After the End

One of the most touching stories belonging to the Easter appearances is that of Peter's "rehabilitation" and recommissioning by Jesus. It is a continuation of the story begun yesterday as Jesus meets Peter and the other disciples while they are fishing but catching nothing without him. Peter, as impulsive as ever jumps into the sea to come to Jesus whom he recognizes as "the Lord".  How familiar to each of us is the regret and shame captured in the line, "In Peter's dreams, the cock still crowed"! I love the title of the following poem because on Good Friday it really was the end for any disciple of Jesus. Only on Easter Sunday is there forgiveness and a solution to both guilt and shame. Only on Easter Sunday is there a new beginning, a new creation, a new world with a new Lord. Only on Easter are the disciples given new and abundant lives and missions in the power and Name of the Risen Christ. John Shea does such a wonderful job of conveying this, not only with Peter, but with the disciples on the road to Emmaus and Mary of Magdala as well.

Like her friend
she would curse the barren tree
and glory in the lilies of the field.
She lived in noons and midnights
in those mounting moments
of high dance
when blood is wisdom and flesh love.
But now, before the violated cave
on the third day of her tears
she is a black pool of grief
spent upon the earth.
They have taken her dead Jesus,
unoiled and unkissed
to where desert flies and worms
more quickly work.
She suffers wounds that will not heal
and enters into the pain of God
where lives the gardener
who once exalted in her perfume
knew the extravagance of her hair
and now asks whom she seeks.

In Peter's dreams, the cock still crowed.
He returned to Galilee to throw nets into
the sea and watch them sink
like memories into darkness.

He did not curse the sun

that rolled down his back

or the wind that drove the fish

beyond his nets.

He only waited for the morning 

when the shore mist would lift

and from his boat he would see him.

Then after naked and impetuous swim

with the sea running from his eyes,

he would find a cook with holes in his hands

and stooped over dawn coals

who would offer him the Kingdom of God

for breakfast.

On the road that escapes Jerusalem
and winds along the ridge to Emmaus
two disillusioned youths
dragged home their crucified dream.
They had smelled "messiah" in the air
and rose to that scarred and ancient hope
only to mourn what might have been.
And now a sudden stranger
falls upon their loss
with excited words about mustard seeds
and surprises hidden at the heart of death
and that evil must be kissed upon the lips
and that every scream is redeemed for
it echoes in the ear of God,
and do you not understand:
what died upon the cross was fear.
They protested their right to despair,
but he said, "My Father's laughter fills
the silence of the tomb."
Because they did not understand,
they offered him food,
and in the breaking of the bread
they knew the imposter for who he was:
the arsonist of the heart.

After the end comes the conspiracy
of gardeners, cooks and strangers.

by John Shea, STD

On Full-time Work and Terminology for Hermits

Dear Sister, I have included two quotes from Therese Iver's article on full time work for hermits in Full time Work for Hermits? In the first one I wondered if she means vows become invalid if a person starts working full time in case of need or if this only applies if the person is working full time when professed? Have there ever been cases where such vows were considered invalid? [[It is actually an abuse of the canon to profess individuals with employment outside the hermitage that isn’t done in solitude.   Further, because the canon must be followed in its entirety for a person to be a canonical hermit, either the vows are invalid in the case of a full-time worker in a normal job that isn’t done in strict solitude or the vow of obedience is being violated.]]

I have not spoken to Therese in regard to the article you cited but it seems clear she means that vows would be invalid if made while a person was working full time outside the hermitage and doing so in a non-solitary job. Validity is a matter of the patency of vows when made. Otherwise, as Therese says, the vows would be valid but, should circumstances change and the person begin working full time in a highly social job, she would then be violating her Rule (assuming it is adequately detailed in this regard) and her vow of obedience. I don't know if there have been cases where vows were determined to be invalid but there have definitely been cases where individuals working full time in highly social jobs at the time of  their profession were still professed under canon 603.

Those vows, I sincerely believe, should have been determined to be invalid. (I say that because it seems obvious to me that they should never have been allowed to have been made in the first place given the work situations and the lack of true eremitical experience that existed. Dioceses do not generally allow persons to make invalid vows, (or eremitical vows in these circumstances) nor should they.) Exceptions have occurred and they have raised serious questions among dioceses, diocesan hermits, and those who are interested in canon 603 vocations. Two of these are from the Archdiocese of Boston; another involves a hermit working full time as a social worker while a fourth involves a hermit canonist working for her diocese. The usual question is "How can one live an eremitical life and also work fulltime outside the hermitage?" Corollaries include, "How well-conceived is canon 603?" "Isn't it merely created for stopgap or fall back vocations to religious life?" and "What kinds of formation are required when a person can work full time and treat a contemplative prayer life in the silence of solitude as secondary?"

Since I believe c 603 is well-conceived --- though demanding in what it expects of candidates' and chanceries' knowledge of desert spirituality --- and since I believe there are real eremitical vocations out there, I also believe it is critical that dioceses do not "settle" in professing those who treat eremitical life as a "metaphor" or as analogous to the Anglican canon 14.3 on "solitary religious" and treat hermits as though they are individuals who simply live alone and take a desert day once a week or so! In one of the cases noted it is unclear whether the person's vows were ever declared invalid but both she and her Archdiocese still refer to her eremitical profession (referred to by date) as the basis for her communal life (she has begun a new community) while dropping any mention of canon 603. In any case, significant questions regarding this apparent bit of legal or linguistic sleight of hand are thus also cropping up amongst hermits and canonists. Since this person no longer lives an eremitical life under the Rule she submitted for perpetual profession, it seems her vows have ceased to be valid or binding on the basis of a significant material change in the circumstances involved.

Appropriate Accommodations for Emergency Circumstances?

What does sometimes happen is that a hermit will need to work temporarily while waiting for some kind of assistance to be settled on (like SSI  or disability for instance). This will usually be part-time work at best because the hermit cannot do more than this (after all, a life of assiduous prayer and penance and the silence of solitude is a full time work in and of itself; add to this the fact of disability and one ordinarily is simply unable to work full time). In cases, however, where the hermit works outside the hermitage full time this must truly be an entirely temporary situation  and she must be working with her superiors to be sure she maintains her Rule as best she can. This is still embraced in profession as the defining and governing document of her life; it expresses the shape of her commitment to canon 603 in particular. I would argue there are better ways to deal with such a situation and that, at the very least, a diocese should set a time limit on the period involved. If, in the case of a hermit waiting for SSI or something similar, the assistance is truly expected to come eventually, then perhaps the diocese DOES need to consider helping the hermit out financially until this occurs. Whether the hermit pays the diocese back or not once the award is granted is a separate question. In any case, a time limit would be important in signaling that this situation is contrary to the life of canon 603 and neither can nor will be allowed to continue indefinitely.

If a hermit needs to change from working within the hermitage (as noted above, this cannot be full time work since the life itself would not allow it) to working full time outside it (especially in a highly social job) on something other than a clearly temporary basis, then the diocese should seriously consider whether it needs to dispense this hermit's vows or grant a decree of exclaustration or something similar for a period of time. After all, such a hermit would no longer be living the terms of the canon or her own Rule; she would be violating her profession commitment if not the vows themselves (remember profession is the commitment of the whole person within a state of life; vows are the ordinary way this is expressed). In such a situation something like exclaustration (a good temporary solution I think) or dispensation might well be the only prudent and honest solution open to the diocese.

Again, this is a difficult situation because customarily dioceses do not support hermits in any material way while the canon obliges to religious poverty; even so they have every right to expect a hermit to be living the terms of the Canon and to be doing so in ways which are clear to others looking on. One thing Therese Ivers suggests is that the ability to support oneself is a kind of acid test today for the presence of a c 603 vocation. Personally I would not go quite that far because I think in the later years of a hermit's life dioceses may need to consider assisting them in material ways simply so they can remain in situations of some clear solitude. Still, for admission to perpetual profession and for the foreseeable future of a hermit's life, I think the capacity to support oneself in some way is an absolute requirement of canon 603 vocations.

On the Terminology Semi-Eremitical:

[[My second question has to do with Carthusians as semi-hermits. Ms Ivers writes:  [[What can we learn about the “silence of solitude” when analyzing the lives of the Carthusians?  That if they consider themselves semi-hermits because they get together daily once or twice for prayer/Mass and have recreation together once a week, how does a person with a full time job as a parish finance manager or a social worker fit the description of living as a hermit?]] I have never heard them referred to in this way. Are they really only "semi-hermits"? Does the Church use the language of "full hermits" and "half hermits"?]]

Personally, though I completely agree with Therese's point about the importance of "the silence of solitude" in c 603 life and understand why she underscored it in this way, I think this "semi-hermit" usage is an overstatement and possibly a too-literal misrepresentation of the real meaning of the term semi-eremitical. Carthusian monks are hermits in the fullest sense of the word. They are not monks who also highly value solitude, but hermits who also value and need community because of their commitment to eremitical solitude. As I understand it, the term semi-eremite refers more to the context in which a hermit lives his or her solitary life, that is, within a community than it does to the hermit him/herself.

The communal context protects the hermit's solitude, provides for the hermit's sustenance, clothing, medical care, etc,  allows for communal liturgy which also protects the hermits' stricter separation and silence of solitude, and ensures his clear ecclesial identity and sensibilities. Thus the context is semi-eremitical but the life is fully eremitical. Canon 603 hermits, on the other hand, are solitary hermits. Both terms are important; neither is redundant. Canon 603 hermits too are fully hermits but the context for their lives is solitary. They do not belong to an institute of consecrated life, they are self-supporting and must shop for themselves, maintain their own physical solitude in all the ways that is required, and do so without the support of "lay" sisters or "conversae" as the Carthusians have. They live out their ecclesial commitment within the context of a diocese and parish but despite the stability this provides (and I am not speaking here of monastic stability per se) it does not rise to the level of stability provided in a religious community or monastery.

While it is true that Carthusian hermits attend Office and Mass together daily and c 603 hermits attend Mass perhaps once a day in their parish and generally pray Office alone, it would be a mistake. I think, to refer c 603 hermits as (full) "hermits" and Carthusians as semi or "half-hermits". Similarly it would be a mistake to think of solitary hermits under c 603 as "semi-hermits" because they attend parish liturgies while reserving the term hermit or "full-hermit" for those who, for instance, live more isolated lives --- sometimes as self-dedicated but living without real ecclesial identity or involvement. Therese Ivers was rightly underscoring the importance of the silence of solitude for canon 603 hermits. The term "the silence of solitude" is a Carthusian term so the connection to this tradition for c 603 hermits is a significant one. Even so, semi-eremite generally refers to a hermit who depends on professed membership in a community to protect his/her solitude and allow for a truly contemplative life while solitary hermit generally refers to a hermit who is entirely self-supporting and lives a desert existence alone.

Eremitical life occurs along a spectrum of involvement in ecclesial life. Generally today there are three main points along this continuum: solitary eremitical life, semi-eremitical life or eremitical life lived within a community context, and reclusion (which always requires communal support of some sort but is bereft of direct social or communal involvement). What differs in each of these is the degree of separation from others, the degree of physical solitude involved. Still,  all of these folks are hermits in the fullest sense of the word. The Church does not use terms like full-hermits or half-hermits. One is a hermit or one is not. There are no part time hermits, no married hermits, and no dilettantes. How one negotiates the necessary and intrinsic ecclesial dimension of the vocation and protects one's call to prayer in solitude may differ one from another but all of these vocations are eremitical in the fullest sense of the term so long as they live out the non-negotiable elements which define all authentic eremitical life.

Are Older and Infirm Hermits Dispensed From their Vows?

[[Dear Sister, Though I have not been impressed with a lot of posts on the blog you referred people to a while ago, I thought the author did raise some good questions about what happens to consecrated hermits when they get older and can no longer live silence or solitude to the degree they once did, or maybe to the degree their Rule calls for. Do these hermits then cease to be consecrated hermits? If it is true that a younger hermit who was not living the terms of the canon could not be validly professed, then what does happen to an aging hermit who needs assistance with everyday needs? Also, I was wondering what happens to you when you get too old or too infirm to live on your own?]]

Yes, there were a couple of good questions embedded in the blog you mentioned. First of all, a hermit revises her Rule with the assistance or input of her director and her Bishop whenever there are significant changes in her life situation or circumstances. However, she continues to be responsible for living the non-negotiable elements of the Canon --- even when this does not look like what it did when she was younger. In some ways an aging hermit's solitude may actually be greater despite the presence of caregivers because she will be dealing more full time with illness and, of course, with separation from others who 1) cannot accommodate the rhythm of illness when added to eremitical solitude, or 2) who themselves will be dealing with illness and aging and may no longer be able to visit or call occasionally as they once did. One lives what one can and, in whatever way is possible, one gives her life to Christ and his People in an eremitical life --- even when there is a greater degree of contact with caregivers, doctors, etc. What we are describing here is not a highly social life but instead, a more isolated one which may also be made more difficult or even more significantly penitential because of a lack of sufficient physical silence.

Understanding the Silence of Solitude is Critical Here

What becomes critical here is that one understands the Canon calls for "the silence of solitude" and while this ordinarily requires significant physical silence and solitude, it remains the life's defining value even when one cannot secure for oneself the degree of physical silence or solitude one once could have and, indeed, needed daily. Here "the silence of solitude" especially means the quies or rest one finds in God alone, no matter the chaos that surrounds one or the pain one suffers daily. Here it is a matter of the quality of one's heart more than a matter of external conditions. A life given over to the silence of solitude in the midst of significant physical silence and solitude is essential to achieving this particular form of quies I think. It is the hermit's life of these realities along with assiduous prayer and penance which allows her to be a hermit even in the midst of a more populated and busy world --- including that more populated and busy world she may need to rejoin to a limited extent when she grows too old and infirm to care for herself in all the ways she is used to doing.

But let me be very clear. I am not speaking of pretense here or semantic sleight of hand. One cannot simply exchange a merely nominal "silence of solitude" for genuine and significant physical silence and solitude at the beginning (or at any other point) of one's eremitical life. One cannot, for instance, work full time outside the hermitage in a highly social job and then claim, "Well, the canon literally says, "the silence of solitude" NOT physical silence and solitude! I am living the canon just as it is written, Profess me!!" That would be a lie and destructive of the vocation. One is sufficiently formed in or comes to the silence of solitude as understood by hermits and monastics throughout the centuries only through diligent living of the other requirements of canon 603, namely, assiduous prayer and penance, stricter separation from the world (that is, from that which is resistant to Christ or which promises fulfillment apart from him or God), the evangelical counsels, and observation of a Rule all under the supervision of one's Bishop, one's delegate, and the direction of one's spiritual director. I have written before that the silence of solitude is not only the environment of the hermit's life, but that it is also the goal of her life and the unique gift or charism she brings to the Church and the world. For most solitary hermits there will come a time when in some ways at least, the silence of solitude is less clearly the environment of her daily life but perhaps all the more striking for that, more vividly the goal and gift of her life.

No hermit who has given her life to Christ and his Church in eremitical solitude for 25 to 35 or more years of her life and who then becomes infirm and elderly to the point of needing caregivers or assisted living will cease being a consecrated hermit. There is no diocese, I sincerely believe, who would then dispense this hermit's vows or thus "secularize her" because "she is no longer living the terms of the canon." Should her mental faculties fail, she will continue to be what she lived --- a hermit consecrated by God through the Church's mediation, and she will die as that as well, as impaired as her human poverty may have left her in her final years. What will not leave her, what will not cease to be true and a vital part of her continuing identity is her covenant with God who loves her in her poverty and sustains her in this as he has done in all other things in which she has given herself to him. This covenant and the rest it leads to has shaped her life. So too will it shape her elder years and death.

What Happens to Me?

So, what happens to me when I get too old or infirm to live alone? I honestly don't know. This is one of the difficulties facing diocesan hermits who are not, therefore, part of a community, and who must be self-supporting with a vow of poverty. Here in the diocese of Oakland there is a large residence connected with the Sisters of Mercy. A lot of retired priests and religious needing assisted living go there. Perhaps I will be able to take advantage of that myself. I really don't know. Here you have put your finger on one of the more neuralgic questions facing diocesan hermits and at this point in time there is simply no real answer for many of us --- especially if we are very poor and need an environment where we can continue to live our solitude with God as best as we are able. I am afraid most nursing homes would simply not accommodate such needs.

Unpacking our Belief in the Resurrection --- A beginning

Next week there will be a number of intriguing readings. Two are on Thursday. The first is from the Acts of the Apostles where Peter stands up and castigates the Jews for what they did to Jesus, but also offers them a chance to accept a place in the new covenant. The second is from Luke and follows the story of the disciples on the road to Emmaus. In this lection they are explaining to other disciples how Jesus met them on the road and they recognized him in the breaking of the bread when suddenly he shows up in their midst. What is so striking is the degree of fear they experience. They are startled of course, but Luke makes clear that they are also terrified and think they are seeing a ghost. Jesus has them touch him, shows them his hands and feet, allows them to know he is flesh and blood --- though not as they are used to given his capacity to appear and vanish at will --- and eats some baked fish.



Both readings mean to demonstrate that something astounding has happened, something which changes everything. Whatever this is, it gives courage to those who were hiding for fear of their own lives and allows them to speak about Jesus with a new kind of boldness (parrhesia). Peter, despite his own denials of Jesus is now a community leader and returns to his own people, the very ones who condemned and militated for the crucifixion of Jesus as a blasphemer and would certainly have condemned Peter and the others as well, to tell them about belief in a crucified messiah --- an incomprehensible combination of words until this point! What Peter knows is that the crucified messiah lives; he has been raised from godless death to new and eternal existence by his Father; he has been completely vindicated and the result is a new and everlasting covenant, a new and everlasting dialogical form of existence with God for all who will follow him and be baptized into his death. Awesome as this all is though, it is not enough, as the gospel reading makes plain.

It is not simply that Jesus has been raised to a new and eternal existence; he has been raised to a new and eternal BODILY existence, and this is something I think many of us miss when we think of resurrection. (Or we think of life after death as the real climax of the story when it is only the penultimate part of it.) Jesus moves between two worlds now; he moves between heaven and earth. In him these two realms interpenetrate one another in a way they had not before. The veil between sacred and profane has been truly torn asunder in the Christ Event. The life Jesus lives and offers to us is not simply life after death but a bodily existence in a remade world. When we speak of Christ as the first fruits of a new creation this is really what we are referring to --- to the fact that he has been raised to new life by God to represent a new kind of bodily existence where heaven and earth interpenetrate one another in a new way. We believe that our world is no longer dominated by death in the way it was before the Cross and that in Christ heaven and earth will interpenetrate one another more and more completely as Christians accept their own vocations to follow Christ until one day God is, in Paul's words, all-in-all.

I found the readings challenging in several ways. Once my immediate response to the lection from Acts would have been something like: "Oh, Peter, who do you think you are sermonizing in this way?" But today I see him as an image of the church with its commission to every Christian to proclaim the gospel with boldness in spite of past sinfulness, past betrayals and denials of Christ. Peter too has experienced the risen Christ, not least in the breaking of the bread just as we each do every day, and he has been transformed by the experience. And all the disciples have now had "the Scriptures opened to them" so that they may read older texts with news eyes and heart in light of their experience of Jesus' vindication by God. There is a new covenant, consistent with, but perfecting the older one, a new creation, consistent with but perfecting the older creation, a new Temple, a new Law rooted in Gospel, and in all this, a new hope for heaven and earth together.

The Gospel is especially challenging, not merely because it expects Jesus' disciples to put aside terror at something they were wholly unprepared for (THIS resurrection was NOT something they had foreseen really, nor was it something major versions of Judaism itself believed in per se), but because it expects us to accept that resurrection is a bodily reality, and that God's Kingdom will be realized here within space and time as eternity and spatio-temporality are allowed to more completely interpenetrate one another and God become all in all. We cannot simply hope for heaven and turn from efforts at building the Kingdom of God here on earth. We cannot simply relinquish a vocation to genuine holiness as something achieved elsewhere; instead God achieves it in our very midst, in the midst of space and time, in the midst of THIS life with these circumstances, weaknesses, and failings. Christ has obediently (responsively and openly) plumbed the depths of human existence, deeper than any of us will ever go ourselves (thank God!), and in so doing he has implicated God in every moment and mood of this existence.

He has made of us a new creation and asks us to bring it to completion in Him. So the good news of Jesus' resurrection is accompanied by a great commission issued to each of us. Proclaim the good news of a new creation with boldness. In me see with new eyes, love with a new heart, imagine with a new hope! In me make all things new! Resurrection, after all, is not simply life after death; it is a new bodily existence we already share in and owe to the world.

Good Friday: Jesus' Descent into Hell

I wrote the following for my parish bulletin a couple of years ago so it is quite brief. I wanted to provide an enlarging introduction for it and that is the following portion in italics.

When Miraculous Healings and Exorcisms are not Enough:

 A couple of days ago (28. March, Madman or Messiah?) I posted a piece focusing on how the darkness closed in on Jesus. Just as Judas had betrayed him and left the Passover, when things could hardly get darker or Jesus more dishonored, Jesus cries out in a kind of exultation, "Now the Son of Man is glorified, and in him is glorified the One who sent him!"  Is he a madman or the messiah? On Good Friday, that question is sharpened; the darkness does deepen, shame is heightened to unimaginable levels, and sinful death claims Jesus. My point there was the Lord's work was not accomplished in miracles, or preaching, or exorcisms --- as important symbols of God's Reign as those were. In each case darkness and godlessness eclipsed these works of Jesus. In each case Jesus failed to bring the Kingdom of God in a final victory. The destruction of sin and evil had to occur at a much more profound level.

On Good Friday and Holy Saturday, when death seems to have the last word and swallows the Word of God Incarnate in a long and impenetrable silence, Jesus' work continues in the most profound solitude. Obedient (open and responsive to God) even to the point of godless death, Jesus' love creates an opening for God's entrance into the kingdom of sin, darkness, and death. Obedient unto death on a cross Jesus implicates the Love-in-act we call God into this very realm and thus, forever transforms it and our entire world. From another perspective we can say that through the obedient work of Christ, God takes godless death into himself and is not destroyed by it. Instead the world is remade, a New Creation is accomplished. This is the work of Good Friday and Holy Saturday. At its heart is the revelation of God's love, not merely a demonstration of its reality and extent, but a making it real in the unexpected and even the completely unacceptable place, making it real even in the depths of godlessness.

The Depths of God's Love are Made Real in the Godless Place:


During Holy week we recall and celebrate the central events of our faith which reveal just how deep and incontrovertible is God's love for us. It is the climax of a story of "self-emptying" on God's part begun in creation and completed in the events of the cross. In Christ, and especially through his openness and responsiveness (i.e., his obedience) to the One he calls Abba, God enters exhaustively into every aspect of our human existence and in no way spares himself the cost of such solidarity. Here God is revealed as an unremitting Love which pursues us without pause or limit. Even our sinfulness cannot diminish or ultimately confound this love. Nothing – the gospel proclaims -- will keep God from embracing and bringing us “home” to Himself. As the Scriptures remind us, our God loves us with a love that is “stronger than death." It is a love from which, “Neither death nor life, nor powers nor principalities, nor heights nor depths, nor anything at all” can ultimately separate us! (Romans 8)

It is only against this Scriptural background that we make sense of the article of the Apostles’ Creed known as Jesus’ “descent into hell”. Hell is, after all, not the creation of an offended God designed to punish us; it is a state of ultimate emptiness, inhumanity, loneliness, and lovelessness which is created, sustained, and exacerbated (made worse) by every choice we make to shut God out --- to live, and therefore to die, without Love itself. Hell is the fullest expression of the alienation which exists between human beings and God. As Benedict XVI writes, it is that “abyss of absolute loneliness” which “can no longer be penetrated by the word of another” and“into which love can no longer advance.” And yet, in Christ God himself will advance into this abyss and transform it with his presence. Through the sinful death of God’s Son, Love will become present even here.

To say that Christ died what the New Testament refers to as sinful, godless, “eternal”, or “second death” is to say that through his passion Jesus entered this abyss and bore the full weight of human isolation and Divine abandonment. In this abject loneliness and hopelessness --- a hell deeper than anyone has ever known before or will ever know again --- Christ, though completely powerless to act on his own, remains open and potentially responsive to God. This openness provides God with a way into this state or place from which he is otherwise excluded. In Christ godforsakenness becomes the good soil out of which the fullness of resurrection life springs. As a result, neither sin nor death will ever have the final word, or be a final silence! God will not and has not permitted it!

The credal article affirming Jesus’ descent into hell was born not from the church’s concern with the punishing wrath of God, but from her profound appreciation of the depth of God’s love for us and the lengths to which God would go to redeem us. What seems at first to be an unreservedly dark affirmation, meant mainly to terrify and chasten with foreboding, is instead the church's most paradoxical statement of the gospel of God’s prodigal love. It is a stark symbol of what it costs God to destroy that which separates us from Love and bring us to abundant Life. It says that forgiveness is not about God changing his mind about us – much less having his anger appeased or his honor restored through his Son’s suffering and death. Instead, it is God’s steadfast refusal to let the alienation of sin stand eternally. In reconciling us to himself, God asserts his Lordship precisely in refusing to allow enmity and alienation to remain as lasting realities in our lives or world.

What Gives You Pleasure?

[[Hi Sister Laurel,  I wanted to thank you for your reply on what was most important to you in living your vocation or what you most enjoyed and looked forward to each day. If I can I would like to ask a somewhat different question, that is, what gives you pleasure during a day? I understand that Scripture and the other things give you joy but I think the question of pleasure is a different one.]]

Well, really interesting question! I am sure I have never been asked it before! Yes, the question of what gives me pleasure is a different question than the one of joy though there is also some overlap. So what gives me pleasure? Well, a hot shower certainly does. So does the hot cup of tea or spiced cider I sip during Lauds or before my first period of quiet prayer (I use a themos mug so it stays hot for several hours). In Summer praying outside and watching the sunrise is a distinct pleasure. Seeing the face or hearing the voice of the friend who gives me a ride to Mass some mornings gives me real pleasure. Being able to lector or chant or serve the cup at daily Mass gives me pleasure. (I prefer serving the host at Sunday Mass and that is an immense pleasure.) Returning to my hermitage after Mass gives me pleasure. Crafting a good paragraph or getting a violin passage entirely under my fingers gives me pleasure.  Hearing or seeing something new in a Scripture passage gives me pleasure. Seeing signs of real growth in a client gives me both joy and pleasure.

Many weeks I give a reflection at a Liturgy of the Word with Communion and when it really comes together that is a distinct pleasure. (It's a good deal more than that as well of course.) Meeting with my delegate is always a pleasure, especially when we have dinner together --- even when what we talk about is difficult. A new theology book by NT Wright, or Sandra  Schneiders, or the occasional mystery by Anne Perry or a fantasy by Robin Hobb are major pleasures. A bowl of my Spicy Corn Chowder is a pleasure especially on fast or abstinence days or in the Winter more generally, and in cold weather sitting next to my space heater and really feeling toasty warm is a pleasure. So is doing dishes in hot soapy water. Sitting with my cat Clancy curled up and sleeping in my lap is a pleasure. In Summer praying outside again in the middle of the night is a pleasure. At the end of the day climbing into bed with my fleece sheets is a terrific pleasure! And of course periods of sleep are real pleasures whenever they occur.

I haven't made an exhaustive list here. Just some of the things that came to mind and made me smile as I thought about some more usual days. Thanks for the question, considering it was a pleasure!!

On the Deadly Sin of Individualism in the Eremitical Life

[[Dear Sister Laurel, are you aware of a "Catholic Hermit" who has recently written the following: [[No one else [besides the hermit, the SD, and God] really knows the whys or wherefores of how a consecrated Catholic hermit is or should be or has to be living his or her life. In fact, no one should be declaring a Catholic hermit consecrated or not consecrated in the Catholic Church, based upon his or her own interpretations of what is specified in Church documents, or presuming someone has an impediment to being in the Consecrated Life of the Church. A Catholic hermit's bishop and/or spiritual director or other Church authority can make that determination when it comes down to validity, if that designation even matters ultimately, eternally (and not the least) to His Real Presence!]]

And also, [[But it is not to judge them, or decide they are not living their lives "according to Hoyle" (according to some other Catholic hermit or non-hermit, or through the eyes of various individual priests or bishops or lay persons who have their own notions but not necessarily God's omniscience for each consecrated Catholic hermit living or dead.]] How can a Catholic hermit argue that an individual Bishop cannot be considered authoritative because he doesn't have God's omniscience? How can she argue that a Bishop's determination that someone's consecration is invalid (or valid I guess) might not even matter ultimately or eternally? It all sounds like a very Protestant approach to vocations and authority, but not very Catholic.]]

Thanks for the questions. Yes I am very aware of the post this all came from. I read it two or three days ago. It is a followup to a post this lay hermit already put up which asked the question, "Who do they think they are?" It seems that a "young canonist" (and member of another consecrated vocation) wrote something upsetting about hermits working full time and opined that vows would be invalid in certain circumstances. If I am correct in this, the offending posts (these were the only pertinent ones I could find that were at all recent) were on the blog, "Do I Have a Vocation?" which is written by Therese Ivers, JCL, a canonist and Consecrated Virgin I consider a friend. Beyond this she specializes in the law of consecrated life and is working on a doctorate in canon law focusing on Canon 603 so she certainly knows what she is talking about. (By the way, though written the 1st of February I only saw this article for the first time about a week ago; I was very gratified by Therese's referral to my blog.)

Now Therese and I don't always agree on everything (who does?), and sometimes we even disagree on relatively small details in regard to canon 603, but her posts on whether or not a hermit should work full time and on private vows were spot on. cf: Can Diocesan Hermits Have Full Time Jobs?, etc. Most importantly she dealt with abuses of canon 603 which have happened because dioceses have used the canon as a stopgap solution to profess non hermits who worked full time in highly social jobs. While you did not quote this portion of the post,  you can hear I hope, the incredible irony of a blogger who is herself a privately dedicated hermit dismissing Therese's expertise in Canon 603 on the grounds that she, though a canonist and consecrated virgin, is not a consecrated hermit.

The Church is very clear on who is considered a member of the consecrated state of life and who is not. There is one sentence in the Catechism of the Catholic Church which has caused some confusion because of its location in paragraphs on eremitical life under the heading "The Consecrated Life", but this is really a minor problem since the catechism's own glossary and other paragraphs make it very clear that (except for consecrated virgins living in the world) entrance into the consecrated state always comes to be through profession made in the hands of a legitimate superior with both the authority and the intention of doing this. The sentence refers to hermits who do not make vows publicly but canon 603 allows for sacred bonds other than vows so the sentence could be an awkward reference to this or an attempt to speak to lay hermits without duplicating the paragraphs in another section of the CCC. The c 603 profession itself, however, (whatever form it takes) is always public. In any case, when confusion exists it is up to canonists to make clear the requirements and Therese Ivers is certainly capable of authoritatively doing this --- and does do so for dioceses seeking clarification.

Also, the Church is very clear what constitutes an eremitical life lived in her name. Canon 603 says it is a life of the silence of solitude (not just silence and solitude), stricter separation from the world (that is, from all that is resistant to Christ or promises fulfillment in the way the God of Jesus Christ does), assiduous prayer and penance,  profession of the evangelical counsels, all lived according to a Rule or Plan of Life the hermit writes herself and lives under the supervision of the local Bishop. For this reason, the Church has every right through canonists, Bishops, theologians, and others to say what the terms of this canon and all it requires actually means, both explicitly and implicitly. This is especially true when the Church seeks to understand this canon in conjunction with the history of the eremitical life generally and this canon's history specifically.

Beyond this, the actual living out of this vocation in the contemporary world means that Catholic Hermits who deal daily with the tension that exists between the canon's pure or ideal expression (if there even is such a thing!) and the hermit's necessary existence in time and space means the Church will also pay attention to the input of those who are publicly professed and canonically obligated to live the canons governing their life. To state that only the hermit, the SD, and God [[really know the whys or wherefores of how a consecrated Catholic hermit is or should be or has to be living his or her life]] flies in the face of canon 603's explicit and implicit requirements. The Diocesan Bishop and/or Vicars for Religious as well (especially I would argue) as the hermit's delegate (and to a lesser degree or in a different way, the hermit's Pastor) are required to know "the whys and wherefores" of the hermit's life if they are to meet their own ecclesial obligations in her regard.

I can't overstate the importance of understanding vocations to the consecrated state as ecclesial vocations. They are gifts of the Holy Spirit TO the Church, yes, but they are also entrusted to the Church to discern, protect, nurture and govern. That means that they are given to the WHOLE Church and are up to the WHOLE Church to receive and protect -- even when this mainly occurs through legitimate superiors acting in the name of the Church. They are vocations belonging to the Church and she legislates then way they are to be understood and lived. While this does not mean that everyone has an equal voice in the matter, it does mean that folks knowledgeable in the history of the life 'called "consecrated", or those who have lived such lives, do have the right, and often the obligation, to make their opinions known. At the end of the day it is the institutional  Church herself who will clarify what is acceptable or not but until that happens, folks with knowledgeable  or authoritative opinions will discuss matters and give their opinions when asked. What having an ecclesial vocation does NOT mean is that one can do whatever one wants and then conclude "it's up to me and my director and the omniscience of God" just because they belong to the Church that is entrusted with the vocation. This is simply untrue.

No competent director I know would declare a person "consecrated", that is, a member of the consecrated state because he witnessed their private vows. Neither would any competent director suggest one need not listen to what canonists, theologians, or Bishops say about such vocations. None would suggest that a person could assert she knows God's will better than the entire Church and then approve of her living her vocation "in the name of the Church" with out ever being legitimately commissioned to do so. There is a loose usage common regarding the verb "to consecrate" and I hope it ceases sooner rather than later, but even if a spiritual director did mistakenly encourage a directee to declare herself a consecrated hermit or professed religious because she had dedicated herself to God as a hermit, this does not change what the Church herself authoritatively says about initiation into the consecrated state of life.

Let me close this with a quote or two from Pope Francis speaking about vocations to the conse-crated state. It can be found in Keep Watch! A Letter to Consecrated Men and Women Journeying in the Footsteps of God. Francis says, [[ When the Lord wants to give us a mission, he wants to give us a task, he prepares us to do it well, just like he prepared Elijah. The important thing is not that you've encountered the Lord but the whole journey to accomplish the mission that the Lord entrusted to you. And this is precisely the difference between the apostolic mission that the Lord gives us and a good, honest, human task. Thus, when the Lord bestows a mission, he always employs a process of purification, a process of perception, a process of obedience, a process of prayer.]]

And then there is the following one, which, while written with cenobites in mind applies equally well to hermits with ecclesial vocations. That is especially true bearing in mind  St Peter Damian's characterization of solitary hermits as "ecclesiola" or "little churches": [[Thanks be to God you do not live or work as isolated individuals but in community: and thank God for this! The community [local Church] supports the whole of the apostolate. At times religious communities are fraught with tensions, and risk becoming individualistic and scattered, whereas the need is deep communication and authentic relationships. The humanizing power of the Gospel is witnessed to in fraternity lived in community [the local parish and diocese, etc] and is created through welcome, respect, mutual help, understanding, kindness, forgiveness and joy.]]

I have written many times here that the really deadly sin of the solitary hermit is  individualism. This is the real route of destruction for an ecclesial vocation and  a  destructive caricature of eremitical solitude. No one who prays regularly much less assiduously can separate themselves from the community of the Church. No one living a vocation in the name of the Church can eschew the opinions of those who knowledgeably comment on the requirements of the canons governing their own vocations. They certainly cannot suggest that no matter what the Church says, they don't need to listen to anyone's opinion but those of their spiritual director and God and (if they have even been given this right) still legitimately call themselves a Catholic Hermit. For those who are lay hermits but not living their eremitical lives in the name of the Church I think they must still be concerned with what the Church says about the eremitical vocation; they can make their own opinions heard in this matter and are relatively free to live as they feel called, but they should take care not to exchange individualism for eremitical freedom.

The Cross: Revelation of a Humility that Stands in Spite of Humiliation (Reprise)

Because it is Holy Week and we are approaching the Cross, I will be reposting several pieces on the theology of the cross. This will include a couple of pieces written just recently as in the instance of the following posted only a month ago at the end of February.  Especially I want to look at the cross from the vantage point of shame or dishonor vs humility and glory, a dimension which is often absent from systematic presentations of this theology.

[[Dear Sister, when we look at the cross I don't think your distinction between humiliation and humility holds. Jesus suffers all kinds of humiliation and is humbled. He shows real humility as a result of his humiliation.]] (cf. From Humiliation to Humility: Resting in the Gaze of God)

Thanks for your comment. I get what you are saying: it is in being humiliated that Jesus shows great humility, right? At the same time you are saying, I think, that humiliation leads to humility. In this you have actually put your finger on one of the most destructive confusions and interpretations of the cross ever imagined. You see, while I would agree that Jesus shows incredible humility in the midst of great humiliation, where we seem to disagree is that his humility is a result of his humiliation. Remember that Jesus possesses great humility throughout his life. He possesses it in spite of temptation, trial, and in spite of humiliation. Humiliation leads to or results in shame; humility, on the other hand, is a form of graced dignity.

Jesus knows who he is in light of God's love, "You are my beloved Son in whom I am well pleased", and he holds onto that sense of identity, that dignity we know as humility even in the midst of shaming torture and crucifixion. When others are betraying him, abandoning him, and trying him for blasphemy and betrayal of the God he knows as Abba, that is when others are shaming him, Jesus counters all of this by holding onto who he knows himself to be in the light of God's love.

It is important in reflecting on the cross that we distinguish between the judgment and activities of a sinful body-and-soul-murdering mankind and what is of God. The humiliation and arena of shame is created by human beings who see Jesus' incredibly wonderful works and deem him demonic and blasphemous. When they raise a person up it is to the heights of degradation and shame. But at that same point God sees most clearly his beloved Son, loving and obedient even unto death on a cross. From THAT vantage point what is revealed to us, what empowers Jesus even in his dying, is the epitome of humility --- a transcendent dignity which is perfected in weakness.

Again then, when you look at the cross and find humiliation you can trace that to the soul-killing judgment of men and women and to their murderous "execution of judgment." As I wrote recently, God NEVER humiliates. NEVER! Human beings demean, degrade, or hold us up to shame (as they did Jesus on the cross). God raises to humility. When you look at the cross and find genuine humility you must trace that to the graced knowledge of self that comes ultimately from God. It would be an incredibly destructive reading of the events of the cross to see humiliation as the cause of humility. Humility is the incredible dignity Jesus possesses in spite of the shaming humiliation human judgment subjected him to.

I sincerely hope this is helpful.

On Symbols and Ongoing Mediation of Ecclesial Vocations

[[Dear Sister Laurel, I was intrigued by something you wrote recently about the mediation of one's vocation to the consecrated state. You said that the mediation is a continuing reality and that this is linked to the reason we call such vocations "ecclesial." I couldn't cut and paste the passage but maybe you can do that for me? What I was wondering was whether you might say a little more about this? It is a new idea that my legitimate superior might play a part in the continuing mediation of my vocation and since I don't wear a habit I wonder how that applies. I believe I can see some of this now that you say it but I was hoping you would explain more fully. How are you using the term symbol? It must be in a more active sense than I am used to. Thanks for considering my questions.]]

Thanks, Sister, for your questions. Here is the passage you referred to:

[[ The bottom line in all of this is that initiation into the consecrated state is always a mediated event. Someone intentionally acting "in the name of the Church" admits a person to and mediates this consecration. Further, mediation of one's life in this state is a continuing reality with both liturgical and canonical dimensions. It extends not only to the mutual discernment of the vocation and the formal, liturgical mediation of the call itself by the Bishop at the time of definitive profession, but also to the extension of rights and obligations as well as to the legitimate relationships established to govern and supervise the vocation. All of these things participate in the continuing mediation of God's call to the person and the person's continuing response to and embodiment of this vocation.

This is precisely why such vocations are called ecclesial. At every point the individual lives the charismatic aspect of her vocation in light of the Church's own liturgical and canonical mediation and governance. Similarly, it is this dynamic covenantal relationship that constitutes the "stable state of life" one enters upon definitive profession and consecration. The hermit's Rule is the pre-eminent symbol of all of this but there are other symbols as well, legitimate superiors, religious garb and prayer garment, title and post-nomial initials. All of these point to a stable state of life which is dependent upon the Church's own continuing mediation. All of these participate in the mediation of this vocation, in differing ways and to greater and lesser degrees.]] (cf. If Vows are not Legitimate are they Illegitimate?)

My ideas here are based first on the sense that a vocation, even when we say yes to it in a definitive act (perpetual or solemn profession) is something we must say yes to every day. Secondly it is based on the ecclesial nature of the vocation to the consecrated state and the stable structures and relationships intrinsic to it. I think the bottom line is that every vocation is a living reality at whose heart is the living God and our response to that God. The relationships involved must be renewed ---offered and accepted anew every day. Even in prayer this is often an ecclesially mediated relationship.                                      

I have become more sensitive to the dynamic involved as I have dealt with several isolated lay hermits who live without any Rule, supervision, or oversight, and no real relationship to the Church beyond the fact of their baptism. (Claiming to live at the heart of the Church despite never attending Mass, having no relationship to the local Church and living an isolated life one simply calls "being a hermit" is to claim a destructive fiction which betrays one's baptismal vows and covenant; moreover it mistakes individualist isolation for eremitical solitude.) I have also become more sensitive to the reality of the continuing mediation of my vocation because of 1) my own work with my delegate and 2) the sense of responsibility (the call to respond) I have to my parish, both directly (as part of this community) and indirectly (as a hermit in their midst). I believe that a number of members of the parish perceive whether more or less obscurely, they are a part of this continuing mediation. Certainly my pastor does. In any case what has become clearer and clearer to me is that my own vocational call continues to be mediated to me via a variety of stable ecclesial structures and relationships.

While you undoubtedly know the experience of hearing God's call in a definitive way and having said a definitive yes to God's call in your perpetual or solemn profession, I am sure you also experience the need for an ongoing recommitment daily, weekly, annually at retreat, etc. But this is not a recommitment to an abstract idea of "vocation". It is the recommitment to the living God mediated to us in prayer, Liturgy, Scripture, and the stable relationships of our state of life. I did and do not commit to an abstract notion of eremitical life so much as I commit to the God who calls me to meet, remain with, love and be loved by him in the silence of solitude. Secondarily I commit to honoring and representing as honestly as I can a living tradition which is the Christian eremitical tradition. The opportunities for saying yes again and again are innumerable. But consider that there are certain privileged ways in which the invitation to say yes to God's specific call and thus, to his setting you or myself apart for service in the consecrated state of life occurs regularly in our lives.

Rule and Delegate (or Legitimate Superiors):

In my own life it is my Rule of Life that serves this function most explicitly almost every day of my life, but especially as I make decisions about variations in my horarium or whether to do x or y at my parish. It is rarely far from my mind as I write about this vocation or reflect on the terms of the canon (603), but the idea here is that it is a symbol of the life I have said yes to, a symbol of what has been life giving to me even before I wrote the Rule, and a symbol of the life the Church of Oakland commissioned me to live and the Bishop of Oakland approved with a Decree of Approval.

My Rule is a deeply personal document because it was my own work reflecting years of growth, study, and life in solitude, but it is also now an ecclesial document that marks my life as one of covenant with God as well as with and through my Diocese and the Universal Church. It is a living document which challenges, consoles, encourages, and empowers. Because it includes the episcopal (Bishop's) Decree of Approval it participates in the Church's own commission to me (and her prayer that it will assist me) to live the eremitical life well. In all of those things it mediates God's own call to me and invites my response. In all of these ways and more it mediates God's own Spirit to me.

Something similar happens with meetings with my delegate, or with my Bishop. In meetings with my delegate especially as we explore how I am living my life, problems that may occur, shifts in my understanding of the terms of the Canon or my Rule, and much more. Each meeting involves my own getting in touch with what I am called and consecrated to live; it gives me a chance to look at the overall pattern of my commitment to this life and to renew that. I genuinely feel that the vocation is extended to me in a fresh way during these meetings and that I answer that call in a significant way. Since my delegate serves both me and the diocese as my superior (or "quasi-superior") her role is an ecclesial one and it is not hard to see meetings with her as an expression and renewal of the covenant relationship between myself and the Church. These are not formal meetings, there is no liturgical element (though sometimes we have dinner together), but they do indeed continue to mediate call and response to an ecclesial vocation.

I would bet you that were I to discuss the matter with my delegate she would describe a sense of being responsible for the continuing mediation of God's call to me and my response to that call. I suspect that every person in the role of superior realizes to some extent that their governance is a piece of the mediation of ecclesial vocations. I suspect that most of the time the verb "to mediate" or the noun "mediation" are not the language used but however we speak of the active participation in the nurturing, protection, and governance of vocations to the consecrated state the idea is the same: we participate in the continuing mediation of call and response whenever we participate obediently (attentively and responsively) in the legitimate relationships which are part of life in a stable state of life.

On Habits and Other Clothes as Mediatory Symbols:

In fact, something similar happens every time I get dressed --- or when I put on my cowl (prayer garment) whether in the hermitage or in Church --- though to a much lesser extent. There is a renewal of what is very specifically an ecclesial vocation, an ecclesial identity. You may not wear a habit but I will bet you and your congregation made a conscious decision about what you do wear and that it reflects your own commitment to ministerial religious life, your own commitment to remind people of the vocational dignity of the laity, and to your own accessibility to the folks you encounter. My clothes (generally speaking!) are a symbol of what I have been called to, whether monastic or specifically eremitical. To put them on is to remind myself that what I live I live in the name of the Church. It is to accept anew my part in the covenant made with the Church at consecration --- at least when I am attentive to its potential and significance.

Yours may well also be a symbol of your ecclesial vocation, though not a symbol most people will automatically recognize or understand in this way. After all, as noted below, symbols are born, and this birthing may take time. It seems to me that they may certainly function in this way for you and for many ministerial Sisters. (I admit I have mainly thought about this with regard to the habit so accept these ideas as entirely  tentative.) Your own clothes generally reflect the values of your congregation, the values you personally affirm and live as a vowed ministerial Sister. What I am saying is that every time you consider what you are wearing and why you are doing so, your own commitment is (or at least may well be) renewed and the clothes can be the mediatory symbol which empowers this. Consecrated Virgins living in the World are specifically called to wear secular clothes rather than a habit. This is an explicit part of their ecclesial vocation and covenant: it can be a profound symbol of the very essence of their call and response to consecrated or eschatological secularity and can be a means for the continuing mediation of that call and response. Through this way of dressing, especially in its modesty and simplicity, the Church's own life and holiness further interpenetrates everyday life and the sacred transforms the profane.

Symbols:

When I speak of symbols I mean what Paul Tillich meant by them, namely, mediatory realities which participate in the very things which they mediate. They are much more than signs because signs only signify something by virtue of common agreement. Symbols are living realities which are born and can die. Moreover, as Tillich writes: [[ A symbol has truth: it is adequate to the revelation it expresses. [Here we might think of bread or wine being an adequate symbol to convey a nourishing reality or communion.] A symbol is true: it is the expression of a true revelation. [Here we can think of Bread and Wine being a new expression or embodiment of the Risen Christ.]] (It is important to remember that the term revelation means both "making known" and "making real" in space and time! This corresponds, I think, to the two senses of symbol Tillich speaks about.) Or again, Tillich writes, [[Religious symbols are double edged. They are directed toward the infinite which they symbolize and toward the finite through which they symbolize it. . .They open the divine for the human and the human for the divine.]] and finally, [[A religious symbol can die only if the correlation of which it is an adequate expression dies. This occurs whenever the revelatory situation changes and former symbols become obsolete.]]  (ST I:240)

Catholics often object to calling Eucharistic bread and wine "symbols" but really, in the way some first rate Protestant and Catholic theologians use the term "symbol," they mean bread and wine which participates in the Divine reality they mediate to us. These things ARE Jesus Christ himself; they are the way we meet and take him into ourselves. They are not merely a sign of Jesus' gift of self or love, they are a living reality which mediates Jesus' very self to us. We rightly respond "Amen" when presented with the affirmation, "the Body/Blood of Christ." This is one of the truly privileged ways --- even the most privileged way --- the Risen Christ is embodied in our world.  (N. B., Let me be clear, I am not attempting to convey an adequate theology of Eucharist here, nor am I saying the term symbol says everything Catholic theology says about the Real Presence --- though it is far more powerfully expressive of the heart of this theology than most Catholics actually understand; I am merely trying to speak of the proper way we ought to understand the idea of a symbol.)

An Introduction to Holy Week: Madman or Messiah? We Wait in the Darkness (Reprised)

[I have rewritten this in places to use as an introduction to Holy Week instead of only the Triduum. Because of the problems in the Middle East and the terrible suffering of Christians there I wanted to do this -- though I think it (especially in the more original format) works best for the Triduum itself. Still, if I have missed changing the tenses of a few passages, I sincerely apologize!]

In trying to explain the Cross, Paul once said, "Where sin increased, grace abounded all the more." During this Holy Week, the Gospel readings focus us on the first part of Paul's statement.

Tonight begins the celebration of Palm Sunday and Holy Week; it is a day of huge highs and lows, from the triumphant entrance into Jerusalem to the depths of the passion ushering in a week of the greatest holiness and the most awful unholiness we might imagine. In the Gospel for this coming Tuesday we will hear John's version of the story of Judas' betrayal of Jesus and the prediction of Peter's denials as well. For weeks we have been hearing stories of a growing darkness and threat centered on the person of Jesus. Pharisees and Scribes were irritated and angry with Jesus at the facile way he broke Sabbath rules or his easy communion with and forgiveness of sinners. That he spoke with an authority the people recognized as new and surpassing theirs was also problematical. Yesterday they picked up stones to kill Jesus. But Jesus Family and disciples too failed to understand him; they thought him crazy, urged him to go to Jerusalem to work wonders and become famous.

Even his miracles were disquieting, not only because they increased the negative reaction of the religious leadership and the fear of the Romans as the darkness and threat continued to grow alongside them, but because Jesus himself seems to give us the sense that they are insufficient  and lead to misunderstandings and distortions of who he is or what he is really about. "Be silent!" we often hear him say. "Tell no one about this!" he instructs in the face of the increasing threat to his life. Futile instructions, of course, and, as those healed proclaim the wonders of God's grace in their lives, the darkness and threat to Jesus grows; The night comes ever nearer and we know that if evil is to be defeated, it must occur on a much more profound level than even thousands of such miracles.

In the last two weeks of Lent, the readings give us the sense that the last nine months of Jesus' life and active ministry was punctuated by retreat to a variety of safe houses as the priestly aristocracy actively looked for ways to kill him. He attended festivals in secret and the threat of stoning recurred again and again. Yet, inexplicably "He slipped away" we are told or, "They were unable to find an opening." The darkness is held at bay, barely. It will be held in check by the love of the people surrounding Jesus. Barely. And in the last safe house on the eve of Passover as darkness will close in on every side Jesus will celebrate a final Eucharist with his friends and disciples. He will wash their feet as a servant to all, recline at table with them like free men did. And yet, profoundly troubled, Jesus will speak of his impending betrayal by Judas. None of the disciples, not even the beloved disciple will understand what is happening. There will be one last chance for Judas to change his mind as Jesus hands him a morsel of bread in friendship and love. God's covenant faithfulness is maintained.

But Satan will enter Judas' heart and a friend of Jesus will become his accuser --- the meaning of the term Satan here --- and the darkness will enter this last safe house of light and friendship, faith and fellowship. It was night, John says. It was night. Judas' heart is the opening needed for the threatening darkness to engulf this place and Jesus as well. The prediction of Peter's denials tells us this "night" will get darker and colder and more empty yet.  But in John's story, when everything is at its darkest and lowest, Jesus exclaims in a kind of victory cry: [[ Now the Son of Man is glorified, and God is glorified in him!]] Here as darkness envelopes everything, Jesus exults that authentically human being is revealed, made known and made real in space and time; here, in the midst of  the deepening "Night" God too is revealed and made fully known and real in space and time. It is either the cry of a messiah who will overcome evil right at its heart --- or it is the cry of a madman who cannot recognize or admit the victory of evil as it swallows him up. In the midst of these days of life, death, and vigil, we do not really know which.

At the climax of Holy week we celebrate the three days we call the Triduum; our questions deepen and one way or another we will see what the answer is. On the day we paradoxically call "Good," the darkness intensifies. During the previous night Jesus was arrested and "tried" by the Sanhedrin with the help of false witnesses, desertion by his disciples, and Judas' betrayal. On this day he will be brought before the Romans, tried, found innocent, flogged in an attempt at political appeasement and then handed over anyway to those who would kill him by a fearful self-absorbed leader whose greater concern was for his own position. There is betrayal, of consciences, of friendships, of discipleship and covenantal bonds on every side but God's.

The night continues to deepen and the threat could not be greater.  Jesus will be crucified and eventually cry out his experience of abandonment even by God. He will descend into the ultimate godlessness, loneliness, and powerlessness we call hell. The darkness will become almost total. We ourselves will be able to see nothing else. That is where Good Friday and Holy Saturday leave us. And the question these events raise haunts the night and our own minds and hearts: messiah or madman? Is Jesus simply another person crushed by the cold, emptiness, and darkness of evil --- good and wondrous though his own works were or will God find a way to vindicate him even in the midst of godless death? (cf Gospel for yesterday: John 10:31-42.) We Christians will wait in the darkness during the Triduum. We will fast and pray and tell our traditional sacred stories about the surprising ways God has worked his will in the past; in doing so we try to hold onto hope that the one we called messiah, teacher, friend, beloved,  brother and Lord, was not simply deluded --- or worse --- and that we Christians are not, as Paul puts the matter, the greatest fools of all.

We have seen sin increase to immeasurable degrees. In this time of increased Christian martyrdom and the savagery of terrorists claiming the banner of religion, and though we do not begin to see how it might be possible, we trust that Paul was exactly right and that grace will abound all the more. And so, we wait. Bereft, but hopeful, we wait.

Oakland Civic Orchestra Plays Again!

This last Sunday OCO played music from the Americas including some little-known and seldom heard pieces. I have included the first movement from Villa Lobos' Symphonietta #1 and a piece by Bruce Reiprich called "Lullaby" played by our own concertmaster Christina Owens. The composer attended from Arizona and you will spot Mr Reiprich at the end when the flowers are handed out!






Addendum: I received the following question regarding the legitimacy (validity) of my playing in an orchestra: I am adding it and my response here rather than starting a new post for it. Others may be wondering about this as well.

[[Dear Sister if you are obligated to live in solitude and silence, then how does playing in an orchestra fit in with this? Apparently there is someone posting that some hermits are not really hermits if they leave their hermitage too much or work fulltime outside the hermitage and I wondered what you thought of this especially since you leave your hermitage each week.]]

Thanks for the question. By way of introduction it is important to realize that Canon 603 reads that I am obligated to stricter separation from the world, assiduous prayer and penance, and the silence of solitude lived according to a Rule I write myself and which is approved and supervised by my Bishop (and other superiors he designates). It should be understood that I am not obligated to reclusion nor to absolute physical silence. The excursions outside the hermitage I choose to make are those which are necessary (shopping, doctor's visits, Mass and parish responsibilities) or, if they are a matter of recreation, something which adds to or enhances "the silence of solitude" (being alone with God for the sake of others) and other non-negotiable elements of eremitical life.

In my own life, music, but especially playing violin (usually a very solitary activity), has always been a profound mediator of God's presence to me while playing music with others has been a significant experience of community. I still remember the first time I played in orchestra; it was a revelation! I was blown away by the sense of power and holiness of what I experienced there. I was only 11 or 12 at the time and that memory is as vivid as any (other) prayer experience I have ever had. It was my first genuine experience of the essence and meaning of community and it awed me.

We practiced our parts at home alone (something that was always akin to prayer for me and a powerful experience of tapping into something greater than myself); we did that during rehearsals too of course, but as a group something entirely new came to be --- something incredibly greater than the sum of the individual parts. Moreover, we came together to play the music and in the process learned to listen to and cooperate with one another, to blend our sound with and anticipate the needs of stand mates and section members, to interpret the silent gestures of the conductor, and to be responsible to one another so the orchestra as a whole could succeed in interpreting the notes and marks on the page of a composer who spoke to us silently and mysteriously over the centuries (another and different experience of transcendence). It might surprise you to learn that during the rehearsal there is actually relatively little talk or socializing in the usual sense; while highly communal, this kind of music-making is also a matter of profound solitude in the best sense of that term. If you look at what I write about eremitical solitude as a dialogical reality and especially about the silence of solitude as the result of communion with God lived for the sake of others, you may see that playing with an orchestra reprises the very same dynamics.

In any case, this activity has been life giving to me and a source of my contem-plative spirituality for more than fifty years --- long before I knew God by name or had embraced Catholicism. It is part of my coming to faith as well as to eremitical life and it is still a source of faith as well as part of understanding the potential of eremitical life. It has helped shape my sense of obedience (hearkening --- listening and responding appropriately), enlightened me regarding the invariable link between eremitical solitude and community, underscored the relation between prayer and penance (any activity or practice that helps prepare for, extend, and regularize prayer), and it has provided many varied inspiring and sustaining experiences of transcendence.

So long as I can truly accommodate orchestral playing with an eremitical life of the silence of solitude,  or more accurately, so long as it contributes to this life rather than detracting from it, it will continue to be a significant part of my life. For this reason I have written the one evening (@3 hours) each week I play with the orchestra into my Rule. I have done something similar with time I come together with friends from the orchestra for breakfast (pancakes!) and either quartets or quintets on some Saturday mornings.

Hermits and Fulltime work or time out of Cell:

I agree that a hermit who leaves her hermitage too often or spends too much time with others is not really a hermit. I have written myself about instances of people who work everyday outside the hermitage in highly social jobs and are not living the terms of the canon. They are not hermits. Flexibility is certainly allowed in any eremitical life and can be important to living it with integrity, but one cannot allow the actual terms of the canon to be contravened in the process; the terms of the canon must truly define and describe the life one lives even when there are necessary adaptations made for the sake of living the life itself. Remember that Carthusians, for instance, take time one day each week for a long walk together which is necessary to their living the solitude of the rest of the week well. I doubt anyone would seriously argue this makes them less than true full-time hermits. In any case, neither this nor 3 hours playing with an orchestra one evening a week, are the same as leaving the hermitage for 10-12 hours five days a week for a highly social job or spending the majority of one's life outside one's cell.

Everyone living eremitical solitude has to take care to build in sufficient recreation of a kind which contributes to one's more usual schedule, prayer, and solitude. The quality of this contribution is discerned and discussed with one's director and superiors. It cannot be an excuse, pretense, or mere distraction; it must truly contribute to the vocation ---  a little like the desert Father's story about the occasional unstringing or relaxation of a bow being important in allowing one to protect the bow's ability to draw and loose arrows with real power the rest of the time (think here of a violin bow instead which must also be loosened between periods of playing if it is to retain its strength and resiliency) --- but far richer too because of the dimension of profound sharing involved. For me one evening a week spent playing orchestral music (that is, working to learn and make music with others) provides many things which are absolutely integral to contemplative life, but not least some of the recreation and community as well as the discipline eremitical life itself requires.