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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sister Marietta Fahey, SHF

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

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

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

Diocesan Hermits and Religious Sisters: Supported by the Church?

[[Hi Sister, I wondered if you are taken care of like all religious Sisters are taken care of: housing, food and other needs met financially and otherwise, education, vacation, retreat, insurance, transportation, etc? Does your diocese and parish take care of you and pay you?]]

Thanks for your questions. I have to take exception to the way the question is phrased. It sounds to me like you are mistaken in your understanding of Religious Sisters and their relationship to their congregation or order, etc. If so, it is a common misunderstanding. If not, my apologies for mishearing you.

First, think of the Sisters' community or congregation (institute) as a large extended family with all members contributing what they can to the common purse through their own work, etc. A Sister will do this from the day she enters or is received to the day she truly retires. It is from this common purse that all of the Sisters, including those who are retired, infirm, etc., are cared for and all expenses are covered. Today, women religious have also paid into the social security fund and thus qualify for Social Security, Medicaid, and sometimes other aid. Remember that a congregation husbands the funds that come into them carefully so that all members have access to what they need to live and minister. 

Yes, that can include some forms of education (especially graduate level or other special training); most congregations today require candidates to have their undergraduate work done and be free of student loan debt before they enter the congregation. Even so, the money that comes to the congregation does so largely as a matter of the Sisters' earnings, careful investments, and some contributions or donations from benefactors. It is not so much that Sisters are "taken care of" as though they never work a day in their lives; rather, they join a really large extended family and work their entire adult lives supporting the "family" both in their living and in their ministering. 

More, Sisters serve on the leadership team of their congregation to make decisions for the group for the future. With the assistance of the whole congregation, they make major decisions regarding the buying and selling of property, health care, building funds, spiritual needs of the Sisters, ongoing presence and ministry of the congregation in the larger community, and more. A community I have written about in the last year or two is the Sisters of the Holy Family. They have been planning for the "completion" of their lives, both individually and as a congregation; in doing this they demolished their Motherhouse to construct some smaller cottages for the Sisters and gave over some of their property for low-income housing, a park, in-home health care for seniors and the Sisters (On Lok), etc. 

They worked with builders, contractors, architects, service providers, and caregivers as well as the City of Fremont over a period of years in bringing this series of projects to fruition. In all of this, the Sisters assured that the congregation's mission and charism would continue on even after all of the Sisters had gone home to God. All of this and more is supported by the Sisters themselves, from their own earnings, from donations, and from whatever prudent investments they make with those earnings and gifts. The Church does NOT support religious women any more than they support others' extended families in the diocese.

As for your question re me and other diocesan hermits, no, I am not supported by the Church or a religious congregation. Neither am I paid by my parish for the work I do there. I do spiritual direction on a sliding scale (which means some directees pay me something and others do not) and I receive money (SSI) due to disability. The diocese does not support me in any way, either financially, or via insurance coverage, housing, etc. The same is true for all diocesan hermits I know of. Each one supports him/herself as s/he can including housing, insurance, transportation, and so forth. The expenses I have for retreat, home visits, occasional workshops, etc come out of the money I save. (For religious Sisters belonging to a congregation their needs in these things are budgeted by the congregation for each Sister in a general way and the Sister then budgets for things in more specific ways. There are canonical requirements regarding retreat, for instance, so this is a congregational expense.)

I have answered this question before so you might also check out those answers. (I don't think they are much different, however, than what I have just written.) Also, for a more detailed account of what the Sisters of the Holy Family have done with their property in Fremont, CA check the labels to the right. The projects undertaken by the SHF are something I could not be prouder of; they speak really well of the strength, intelligence, and creativity of women religious in their faithfulness to the values they profess throughout their lives of generous ministry (especially religious poverty) even as they plan for completion. They deserve real respect for this.

A Contemplative Moment: Seeing the World with New Eyes

"The Desert: Transformation"

from The Eremitic Life

by

Cornelius Wencel, Er Cam

[[The Christian anchorite is not a gnostic, whose isolation from the world takes precedence in order that [she] can secure for [her]self the possibility of reaching "the land of pure spirituality". Such an approach is obviously an illusion which, detected too late, will certainly lead all who adopt it to spiritual disaster. Even provided we agree on the illusionary character of the created world, such an assumption may be justified only if we take into account its relativity. It is true that created things can deceive and beguile us, though it is not because they are deceitful all by themselves, but because the human heart, tangled up in webs of sin and greed, is eager to take pleasure and satisfaction in them. The anchorite never gives up and renounces the world of things out of contempt for them. [She] does so in order to achieve the inner space necessary to appreciate their real value and inner beauty.

Leaving the world and inner renunciation are the path to discovering the logic and truth of the created world. Fathoming inner structures and meanings, the hermit realizes still more clearly that the ultimate value of the world is not constituted by the world itself, but it transcends the world soundlessly. What is essential for human being is the perception of things that last and are eternal. What is needed is a certain distance providing space for authentic freedom of mind and heart, in order to perceive the world and all its problems in truth and love, which means in God. By finding the whole creation at its very Source, the hermit becomes the person able to contemplate. The hermit's contemplation of reality is [her] special way of perceiving it through the eyes of faith. This kind of perception reveals to [her]  the rays of God's magnificence and glory. . . .This truth, however, should be understood and proclaimed not just verbally or intellectually, but above all by means of humbly accepting the gift of our own existence. The acceptance of the gift brings about the inner necessity of giving it back to its donor in love. The need to make such a sacrifice is the essence of  Christian ascetic life and inner conversion.]]

Note: I chose this reading from Cornelius Wencel for several reasons. The main one has to do with the Solemnity of the Ascension and the way it demands that we learn to see everything with new eyes. The disciples had to get their eyes out of the clouds and onto the world newly constituted around them. In Christ, they (and we) are gradually taught to see all of reality with the eyes of an artist like Bro Mickey McGrath, osfs (see Solemnity of the Ascension). 

Reflection for the Solemnity of the Ascension: Seeing our New Creation with the Eyes of God (Reprise)

Sister Laurel O'Neal, Er Dio

In one of the Star Trek Next Generation episodes, Commander Geordi La Forge and Ensign Ro Larren are caught in a transporter accident. While returning to the ship, a surge of power or radiation causes them to "materialize" back on the Enterprise in a way where they cannot be seen or heard. The transporter pad looks empty; they seem to have been lost. Neither can they interact in their usual way with the ordinary world of space and time; for instance, they can walk through walls, reach through control panels or other "solid" objects, and stand between two people who are conversing without being perceived. The dimension of reality Geordi and Ro now inhabit interpenetrates the other more everyday world of space and time, and interfaces with it in some way without being identical with it. In other words, their new existence is both continuous and discontinuous with their old existence; Geordi and Ro are both present and absent at the same time. In Star Trek parlance this new way of being embodied is called, ”phased” -- because it is a presence slightly “out of phase with our own”. While their friends believe that Geordi and Ro are gone forever and begin to grieve, Geordi and Ro are still vitally present and they leave signs of this presence everywhere --- if only these can be recognized and their friends empowered to see them as they are.


Especially, I think this story helps us begin to imagine and think about what has been so important during all the readings we have heard during this Easter Season and is celebrated in a new and even more mysterious way with the feast of the Ascension. In these stories Jesus is present in a way which is both like and unlike, continuous and discontinuous with, normal existence; it is a presence which can be described as, and even mistaken for absence. Today’s first reading from Acts describes a difficult and demanding “departure” or “absence” but one which has the disciples misguidedly looking up into the skies --- something the angels upbraid them for. Meanwhile, the consoling and hope-filled word we are left with at the conclusion of Matthew’s gospel conveys the promise of an abiding presence which will never leave us. Jesus affirms, [[And behold, I am with you always, until the end of the age.]] In these readings, absence and Presence are held together in a strange tension.

We know that Resurrection itself represented the coming of something new, a new kind of expanded or less limited incarnation, a new embodied presence or materiality where Jesus can be encountered and recognized with the eyes of faith. What is made clear time and again as Jesus picnicked on the beach with his disciples, invited them to touch him, or even when he warns Mary of Magdala not to cling to him in this form, is that his resurrection is bodily. Yes, it is different from the kind of materiality Jesus had before his death. He is no longer mortal and so we are told he walks through walls and breaches locked doors or otherwise comes and goes without anyone seeing how. The gospel writers want us to understand that Jesus was not merely "raised" in our minds and hearts (though we will certainly find him there!); neither is the risen Jesus disembodied spirit or a naked immortal soul. Finally, he has not relinquished his humanity. God has raised the human Jesus to a new bodily life which is both earthly and heavenly.

Only in Luke’s version of the story is Ascension spoken of directly or treated as a separate event occurring 40 days after the resurrection. (Mark's Gospel originally ended short of the Ascension story.) Here Luke shifts our attention from Jesus’ continuing earthly but mysterious presence to his having been “taken up bodily into heaven”. But how can this be? We might be forgiven for thinking that surely the Star Trek story is easier to believe than this fantastical and incredible tale on which we base our lives! So, what is Luke doing here? What are we really celebrating on this feast?

What Luke and his original readers knew was that in the Scriptures, "Heaven” is a careful Semitic way of speaking about God’s own self --- just as the presence of clouds in today’s reading from Acts refers to the mysteriousness of God’s presence. Heaven is not a remote place in space one can locate with the proper astrometric instruments and coordinates; nor are unbelieving cosmonauts and hard-nosed empiricists the only ones to make such a mistake. After all, as we hear today, even the disciples need to have their attention drawn away from searching the skies and brought back to earth where Jesus will truly be found! Heaven refers to God’s own life shared with others.


Luke tells the story in a way that helps us see that in Christ God has not only conquered death, but (he) has made room for humanity itself (and in fact, for all of creation) within (his) own Divine life. Christ is the “first fruits” of this new way of existing where heaven (Divine Life) and earth (created life) now interpenetrate one another. God is present in our world of space and time now in a way he could not have been apart from Jesus’ openness and responsiveness (what the Scriptures call his “obedience”), and Jesus is present in a way he could not be without existing in God. Jesus’ own ministry among us continues as more and more, Jesus draws us each and all into that same Divine life in the power of the Holy Spirit of the Father and Son.


St John uses the puzzling language of mutual indwelling to describe this reality: "The Father is in me and I am in him" . . ." we know that we abide in him and he is in us." When theologians in both Western and Eastern churches speak of this whole dynamic, their summary is paradoxical and shocking: [[God became human so that humans might become gods]]. And as one contemporary Bible scholar puts the matter, “We who are baptized into Christ's death are citizens of heaven colonizing the earth.” As such, we are also called on to develop the eyes of faith that allow us to see this new world as it is shot through with the promise of fullness. Some of us experienced what this means Ascension week 2020.

Three years ago Bro Mickey McGrath, osfs visited our parish, and gave us a virtual tour of his Camden ‘hood by sharing the work he had drawn and painted from Holy Week onward during his own sheltering in place. Many of us got a chance to see the streets he walked every day through his eyes, that is, through the eyes of faith and love. What Bro Mickey showed us was not an idealized Camden without violence, poverty, suffering or struggle; those were all present. But through his eyes we saw the greenhouse cathedral of a neighborhood garden, the communion lines and Eucharistic Presence of the community food pantry, the way of the cross of a crippled man as he limped up the street, a broken and bold statue of Mary standing as a symbol of perseverance and hope despite everything, and another more contemporary version made even more beautiful by a prostitute's gift of a single flower. And everywhere reality that could have been accurately drawn in harsh tones of pain and struggle were more accurately shown awash with life, beauty, and hope splashed in colors of brilliant orange and purple, gold and green --- the colors of life, royalty, holiness, newness and potential.

Today’s Feast is not so much about the departure or absence of Jesus as it is his new, transfigured, universal, and even cosmic presence which in turn transforms everything it touches with the life of God. Again, as Matthew affirms in today's Gospel reading, [[. . . Behold, I am with you always, until the end of time.]] The world we live in is not the one that existed before Jesus’ death, and resurrection. Heaven and earth now interpenetrate one another in a way that may sound suspiciously to some like bad science fiction. We know its truth, however, whenever we can see this New Creation with the eyes of faith and love --- that is, whenever we can see ourselves and the world around us with the very eyes of God. It is the only way we will become disciples ourselves --- or truly make disciples of all nations.

Negative Reactions to Eremitical Life?

[[Dear Sr Laurel, Did you find, or do you still find that some people in your parish, family, or friends react rather negatively to the eremitic life? I am a quiet person and really only talk about the way I am living to those who ask. Perhaps that is because I am still in the early stages- finding my way, so to speak, and trying to explain with any depth or clarity is still a bit awkward. I have experienced some pushback from a few people that leave me wondering where they are coming from. It seems to me that at the heart of it all, the call to an eremitic life is an opportunity to renew one’s baptismal call not necessarily in a different way but rather the same way but to a more radical degree. I see it as occurring along a continuum but as I said more radical expression of what all Christians are called to do. Do you think that a person might take a negative stance because he/she feels challenged to herself move forward along the continuum and that presents an uncomfortable proposition???]]

Good to hear from you. Thanks for the question! While I agree with you on eremitic life being a chance to live one's baptismal commitment radically, I think we disagree on this way of life not being a different way of doing so than for most people. We are not speaking about adding a bit more silence or solitude, or praying a bit more assiduously; all that can be a matter of temperament as well as commitment. Eremitical life, it seems to me, is truly different, more radical --- yes, but also different in its goals, methods, and purpose than most ways of living out one's baptismal commitments. On the other hand, I do agree eremitical life speaks to every Christian regarding the living out of baptismal commitments and can encourage them to imagine just what these commitments might really mean beyond some nominal, not to say lukewarm, version of Christian faith and spirituality. So perhaps we are in greater agreement on this than I actually know.

I don't think I have experienced people not trusting eremitical life once they understand it -- even just a little more than slightly. Mainly, I have felt that if they trust me they trust my vocation too, even when they are still seeking to understand it from the outside in. In other words, if the hermit is credible and genuine, then folks will tend to see the vocation in the same way. Usually what people push back against are the stereotypes that distort the vocation --- images of solitude that are pious versions of individualism and isolation and should be rejected, for instance, or indications of self-centeredness and selfishness that can be combated with a bit of personal attention to others and the needs of the community along with an emphasis on the centrality of love in such vocations. Most of the time, though, I think folks hold the idea of "hermit" at arm's length while thinking of me as a contemplative nun instead. That is the result of not understanding the vocation and not even knowing the questions to ask to begin to understand better. When I first began considering c 603 I was coming from a place that thought eremitical life had become obsolete. I had long begun to outgrow the old sense I had once had that contemplative life was a waste of skin (left over from my Protestant background I think but also buttressed by the importance of ministerial religious life). I suspect a lot of people still hold those views --- though they don't tend to express them to me. Again, my bottom-line experience is that if people trust me, they trust my vocation. 

I will add to this that since I have begun working with occasional candidates for Canon 603 Profession, those few people who know about this work do ask more questions about eremitical life itself (we don't discuss the candidates, of course, except sometimes re what region of the country or world they come from). That there is a worldwide interest in the vocation and that it is slowly growing in the Church under c 603, does interest folks and they don't feel like they are asking too-personal questions at the same time. The pandemic also increased overt interest in eremitism and people asked me more questions (when I was actually around). Questions regarding healthy solitude, managing time alone, increasing or developing new approaches to prayer, learning to journal, etc are the kinds of questions I would get, especially at the beginning of the pandemic and correlative lockdowns.

I think there is a slim chance that folks who feel some call to eremitical life will push back against it. I guess I really believe the more prevalent reasons have to do with concerns regarding stereotypes, counterfeits, selfishness, and maybe not having enough sense of the vocation to even begin asking questions about it. I tend to find myself that candidates (or would-be candidates) for eremitical profession fall into three main categories, 1) serious candidates or inquirers --- those with a mature spirituality and the wisdom of experience that has led them to the desert, 2) romantics with naive senses of what the vocation is and entails including those looking for a sinecure, and 3) "nutcases" or eccentrics -- in this latter category I would include all kinds of people from those with significant mental illness to those who simply (or not so simply) want to use the vocation as a stopgap way to get professed despite being aware they do not have such a vocation.

In your regard (because you are a serious candidate for life as a hermit, and because I am sure people around you recognize that) what you may be experiencing is the tension between what people think they know about eremitical life (stereotypes, nutcases), and their own care and concern for you and your call by God to abundant life. It is unfortunate that many believe eremitical life to be narrow and cramped, with no room for creativity or realization of selfhood. Nothing could be further from the truth. Since, as you also mentioned, you are reading Cornelius Wencel's book The Eremitic Life you know, or will soon see, how strongly Wencel stresses the immense creativity of eremitic life along with its relationality and call to full personhood. Because of stereotypes and a strong sense of the inherent relationality of human beings, hermits often seem, at least initially, like they have embraced an anachronistic and anti-human life that could never be fulfilling or theologically justified. As the hermit grows in her vocation, these senses change for those who know her. I would bet some pushback comes from this fear for you among those who really care about or love you. Just saying!

On Baseline Values: Fundamentals and Diversity in Eremitical Life

[[Dear Sister, you recently wrote, "What is absolutely critical is that in some way the hermit writing the Rule combines the requirements of Canon 603 with her own life story, not because she cannot let go of her life before the hermitage, but because in every way, the Rule she is proposing to live indicates the continuation and fulfillment of a long journey towards redemption by God's love. It spells out a coherent way of living out the victory of that redemption as it has unfolded to bring her here and still continues to unfold in this new commitment." I was struck by a couple of things. First, your vision of solitary eremitical life as a continuation of a redemptive journey that began long before one reached the hermitage (or the hermitage stage), and secondly, that your Rule could not be used by anyone else; you were not writing for a group. 

In approaching the canon in this way, I really like the flexibility and personal integrity this allows for, but I was wondering how great is the danger of hermits who really aren't living the silence of solitude at all? If your Rule looks very different than that of another hermit, then who judges what hermit life really looks like? What happens if one person discerns a call to limited ministry as you have, and another says no to that? Won't people be confused by this? It seems a particular problem if no one spells out the baseline values for silence, solitude, prayer, penance, etc., so who does that? I don't mean hermits need to meet the kinds of rigorist qualities some have written about in the last several years --- you know, absolute silence, total hiddenness, and all of that -- but what does it mean to live a life of the silence of solitude (and the other elements of C 603) no matter who you are? Do you see what I mean? I also have some questions on time frames, temporary vs perpetual professions, and things like that, but I'll hold those for now. . .]]

Thanks for writing again. Your questions are very well-taken and I appreciate them. I will need to come back to parts of these in further posts. With Canon 603, as I have noted many times, we find a uniquely written canon that combines elements that are non-negotiable (that is, they must be defining terms of the hermit's life or s/he is not a Canon 603 hermit) and great flexibility, because these elements or terms are less legal terms with entirely fixed meanings, than they are gates or doorways to Mystery, specifically, the Mystery of Love-in-Communion. In other words, Canon 603 itself represents a vision of eremitic life that allows for room to grow, explore, make mistakes, make corrections, discern, submit to ongoing formation, consult, and so forth. The terms identified as non-negotiable are themselves mysteries more than terms with single, limited or common meanings --- especially when these meanings are set from the outside by those who know nothing of the life. Yes, there are foundational, "beginning," or common senses to these terms, and these foundational senses set a high bar for the hermit, but what is also true is that once one has truly entered the world of eremitism, once solitude has opened herself to the hermit and the hermit has accepted the invitation, these beginning senses open to even greater richness marked by paradox and surprise.  

One of the surprises is that each foundational term must be defined in terms of relationality (including that between oneself and 1) one's true or deep self, 2) one's God, 3) others, and 4) the whole of creation). Each term describes a living reality, dynamic in the way it opens us to it and itself to us. I have always loved Star Trek's various series and the opening of each series refers to the last frontier, identifying this with space, outer space. But hermits know the truth is different than this. The last frontier is inner space and from there, the inner life of God (him)self. What Canon 603 spells out, it seems to me, are the basic requirements for a person to make such a journey as a hermit: stricter separation from the world, assiduous prayer and penance, the silence of solitude, commitment to the evangelical counsels, an approved Rule of Life, lived in a desert context with supervision! (One piece of this single picture which will witness to all of the other elements is the hermit's stability and perseverance in cell -- more about this later). 

Remembering the importance of relationality, especially as one begins the inward journey in earnest and is tempted to mistake isolation for solitude or individualism for individuality; we need to stress that the reason one makes the journey is for the salvation of others. Alternately stated, the hermit makes the journey she makes in the way she does so that God might truly be the God he wishes to be, God-With-Us, (not simply God-With-her). Because the hermit's journey, that is, the way she uniquely poses the question of existence with her own life involves a particular desert quality, the way God is Emmanuel will correspond and be revealed in her life in a different way than occurs in the life of a ministerial religious, for instance. This difference must be evident. And yet, this life is lived for the sake of God and God's entire creation; relationality stands at the center of the hermit's life just as it does for any Christian.

As you well note, all of this requires certain baseline values for the terms of the canon. There must be external silence and physical solitude and there must be "enough" of these in the right configurations to provide a context for and support such an incredible inner journey. At this level of these terms, there must be silence and solitude sufficient to define the hermit's world in visible or identifiable ways and allow other elements to do the same, but which, at the same time, are not confused with the end or purpose of the life itself. Silence and solitude need not be absolute, for the measure of the hermit is not the degree of external silence or (physical) solitude she embraces, important as these are, but the journey they help facilitate into (and of) her deep self and the very Life of God. The same is true of the other elements; they must be sufficiently definitive of the life the hermit is living to allow for the specific journey the hermit is proposing to make with her life. At the same time, these defining elements are not to be absolutized but rather are meant to serve the goal of allowing God to be God-With-Us and Us to be completed in God for the sake of others. 

You asked if the diversity of vocations will be confusing to folks. I think that is doubtful so long as the dioceses who have hermits show real care in their discernment and each vocation shows clear signs of being defined by the constitutive elements of the canon. (No more professing "hermits" who live contemplative lives on the weekends alone while working highly social jobs during the week, or those for whom the term "hermit" is merely a metaphor describing personal eccentricity and a failure to "fit in"!!) Perhaps more importantly, I don't believe folks will be confused so long as the vocations they are exposed to are healthy, vital vocations centered in Christ and clear embodiments of Canon 603. I don't think any hermit I know believes they live eremitical life the only way it can be lived. There has always been diversity in such vocations. We each recognize that while we must and do live the defining elements of the vocation as faithfully and paradigmatically as God calls us to do, variations in the appearance of the vocation are possible depending upon how God works in a particular life. 

So who decides about all of this? The hermit does this with the assistance of her delegate and spiritual director. The bishop and diocesan staff who help discern such vocations also discern whether the vocation in front of them rises to the level of an ecclesial eremitical vocation or not --- is this person really living a life defined by the silence of solitude, assiduous prayer and penance, stricter separation from the world, and so forth and are they called to live this in the name of the Church? What needs to be strengthened if this is so, for instance? In what ways does the person still need to grow into the vocation in order to make an initial or even a definitive profession and what will assist in that? How have things changed for this hermit in the past several years in her continuing faithful response to God's eremitical call? Finally, if the diocese is being assisted by a mentor who is already c 603, then s/he will be helping in this same discernment. 

After perpetual profession the hermit is assisted by her delegate, spiritual director, bishop (this will be true less frequently in most cases), and others with the expertise needed. She will speak with other hermits, and of course, first, last, and in between, she will pray regarding the way she perceives God calling her. Folks will need to be able to trust that there is a framework in place for all of this precisely because she is living an ecclesial vocation; if there are concerns, these will need to be brought to the hermit and (usually through her) to those involved in assisting her to live her vocation with integrity. Sometimes clearing up such concerns is merely a matter of educating folks about what a hermit is and what eremitical life looks like apart from entrenched stereotypes and imposed rigidities by those truly unfamiliar with the life. And sometimes, the diocese itself will learn from such conversations and find ways to take more care in their discernment of such important vocations! Hopefully, however, the hermit's place in the faith community will be strengthened and she will be supported to grow in her vocation as she, in the silence of solitude, witnesses to the sufficiency of God alone to complete us as human beings!!

I hope this is helpful! Definitely get back to me with your questions on time frames, etc.

A Look at the Coronation of King Charles III: Hiddenness at the Service of Mystery

Sorry to have been out of touch for a week or so. I came down with something last weekend, spiked a high temp (103.1+), and just have been returning to normal. No worries, everything seems to be resolving even if it is slowly so, and my temp is back to normal or nearly so. (I have now tested for COVID and the results were negative. YAY!! Will repeat the test tonight to verify the results.)

One of the things I did recently (before the temp spiked!) that was more than a bit out of the ordinary was to watch the coronation of King Charles III. I had seen the coronation of  Queen Elizabeth II when I was just shy of 4 yo and it was a memorable occasion viewed on a small black and white TV. It may even have contributed to my response to Catholic liturgy when I was in my teens. In any case, I knew I wanted to watch this coronation even though it meant losing most of a night's sleep to do so. I am not sorry I did. And, while it was all beautifully done and moving (the 3&1/2-year-old still inside me seemed gobsmacked at the COLOR and the horses!!!), one moment especially stood out, not only because it differed from the coronation of Charle's Mother, or because the symbolism was incredibly well-done, but because it was the holiest moment of the coronation per se. 

In 1953 when it came time for Queen Elizabeth II to be anointed, a large gold canopy was moved over her and people stood looking away from her. TV cameras were somehow blocked from any real view of what was happening and I remember trying to see under the canopy and being puzzled by it all. The Queen had been divested of all of her regal finery and was wearing a (relatively) simple white dress. But then came this great canopy and the commentators were talking (more softly I seemed to remember) about something I could neither see nor understand. What I did register somewhere deep within myself was the gravity of the moment, especially as steps were taken to shield the queen, and what was happening to her, from view --- even in the midst of a great throng of interested and supportive people.

Move forward 70 years. Charles III is similarly stripped down to his pants and a simple white shirt. The royal finery is folded and carried away for the moment. Members of the household guard carry in three large decorated screens, the poles which will hold them in place, and assemble them around the King with an opening toward the high altar. There is no canopy, but the King is hidden even more entirely than his Mother had been. As a really nice touch, the household guards face away from the screens except for those holding the poles in place. All have their eyes averted, looking down at the ground. In the midst of this huge cathedral, innumerable digital cameras, people hungry to see every last detail, thousands of guests, and millions of onlookers via media, the Royal family and the Church of England have managed to say clearly, [[Here at the heart of our monarchy is something hidden and inviolable, something incontestably intimate and sacred, something dynamic, living, that --- through the mediation of the church --- occurs between God and the monarch him or herself.]]

It was striking to me that the most profound and profoundly mysterious moment of the coronation was marked by hiddenness. At this moment when the King was anointed, it was hiddenness that was the most powerfully articulate expression of and witness to Mystery. In a ritual enveloped by layers and layers of pomp and color, history and tradition, ritual and symbolism, here was a moment in which an individual temporarily enclosed and shielded from the eyes of others, went into the hiddenness of his own heart and, despite the presence of priests, soldiers, family, and the nations of the world, was alone with his God, seeking and consenting to allow God to do what only God could do, namely, to consecrate him for service to God, his Church, and his people. All of the pomp and pageantry paled for me in comparison to Charles in his simple pants and plain white shirt assenting to being enclosed in the hiddenness of this sacred-making moment. That was underscored for me when I learned that Charles had asked for greater hiddenness than the canopy had allowed his Mother and others in the past.

There are numerous reasons for embracing some degree of hiddenness. They can be good or bad, desirable or undesirable, worthy or unworthy of us. Hermits choose a life of relative hiddenness which serves in significant ways as a witness to Mystery at the heart of life. They choose, not hiddenness as an end in itself, but Mystery and participation in Mystery. They choose hiddenness indirectly because, as was true for Charles III, this is a privileged context for meeting the living God and letting ourselves be vulnerable to him. Today, I am particularly grateful to have seen this value chosen and celebrated by Charles III for the sake of an encounter with the living God. Charles put hiddenness at the service of a moment of ineffable intimacy with Mystery which pomp and ceremony needed to be made to serve. It was liturgy very well done!

A Contemplative Moment: Sometimes

Sometimes

by David Whyte

Sometimes

if you move carefully

through the forest

breathing

like the ones

in the old stories

who could cross

a shimmering bed of dry leaves

without a sound,

you come

to a place

where the only task

is to trouble you

with tiny

but frightening requests

conceived out of nowhere

but in this place

beginning to lead everywhere.

Requests to stop what

you are doing right now,

and

to stop what you

are becoming

while you do it,

questions

that can make

or unmake

a life,

questions

that have patiently

waited for you,

questions

that have no right

to go away.

~David Whyte from Everything is Waiting for You

Walking Zeroes? On Developing Theologies and Some Thoughts about Humility

A couple of things this last week caused me to think of the way my own theology has evolved over the decades. When I was an undergraduate doing Theology, my major professor had a couple of us do presentations on various topics fairly regularly. Sometimes Toni and I teamed up, and sometimes we opposed one another debate style. (Dear God, though often a great joy, was that ever painful sometimes!!) 

Toni was really creative and she loved using props! Once, after I had given my side of the presentation in the previous session, she came to class ready to begin her side of the argument. She had a huge copy of Denzinger's with her (this reference book lists all the heretical positions the church has ever pronounced on) and began by referring to my position. She opened the Denzinger's, pointed to the page, and, looking at the class, read, [[If anyone should say (my position on Universal salvation) ANATHEMA SIT (or, let [her] be anathema)!!]] Then she snapped the book closed with finality and, looking at me with satisfaction, sat down as if the debate was finished. Professor Dwyer roared with laughter (briefly!), Toni was really pleased with herself (much less briefly), and I was pretty ticked off!! (Have I said how much I loved Toni? We were best friends!!) Anyway, today, I believe even more strongly in, and would argue even more coherently, what is called apokatastasis ton panton --- the redemption of everything, or "universal salvation".

On another day we were presenting something together on the Theology of the Cross (perhaps Paul's theology seen from a Protestant (Lutheran?) perspective). In any case, we wanted to make the point that of ourselves we are nothing at all, while with God (or even from God's perspective), we are of (almost) infinite significance! As I got to the climax of my section, namely, "Without God, we are nothing at all!", Toni unexpectedly whipped out a child's pull toy and set it on the desk in front of us as the class looked on. It was an oversized "O" from the alphabet and it had little moveable feet with a weighted cord attached to the front of the "O". When the weight was dropped over the edge of the desk, the "O" walked the length of it in front of me. Toni explained, "We thought bringing a "walking ZERO" would make the point more memorable!" (She may have said something about ME being a walking ZERO without God, but I honestly can't remember that now -- I did say how much I loved her, right? -- Nevertheless, the point was made and the class "got it"!) On that day John Dwyer also laughed, Toni was pleased with herself, and I too thought the prop and the presentation as a whole were great.

The point we were trying to "walk home" is a really important one. It is central to understanding ourselves and the love of God. Namely, without God, without the grace of God, without the powerful presence of God that summons us into existence and dwells within us, we can be thought of as nothing, and in some ways, it is appropriate to say with Catherine of Sienna that God is ALL and we are nothing. But in other ways, this is simply not true and does a disservice to both God and ourselves. At some points, this truth will not only be unpalatable but pastorally harmful. In particular, it is not a theological truth (nor an anthropological one) we can use to bash folks over the head with because of their supposed "pride". It is one we must use extremely carefully, with appropriate nuance and sensitivity so that folks we say this to truly hear the love, freedom, and promise also embodied in this sentence!!

After all, God never says we are nothing. Jesus never says we are nothing. Instead, they proclaim the delight they take in each of us; they affirm how good God sees us to be and, how incredibly and unconditionally loved we are. And they remind us that we are incomplete without God, less than authentically human without him, incapable of loving as we are called to love without the Love-in-Act that dwells in, summons, and empowers us to love in the same way. When Jesus speaks of being able to do nothing but what he has seen the Father do, when he speaks of the unity between himself and his Abba when he affirms that knowing him means knowing God and seeing him means seeing God, Jesus is proclaiming the very nature of authentic humanity; more, he is indicating that like himself, we are truly human only when we live with and from/of God.

Yes, humility is a very good thing. We all need to be humble and perhaps sometimes it is good to call others to remember who they really are. It is important to recall, however, that humility has to do with being truly grounded --- grounded in the truth of who we really are and, as it said in today's Gospel from John, where we are truly from. To say that we are nothing without God can quickly devolve into an untruth, namely that we are nothing at all!! But that affirmation lacks humility!! It is inadequately grounded in the truth of how God values, loves, and sustains us at every second and how God breathes HIS life and promise into us in the same way. It is untrue to who God creates us as and calls us to become ever more fully. So, are we all "walking zeroes"? Perhaps, without God, we would have to say this. But -- and here is the critical piece of the truth we can never forget -- who among us is really ever (objectively) without God? Who among us is not loved and held as precious, a (potential) daughter or son of God at every moment? Who among us is not called and made in some way to be, at least potentially, a light to the world? 

What do I say about that prop that served an undergraduate presentation in theology so well? It was a good prop for a theological lecture, and in some limited ways, it expressed a profound theological and anthropological truth when used narrowly and carefully, but more generally? No. Humility, a loving truthfulness about who we really are in light of God's love, says something else that focuses on the way God forms, sustains, sees, and delights in us. It has its center in who God creates us to be and the potential we embody. None of us are EVER walking zeroes. Even in our worst failures, we remain God's precious creation. Saying that is not prideful, it is pastoral; it nurtures and empowers abundant life and an authentic humanity that is decidedly not some kind of nothing but the very image and temple of God!! 

Writing a Rule: Vision Before Legislation (part II)

 [[Hi Sister, you said recently that a Rule is about a vision of eremitical life before it is about legislation. I wondered if you could say more about this. I think it is easy in some ways to make a Rule a long or complicated to-do list but how does one make it into a vision one lives for the rest of one's life?]]

Thanks for this question, in the last years I have worked or am working with people approaching admission to profession according to C 603. In each case, I said I hoped the Rule they are or were writing would truly become an embodiment of the way God has been working in their lives and speaks to them in this canon. After all, the Canon describes a way of life where God is central, where everything is focused on letting God be God, and particularly, focused on letting God be God-With-Us in the silence of solitude through assiduous prayer and penance, etc. 

As I have written before, the Rule should reflect not only the letter (the literal terms) of the Canon but the singular lived experience that stands at the heart of the life it governs. This experience of letting God be God is the essence of what it means to be created, called to be, and made truly human as imago Christi. The solitary hermit in the consecrated state perceives and commits to the truth that this best occurs for her according to the terms and conditions that define her vocation canonically and without the community context that requires Rules (or Constitutions) to be shaped more generically.

I think this means that the solitary hermit's Rule should also reflect what it means for this particular person to have such a vocation and be called by God to be created and shaped by, as well as to be one who witnesses to and even mediates God's love in the really unique way her/his vocation makes possible and necessary. Such a person's Rule should convey something of what it means for them to be called by God not only to be a hermit, but to be a solitary canonical hermit whose commitments are made and whose life is lived, for God's own sake and for the sake of the salvation of others as well. Because this is not a Rule guiding and inspiring a community but an individual, because the charism of the vocation is discerned as part of a singular dialogue between Canonical requirements and the signal graces God has gifted this hermit with during her life, I am convinced the personal dimension of one's own story cannot and must not be omitted from the Rule of a C 603 hermit. To do this, to omit this personal dimension, is to turn the Rule into what I referred to in an earlier post as "an out-sized to-do list" that speaks to no one, perhaps not even the one who wrote it.

So what does this mean concretely? I think first of all it means constructing a Rule which tells (both you and others) not only what you will live but why you will and in fact, do commit to living this. For instance, besides an introductory section that summarizes some of my own story very generally, I will write about the specific elements of the canon and how I understand them. When I write about an element of the Canon like the silence of solitude, I do it from the perspective of someone who has experienced isolation and knows that the redemption of isolation is found in solitude. In fact, it is recognized as solitude. The achievement of God's redemption of isolation occurs for the hermit when she comes to genuine solitude. The details of one's experience of isolation is unlikely to be directly pertinent to one's Rule itself, but the sense of what isolation causes in us, how it affects our relationship with God, our faith, etc., could be helpful in spelling out the nature of the redemption achieved in solitude. This, in turn, will affect the way we think, pray, and write about solitude (and other elements as well!), how we protect and live these out, what conflicts with it (or them), impacts it, yearns for it, transforms it from curse to blessing, and so forth. 

Likewise, the way we see and write about "the silence of solitude" will be affected by all of this. In this term are we speaking merely about the absence of sound (like that which comes from turning off -- or throwing out -- the TV, etc), or are we speaking about something deeper as well --- the absence of woundedness and the resulting varied "cries" for comfort or attention that lead people in all kinds of unworthy or obnoxious directions, the effects of forgiveness and healing, the cessation of tendencies toward self-assertion, the quieting of fear and insecurities of all kinds --- that come when we stand strong as ourselves in the power of God's love? By extension then, are we also talking about the kind of silence that allows the deepest cries and yearnings of our heart to sound out clearly, to be heard and attended to? Yes, of course, the silence of solitude means first of all a physical silence and solitude associated with being alone (with God). That corresponds to my understanding of the silence of solitude as the context for eremitical life. But because of the life experience I bring to the hermitage and this context, that is only the beginning of the way I understand this central element in the Canon governing my life. Thus, besides treating the silence of solitude as context for eremitical life in my Rule, I also include "the silence of solitude" as goal (telos), and then as the charism of my eremitism and life. 

When I write (indirectly) about these personal things in my Rule, it is because I have a vision of the solitary life that appreciates both the silence of solitude and eremitical life together as a gift of God for myself, and for far more than myself! In a world fraught with isolation, woundedness and trauma, division, and noise on every level and of every possible type, a hermit living and exploring "the silence of solitude" as part of what it means to be truly or authentically human becomes a gift to that same world. More immediately, the hermit's Rule becomes the story of God working in her life and provides the outline of a vision of how to continue participating in that story! It is a vision she commits to grow into with God wherever this takes her. 

Canon 603 has a number of other requirements and each of them needs to be addressed in a similar way. These need to 1) imply one's own story with God, and 2) provide a vision of the life that may serve others who are searching and waiting to hear the Gospel as the answer to their own journeys --- even if they never step anywhere near a hermitage. What is absolutely critical is that in some way the hermit writing the Rule combines the requirements (central elements) of Canon 603 with her own life story, not because she cannot let go of her life before the hermitage, but because in every way, the Rule she is proposing to live indicates the continuation and fulfillment of a long journey towards redemption by God's love. It spells out a coherent way of living out the victory of that redemption as it has unfolded to bring her here and still continues to unfold in this new context and commitment. This is what it means to have a vocation; this is the vision she must hold onto when living that vocation becomes especially difficult or demanding. It is who she needs to be as she determines what she will also do to witness and continue responding to that Divine call.

As something of an aside, when I submitted my first Rule to my diocese back in @1984, it was sent off to a canonist to read and approve. She had a couple of comments regarding theology and then an observation about the nature of the document as a whole. She noted that it had a rather personal feel to it "but that in Rules of this sort" that was perfectly acceptable. Still, I remember feeling like her approval on this point was not unalloyed.  When I look back at that Rule today, I find it kind of laughable; it was certainly inadequate. The irony is that that personal tone and nature, something that was pretty new at that time (since such documents and the Canon that called for them were pretty new at this time) later was perceived as a key to discerning such vocations and providing a way of working out the formation of c 603 hermits.

Canon 603: A Complete Departure from "Traditional Eremitical Life"?

Unity is NOT uniformity!!
Celebrate Canon 603!

[[Dear Sister, I was looking for a post where you wrote about canon 603 as not being a complete departure from the tradition of eremitical life through the ages but couldn't find it. Do you have the link? At the same time, I wondered if you could recommend some books that show hermits were often committed to eremitical life in the hands of their bishops or something similar. (I know it isn't exactly "in the hands of" like canon 603 or religious profession but I am not sure what to call it.) Was it typical throughout the centuries for hermits to be given permission by the church to live as a hermit? What about wearing habits, writing Rules, being "vetted" by others, and things like that? Also, if there was oversight over hermits, what makes canon 603 different as you claim it is?]]

Thanks for your questions. Yes, I will find the link to the post you asked about. I can't recall the title right off hand, but I should be able to find it. I can recommend several books that speak of hermits and anchorites and their relation with their church and bishop. What is clear from these is that even though C. 603 is new in the sense of it being a part of universal law, it continues a trend that existed well into the Middle Ages and after as well, namely, that of having hermits be licensed to present themselves as hermit, to wear an eremitical habit, to beg for alms, and even to preach. 

Two books I would recommend are, Hermits and Anchorites in England 1200-1550  trans. by E.A. Jones. This book is an anthology of many records of things like Rules, rites of enclosure used, characteristics of the life, failures, visions, sleeping and dreaming, clothing, daily routine, preparation and discernment of vocations, licensing by bishops, certificates of profession, renegades and charlatans, letters of protection and safe passage, etc, etc, right on up to dissolution under Henry VIII et al. It gives good anecdotal evidence for the institutional involvement with anchorites and hermits in England during these 350 years. The second is The Call of the Desert by Peter F Anson, a good overview of eremitical life to the early 20th C. There are several other on anchoritic life by Liz McAvoy and one by Anneke Mulder-Bakker Lives of the Anchoresses, The Rise of the Urban Recluse in Medieval Europe, that I would also recommend depending on your specific interests, but these latter tend to be pricey

One observation in Jones' book is helpful in debunking the notion that c 603 is some sort of betrayal of past eremitical practice, and in responding, at least as a beginning, to your questions:

[[The outline and character of the anchoritic life were more or less established by the point at which this book begins (1200 CE). Enclosure was now expected to be strict and irrevocable. The role of the bishop in approving and supervising the vocation had been asserted and passed into usual practice, and was underlined by the prominent part he took in the process of enclosure (Chapters 2-6). . .[and later, when dealing with the eremitical vocation per se, the author writes,] This is the context for a suite of measures that seemed to have been designed to put the hermit vocation on a secure canonical foundation to match that already in place for anchorites, The examination of candidates and testing of their vocation, profession ceremonies, and rules or guides for living --- all of which already existed for anchorites in 1215 -- started to be provided [for hermits] around the beginnings of the fifteenth century. (For more on this, see Chapter VI.)]]

So in England, anchorites and anchoresses in the Catholic church participated in mutual discernment processes and were supervised by bishops by around 1200 CE. Hermits (always male and more itinerant than anchorites)  participated in similar processes by the 1400s. This was true of the granting and wearing of habits, rules, nature of the cell or hermitage, upkeep, health, etc. For instance, in other situations (other countries, or times) with regard to the habit, a mentor granted the habit when s/he thought the candidate was ready to take on the responsibilities of what was a public vocation (I say public here not only because it was not a merely private decision, but because it witnessed to certain values and did so under supervision). If the candidate failed to live eremitical life well, the permission to wear the habit was removed.  (This was true of the Desert fathers and Mothers in the 300s-500s as well and others have noted similar practices through the centuries.) And note well that this book references merely one small period of time in the history of the Church's varying attempts to adequately come to terms with this often-problematical but clear gift of the Holy Spirit! Given the varied presentations of and motivations for eremitical life (or those for claiming one was a hermit) there was no single attempt at dealing with eremitical vocation, but many over the course of the centuries). It is important to understand this when trying to gauge whether canon 603 is a betrayal of solitary eremitical life as "traditionally lived".  

There were good reasons for all of these steps taken by the church. Usually, bishops licensed hermits and in this way sometimes gave them the right to beg or to be seen as appropriate recipients of benefactors' assistance and charity. Sometimes they licensed them to preach. The wearing of the habit (which only modified contemporary dress some, remember, or added this or that symbolic piece of clothes or accouterment --- like a pilgrim's badge, etc.) facilitated access to others and a sense that the person could be trusted over the more ordinary beggar, and so forth. Professions, it seems, were carefully undertaken and recorded, especially in certain settings; this was a matter of safety for all concerned as was the discernment or "vetting" process during this time. Each diocese and/or bishop adopted steps that protected the anchorites or hermits (not to mention the dioceses, bishops, and parish churches to which such persons were attached), and which also allowed the vocation itself to be and be seen as credible, and dealt with changing situations and conditions on the ground. 

As I have written before, the difference between Canon 603 and the various canons, statutes, and diocesan guidelines is that Canon 603 is universal in nature. It is meant for the whole Church and is binding on every diocese, every bishop, and every canonical solitary hermit. This means the learning curve regarding this vocation is broad and can be approached in a more systematic way as dioceses contribute their (new) knowledge and experience to assist others without such. One of the things c 603 signifies is a central ecclesial vision of eremitical life that, within certain limits, is also incredibly flexible and can be individualized according to the conditions and needs of the diocese and the hermit in question. At the same time, individualization remains subsumed under the broad,  central, and accepted vision of a solitary eremitical life so that individuality is also constrained and invited to transcendence in light of something larger than itself.

Please note, I can't locate the post you asked about so it may have been shifted to draft mode somehow. I also lost a couple of posts accidentally last week and don't know how that happened --- they are gone forever though, and one still needs to be re-written out of whole cloth (I need to recover the questions first). Let's hope that is not true for this post! I will keep looking and if I find it I'll add the link at the top of this article. Please check back occasionally, won't you?