on the Church. They desired a more Scriptural approach to the person and place of Mary which honored the dogmatic truth that Christ is the One unique Mediator between God and mankind. The Church would be spoken of as Mother and Virgin, for instance, and Mary would be seen as a type of the Church.

The minimalist position won the day (had only 20 Bishops voted differently it would have been another matter) and so, in Lumen Gentium after the Church Fathers wrote about the Mystery of the Church, Church as People of God, the hierarchical nature of the Church, the Laity, the universal call to holiness, Religious, and the Church as a Pilgrim people, they wrote eloquently about Our Lady in chapter VIII. Mary is highly honored in this Constitution --- as it says in today's responsorial psalm, she is, after all, "the highest honor of our race", but for this very reason the Church Fathers spoke of her clearly as  within the Church, within the Communion of Saints, within the Pilgrim People of God, not as a rival to Christ or part of the Godhead, but as one who serves God in Christ as a model of faithfulness.

It is always difficult, I think, to believe and honor the Christmas truth we are preparing during Advent to celebrate, namely, that our God is most fully revealed to us in the ordinary things of life. We are a Sacramental faith rooted in the God who, for instance, comes to us himself in bread and wine, cleanses and recreates us entirely with water,  and strengthens and heals us with oil. Especially at this time of the liturgical year we are challenged to remember and celebrate the God who turns a human face to us, who comes to us in weakness, lowliness and even a kind of dependence on the "yes" we are invited to say, the One who is made most fully real and exhaustively known in the unexpected and even the unacceptable place. Advent is a time when we prepare ourselves to see the very face of God in the poor, the broken, the helpless, and those without status of any kind. After all, that is what the Christmas Feast of the Nativity is all about.

I think this is one of the lessons today's Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe teaches most vividly. We all know the more superficial story. Briefly, in 1531 Juan Diego, an Indian Christian encountered a beautiful Lady on the hill of Tepeyac; she told him to ask the Bishop to build a church there. The Bishop refused and required a sign of the authenticity of Juan Diego's vision. Diego returned home to find his uncle dying. He set out again to fetch a doctor and avoided the hill where he had first met the woman and went around it instead --- he did not want to be distracted from his mission! But the Lady came down to him, heard his story about his uncle, reassured him his uncle would be well, and told him then to go to the top of the hill and pick the flowers he found there. Diego did so, gathered them in his tilma or mantle, and went again to the Bishop. Juan poured out his story to him and he also poured the flowers out onto the floor. Only then did he and the Bishop see a miraculous image of the Lady of Tepeyac hill there on the tilma itself.

But there was a deeper story. Remember that Juan Diego's people were an essen-tially subjugated people. The faith they were forced to adopt by missionaries was geared toward the salvation of souls but not to what we would recognize as the redemption of persons or the conversion and transformation of oppressive structures and institutions. It was more a faith enforced by fear than love, one whose whose central figure was a man crucified because an infinitely offended God purportedly willed it in payment for our sins. Meanwhile the symbols of that faith, its central figures, leaders and saints, were visibly European; they spoke and were worshipped in European languages, were dressed in European clothes, were portrayed with European features, etc. At best it was hard to relate to; it's loving God was apparently contradictory and remote. At worst it was incomprehensible and dehumanizing. Moreover, with the "evangelizers" who had forcibly deprived the Indians of their own gods and religion came diseases the Indians had never experienced. They were dying of plagues formerly unknown to them, working as slaves for the institutional and patriarchal  Church, and had been deprived of the human dignity they had formerly known.

It was into this situation that Mary directly entered when she appeared on Tepeyak hill, the center of the indigenous peoples' worship of the goddess Tonantzin, the "goddess of sustenance". The image of the Lady was remarkable in so many ways. The fact of it, of course, was a marvel (as were the healing of Diego's uncle, the December roses Diego picked and poured out onto the Bishop's floor or the creation and persistence of her image on Diego's tilma), but even more so was the fact that she had the face of a mixed race (Indian or Mestiza) woman, spoke in Diego's own language, was pregnant, and was dressed in native dress. And here was the greatest miracle associated with OL of Guadalupe: in every way through this appearance the grace of God gave dignity to the Indian people. They were no longer third or fourth class people but persons who could truly believe they genuinely imaged the Christian God. The appearance was the beginning of a new Church in the Americas, no longer a merely European Church, but one where Mary's Magnificat was re-enacted so that ALL were called to truly image God and proclaim the Gospel. One commentator wrote that, [[Juan Diego and millions after him are transformed from crushed, self-defacing and silenced persons into confident, self-assured and joyful messengers and artisans of God's plan for America.]] (Virgilio Elizondo, Guadalupe and the New Evangelization)

Here too then, in the truly unexpected and even unacceptable place, our God turns a human face to those seeking him. He comes to us in weakness and lowliness as one of the truly marginalized. In the process we see clearly once again the God of Jesus Christ who scatters the proud in their conceit, unseats the mighty from their positions of power, and lifts up the lowly. During this season of Advent Our Lady of Guadalupe calls us especially to be watchful. God is working to do this new and powerful thing among us --- just as he did in the 1st Century, just as he did in the 16th, just as he always does when we give him our own fiat.

Eremitical Life as Prophetic: Risking being Fools for Christ

[[Hi Sister, in your post on the hermit life as prophetic you said that the picture of the Carthusian hermit would be absurd if either God did not exist or if God were not a "constitutive part" of our very being but I wasn't sure I got what you were saying. Could you explain some more? Also I wondered if part of being prophetic is being "countercultural"? Does it mean risking being thought of as "absurd" or a "fool for Christ"? Are people we think of as fools for Christ prophetic?]]

When I made that parenthetical comment in Hermit Life as Prophetic, what I was thinking was this was a terrific picture symbolizing the heart of the hermit life. The hermit is praying at a naked prayer desk. He is not reading, studying, relaxing (all ways of justifying solitude), ministering to the poor, preaching, teaching, nursing, nor is he otherwise engaged in active ministry. His life is given over not to the cultivation of self, nor to some vague notion of peace and quiet, nor to a recognizable commitment to individualism. He has come away, embraced eremitical anachoresis (withdrawal) in order to seek God and to come to fullness of life --- a fullness we call holiness. He has relinquished an ordinary life of ordinary commitment (or refusal thereof), turned from family and friends in a significant though not absolute way, set aside any number of personal gifts and talents to embrace the extraordinary commitment of the solitary life of prayer and penance in a Charterhouse structured according to medieval values and customs. Moreover, he has done this first and foremost for God's own sake.

Even for those who believe in God such a choice can seem absurd or a relative waste. (This might be especially true for those who are committed to apostolic life and active ministry.) For those who believe there is no such reality as God (for atheism is indeed a religious belief similar to theism) such a life would be completely absurd, empty of meaning, and, perhaps then, ludicrous. Similarly, for those who believe God is merely remote, external to ourselves, or something other than the very ground and source of being and meaning within and underlying the whole of creation (including our own hearts where we bear witness to that reality), a picture symbolizing not only praying regularly but committing to a life of becoming God's own prayer might be seen as futile, a waste, and absurd. In today's society we might tolerantly allow for this in the name of individual liberty, "So long as s/he doesn't hurt anyone, s/he can do whatever she pleases," but at the root of such an attitude is a view of humanity that suggests that a life, however lived, is of no ultimate worth; anything the person does is acceptable for precisely this reason. A hermit's life in such a case is no more absurd or futile than anyone else's, it is simply more evidently so.

So, the hermit serves in a prophetic way to affirm the foundational relationship between the human person and God. She does so vividly and lives with an incredible clarity the risk Paul spoke of when he said, "If Jesus has not been raised from the dead" --- if, that is, our God does not exist and is not the ground and source of being and meaning who, in the Christ Event, ultimately triumphs over death and senselessness --- "then we are the greatest fools of all." Yes, this is a counter cultural stance. We place our trust in the God who shows us who God is and who we are in the events of the cross. We risk wasting our lives in a fruitless fantasy existence rooted in a non-existent or remote and ultimately powerless or unloving God in the name of the Gospel of the God of Jesus Christ. We embrace the scandal and foolishness of the cross as our greatest hope and norm while we reject so much of what goes on in the name of "success" or "significance" or "wisdom" today. For us, as for Paul, the Cross is the foolishness of God which is wiser than human wisdom. In this sense hermits are very much "fools for Christ."

I think the category "fool for Christ" or "holy foolishness" (what Catherine De Hueck made well known in her book of the same name as "Urodivoi") absolutely refers to a prophetic stance. Such persons not only serve as gadflies to poke fun at our this-worldly pretensions and obsessions as well as taking the wrath and ridicule of this world onto themselves to unmask it, but when truly authentic (and not just run of the mill fools or masochistic nutcases), they proclaim the Word of God and/or Gospel of God in Christ into the present situation with a peculiarly arresting and troubling power. Quintessentially they are truth tellers. That is what prophets always are and do. In the OT it is the very definition of the word. Prophets speak the Word of God into the present situation and do so in a way where the wisdom and power (the Divine foolishness and weakness) of that Word can both 'judge' and transform reality by making it more true and whole.

Seeking in Solitude: New Monograph on Eremitical Life

There is a new book out focusing on selected forms of Roman Catholic eremitical life which are contributing to the development of eremitical life today. Among these Bernadette McNary-Zak treats Camaldolese, American Carthusian, Cistercian, and Diocesan or canon 603 eremitical life.

While Seeking in Solitude is essentially concerned with documenting important dimensions of the resurgence of the phenomenon of eremitical life since Vatican II and the Revised Code of Canon Law, it does an especially fine job of dealing with the ecclesial dynamic of the eremitical vocation generally and distinguishing eremitical solitude from mere isolation, as well as treating the triple good or triple advantage of the Camaldolese charism. From my own perspective the single significant limitation of the book is the choice of the Hermits of Bethlehem (Paterson) as a typical expression of c 603 life. At the very least it seems to me that McNary-Zak should have noted that this is actually an exceptional case; while lauras which do not rise to the level of religious communities are possible and are assuredly one way of protecting both solitude and communion, canon 603 is meant to protect, nurture, and govern solitary eremitical life; thus it is unfortunate that solitary diocesan hermits were not also treated in a way which balanced the picture given.

One of the later topics covered in the book which may be new to some is that of eremitical space and the conscious structuring of that sacred space which is so central to contemplative life. In this I think McNary-Zak's otherwise intriguing analysis could have benefited from references to urban hermits (whose creative contributions in this regard she, unfortunately, largely passes over in silence); even so this is an important discussion with far reaching implications for contemporary culture and spirituality for which readers will be grateful. Readers of this blog will also find much that is familiar in the book, especially with regard to the way in which the dialectic of freedom and ecclesial responsibility/expectations as well as the synthesis of the ancient and the contemporary are negotiated and faithfully embodied in the life of the Roman Catholic hermit today. I definitely recommend it.

Hermit Life as Prophetic

[[Hi Sister O'Neal, given that Pope Francis' Apostolic Letter does not even mention canonical hermits and exhorts religious to think of the distinctive characteristic of religious life as prophecy, how does this fit in with your own vocation? I admit I have a very hard time thinking of hermit life as prophetic! It seems selfish and very old-fashioned to me. Prophets always seemed more exciting and into a freshness and newness that challenged those they came to. But hermits sit in their cells and pray. How can that be considered prophetic?]]

This is truly a great set of questions! I am not sure I can do them justice, in fact, but I also look forward to trying. First, though Francis did not mention diocesan hermits explicitly, they are included in the category of consecrated persons to whom the letter is mainly directed. Also, Francis did speak specifically to contemplatives and made suggestions to them regarding ways they could be a prophetic presence in our world. Even so, I believe that my own vocation is profoundly prophetic and I have felt this way for at least the past 25 years or so, and most especially over the past 10 years or so. The key for me is that this vocation is a way of proclaiming the truth, challenge, and promise of the Gospel in and for a world which, at every point, stands for something else entirely.

For instance, my vocation says that we are never truly alone and that God is a constitutive part of our very being. (Consider what a complete absurdity the above picture symbolizing the life of the hermit would represent if neither part of this assertion were true!) We are dialogical events at our very heart and this means that our basic gift and task is our humanity. No matter what else goes on in our lives, no matter what other successes and failures touch or characterize us, this basic charism and challenge is still ours and always something we can, with the grace of God, fulfill. Isn't that the real success of Jesus on the Cross? Namely, that in the midst of abject failure and absolute degradation Jesus remained true to the dialogical reality he was, continued to depend totally on God to make his life (and his failure) meaningful, and remained wholly open to the power of Love-in-Act to transform the world --- even (or especially) the godless realms of sin and death which so condition it at every point. This is indeed a prophetic word our world needs to hear and it is one, I think, hermits can proclaim with their lives precisely because in most every way our world measures success, personal significance, or meaningfulness, the hermit fails to measure up.

Similarly then, the eremitical vocation therefore says that solitude is not the same as isolation. In a world characterized by isolation and, to a tremendous degree, the fear that life is essentially meaningless, especially when we find ourselves alone (Merton used to speak about the terror of boredom and futility), my vocation speaks directly to that and says, "Not so!" In a world where folks seem to feel like exiles and be in search of relationships which allow them to be loved and to feel as though they belong, the hermit reminds us that ultimately speaking, that is beyond any limit or conditioning element, God loves us, holds us to be infinitely precious, and transforms us into persons who CAN love others as well as ourselves. We say with our lives of eremitical solitude that belonging begins with this fundamental relationship and from there extends to family, Church, world at large, and even cosmos. Because we are at home with God and with ourselves, we know that we can be at and make our home anywhere; we can recognize and empathize with others who may feel or be alienated and call them brother or sister precisely because we are in communion with God. One of the reasons I stress the ecclesial nature of the consecrated eremitical vocation in the church is precisely because this stands in such stark and prophetic contrast to more worldly versions of eremitical life which are essentially individualistic and estranged.

Exile is a central category for understanding the eremitical life. In fact, hermits voluntarily embrace exile, a life of distinct alienness and marginality precisely so they can witness to the more profound belonging that characterizes every life in union with God. This dynamic of exile and more profound belonging seems to me to be quintessentially typical of the prophetic life. And of course this is important because life as we know it is a pilgrimage in which we are each exiles to greater and lesser degrees. Whether it is through experiences of acute or chronic illness, betrayal or bereavement, failures in work or studies, loss of friendships or any of the 1000's of things which set us apart from others every day of our lives including, sometimes, our prayer and yearning for God, we know deep down that we are not truly at home and that we are made for something else, something more, something which completes us and gives us (and the rest of creation) rest. Through her voluntary exile and all that characterizes it the hermit witnesses to this something more and to the completion and rest that is ours in God alone. There is no doubt in my mind that this is a prophetic word the world needs to hear.

At the foundation of all of this is the hermit's prayer and penance which she undertakes for God's own sake. God wills to be the answer to the question we are, the completion of a love which seeks fulfillment in another, the rest which comes of truly being heard --- and therefore, truly being precious to and part of God's very life. God seeks through us to transform and bring to completion the creation we are and in which we now live. He seeks to make of it a new creation where heaven and earth entirely interpenetrate one another; He seeks, in other words, to be all in all. If we are aware of the pain, isolation, desperate search for meaning, and struggle of those around us, we must also be aware that our God has revealed himself to us as Emmanuel, God-with-us, but is prevented from realizing this goal at every turn. While Christ was God's unique counterpart, God also seeks in each of us a counterpart to receive and return his love so that he might be Emmanuel more extensively. A hermit gives her life so that she might truly be there for God in at least this small way. She does so so in union with Christ and empowered by the Holy Spirit so that one day, there will be a new heaven and new earth whose heart is life in communion-with-God. It seems to me this is and has always been the very essence of the prophet's work and commission.

By the way, your comments on prophets and the freshness, newness, and excitement of the prophet's life deserve some comment too but, unfortunately, I have to stop here. For now let me say that so long as God --- who is always new (God could not be eternal otherwise) --- is at the center of our lives, the freshness, newness and excitement you mentioned will be there too. While we might not commonly associate these words with contemplative lives of prayer and penance, this is the reason such persons are so essentially happy and sort of "unstoppable" if you know what I mean. Contemplative life and (I am bound to say) eremitical life in particular is an adventure --- no doubt about it! I suspect that people are in search of just such an adventure and, as I have already written in Always Beginners, the reason we almost compulsively seek the newest gadget, car, computer, smart phone, or become shopaholics and the like is because most often we have substituted the quest for the novel (Gk. neos or nova, new in time) for that which is always qualitatively new in our lives (Gk. kainotes, kainos), namely a relationship with the creator God in whom all newness is rooted, a communion with that Love-in-Act who makes all things new. In this too hermits (and anyone who makes a vow or embraces the value of evangelical poverty) serve as a prophetic presence and speak a prophetic word to our world.

Please note that I have written about all of these things in the past so I am aware that much of this post is repetitive; I have simply not tended to link them to the word prophetic so, thank you (along with Pope Francis' Apostolic Letter) for providing the opportunity to do that.

Second Week of "The Sisterhood"

Well, I must say, The Sisterhood continues to surprise in a favorable way. The Sisters themselves continue to be the real deal and the young women who have come for this "come and see" visit (an entirely informal step in a discernment process) are emerging as more than cookie cutter or stereotypical characters --- though in the main they are (unfortunately) very much products of the culture. It is this basic dynamic which seems to me to continue to drive the entire show: women religious live a mature and counter cultural life, one which is essentially generous and other-focused (first on Christ and then all those precious to Christ) and have taken in young women who are self-centered, immature, individualistic (as is our culture), and yet, who seem to desire to give themselves to Christ. The drama involved stems from the clash of these two worlds, and from the Sisters' ministry to those often-wounded women who have come to them purportedly "discerning" religious life.

Tuesday night's program was surprising because most of the women showed some unexpected depth. Both Stacey and Francesca struggled emotionally with the demands of the Sisters' apostolate though Stacey's struggle could be more easily transformed into the quieter and deep empathy and compassion required for pastoral ministry. Francesca has some personal healing to do first. Sister Peter ministered to her and it was refreshing to see her ask for and receive space from the camera persons so she could  deal privately with Francesca's needs. The glimpse into what Sisters do everyday in ministry and the way they live their lives is gratifying; much of what is shown of these things is done merely by implication but evenso I think folks are getting a good sense of what the day in and day out lives of religious are about, even with the great diversity that exists from institute to institute. One of the important lessons in all of this had to do with instruction on "employments" or chores (what many Sisters call "charges"). While Christie is bemoaning the fact that she "showed up and Jesus didn't" (more about that in a moment) the lesson being taught in doing daily tasks is "we expect Sisters to bring Jesus with them into their work!"

Sister Cyril Methodius, O Carm.

Christie's, perhaps sincere, but overly-romanticized and eroticized version of Jesus as flirting Bridegroom or spouse is not serving her well in a situation where one is expected to come to know and live Christ's love in more ordinary ways. It was a bit surprising to hear her suggest that Christ was not present or could not be found here in this convent. Even those Sisters who very specifically resonate with the spousal mysticism of Christ know full well that the everyday experience of Christ's presence and love is more mundane, reveals itself (for instance) in the Words of Scripture or the face of our neighbor rather than in erotically charged experiences like those Christie describes. We know on a profound level rooted in trust that he is present with us right here and right now. One cannot survive on an emotional bond alone nor is a specifically Charismatic prayer life enough to sustain us day in and day out. Neither is it always possible to find a time and place for solitary prayer (keenly aware of the irony now, I say this as one who got in trouble most often in initial formation for "being alone too much"), but when thirty-eight religious women drive a distance to share a last bit of community fun in honor of one's soon-to-occur departure, even a hermit like myself knows it is time to set solitary prayer or journaling aside. Here was one more place Sister Cyril's frustrated, "Get a grip! It's not all about you!" was also appropriate. So was St Teresa's classic observation that God is found amongst the pots and pans, or St Benedict's stress on seeking God in the ordinary.

Claire was definitely the character that got on my last nerve this week. Last week she was commenting on peoples' prayer lives and so forth and I noted that that made me wince, but this week she became more explicitly judgmental and open about what she thought to be her own "superiority" and "greater maturity". When Claire went to Sister Cyril to snitch on others while purportedly not knowing how to "think about" what offended her and couching stuff in the language of concern for these others, I found myself reminded of someone who had been in my own class in initial formation. Passive aggression doesn't work well in religious life and snitching under the pretense of caring is definitely not accepted. In any case Sister Cyril saw clearly what Claire was doing and not only allowed her to go through the process of explaining a highly sexually provocative dance move ("twerking" --- a new word for Cyril and for myself) without rescuing her from the task, but commented that as we grow in holiness we have to be very careful of judgmentalism. Her related comment that we must not allow a matter of conscience to become bias was excellent but I would argue a bit with Cyril on this one and say that when there is true growth in holiness judgmentalism, pretense, and a sense of superiority all go by the wayside; for sure though that doesn't happen right away. In any case, she handled the situation magnificently and folded several important lessons into a series of simple observations that began essentially, "What I think is not important; it is what you think that is important," and again, "Well, what I try to do is. . ."

One of the scenes which was most troubling was watching the girls deal with their tension from the day's exposure to the Sisters' apostolate among the elderly and dying by drinking and acting out. Let me be clear, these girls are not religious or anywhere near being religious. Further, religious do have drinks before dinner or wine with dinner, especially on special occasions, but we do not generally use drinking as an occasion of acting out nor of numbing emotions. This was one of the points made by implication in the program. At the end of the girls' stay at the Carmelite Motherhouse they were surprised by the entire community of Sisters joining them for ice cream at "Holy Cow Ice Cream" and were reminded that Sisters work hard, pray hard, but they also play hard. It is an intense life, but it is also balanced and healthy with prayer at the center of everything; numbing oneself to its challenges or acting out in the ways the girls felt were entirely normal are not a part of it.

Next episode the girls move to another convent with a different congregation of Sisters. I am personally pleased to have gotten a glimpse of these Carmelites and especially pleased at the intelligence and wisdom they showed. Sister Peter was terrific in working with Francesca and explaining about what memory is accessible when serious impairment is present as well. I am also grateful the entire community was protected from disruption during most of their everyday life. No novices or professed Sisters who were not directly engaged with the girls were used in the programming or filmed in their usual activities with the exception of the chapel scenes at the beginning and the end of the girls' stay. (In this regard I must say I felt more than a bit sorry for the novice who was paired in the pew with Christie and might have been distracted by the charismatic praying in tongues (?) and other gestures which Christie insisted on using during adoration.)

Sister Maria Therese, O Carm.

I continue to wonder how typical of young women entering religious life these days these girls are. I know that most would not pass the usual screening procedures and would at least be asked to wait. One cloistered nun said, however, that this is pretty typical of the kinds of girls who show up to the parlor for their initial contact with the community. What comes across very clearly is that the actual formation of a young (or older) woman into a religious or monastic is an intense and lengthy process. There are no short cuts. Here I recall again Sister Maria Therese's comment that she has been a Carmelite for thirty-four years and is "still trying". Transformation into a Religious who truly embodies a particular charism (like that of Teresa of Avila and the Carmelites, Francis and the Franciscans, or Romuald and the Camaldolese) is something that takes real time, commitment, and perseverance --- all of which are countercultural values in a world where relationships are self-serving and do not last, credentials can be bought, and life achievements must occur quickly and easily --- (cf Heald college's typical approach to education here: "Get in, get out, get ahead!").

My general impression at the end of two weeks? Well done Sisters! You are doing us all proud! I wonder if several of you shouldn't be getting a religious  equivalent of purple hearts or medals of valor!? Maybe all contemporary formation personnel should! It is demanding, intense, critically responsible work and this series has given a glimpse of what that means. Interestingly, I think that comes through even as questions remain for me regarding how real these "discerners" truly are; especially I wonder still how strictly cast they are each for a specific "character" approaching religious life and how cooperative each girl is in fostering this vs how truly herself she is being.

Son of David! Brother Mickey McGrath, OSFS

On the Feast of Christ the King my parish was lucky enough to be visited by Brother Mickey McGrath, OSFS who was in the area for a conference in the South Bay. Bro Mickey is an Oblate of St Francis de Sales, the same congregation as my pastor, and during the visit Mickey stayed at the parish and did the homily for the Feast. He took slides of his work and projected them on the wall in the sanctuary; he then did a running commentary on the Feast via each of the pictures. It was an amazing presentation. All of the works related to Jesus as King, or to Kingship in the OT and thus to the story of the multitude of ways God dwells among us and is (or wills to be) sovereign. The depth and breadth of the scriptural references was stunning and exhilarating.

One of the pictures especially spoke to me. It is called Son of David and reflects not only King David and his Son, but also Jesus as Son of David and God's sovereign and merciful One. (Whenever Jesus healed people "they had tended to call out to him, Son of David, have pity on me/us!") In the foreground is the Son of David figure holding a harp which reminds us of the psalms David is supposed to have authored but which stand as the singing heart of the OT. There is a river and a pomegranate tree reminding us not only of the tree of life and the movement to freedom of the Exodus but of the rich symbolism of the fruit as well. In Judaism the pomegranate (rimon) symbolizes, "righteousness because it is said to have 613 seeds, which corresponds with the 613 mitzvot, or commandments, of the Torah. For this reason and others, it is customary to eat pomegranates on Rosh Hashanah. Moreover, the pomegranate represents fruitfulness, knowledge, learning, and wisdom." The river and tree also remind us of the Israelites' exile and corresponding plaint --- We hung up our lyres, for our captives there required of us songs; but how can we sing the songs of Zion in a foreign land? Likewise then the harp in Jesus' hands reminds us of the song that Jesus awakens in our hearts when he brings us to freedom and then, eventually, home. 

For me all of these meanings have personal significance, especially because so much of my time is spent singing psalms, but also because of the idea of playing an instrument and singing while in a state of exile. Eremitical life generally (and certainly my own) is joyful and an instance of God's own song even when it must sometimes be sung in a minor key; after all, exile (and being at home in exile) is a very big and meaningful piece the eremitical vocation and my own personal story. The consolation and inspiration of the Holy Spirit is also represented in the painting --- from Whom else do we sing and in Whom else's power are we made song? (Here I also remember Dom Robert Hale's comment that God sustains us like a singer sustains a note!) The name Stillsong Hermitage reflects all this and more.

Because I was so struck by the painting (and because Mickey left the Church early so I missed talking to him directly), I asked my pastor if he could check to see if there were prints available and if so, to get some information for me from Bro Mickey.  Unfortunately, I hadn't seen Fr John all week to follow up on the results but Sunday morning, when I came into the sacristy after Mass to take off my cowl and get ready to go outside, a flattish wrapped package with my name on it was sitting on top of my vest there on the vestment press. I wondered vaguely  if, because of the day and it's size and shape, it could be an Advent calendar --- though no one else seemed to be getting one! Anyway, after making sure I did not have to wait for Christmas to open the package (Such a relief! I probably would NOT have been able to do so anyway!) I realized what it MIGHT be. And so it was, namely, a ready to frame 11"X14" print of Brother Mickey's, Son of David! WOO HOO!!

For a chance to "meet" Brother Mickey and to see a face of religious life you may not have met yourself, check out the following videos. One of the points he makes which resonates with my own theology and work is that our God is found in the unexpected and even the unacceptable place. Our world is at least potentially sacramental, always and everywhere. We seek God wherever we are and wherever we go and we are open to allowing God to transfigure all things. Brother Mickey's commitment to this truly joyful vision of reality comes through in what he says and assuredly it comes through in his art.

For those of you who like this print (it is more vibrant than shows here, I think) please check out all of Brother Mickey (O'Neill!!) McGrath's work at www.EmbracedbyGod.org. It is extraordinary with vibrant colors, thoughtful and multi-layered composition, and wonderful dashes of humor and contemporary tones, notes, faces, and scenes. (He had slides of Mary holding Jesus and sitting in a modern rocking chair because his Mother had and loved sitting in just such a rocking chair, while his paintings of contemporary Saints, Founders, Popes, etc are unique.)

Another painting I particularly loved is Christ the Teacher which has Jesus with his arms full of torah scrolls, books, papers, and even computers reflecting all of the ways the Gospel of God has come to us over the history of his Proclamation. It is available in a print but also as note cards. Jesus the Student is also lovely and there are any number of paintings of Mary and the various Saints which remind us of how ordinary such extraordinary holiness is meant to be (as well as how extraordinary we each are called to be in our ordinariness). Incarnation is a thread woven throughout the work again and again. The prints are generally available in several sizes (specific prints each seem to be available in only one of these sizes), are very reasonable in price. Please consider contributing to this unique and significant ministry!

Hermit Life as Prophetic

[[Hi Sister O'Neal, given that Pope Francis' Apostolic Letter does not even mention canonical hermits and exhorts religious to think of the distinctive characteristic of religious life as prophecy, how does this fit in with your own vocation? I admit I have a very hard time thinking of hermit life as prophetic! It seems selfish and very old-fashioned to me. Prophets always seemed more exciting and into a freshness and newness that challenged those they came to. But hermits sit in their cells and pray. How can that be considered prophetic?]]

This is truly a great set of questions! I am not sure I can do them justice, in fact, but I also look forward to trying. First, though Francis did not mention diocesan hermits explicitly, they are included in the category of consecrated persons to whom the letter is mainly directed. Also, Francis did speak specifically to contemplatives and made suggestions to them regarding ways they could be a prophetic presence in our world. Even so, I believe that my own vocation is profoundly prophetic and I have felt this way for at least the past 25 years or so, and most especially over the past 10 years or so. The key for me is that this vocation is a way of proclaiming the truth, challenge, and promise of the Gospel in and for a world which, at every point, stands for something else entirely.

For instance, my vocation says that we are never truly alone and that God is a constitutive part of our very being. We are dialogical events at our very heart and this means that our basic gift and task is our humanity. No matter what else goes on in our lives, no matter what other successes and failures touch or characterize us, this basic charism and challenge is still ours and always something we can, with the grace of God, fulfill. Isn't that the real success of Jesus on the Cross? Namely, that in the midst of abject failure and absolute degradation Jesus remained true to the dialogical reality he was, continued to depend totally on God to make his life (and his failure) meaningful, and remained wholly open to the power of Love-in-Act to transform the world --- even the godless realms of sin and death. This is indeed a prophetic word our world needs to hear and it is one, I think, hermits can proclaim with their lives precisely because in most every way our world measures success, personal significance, or meaningfulness, the hermit fails to measure up.

Similarly then, the eremitical vocation therefore says that solitude is not the same as isolation. In a world characterized by isolation and, to a tremendous degree, the fear that life is essentially meaningless, especially when we find ourselves alone (Merton used to speak about the terror of boredom and futility), my vocation speaks directly to that and says, "Not so!" In a world where folks seem to feel like exiles and be in search of relationships which allow them to be loved and to feel as though they belong, the hermit reminds us that God loves us, holds us to be infinitely precious, and transforms us into persons who CAN love others as well as ourselves. We say with our lives of eremitical solitude that belonging begins with this fundamental relationship and from there extends to family, Church, world at large, and even cosmos. Because we are at home with God and with ourselves, we know that we can be at and make our home anywhere; we can recognize and empathize with others who may feel or be alienated and call them brother or sister precisely because we are in communion with God. One of the reasons I stress the ecclesial nature of the consecrated eremitical vocation in the church is precisely because this stands in such stark and prophetic contrast to more worldly versions of eremitical life which are essentially individualistic and estranged.

Exile is a central category for understanding the eremitical life. In fact, hermits voluntarily embrace exile, a life of distinct alienness and marginality precisely so they can witness to the more profound belonging that characterizes every life in union with God. This dynamic of exile and more profound belonging seems to me to be quintessentially typical of the prophetic life. And of course this is important because life as we know it is a pilgrimage in which we are each exiles to greater and lesser degrees. Whether it is through experiences of acute or chronic illness, betrayal or bereavement, failures in work or studies, loss of friendships or any of the 1000's of things which set us apart from others every day of our lives including, sometimes, our prayer and yearning for God, we know deep down that we are not truly at home and that we are made for something else, something more, something which completes us and gives us rest. Through her voluntary exile and all that characterizes it the hermit witnesses to this something more and to the completion and rest that is ours in God alone. There is no doubt in my mind that this is a prophetic word the world needs to hear.

At the foundation of all of this is the hermit's prayer and penance which she undertakes for God's own sake. God wills to be the answer to the question we are, the completion of a love which seeks fulfillment in another, the rest which comes of truly being heard --- and therefore, truly being precious to and part of God's very life. God seeks through us to transform and bring to completion the creation we are and in which we now live. He seeks to make of it a new creation where heaven and earth entirely interpenetrate one another; He seeks, in other words, to be all in all. If we are aware of the pain, isolation, desperate search for meaning, and struggle of those around us, we must also be aware that our God has revealed himself to us as Emmanuel, God-with-us, but is prevented from realizing this goal at every turn. While Christ was God's unique counterpart, God also seeks in each of us a counterpart to receive and return his love so that he might be Emmanuel more extensively. A hermit gives her life so that she might truly be there for God in at least this small way. She does so so in union with Christ and empowered by the Holy Spirit so that one day, there will be a new heaven and new earth whose heart is life in communion-with-God. It seems to me this is and has always been the very essence of the prophet's work and commission.

By the way, your comments on prophets and the freshness, newness, and excitement of the prophet's life deserve some comment too but, unfortunately, I have to leave this here. For now let me say that so long as God --- who is always new (God could not be eternal otherwise) --- is at the center of our lives, the freshness, newness and excitement you mentioned will be there too. While we might not commonly associate these words with contemplative lives of prayer and penance, this is the reason such persons are so essentially happy and sort of "unstoppable" if you know what I mean. Contemplative life and (I am bound to say) eremitical life in particular is an adventure --- no doubt about it! I suspect that people are in search of just such an adventure and, as I have already written in Always Beginners, the reason we almost compulsively seek the newest gadget, car, computer, smart phone, or become shopaholics and the like is because most often we have substituted the quest for the novel (Gk. nova, new in time) for that which is always qualitatively new in our lives (Gk. kainotes, kainos), namely a relationship with the creator God in whom all newness is rooted, a communion with that Love-in-Act who makes all things new. In this too hermits (and anyone who makes a vow or embraces the value of evangelical poverty) serve as a prophetic presence and speak a prophetic word to our world.

Please note that I have written about all of these things in the past so I am aware that much of this post is repetitive; I have simply not tended to link them to the word prophetic so, thank you (along with Pope Francis' Apostolic Letter) for providing the opportunity to do that.

Religious Should Never Abandon Prophecy!

In Pope Francis' Apostolic Letter to Consecrated Persons, in the section devoted to his expectations from this year of grace for consecrated life, Francis writes,

"I am counting on you to wake up the world", since the distinctive sign of consecrated life is prophecy." He continues, "As I told the Superiors General: Radical evangelical living is not only for religious; it is demanded of everyone. But religious follow the Lord in a special way, a prophetic way." This is the priority that is needed right now: "to be prophets who witness to how Jesus lived on the earth. . .a religious must never abandon prophecy".  

And further: [[Prophets receive from God the ability to scrutinize the times in which they live and to interpret events: they are like sentinels who keep watch in the night and sense the coming of the dawn (cf. Is 21:11-12). Prophets know God and they know the men and women who are their brothers and sisters. They are able to discern and denounce the evil of sin and injustice. Because they are free, they are beholden to no one but God, and they have no interest other than God. Prophets tend to be on the side of the poor and the powerless, for they know that God himself is on their side.

So I trust that, rather than living in some utopia, you will find ways to create “alternate spaces”, where the Gospel approach of self-giving, fraternity, embracing differences, and love of one another can thrive. Monasteries, communities, centres of spirituality, schools, hospitals, family shelters – all these are places which the charity and creativity born of your charisms have brought into being, and with constant creativity must continue to bring into being. They should increasingly be the leaven for a society inspired by the Gospel, a “city on a hill”, which testifies to the truth and the power of Jesus’ words.

At times, like Elijah and Jonah, you may feel the temptation to flee, to abandon the task of being a prophet because it is too demanding, wearisome or apparently fruitless. But prophets know that they are never alone. As he did with Jeremiah, so God encourages us: “Be not afraid of them, for I am with you to deliver you” (Jer 1:8).]]

The occasion of this year is the 50th anniversary of the publication of the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, Lumen Gentium as well as of the Decree Perfectae Caritatis. These documents have driven the reform and return to the sources which has characterized religious life for the past 50 years. Both the implementation of these documents as well as the accent on being a prophetic presence in the world has met with much criticism of late so it is refreshing to have Pope Francis renew an official recognition of these underpinnings of  the dynamic of contemporary religious life.

As a hermit it is clear to me that Pope Francis esteems all forms of consecrated life, but I strained a bit to hear any reference to eremitical life or the charismatic witness consecrated hermits give in our world. That is really not surprising given the brevity and general focus of the document. I do think it is important for diocesan hermits to reflect on the various expectations Francis outlines as having of religious and of this year: 1) That the old saying will always be true, "Where there are religious, there is joy", 2) that we wake up the world because the distinctive sign of our vocations is prophecy, 3) that we truly be "experts in communion" and make the Church the home and school of communion, 4) to come out of ourselves and go forth to the existential peripheries, (hermits do this in a unique way but this and #3 are especially important in making sure we are not living isolation but rather the silence of solitude which is a covenantal and even a communal reality lived for the sake of others).

And 5) that each form of consecrated life will ask themselves what God and people today are asking of them. For the hermit, whose life of 'the silence of solitude' is to be a gift lived out on behalf of others, this remains a critical question no emphasis on union with God allows us to cease asking. I would argue, in fact, that union with God and an emphasis on the "unitive way," requires this question always be asked and even gives it greater impetus and urgency because God is the ground and source of all that exists as well as the Love-in-Act that binds all together in Love. To the extent we are truly in the 'unitive way' we will find ourselves called by God to love others in concrete, substantial ways as well --- just as the Love of God spills over naturally in creation, covenant, consolation, and completion. We will never be able to cease asking ourselves what others ask of and need from us.

As Francis also writes: [[Only by such concern for the needs of the world, and by docility to the promptings of the Spirit, will this Year of Consecrated Life become an authentic kairos, a time rich in God’s grace, a time of transformation.]] This is as undeniably true for the eremitical life as it is for any other form of consecrated life!

Year of Consecrated Life Has Begun!

Year of Consecrated Life begins; Pope issues apostolic letter

The Year of Consecrated Life began on November 30 with a Mass celebrated by Cardinal João Braz de Aviz in St. Peter’s Basilica. The prefect of the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life took the place of Pope Francis, who was in Istanbul on the final day of his apostolic journey to Turkey.

The Mass was preceded by a November 29 prayer vigil at the Basilica of Santa Maria Maggiore and by the November 28 release of an apostolic letter by the Pontiff to all consecrated persons-- that is, those who have made vows of chastity, poverty, and obedience. The year will conclude on February 2, 2016.

In his apostolic letter, Pope Francis said that the year’s aims are “to look to the past with gratitude,” “to live the present with passion,” and “to embrace the future with hope.” He stated:

The question we have to ask ourselves during this Year is if and how we too are open to being challenged by the Gospel; whether the Gospel is truly the “manual” for our daily living and the decisions we are called to make. The Gospel is demanding: it demands to be lived radically and sincerely. It is not enough to read it (even though the reading and study of Scripture is essential), nor is it enough to meditate on it (which we do joyfully each day). Jesus asks us to practice it, to put his words into effect in our lives.

Once again, we have to ask ourselves: Is Jesus really our first and only love, as we promised he would be when we professed our vows? Only if he is, will we be empowered to love, in truth and mercy, every person who crosses our path. For we will have learned from Jesus the meaning and practice of love. We will be able to love because we have his own heart.

Our founders and foundresses shared in Jesus’ own compassion when he saw the crowds who were like sheep without a shepherd. Like Jesus, who compassionately spoke his gracious word, healed the sick, gave bread to the hungry and offered his own life in sacrifice, so our founders and foundresses sought in different ways to be the service of all those to whom the Spirit sent them. They did so by their prayers of intercession, their preaching of the Gospel, their works of catechesis, education, their service to the poor and the infirm… The creativity of charity is boundless; it is able to find countless new ways of bringing the newness of the Gospel to every culture and every corner of society.

The Year of Consecrated Life challenges us to examine our fidelity to the mission entrusted to us. Are our ministries, our works and our presence consonant with what the Spirit asked of our founders and foundresses? Are they suitable for carrying out today, in society and the Church, those same ministries and works? Do we have the same passion for our people, are we close to them to the point of sharing in their joys and sorrows, thus truly understanding their needs and helping to respond to them?

The Pontiff also called upon the consecrated to be joyful and prophetic witnesses and “experts in communion.”

“I also expect from you what I have asked all the members of the Church: to come out of yourselves and go forth to the existential peripheries,” he added. “‘Go into all the world’; these were the last words which Jesus spoke to his followers and which he continues to address to us (cf. Mk 16:15). A whole world awaits us: men and women who have lost all hope, families in difficulty, abandoned children, young people without a future, the elderly, sick and abandoned, those who are rich in the world’s goods but impoverished within, men and women looking for a purpose in life, thirsting for the divine.”

“Don’t be closed in on yourselves, don’t be stifled by petty squabbles, don’t remain a hostage to your own problems,” he continued. “These will be resolved if you go forth and help others to resolve their own problems, and proclaim the Good News. You will find life by giving life, hope by giving hope, love by giving love.”

For a printable copy of the letter, please go to: Francis' Apostolic Letter to Consecrated Persons on the Occasion of the Year of Consecrated Life