First Sunday of Lent: Driven into the Desert by the "Spirit of Sonship"

I really love today's Gospel, especially at the beginning of Lent. The thing that strikes me most about it is that Jesus' 40 days in the desert are days spent coming to terms with and consolidating the identity which has just been announced and brought to be in him. (When God speaks, the things he says become events, things that really happen in space and time, and so too with the announcement that Jesus is his beloved Son in whom he is well-pleased.) Subsequently, Jesus is driven into the desert by the Spirit of love, the Spirit of Sonship, to explore that identity, to allow it to define him in space and time more and more exhaustively, to allow it to become the whole of who he is. One of the purposes of Lent is to allow us to do the same.

A sister friend I go to coffee with on Sundays remarked on the way from Mass that she had had a conversation with her spiritual director this last week where he noted that perhaps Jesus' post-baptismal time in the desert was a time for him to savor the experience he had had at his baptism. It was a wonderful comment that took my own sense of this passage in a new and deeper direction. Because of the struggle involved in the passage I had never thought to use the word savor in the same context, but as my friend rightly pointed out, the two often go together in our spiritual lives. They certainly do so in hermitages! My own director had asked me to do something similar when we met this last week by suggesting I consider going back to all those pivotal moments of my life which have brought me to the silence of solitude as the vocation and gift of my life. Essentially she was asking me not only to consider these intellectually (though she was doing that too) but to savor them anew and in this savoring to come to an even greater consolidation of my identity in God and as diocesan hermit.

Hermitages are places which reprise the same experience of consolidation and integration of our identity in God. They are deserts in which we come not only to learn who we are in terms of God alone, but to allow that to define our entire existence really and concretely -- in what we value, how we behave, in the choices we make, and those with whom we identify, etc. In last year's "In Good Faith" podcast for A Nun's Life, I noted that for me the choice which is fundamental to all of Lent and all of the spiritual life, "Choose Life, not death" is the choice between accepting and living my life according to the way God defines me or according to the way the "world" defines me. It means that no matter how poor, inadequate, ill, and so forth I also am, I choose to make God's announcement that in Christ  I am his beloved daughter in whom he is well-pleased the central truth of my life which colors and grounds everything else. Learning to live from that definition (and so, from the one who announces it) is the task of the hermit; the hermitage is the place to which the Spirit of love and Sonship drive us so that we can savor the truth of this incomprehensible mystery even as we struggle to allow it to become the whole of who we are.


But hermitages are, of course, not the only places which reprise these dynamics. Each of us has been baptized, and in each of our baptisms what was announced to us was the fact that we were now God's adopted beloved daughters and sons. Lent gives us the space and time where we can focus on the truth of this, claim that truth more whole-heartedly, and, as Thomas Merton once said, "get rid of any impersonation that has followed us" to the [desert]. We need to take time to identify and struggle with the falsenesses within us, but also to accept and appreciate the more profound truth of who we are and who we are called to become in savoring our experiences of God's love. As we fast in various ways, we must be sure to also taste and smell as completely as we can the nourishing Word of God's love for us. After all, the act of savoring is the truest counterpart of fasting for the Christian. The word we are called to savor is the word which defines us as valued and valuable in ways the world cannot imagine and nourishes us where the things of the world cannot. It is this Word we are called both to struggle with and to savor during these 40 days, just as Jesus himself did.

Thus, as I fast this Lent (in whatever ways that means), I am going to remember to allow myself not only to get in touch with my own deepest hungers and the hungers I share with all others (another very good reason to fast), but also to get in touch anew with the ways I have been fed and nourished throughout my life --- the experiences I need to savor as well. Perhaps then when Lent comes to an end I will be better able to claim and celebrate the one I am in God. My prayer is that each of us is able to do something similar with our own time in the desert.

Merton quotation taken from Contemplation in a World of Action, "Christian Solitude," p 244.

Is your life as a diocesan hermit jeopardized by a new Bishop coming in?

[[Dear Sister Laurel,

Are the rights and obligations you accepted with public profession in jeopardy should another Bishop come in? What I am thinking is what happens if a bishop comes in who doesn't believe there should be diocesan hermits? Would you lose your vows or your relationship with the Bishop?]]

No. While the more personal dimensions of the relationship between hermit and superior might be less than ideal in such a case --- especially in the beginning before the two people know each other better or, in particular, have had a chance to meet with each other one on one to discuss the vocation and how things are going with it, the hermit's vocation or vows are not in jeopardy simply because a new Bishop is installed. In my last post I noted that one of the relationships established in public vows was established between the Bishop, his successors, and the hermit. It is the office of Bishop in this specific diocese acting in the name of the whole Church which assumes a relationship of specific rights and obligations with regard to this hermit while the hermit herself assumes specific rights and obligations in regard to the local ordinary of this diocese via public vows --- whoever he is in the future. Should this Bishop move or retire, the rights and obligations of the hermit continue and the new Bishop assumes his predecessor's place in the legal (that is, canonical) relationship.

The hermit in perpetual vows, then, is not at risk of ceasing to be a diocesan hermit each time a new Bishop is installed. This is so even if that Bishop does not believe in the vocation and so forth. The situation with temporary vows differs somewhat, so let me make a bit of an excursus here. In such a case, there is a chance that the new Bishop would choose not to renew these vows once they had expired; temporary vows are made for a certain period of time and this remains a time of discernment for all involved. Should a new Bishop decide the vocation is wrong for the diocese at this time, find the person is not really called to either renewal of temporary vows (whether now or for some time period,) or to perpetual vows, then he has the right to refuse admittance to these and, when the vows expire, the person will cease to be a diocesan hermit. They would probably choose to remain a lay hermit in such a case, difficult as this might be for them in some ways but they would need to discern this step afresh. Also, one would hope that a Bishop coming into a diocese where there are diocesan hermits in temporary canonical (public) vows would himself act out of true discernment, and not out of bias of course, but the latter does remain a possibility.

My own vows however are canonical, perpetual, and were made to God in the hands of the Bishop as representative of the Church. He was acting in her name in receiving those vows, and so, his act binds the Church and the hermit in a new legal and public relationship. (At profession besides a copy of the vows signed and witnessed during the ceremony, I received a notarized statement verifying the public and perpetual nature of these vows signed by both the Bishop and the Vicar for Religious and Ecclesiastical notary.) Only the canonical dispensation of my vows for significant valid reasons can alter the relationships, rights, and obligations which obtain in public profession. Your question is really a good one because it helps outline the relative security of the relationship per se, as well as illuminating a piece of what we mean by initiation into a state of life. The Church defines consecrated life in part as involving initiation into the consecrated state achieved in a definitive (permanent, solemn, or perpetual) act --- that is, into a stable and lasting state where one dedicates oneself, is set apart (consecrated) by God and acquires rights and obligations which do not themselves flow directly from one's Baptism. Once this occurs, all parties are obligated to respect the relationships, rights, and obligations which obtain. In regard to your question this means any future Bishop coming into the diocese as pastor.

Your question also helps illuminate the importance of canonical standing (standing in law) for those called to it. In the case of diocesan hermits, the hermit does not, at least, have the insecurity of wondering if she will continue to be able to live her vocation freely or explore the frontiers of solitude in God as she has covenanted to do on behalf of others and in the name of the Church simply because the diocese is going to experience a change in personnel. There is plenty of insecurity in the diocesan eremitical life just as there is in any eremitical life, but this one particular bit is not an issue. The Church itself is bound to assist the hermit in this and bound in specific legal ways. Standing in law is not a bit of mere formality or icing on the eremitical cake; it sets up stable and lasting relationships which all involved are bound to observe for the good of the vocation generally, the person called to this vocation specifically, and the church herself.

What we must remember is that law is meant to serve love; it is also meant to provide freedom, because constraints can serve genuine freedom. In other words, canon law sets up a number of constraints for the diocesan hermit, but these tend to serve her well in freeing her to live a life of solitude without being concerned with explaining herself to those around her, or being threatened with the fear that perhaps she has mistaken how she is to participate either in the world around her or the life of the church. Law's obligations assist the hermit in living her life, not just moving through day by day wondering if she has yet discovered what that life is actually meant to be. It outlines and binds the hermit to a life of the evangelical counsels, to a Rule she herself writes and a Bishop officially decrees is acceptable for living this life, and to a number of other canons which apply to anyone with public vows, but the realm it sets up in doing so is one of life in God. While the parameters may function as constraints in one way, they are precisely the things which help the hermit to go deeper and to explore this particular country as freely and exhaustively as possible.

In a sense this is an outline of what monastic stability means. Monastics relinquish the right to simply go wherever the grass seems greener at the time in order to live as fully as possible with the grace of God right here in this place. Married persons do something of the same. They bind themselves to the constraints of a commitment to this other, this family, these specific needs, the potential and limitations of this series of relationships at this time and in this place so that they can live out this love as fully and exhaustively as possible in the way they feel called to by God --- something which must often be distinguished from what a person merely WANTS to do. It is the role of civil and canon law to protect this possibility. It is ironic that this freedom comes with the imposition of constraints, but that is always the way of true achievement and true freedom. Writers are bound to the constraints of language to produce something which is truly transcendent. Musicians are bound to the constraints and capacities of instruments, music notation, physical abilities of musicians, etc in order to do likewise. Canonical hermits have their call and response mediated by the Church and that mediation includes the establishment of parameters and constraints which free for genuine transcendence.

In any case, the answer to your question is no, diocesan hermits' vocations/vows are not in jeopardy merely because of changes in episcopal personnel precisely because the vows are public. The related canonical relationships are established with the Church as a whole but through the office of Bishop within a specific diocese. (Should the hermit desire to leave the diocese, she must receive approval from her own Bishop and the Bishop in the diocese she proposes to move to. The new Bishop must specifically agree and act to take on the rights and responsibilities of legitimate superior to the diocesan hermit and do so on behalf of his successors as well. He must agree to receive vows in his hands --- or the canonical or functional equivalent.) If a Bishop refused to do so and the hermit moved to this diocese anyway, the new Bishop would indeed be her Bishop, but he would not be her legitimate superior and she would not be a diocesan hermit (her vows would cease to be binding due to the substantial change in circumstances and could be formally dispensed by her former diocese). The two relationships (pastor vs legitimate superior) obviously differ in significant ways. 

To summarize then, the act of making vows in the hands of her Bishop binds both the hermit and the Church as a whole in a constellation of mutual rights and obligations which differ from those which obtain at Baptism. Together, serving one another in a legitimate (that is, legal) relationship, they free the hermit to live the life she is called to and help ensure the eremitical life itself continues to be a vital and integral part of the church's patrimony.

Reception vs Witnessing of Vows: Is there a Difference?

[[Sister Laurel,

What is the difference between private vows that are witnessed by a priest or even a Bishop, and vows that are received in the name of the Church by a priest or Bishop? I have heard someone with private vows say her vows were received by a priest. But were they?. . .]]

There are two ways of thinking and speaking about this. The first (and I would argue, the mistaken way) says all vows which are made to God in the presence of someone in the Church, usually a priest but sometimes a spiritual director, etc, are received but do not necessarily set up a legitimate relationship between the one receiving the vows and the one making them.  In such a case they may be private vows marking a private act of commitment or dedication and the person 'receiving' the vows does not become responsible in any way for the continued living out of these vows. The second and correct way of speaking reserves the use of the term received for those vows which are public, are received by a legitimate superior in the name of the Church, and result in public rights and obligations as well as establishing a legitimate relationship between the one making the vows and the one receiving them. For private vows which do not do this, the term witnessed is used instead.  Speaking in this second way distinguishes between receiving vows as a person acting in his/her own name because s/he does not have the intention or the authority to receive public vows in the name of the Church (which it calls witnessing these vows) and the act of one who has both the authority and the intent to receive these vows publicly in the name of the Church. In either case the real distinction is between private dedication and public profession and the shift in usage to the second way of speaking is meant to underscore this.

When one makes public vows one does so literally in the hands of a legitimate superior (a superior in law). This is reminiscent of the more ancient feudal oaths of fealty sworn by the subjects of Kings and other nobles in the hands of their superiors. The Lord/King received such an act of fealty and was bound himself by it. Such an act set up a mutual relations

In terms of public vows of religious/consecrated life, the act of profession/consecration sets up a similar relationship between the church in the person and office of a legitimate superior and the one making vows/being consecrated. Thus, for instance, the diocesan hermit has a right to certain expectations of her Bishop in assisting her to live out her vocation in the name of the Church, and the Bishop representing the Church as a whole has similar rights and expectations of the hermit. He commissions her to live out her vocation in the name of the Church. The reception of vows means that they are in this together: hermit and Bishop (and his successors) each with their own rights and obligations --- unless the relationship is substantially changed by the expiration, cessation (due to material changes in the situation) or the dispensation of vows. There is a mutuality of rights and obligations involved in reception of vows. In religious congregations individuals making public vows in the hands of a legitimate superior have the right to expect the superior (and his/her legitimate successors) to act in ways which nurture and protect the person/vocation, while the one making vows acquires rights and responsibilities she did not have before profession.

When vows are witnessed by priests, directors, or even Bishops, none of this occurs. One has committed a private act which is personally significant, but there is no explicit and mutual relationship set up in which both parties are responsible for the vocation being mediated, ratified, and lived out. Witnesses do not receive vows. Neither is there a correlative commissioning of the person to act in the name of the church. We see this kind of situation all the time in the execution of legal documents, etc. For instance, a person witnesses a will. In doing so they do not become part of a mutual relationship with regard to this will. They are not responsible in any way for the carrying out of the terms of the will because while they witness to the FACT of the will they are not a party to the actual legal arrangement being made. If the person executing the will never sees the witness again it is inconsequential to the nature of the document or the legal obligations which obtain. When a person makes public vows witnesses also sign the profession formula, but they do so as witnesses to the relationship and the rights and responsibilities entered into by individual and church in the act of profession. They do not themselves become part of the relationship or complex of mutual rights and obligations extended to or accepted by the one making her profession and the one in whose hands the profession was made.

By the way, it really does not matter if the witness is the Pope himself so long as he is not acting specifically and intentionally to receive these vows in the name of the Church and to enter into a relationship which both extends public rights and responsibilities to this person and accepts a legitimate place in the carrying out of these. But if the vows are private, then this intention (and often, the actual authority to act in this way) is absent. Conversely, if the intention and/or the authority to act in this way are absent, the vows are private. (An ordinary parish priest cannot receive public vows except when authorized to do so by a legitimate superior who may delegate this authority.) If the vows are public then this intention (and the authority to act in this way) are a part of the public nature of the vows themselves --- that is, these are part of what makes these vows public as opposed to private. Since the person you describe self-reported she made private vows, i.e., vows which were personally significant but issued in no legal rights or obligations beyond those already embraced in and mediated through Baptism and no differing legal relationship with her Bishop the second way of speaking would hold these vows were not received, but witnessed.
 

I hope this helps.

Choose Life, Only that and Always. . . (Reprised)

When I was a very young sister (actually, a postulant), I pasted the following quotation into the front of my Bible. It was written by another sister, and has been an important point of reference for me since then. It is the clarion call of Lent and we hear it tomorrow as the heart of our first reading:

Choose life, only that and always,

and at whatever risk. . .

to let life leak out, to let it wear away by the mere

passage of time,

to withhold giving it and spending it

is to choose

nothing. (Sister Helen Kelly)

The readings from today both deal with this theme, and each reminds us in its own way just how serious human life is --- and how truly perilous!! Both of them present our situation as one of life and death choices. There is nothing in the middle, no golden mean of accomodation, no place of neutrality in which we might take refuge -- or from which we can watch dispassionately without committing ourselves, no room for mediocrity (a middle way!) of any kind. On one hand lies genuine "success", on the other true failure. Both readings ask us to commit our whole selves to God in complete dependence or die. Both are clear that it is our very Selves that are at risk at every moment, but certainly at the present moment. And especially, both of them are concerned with responsive commitment of heart, mind, and body --- the "hearkening" we are each called to, and which the Scriptures calls "obedience."

The language of the Deuteronomist's sermon (Deut 30:15-20) is dramatic and uncompromising: [[ This day I set before you life and death, the blessing and the curse; therefore choose life, that you and your descendents shall live,. . . for if you turn away your hearts and will not listen. . .you will surely perish. . .]] Luke (Lk 9:22-25) recounts Jesus' language as equally dramatic and uncompromising: [[If you would be my disciples, then take up your cross daily (that is, take up the task of creating yourselves in complete cooperation with and responsiveness to God at every moment). . .If you seek to preserve your life [that is, if you choose self-preservation, if you refuse to risk to listen or to choose an ongoing responsiveness] you will lose it, but if you lose your life for my sake, you will save it. For what does it profit a person to gain the whole world and then lose or forfeit the very self s/he was created to be?]]

I think these readings set out the clear agenda of Lent, but more than that they set before us the agenda of our entire lives. Our lives are both task and challenge. We do not come into this world fully formed or even fully human. The process of creating the self we are called to be is what we are to be about, and it is a deadly serious business. What both readings try to convey, the OT with its emphasis on Law (God's Word) and keeping that Law, and the Gospel with its emphasis on following the obedient Christ by taking up our lives day by day in response to the will of God, is the fact that moment by moment our very selves are created ONLY in dialogue with God (and in him through others, etc). The Law of Moses is the outer symbol of the law written in our hearts, the dialogue and covenant with God that forms the very core of who we truly are as relational selves. The cross of Christ is the symbol of one who responded so exhaustively and definitively to the Word of God, that he can literally be said to have embodied or incarnated it in a unique way. It is this kind of incarnation or embodiment our very selves are meant to be. We accept this task, this challenge --- and this privilege, or we forfeit our very selves.

God is speaking us at every moment, if only we would chose to listen and accept this gift of self AS GIFT! At the same time, both readings know that the human person is what Thomas Keating calls, "A LISTENING". Our TOTAL BEING, he says, IS A LISTENING. (eyes, ears, mind, heart, and even body) Our entire self is meant to hear and respond to the Word of God as it comes to us through and in the whole of created reality. To the degree we fail in this, to the extent we avoid the choices of an attentive and committed life, an obedient life, we will fail to become the selves we are called to be.

The purpose of Lent and Lenten practices is to help us pare down all the extraneous noise that comes to us in so many ways, and become more sensitive and responsive to the Word of God spoken in our hearts, and mediated to us by the world around us through heart, mind, and body. We fast so that we might become aware of, and open to, what we truly hunger for --- and of course what genuinely nourishes us. We make prayers of lament and supplication not only so we can become aware of our own deepest pain and woundedness and the healing God's presence brings, but so we can become aware of the profound pain and woundedness of our world and those around us, and then reach out to help heal them. And we do penance so our hearts may be readied for prayer and made receptive to the selfhood God bestows there. In every case, Lenten practice is meant to help us listen carefully and deeply, to live deliberately and responsively, and to make conscious, compassionate choices for life.

It is clear that the Sister who wrote the quote I pasted into my Bible all those years ago had been meditating on today's readings (or at least the one from Deuteronomy)! I still resonate with that quote. It still belongs at the front of my Bible eventhough the ink has bled through the contact paper protecting it, and the letters are fuzzy with age. Still, in light of today's readings I would change it slightly: to let life leak out, to let it wear away by the mere passage of time, to refuse to receive it anew moment by moment as God's gift, to withhold giving it and spending it is to refuse authentic selfhood and to choose death instead.

Let us pray then that we each might be motivated and empowered to chose life, always and everywhere --- and at whatever risk or cost. God offers this to us and to our world at every moment --- if only we will ready ourselves in him, listen, and respond as we are called to!

Feast of St Peter Damian, Reprised

Tomorrow is the feast of the Camaldolese Saint, Cardinal, and Doctor of the Church, St Peter Damian. Peter Damian is generally best known for his role in the Gregorian Reform. He fought Simony and worked tirelessly for the welfare of the church as a whole. Hermits know him best for a few of his letters, but especially #28, "Dominus Vobiscum". Written to Leo of Sitria, letter #28 explores the relation of the hermit to the whole church and speaks of a solitary as an ecclesiola, or little church. Damian had been asked if it was proper to recite lines like "The Lord Be With you" when the hermit was the only one present at liturgy. The result was this letter which explains how the church is wholly present in all of her members, both together and individually. He writes:

[[The Church of Christ is united in all her parts by the bond of love, so that she is both one in many members and mystically whole in each member. And so we see that the entire universal Church is correctly called the one and only bride of Christ, while each chosen soul, by virtue of the sacramental mysteries, is considered fully the Church. . . .From all the aforementioned it is clear that, because the whole Church canbe found in one individual person and the Church itself is called a virgin, Holy Church is both one in all its members and complete in each of them. It is truly simple among many through the unity of faith and multiple in each individual through the bond of love and various charismatic gifts, because all are from one and all are one.]]

Because of this unity Damian notes that he sees no harm in a hermit alone in cell saying things which are said by the gathered Church. In this reflection Damian establishes the communal nature of the solitary vocation and forever condemns the notion that hermits are isolated persons. In the latter part of the letter Damian praises the eremitical life and writes an extended encomium on the nature of the cell. The images he uses are numerous and diverse; they clearly reflect extended time spent in solitude and his own awareness of all the ways the hermitage or cell have functioned in his own life and those of other hermits. Furnace, kiln, battlefield, storehouse, workshop, arena of spiritual combat, fort and defensive edifice, [place assisting the] death of vices and kindling of virtues, Jacob's ladder, golden road, etc --- all are touched on here.

Rule of Life Questions; 24 year old Hermits?

[[Sister Laurel,
I am 24 yo and have lived in solitude for less than a year although I work outside several days a week to support myself. I would like to write a Rule of life for my diocese who might be open to professing me. What should I include?]]

Thanks for your questions. To answer your direct question, I would suggest you look for posts here under the labels related to a Rule of Life. You will find a couple of posts which treat the kinds of things any Rule should contain if a diocese is 1) to discern clearly that you are called to this life, 2) to see that you have the requisite experience which will admit you to public vows, and 3) to be able to pass on (approve) what you have written canonically (by far the easiest of the three)! The posts list not only the areas a Rule should usually include to be complete, but point to the kinds of knowledge and experience one must have to write a livable Rule and be faithful to it. They should help you to achieve a balance between a Rule that is overly detailed and does not inspire, and one which is insufficiently detailed and idealistic but for that very reason not really helpful in concrete ways when one is struggling with the day to day living of the vocation. Even so, the real key to such balance is experience of actually living full time in solitude.

But let me take this in a different direction as well --- because I don't want to encourage you unduly in this venture and even less in the notion that a diocese will admit you to profession if you simply write a Rule, I have to say upfront that I do not know a diocese that would profess as a diocesan hermit someone of your age or degree of life-experience. As I have noted recently, some commentators reflecting on canon 603 vocations suggest that 30 years of age is the absolute minimum age for profession (temporary) under canon 603. This is not a canonical requirement but is one of the things which needs to be determined prudentially. Most regard this vocation as a "second half of life" vocation, and I completely agree except in cases with serious extenuating circumstances. (Examples would be situations where the person is somehow isolated by circumstances, have NO control over those and, a la Jung, have achieved a rare maturity because of them. Chronic illness is the one situation that can work this way that is best known to me.) The related problem you face is one I suggested in the last paragraph: namely, your own experience of solitude may not yet allow you the experience or knowledge (both of self and of the eremitical life) to write a livable Rule of Life much less keep it faithfully or grow in it. Bishops I know believe that 5 years living in solitude prior to temporary profession is also an absolute minimum for a diocesan hermit and this means that one must live the life for some time before being experienced enough to write a Rule which is livable. I tend to agree with this as well.

Consider what would happen if a person entered a community of religious women, were given the congregation's constitutions, a Bible, a brochure of the life these Sisters live, and then was left to her own devices for the next six months. Then, with that limited contact with the congregation's life behind them, the congregation asks her to write a Rule of life which reflected her experience of religious life, of the charism of this congregation, the place of prayer, work, ministry, etc. The person being asked to do this would be at a serious disadvantage, wouldn't she? Consider another analogy: you enter a community and live the life for a year. They ask you to write a Rule and suggest that when that is complete they might be open to professing you as a Sister of ___ for the rest of your life. Is it a prudent decision on their part? Is any part of the way they are treating you prudent? Loving? Careful or full of care for you, for the life of the congregation, or the vocation you MAY one day represent? I would say it is not.

While the axiom "remain in your cell and your cell will teach you everything" is profoundly true in the eremitical life, even the earliest Christian hermits had mentors with whom they lived and from whom they learned. We don't have many resources to provide such mentoring and our culture is vastly different from that of the desert Fathers and Mothers. This means that the diocesan or, better, the solitary eremitical life is even rarer now than it ever was --- and rightly so. Instead, as I have written here before, young persons desiring to explore an eremitical vocation do better to enter a community which stresses solitude, allows for the formation (personal, social, and spiritual) which can usually be gained only in community (or society), and allows one to truly discern with others whether one is called to be a hermit or not.

The one question I must ask you (and I suspect anyone in formation work with your diocese will feel similarly compelled) is "Why?" Why do you want to be a hermit, and why a diocesan hermit at your age? Why are you not exploring congregations if you are interested in solitude and a vowed life? Why do you feel solitude is the right context for living your life? What causes you to say this despite recognizing that solitude is a very uncommon way to human wholeness and holiness? Please don't get me wrong; I love solitude and the life I am called to, but I would never have even considered it at your age! There was too much to learn, and explore, and do at that point --- and too much growing to do in all kinds of ways, even if I didn't always realize that clearly. Of course this doesn't make you wrong and me right, but it does indicate the kinds of questions ANY person with experience in vocation work will want to hear the answers to from you if you approach them about this. You see, not only is solitude ordinarily not the way we come to human wholeness, it is also usually a transitional state --- one which indicates limitations and unfulfilled potentials as well but does so on the way to something else. Anyone looking at you as a candidate will wonder why you feel particularly called to this and will recognize the importance of community in helping form you for solitude as well as in discerning such a vocation.

Since eremitical life is associated with a number of stereotypes (hermits as escapists, social failures, misanthropists, selfish and self-centered persons, eccentrics and lunatics, among others) vocation personnel must be sure they are not professing any one of these --- or anyone with strong strands of these running through them! Further, stereotypes notwithstanding, life in solitude is simply not a "normal" life and, as already noted, eremitism is a very rare vocation. Dioceses with no experience of professing hermits will rightly look for the best qualifications they can find, the strongest and most healthy candidates in order to explore the vocation in their dioceses --- and they may put off people (and rightly so) until they are sure they are not acting precipitously in professing them even temporarily. Those with experience might well be open to professing a somewhat broader range of candidates, but they will also know what age and experience requirements MUST be adhered to generally. Especially, it will need to be clear that they are not doing you (or the vocation of the solitary hermit itself) an injustice in professing you to a life vocation which is rarely the way to human wholeness or holiness.

So, a few more questions I would want to ask you --- not because I expect answers to them, but which I hope you will seriously consider and work through with your director perhaps: If someone else your age came to you and said they wanted to become a diocesan hermit, what questions would you want answered? Realizing the answer may well be "no", are you willing to live as a lay hermit for the next 7-10+ years (that is until you are 31-34+ years old and have lived as a solitary for some time) until your diocese is clear that they should or should not profess you? If not, why not? What deficiencies in your own formation for any form of consecrated life are you aware of and how will you remedy these? (Here I am thinking of the demands in human maturation which anyone your age needs to negotiate to live a disciplined, productive, compassionate, and gospel-centered life.) What deficiencies have you already worked to remedy and how did you become aware of them? How about deficiencies which make waiting for 7-10+ years without a certain answer very difficult or impossible?

More, what personal strengths does solitary life allow you to live well and how have you come to that conclusion? Are there better contexts for living these gifts? Do any of the stereotypes I mentioned earlier apply to you in ANY way whatsoever? How will you remedy this? Is there any reason to think that solitude for you is something which is (or should be) transitional? How do any of these questions tie in to writing a Rule of Life? If you are unsure about how to write a Rule or what should be included, why do you think that is? If you have read the posts I put up which refer to areas which should be included, are there any which you feel unequal to writing about? How will you remedy the situation and how long do you think it might reasonably take?

I expect you found many of these questions, especially when taken as a group, overwhelming and impossible to answer. The reason is many of them take age and experience to be able to answer and clarity about all of them certainly does. Most of them require working with a spiritual director for some time to discover or work out the answers to. Many can only be answered by extended time in solitude, reflection, and serious prayer. While I don't mean to discourage you unduly, I do want you and others to understand why this vocation is often a second half of life vocation and why younger persons approaching eremitical life via eremitical communities is a better approach for everyone involved. I do wish you well and hope you will write occasionally to let me know how things are going. All my best.

How does the Silence of Solitude involve God?

[[Hi Sister Laurel,

I am glad to see you posting. I missed your posts. Probably you have said this already, but when I read that the silence of solitude is the charism of diocesan eremitical life I don't see God in it. Can you explain this to me?]]

Sure, let me try and let me be really brief. Ordinarily solitude is thought of as being alone, being physically alone, and little more. That is one legitimate meaning of the term and it applies to hermits, but it also stops short of being the solitude to which a hermit is called. One of the reasons I refer often to eremitical solitude is because it is not a matter of just being physically alone, but rather being alone with and in God. This means as well that one is profoundly related to all else that is related to God, and in fact, that one lives her life for them as well. But this kind of solitude is not automatic. It requires a continuing practice of prayer, silence, physical solitude, kenosis (self-emptying), and commitment to that foundational relationship with love-in-act which makes us each human. It also implies commitments to community (for instance to the parish community which is one's primary community, or to the handful of good friends with whom one really shares her daily life) because it is a reality stemming from and leading to love. At bottom, eremitical solitude is communal or "dialogical" because it always means communion or dialogue with God who is the source, ground, and very paradigm of solitude.

Similarly, silence is ordinarily thought to be the absence of sound --- and today, merely a relative absence of noise since our culture's way of covering or distracting us from noise is to add more sound to the mix! But silence is multidimensional and more than just the absence of sound. If you have ever sat in church next to someone who is making no sound but is jiggling their legs, you know this. If you have ever walked into a quiet room of people waiting for you to speak and felt terrified or anxious, you know it. If you have ever been lying in the dark before sleep and felt driven to the kitchen by a desire for chocolate, compelled by thoughts which are obsessive, or struck with a terrible feeling of emptiness or failure, you know that silence is not merely the absence of sound. Instead it has to do with being at peace, with being comfortable with who one is in God, with not having to prove oneself and with letting what comes come in its own time. (I have to remind everyone including myself that this "silence of solitude" is a goal of eremitical life and its realization only comes over time, even when it is present in degrees throughout that life.)

So, the silence of solitude is the silence, and better, the quies which results from being alone in and with God. It refers to the life of wholeness and security of one who knows how profoundly loved she is and who is able to live within and from that love for the sake of others. It involves physical silence, of course, but it is much more and richer than that. What is at its root is God and one's relationship with God and all those whom God holds as precious. It does not exist otherwise.

I hope this helps.

Jesus Raises me up to service in and for "the silence of solitude"

I was struck differently today by the healing of Peter's Mother-in-Law than I have been in the past. In the past I was probably a little put out that Peter's MIL was healed only to immediately be raised up to serve. But today the story was a terrific joy to me for I understand the two movements of this Mother in Law's story differently than I once might have. After all, the ability to serve one's God, one's church, other people in the community, and one's family is a joy --- especially after a time of not being able to do so due to illness. There is no doubt that for one who has suffered the oppression of illness, whether chronic or acute and knows the apparent inability to be the person they have been gifted to be because of it that the simple image of Jesus taking Peter's MIL by the hand, raising her up to a new life where she is free to give back, to share, to participate in communal life again is a powerful symbol.

In the past two months I have been struggling to write (actually writing is always a struggle for me!). Not only do I have a book I have been working on slowly for some time now, but I have a couple of articles which I need to get published due to some urgency. These articles focus on the "silence of solitude" as the interpretive key to canon 603 --- and that means it is the key to the discernment of a diocesan eremitical vocation, to living the life well in dialogue with the modern world and the desert and hesychastic traditions, as well for Chancery personnel at every level who assist in the discernment process, and supervise those living the vocation in their dioceses. These people need to understand the difference between pious lone individuals and hermits; they also need something which anchors canon 603 in the desert and hesychastic traditions, and can signal when it is appropriate to expect a hermit candidate to be able to write a livable Rule of life --- as well as what to look for in such a Rule which signals an authentic vocation. The silence of solitude is the single element of the canon which serves in these ways. Finally, and most importantly, I think, it is the interpretive Key to the canon because it is the charism or gift which this vocation is to church and world and as such, serves as the depth dimension of the other elements in the canon which establishes them as essentially eremitical --- including the often-neglected central and non-negotiable element: "for the praise of God and the salvation of the world."

While only some of this is truly new to me the project is important to me because I came to it through my own long struggle with chronic illness which involved my move from attempts to validate my isolation to the actual redemption of that and its transfiguration into genuine solitude. It came to me through an experience of solitude which allowed me to understand the peace, the hesychia or quies which it involves when my own life was transformed from a scream of anguish into a song of silent joy. It came to me through a prayer experience in which celibacy was transformed from a negative experience (I would never be a mother, never be a wife, etc) into a form of love where I was completed as a woman by Christ's own love for me. It was that same experience in which solitude was transformed from a synonym for separation and apartness to a symbol of belonging at the heart of reality in dialogue with God. When I reflected on all of those who were isolated in our world and anguished that their lives were meaningless, it was genuine solitude in and with God that was the word of hope I concluded they needed to hear. Moreover, it came to me as I examined the occasional instances of the misapplication and failure to adequately esteem the gift/charism of canon 603 by a few Bishops and others over the past 28 years which trivialized the vocation and allowed professions which made it incredible. All of these events and others, especially perpetual profession as a diocesan hermit more than 4 years ago now and all that has involved, led me to understand first hand what canon 603 calls, "the silence of solitude."

At Christmas time when we were hearing all the stories of women in the OT and NT who had come from barrenness to fruitfulness, sometimes through the birth of a child, sometimes through a word only they could speak, I had reason to identify with those women because I looked at years of a life marked and marred by chronic illness which were relatively barren and I had come to a place where I understood this dimension of canon 603 life clearly. I therefore also had been given a word of grace to speak from out of my own relative barrenness, and more, from out of its redemption when indeed Jesus extended a hand to me and lifted me up to a wholeness and to the word which made sense out of my entire life. That word is, "the silence of solitude." This word points to that place in each of us where human brokenness and Divine holiness and healing come together and we become truly whole and still. It is the state of union which stands irrevocably at the root of our being and which we are called to allow to pervade every moment and mood of our lives. For hermits, it is the loving reality they wish above all to allow their lives to witness to.

We are blessed when our lives comes together in a way which allows them to be summed up in such a simple but rich symbol. We are even more blessed when that symbol can serve to lift up others and transform their lives as well. So, while the writing has been difficult despite all I have blogged about this topic in the past several years, I recognize that the term "the silence of solitude" reflects the hand Jesus reached out to me to lift me up and the spirit with which he healed me precisely so that I could serve my church and world as a whole and contemplative individual --- indeed, as an authentic hermit. After all, it is so very painful not to be able to give back, not to be able to share what is deepest in oneself, and certainly, not to have a unique word of your own to speak to those in similar situations.

So, yes, I heard today's Gospel rather differently than I have in the past and I am grateful for Jesus' tenderness in "lifting me up" to new and incredibly meaningful life. But I am also grateful to Peter's MIL who reminds us all of the joy of service which flows from being lifted up in such a way. After all, as we also are reminded, "My word shall not return to me void!" My own life is one of learning to trust that promise --- just as the pre-Christmas stories and today's Gospel also invite us all to.

Followup to "Eremitical Life sans Monastic Formation?"

[[Thank you very much for your response. . . .You are right when you say that it would be dishonest to join a community in order to someday leave it to be a diocesan hermit; that being said there are now communities that are open to the hermit vocation (i.e. Trappists and some Benedictine communities). Do you feel that there is a difference between the eremitical life lived by say a Trappist on the grounds of his/her community and that of a diocesan hermit? If so, what do you think would be the difference? I'm thinking there would be a huge convergance between the two ways of life, but perhaps the need to support oneself for the diocesan hermit would put a different spin on the life. I would also imagine that a hermit who belongs to a religious order would also be deeply influenced by the charism of their community more than a diocesan hermit who would unattached to a particular contemplative charism.]]

Great questions! While I believe there are great similarities between any authentic form of eremitical life I do think there are some significant differences between the diocesan or c 603 vocation and that of someone living as a hermit though part of a congregation like the Carmelites or Carthusians or Cistercians.

I have written about this a fair bit here so let me just outline some of the differences at this point. The fact that a c 603 hermit is self-supporting and part of a parish definitely changes the nature of the vocation and allows it to be a gift to people who find themselves isolated and questioning the meaning of their lives. It allows eremitical life to speak to such persons in ways someone living within a monastic base with its inherent security, regularity, freedom from many everyday chores and concerns, and its well-established regard will never do. C 603 hermits living solitude in urban and suburban contexts witness to the possibility of the transfiguration of isolation into true and meaningful solitude, and they do so without withdrawing into a monastery but rather with the same support provided any person by a parish community. They achieve human individuation which contrasts vividly with the individualism of the world which actually discounts their lives --- and they say that others living in the midst of the world can do the same with the grace of God. I think this is the real charism of diocesan eremitical life; in the canon it is best described as "the silence of solitude" lived "for the praise of God and the salvation of the world" and is therefore something our world desperately needs.

Another huge difference of course is that the diocesan hermit has, as her primary community, her parish. I mentioned this implicitly just above. The hermit lives and prays in its midst. She worships there and serves in whatever ways suits her life. She allows her life to touch those of others in the parish as would rarely happen with a monastery or hermitage of a number of hermits, and of course those others touch her life as well --- sometimes quite profoundly. For me personally this tends to lead to an emphasis on the dialogical or communal dimension of solitude which has its origin in the relationship with God a person actually is. This exists for every hermit, but I think it is drawn out in sharper relief for the diocesan hermit.

As for the spirituality attached to particular congregations, most (or at least many!) diocesan hermits do affiliate in some way with a particular form of this even if it is not official. They are still professed as diocesan and may not (i.e., are not allowed to) make vows in another way but they may affiliate more casually with a particular tradition. I am an oblate with the Camaldolese, for instance, and thus, this imparts a particular flavor and set of values to my own embodiment of the eremitical life which differs from that of another diocesan hermit --- someone with a Franciscan spirit for instance. On the other hand diocesan hermits are free to try on various spiritualities to find which serves them and both their charism and mission best. For me Trappist also seems to fit my life very well as does a lot of Eastern (Christian) spirituality. The difference is that I am diocesan and therefore primarily live the charism of that life even if I do so with the assistance of the Camaldolese triple good (community, solitude, evangelism or witness), for instance.

Eremitical Life sans Monastic Formation?

[[Dear Sister, I had a quick question regarding the hermit vocation and discernment. From what I have read, the monastic tradition often sees the hermit vocation as the ultimate expression of monastic life. In his Rule, St. Benedict holds the hermit life in the highest regard. However, he was very clear that such a vocation should be under taken only after years of formation and testing in the monastic community. This seems to be very prudent advice as the hermit life can be very difficult.

As such, isn’t it imprudent that many people today are interested in becoming diocesan hermits without the formation and testing that a proper monastic formation affords? I am having great difficulty understanding how one could discern a calling to the hermit life without being properly formed in the basics of monasticism. I would welcome your insights on how one discerns a vocation to the solitary life without the benefit of living the monastic life in the midst of a monastic community. Even under the guidance of a good priest and the support of a bishop, few in a diocese would understand the monastic life in its deepest sense. As such, few would be able to guide a person living as a hermit.

Could it not be argued that people who want to live the hermit life without the proper formation and testing are at great risk for spiritual self-deception? Could it not be argued that there is real risk of “throwing someone into the deep end of the pool” before they are prepared? Would be fair to say that someone who wants to skip living in a monastery MIGHT be displaying a type of pridefullness and individualism that is contrary to the monastic vocation? Would it not be better for one to join a contemplative order first (even one with hermits…like the Carmelite Hermits in Texas or Carthusians) so that they can be properly supported in their calling? I would appreciate your insights. Thank you.]]

Hi there,
your questions are good ones and essentially right on. Yes, it is dangerous in the ways you say and others as well. Still, while it is important that individuals have all the formation they can get before entering into solitude, and while it is important that we generally treat diocesan eremitical life as a second-half-of-life vocation, there are cases where the solitary eremitical life is a good one for individuals who are younger (one document on c 603 suggests 30 years of age is the very bottom limit for admission even to temporary vows) or have not had the benefit of a monastic formation. However, these are very rare, and so, one thing chanceries need to keep in mind is the rarity of the vocation, both relatively and absolutely.

Even so, it remains true that such persons must somehow get solid foundations in prayer, theology, spirituality, etc, and be good at self-discipline and taking initiative before they are accepted for even temporary profession as a diocesan hermit. Extended stays in a monastery during the period of initial discernment could be VERY helpful here and I personally suggest it should be required of aspirants to diocesan eremitical life without a background in religious or monastic life. This is true because most people today have very little sense of living in silence or solitude (much less the silence OF solitude demanded by canon 603), and they also need an extended period of living a daily horarium that is balanced between prayer, work, study, and lectio. All of this assists discernment and formation both.

One of the things I have written about recently is the fact that our culture is highly individualistic, even narcissistic, and the upsurge in interest in eremitical life is often an expression of this rather than a true call to the generous and other-centered life which is authentically eremitical. There are good spiritual directors who may not be monastics but can wisely direct individuals moving towards eremitical life, and equally, there are directors who are not well-equipped. It is not usually a matter of whether they are monastic but instead whether they are competent directors or not. A director (one skilled at listening) familiar with contemplative prayer and a balanced approach to life, along with a sense that God is found in the ordinary activities of life, and indeed, in the heart of one's own being, is far more important than that the director be a priest or monastic, I think.

Also problematical is the fact that relatively few Bishops, Vicars, or vocation directors really understand the eremitical life and therefore sometimes treat it as merely equivalent to a pious person who lives alone. It is, you can imagine, a good deal more and other than this. (cf post from Dec 9, 2011) While there are many stereotypes of the eremitical life that influence chanceries, this particular misunderstanding is more prevalent and widespread. It is a main contributor to the failure of aspirants who mistakenly think they are called to eremitical solitude. Unfortunately, in such cases, it is not quite the same as "being thrown into the deep end" because in such cases such aspirants never actually reach the deep end. They paddle about in the shallows and think this is eremitical life. The result is an implicit disparagement of this life which makes it both trivial and incredible.

I regularly recommend that younger persons who think they may be interested in eremitical life enter a community which is semi-eremitical not only for proper formation, but for the needed life experience and mutual discernment necessary. It seems completely unfair and imprudent to me to do otherwise. The life is simply too difficult for someone who has little life experience, training, education, etc. However, I do not recommend that anyone do this with the idea that one day they will become a diocesan hermit. The two vocations are different from one another and one does not make vows (especially that of monastic stability) within a community with the idea that one day one will leave it. That would make the vow invalid and be a betrayal of its very meaning.

I hope this is helpful.

Feast of the Conversion of Paul (Reprise)

Today is the feast of the Conversion of St Paul, and my own feastday as well. We know Paul's story well. A good Jew, indeed, a scholar of the Law who saw the early Church as a distortion and danger to orthodoxy; he was one who understood that a crucified person was godless and shameful and could in no way be a faithful Jew or prophet, much less God's anointed one, persecuted the Church in the name of orthodoxy and for the glory of God. In sincere faithfulness to the covenant Paul hounded men, women and children, many of whom were his own neighbors. He sent them to prison and thence to their deaths. He, at least technically And according to Luke's version of things), colluded in the stoning of Stephen and sought to wipe Christians from the face of the earth.

While on a campaign to Damascus to root out and destroy more "apostates" Paul had a dramatic vision and heard someone call out to him, "Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?" Paul inquired who this voice was and was told, "I am Jesus whom you persecuteth." In that moment everything Paul knew, believed, and practiced, was turned upside down. God had vindicated the One whom Paul knew to be godless acording to the Law. He was alive rather than eternally dead, risen through the power of God as the Christians had claimed. For Paul nothing would ever be the same again. So it is with conversions.


Perhaps it is a matter of faulty perception on my part, and if so, I apologize, but it seems to me that conversion is not something most Catholics regard as pertinent to their lives. Conversion is something non-Catholics do when they become Catholics (or vice versa!). It is a onetime event that those "born into the faith" don't (it is thought) need to worry about! Those "born Catholic" may think in terms of "growing in their faith" or "becoming a better Catholic" (and there is certainly nothing wrong with thinking this way!) but "conversion" (metanoia) seems to be a word that is simply little-used for these processes. Somehow (perhaps because of the story of Paul!) conversion is too dramatic and messy a process it seems. It disrupts and is marked by difficult and abrupt discontinuities and conflicts or tensions. It demands a spiritual praxis which sets one apart from the norm, a prayer life which is central, engagement with the Word of God which is profound and more extensive than usual -- not minimal or nominal, and a faith life which does not tolerate compartmentalization. Growth, becoming, etc, are safer words --- demanding, yes, but somehow less total and more socially acceptable than references to "conversion."

In monastic life, and especially in Benedictine monastic life the primary vow is to conversion of life. This vow includes those ordinarily made in religious life, the vows of poverty and chastity. One commits oneself to continually allow God to remake one into the image of Christ (and into one's truest self). There is a sense that such conversion is a gradual and lifelong process of growth and maturation, yes, but there is also an openness to conversion as dramatic and all-consuming. Here conversion is something which does not allow monastics to divide their lives into sacred and profane or to compartmentalize them into the spiritual and the non-spiritual. Here the Word of God is expected and allowed to convict, challenge, transform, and empower. Here the Spirit of God is accepted as the spirit which moves within us enlivening, edifying, consolidating, and purifying --- the Spirit which humanizes and sanctifies us into the covenant reality we are most truly. It is a pattern which should be true of every Christian.

Paul's initial conversion experience was dramatic by any standards, but drama aside, it did for Paul what encounter and engagement with the Word of God is meant to do to any of us. It caused him to see his entire world and life in terms of the risen and Crucified Christ. It put law completely at the service of love and made compassion the way to accomplish justice. It made human weakness the counterpart of divine strength, mercy and forgiveness the way God's will is accomplished, and in every other way turned the values of this world on their head. May each of us open ourselves to the kind of conversion of life we celebrate today.

Benedict XVI on Silence and Word: Path to Evangelization

Well, it is unusual for me to post complete texts by others, even if they are the Pope, but Benedict XVI's message on the relationship of Silence and Word and their place in evangelization is right down this blog's alley! Enjoy!!

MESSAGE OF HIS HOLINESS
POPE BENEDICT XVI
FOR THE 46th WORLD COMMUNICATIONS DAY

Silence and Word: Path of Evangelization

[Sunday, 20 May 2012]

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

As we draw near to World Communications Day 2012, I would like to share with you some reflections concerning an aspect of the human process of communication which, despite its importance, is often overlooked and which, at the present time, it would seem especially necessary to recall. It concerns the relationship between silence and word: two aspects of communication which need to be kept in balance, to alternate and to be integrated with one another if authentic dialogue and deep closeness between people are to be achieved. When word and silence become mutually exclusive, communication breaks down, either because it gives rise to confusion or because, on the contrary, it creates an atmosphere of coldness; when they complement one another, however, communication acquires value and meaning.

Silence is an integral element of communication; in its absence, words rich in content cannot exist. In silence, we are better able to listen to and understand ourselves; ideas come to birth and acquire depth; we understand with greater clarity what it is we want to say and what we expect from others; and we choose how to express ourselves. By remaining silent we allow the other person to speak, to express him or herself; and we avoid being tied simply to our own words and ideas without them being adequately tested. In this way, space is created for mutual listening, and deeper human relationships become possible. It is often in silence, for example, that we observe the most authentic communication taking place between people who are in love: gestures, facial expressions and body language are signs by which they reveal themselves to each other. Joy, anxiety, and suffering can all be communicated in silence – indeed it provides them with a particularly powerful mode of expression. Silence, then, gives rise to even more active communication, requiring sensitivity and a capacity to listen that often makes manifest the true measure and nature of the relationships involved. When messages and information are plentiful, silence becomes essential if we are to distinguish what is important from what is insignificant or secondary. Deeper reflection helps us to discover the links between events that at first sight seem unconnected, to make evaluations, to analyze messages; this makes it possible to share thoughtful and relevant opinions, giving rise to an authentic body of shared knowledge. For this to happen, it is necessary to develop an appropriate environment, a kind of ‘eco-system’ that maintains a just equilibrium between silence, words, images and sounds.

The process of communication nowadays is largely fuelled by questions in search of answers. Search engines and social networks have become the starting point of communication for many people who are seeking advice, ideas, information and answers. In our time, the internet is becoming ever more a forum for questions and answers – indeed, people today are frequently bombarded with answers to questions they have never asked and to needs of which they were unaware. If we are to recognize and focus upon the truly important questions, then silence is a precious commodity that enables us to exercise proper discernment in the face of the surcharge of stimuli and data that we receive. Amid the complexity and diversity of the world of communications, however, many people find themselves confronted with the ultimate questions of human existence: Who am I? What can I know? What ought I to do? What may I hope? It is important to affirm those who ask these questions, and to open up the possibility of a profound dialogue, by means of words and interchange, but also through the call to silent reflection, something that is often more eloquent than a hasty answer and permits seekers to reach into the depths of their being and open themselves to the path towards knowledge that God has inscribed in human hearts.

Ultimately, this constant flow of questions demonstrates the restlessness of human beings, ceaselessly searching for truths, of greater or lesser import, that can offer meaning and hope to their lives. Men and women cannot rest content with a superficial and unquestioning exchange of skeptical opinions and experiences of life – all of us are in search of truth and we share this profound yearning today more than ever: “When people exchange information, they are already sharing themselves, their view of the world, their hopes, their ideals” (Message for the 2011 World Day of Communications).

Attention should be paid to the various types of websites, applications and social networks which can help people today to find time for reflection and authentic questioning, as well as making space for silence and occasions for prayer, meditation or sharing of the word of God. In concise phrases, often no longer than a verse from the Bible, profound thoughts can be communicated, as long as those taking part in the conversation do not neglect to cultivate their own inner lives. It is hardly surprising that different religious traditions consider solitude and silence as privileged states which help people to rediscover themselves and that Truth which gives meaning to all things. The God of biblical revelation speaks also without words: “As the Cross of Christ demonstrates, God also speaks by his silence. The silence of God, the experience of the distance of the almighty Father, is a decisive stage in the earthly journey of the Son of God, the incarnate Word …. God’s silence prolongs his earlier words. In these moments of darkness, he speaks through the mystery of his silence” (Verbum Domini, 21). The eloquence of God’s love, lived to the point of the supreme gift, speaks in the silence of the Cross. After Christ’s death there is a great silence over the earth, and on Holy Saturday, when “the King sleeps and God slept in the flesh and raised up those who were sleeping from the ages” (cf. Office of Readings, Holy Saturday), God’s voice resounds, filled with love for humanity.

If God speaks to us even in silence, we in turn discover in silence the possibility of speaking with God and about God. “We need that silence which becomes contemplation, which introduces us into God’s silence and brings us to the point where the Word, the redeeming Word, is born” (Homily, Eucharistic Celebration with Members of the International Theological Commission, 6 October 2006). In speaking of God’s grandeur, our language will always prove inadequate and must make space for silent contemplation. Out of such contemplation springs forth, with all its inner power, the urgent sense of mission, the compelling obligation “to communicate that which we have seen and heard” so that all may be in communion with God (1 Jn 1:3). Silent contemplation immerses us in the source of that Love who directs us towards our neighbours so that we may feel their suffering and offer them the light of Christ, his message of life and his saving gift of the fullness of love.

In silent contemplation, then, the eternal Word, through whom the world was created, becomes ever more powerfully present and we become aware of the plan of salvation that God is accomplishing throughout our history by word and deed. As the Second Vatican Council reminds us, divine revelation is fulfilled by “deeds and words having an inner unity: the deeds wrought by God in the history of salvation manifest and confirm the teaching and realities signified by the words, while the words proclaim the deeds and clarify the mystery contained in them” (Dei Verbum, 2). This plan of salvation culminates in the person of Jesus of Nazareth, the mediator and the fullness of all revelation. He has made known to us the true face of God the Father and by his Cross and Resurrection has brought us from the slavery of sin and death to the freedom of the children of God. The fundamental question of the meaning of human existence finds in the mystery of Christ an answer capable of bringing peace to the restless human heart. The Church’s mission springs from this mystery; and it is this mystery which impels Christians to become heralds of hope and salvation, witnesses of that love which promotes human dignity and builds justice and peace.

Word and silence: learning to communicate is learning to listen and contemplate as well as speak. This is especially important for those engaged in the task of evangelization: both silence and word are essential elements, integral to the Church’s work of communication for the sake of a renewed proclamation of Christ in today’s world. To Mary, whose silence “listens to the Word and causes it to blossom” (Private Prayer at the Holy House, Loreto, 1 September 2007), I entrust all the work of evangelization which the Church undertakes through the means of social communication.

From the Vatican, 24 January 2012, Feast of Saint Francis de Sales.

BENEDICTUS XVI

© Copyright 2012 - Libreria Editrice Vaticana

We are People of the Cross

I received a notice of a new book by Joan Chittester today. It began with the following quotation: [[Christians are not people of the cross. Christians are people of the empty tomb who know that every step on the way to light is Light.]]

Now, I greatly respect Sister Joan Chittester's work and life. I also think I understand what she is trying to say here; had she not said, "Christians are not people of the cross," I would simply agree with her comment and move on. But the assertion that Christians are not people of the Cross is wrong. Just as one does not have a sound theology of the cross without resurrection, neither does one have a sound theology of resurrection without the continuing presence of and focus on the cross. As Paul once rightly said, "I want to know Christ crucified and only Christ crucified."

There is an approach to Jesus' death and resurrection which divides the two events and treats resurrection as the undoing of what happened on the cross. It as though the cross was ONLY some sort of tragedy and not also revelatory of God and authentic human existence. What I have written here before is a second approach to the cross. It says that resurrection makes eternally valid what was revealed on the cross and that is something we must always bear in mind. Unfortunately, despite the fact that this is only a partial quote, Sister Joan's bald statement makes me think she has missed this basic point. Ours is assuredly a God which darkness cannot overcome, and one who regularly transforms darkness into light. We know this because darkness has indeed been transfigured in our own lives. Even so, as yet unredeemed darkness is also real in our world.

Therefore we are people of the cross; it is simply that we are people of the paradoxical cross of triumph as well as that of tragedy. We are people of the cross because it is the cross which reveals who we are in light of sin: we are the ones who, if our own autonomy or honor is threatened, will do whatever we can to destroy life, castigate innocence, and profane the sacred. We are people of the cross because the cross reveals that authentic humanity depends totally on God, even in the face of the worst injustice, shame, and horror we might experience. The cross makes this kind of humanity real in space and time, and baptism initiates us into THIS particular death and the new life it revealed (made known and real). But we are also people of the cross because it is the cross that reveals (again, makes known and real) the fact that our God is one who enters into the deepest, darkest, most godless places in our lives and world; he is a God who refuses to allow anything separate us from him.

Had the crucifixion remained the last word, it is true that we would not be people of the cross. But the empty tomb allows the cross to say that death did not and will never have the last word. Still, it is precisely for this reason that we cannot allow the cross to simply fade into the past as a terrible accident or a tragedy which God corrected and expunged with resurrection. In light of the resurrection the cross is capable of revealing us to ourselves --- both the horrors we become under the sway of sin and the saints we become under the sway of grace. An empty tomb does not and cannot do this. The cross is similarly capable of saying that godless death does not have the last word; God's love does. An empty tomb may merely speak of the righteous (or the messianic!) and the fact that God rescues them from death. The cross, however, reveals not only that sin and godlessness are powerful realities, but that our God loves all of us in spite of our participation in these realities and died for us while we were yet sinful, godless people.

God forbid that we become pseudo Christians somehow subtly enamored with the horror, blood, criminality, torture, shame and suffering of the cross. Pseudo-mystical misery is not what we or the cross is about. Self-proclaimed and self-absorbed "Victim souls" who, it seems, cannot begin to imagine the real degree of suffering existing in the lives of their neighbors and who seem to believe the cross was ineffective in dealing with sin, may be "into" this kind of thing, but Christians are not. While it is possible to find instances of people even today offering to suffer so that God might save someone else from cancer or other serious illnesses, such a God and such bargaining with God is contrary to the revelation of the cross itself. The empty tomb certainly helps remind us we are not people of the cross in these distorted senses. Yet, the authentic cross is the symbol of a God who will not abandon us and instead will enter exhaustively into our lives and world to redeem and recreate them. In forgiveness and mercy his justice-creating love will bring life out of death, meaning out of meaninglessness, triumph out of tragedy, honor out of shame, and vindication out of failure. In this sense we are indeed people of the cross and therefore of the empty tomb.

Women and Spirit Exhibit comes to Sacramento, January 24th through June 3rd 2012

Honored by both the American Catholic History Association and the US House of Representatives (who honored the women this exhibit memorializes), Women and Spirit, the exhibit on the history of Catholic Sisters in the United States, is coming to Sacramento --- its last stop on a tour of regions of the US over the past three years. The exhibit opens the eve of the 24th January and remains until June 3rd. There will be a special concentration on Sisters in California in this particular incarnation of the exhibit. The website devoted to the exhibit reads, in part:

[["WOMEN & SPIRIT: Catholic Sisters in America" is a traveling exhibit sponsored by the Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR) in association with Cincinnati Museum Center. It reveals the mystery behind a small group of innovative American women who helped shape the nation’s social and cultural landscape.

Meet women who corresponded with President Thomas Jefferson, talked down bandits and roughnecks, lugged pianos into the wilderness, and provided the nation’s first health insurance to Midwestern loggers. Discover sisters’ courage during the Civil War, the Gold Rush, the San Francisco Earthquake, the Influenza Epidemic, the Civil Rights Movement, and Hurricane Katrina.]]

or again,

[["Women & Spirit" offers history museums across the country an opportunity to display artifacts and images that have rarely been seen by the general public. With a balanced approach that draws upon first-hand narratives, visitors will discover an untold story in American history.

The exhibit is fully-funded for a three-year tour and includes supporting education materials as well as retail items. A comprehensive sales and marketing program will boost attendance in each venue, drawing upon significant contacts within the Catholic community. Public programming opportunities include volunteer docents, film and speaker series.

From the time the Ursulines arrived in New Orleans in 1727 up to today, women religious have made an incalculable contribution to this nation. Running schools, hospitals and orphanages from America's earliest days, these women helped foster a culture of social service that has permeated our society. Over the centuries these courageous women overcame many obstacles--both physical and cultural--to bring their civilizing and caring influence to every corner of the country. Understanding and celebrating the history of women religious is essential to understanding and celebrating the history of America.]] Cokie Roberts, news analyst and author

The exhibit is touted not as a feminist or feminine exhibit, but a significant historical exhibit which anyone with an interest in American History should be enthralled by. Sponsored by the Leadership Conference of Women Religious, those unable to attend in person should consider buying a DVD of the exhibit. (Actually, I suspect a lot of us who ARE able to attend will do the same anyway!) The significant contributions made by women religious to the culture and history of the US is incredibly rich, and also incredibly underrepresented in history texts or common knowledge. At a time when we hear all too often about "Sisters in Crisis" or the supposed disintegration of religious life in the US, attention to the remarkable diversity, and rich intellectual and faith history through the past 225 + years can help us see clearly the courage, contemporaneity, and prophetic character of these women and the life they represented --- and of course, still represent!!

Personally, I am interested in seeing a bit more about the history of religious life during the late 1700's and early to mid 1800's. I had a great, great, great, great, great, . . . aunt (on my Mother's side of the family) who was a Sister of Loretto, not only in Kentucky (Motherhouse), but in a number of frontier missions. She taught German and music and was known for her fine singing voice. As a convert to Catholicism, I had been unaware of any Catholics at all for a number of generations; I heard about Sister (Isabella) for the first time about 14 years ago from a cousin I also had not known. I only just learned she was a musician about 3 years ago! It was astounding the kinship I immediately felt to her, and how important she became to me. To discover a pioneer like this on one's own family tree is a powerful experience --- especially in terms of religious life! After all, in my own admittedly humble way, I too am a pioneer of sorts with regard to canon 603 and contemporary eremitical life. (Of course, as Sister Simone Campbell, SSS reminds us, "Catholic Sisters are always pioneers. We don't set out to be pioneers. What we set out to do is to meet the needs that surround us.") Anyway, I hope to see a bit of Sister's personal world when I attend this exhibit; what it would be like to be a Sister on the US frontier in the 19th century is hard to imagine.

Congratulations to Father Robert Hale, OSB Camaldolese, new Prior

Congratulations are due Father Robert Hale. Dom Robert was elected to serve as the new Prior of the New Camaldoli Hermitage in Big Sur on January 20th. He will be installed on Wednesday, January 25th (Feast of the Conversion of St Paul). Dom Robert succeeds Father Raniero Hoffman in this role. He had also been Prior from 1988-1999 and was succeeded by Father Raniero in 2000. Fr Raniero chose not to stand for re-election at this time. Brother Bede Healey will serve as vice-prior. Unlike some congregations, the OSB Camaldolese do not have Abbots. For those oblates and friends of the hermitage who would like to attend the installation, you are welcome. Mass is at 11:00 am and there will be a simple lunch available afterwards.

Readers who would like an introduction to Dom Robert might take a look at his book, Love on a Mountain: The Chronicle Journal of a Camaldolese Monk. It provides a good look at the nature of this congregation and the way they live their lives. There is wisdom and wry humor, gentle criticism, astute insights on the roots of monastic life, and surprises all the way through for those whose notion of monks is rather stereotypical. However, what was most striking for me when I first read this book was how deeply rooted in Scripture is each day of these monks' lives, and how each life is one not merely of prayer, but is a kind of extended lectio. The lives of the Desert Fathers and Mothers is echoed throughout --- as well they should be! In an entry from this journal dated January 26th, Dom Robert cites Rilke. It is a passionate contemplative sentiment I (personally) believe he carries with him into Office:

Extinguish both my eyes: I see you still;
Slam about my ears: I can still hear you talking;
Without my mouth I can implore your will
And without feet towards you I keep walking.
Break off my arms: I shall still hold you tight;
My heart will yet embrace you all the same,
Suppress my heart: my brain knows no deterrent;
and if at last you set my brain aflame
I carry you still in my bloodstream's flow.

My gratitude to Father Raniero for his service over the past 12 years! Dom Raniero will spend some time travelling to various Camaldolese houses in India, Brazil, Tanzania, and Italy over the next six months. My own prayers are with Frs Robert, Raniero, Brother Bede and all of the Camaldolese family today and each day, but will especially accompany you on the 25th, the Feast of the Conversion of St Paul -- and my own feast day as well!

I'm BAAAAACCCK ---- at least almost!

Thanks to those who wrote asking if I was okay (or had abandoned my blog), etc! All is well; have no fear! I have been working on some of the ideas that have surfaced here over the past 5 years. The most important of these is "the silence of solitude as interpretive key to canon 603." As I have written here before, it is the silence of solitude which is not only the environment in which the hermit lives, it is the element of canon 603 which serves as the depth dimension of the other elements and establishes them as "eremitical," it constitutes the goal of the vocation, and finally, it is the gift or charism of solitary eremitical life to both church and world. So, I am spending time writing about all of that. However, I will try to get back to the blog as well in the next few days. (I have a concert this weekend so it will probably be after that!) Again, thanks to those who wrote.

National Vocation Awareness Week, January 9-14

National Vocation Awareness Week, January 9-14
Vocation awareness week
(Taken from the Blog of the Sisters of the Holy Family)

The Feast of the Baptism of the Lord marks Jesus’ initiation into public ministry. At his baptism Jesus is named the Beloved Son of God. With this celebration we recommit ourselves to follow in the footsteps of Jesus.Initiated through our baptism we too are commissioned to proclaim Good News with our lives. The observance of National Vocation Awareness Week (NVAW) began in 1976 when the National Conference of Catholic Bishops designated the 28th Sunday of the year as the beginning of NVAW. In 1997 this celebration was moved to coincide with the Feast of the Baptism of the Lord.The USA Council of Serra International promotes all Catholic Church vocations. This NVAW kit is designed to assist preachers, teachers, catechists, and other ministers. By fostering a culture of vocations, the Church is strengthened in its universal call to holiness. May this resource meet your particular needs and enhance your local celebration.

From the USCCB:

WASHINGTON—The Catholic Church in the United States will celebrate National Vocation Awareness Week (NVAW), January 9-14. The celebration heralds a week dedicated to promoting vocations to the priesthood, diaconate and consecrated life through prayer and education.

This distinctive week gives Catholics an opportunity to renew prayers and support for those who are considering one of these particular vocations.

“It is our responsibility to help children and young people develop a prayerful relationship with Jesus Christ so they will know their vocation,” said Archbishop Robert Carlson of St. Louis, chairman of the bishops’ Committee on Clergy, Consecrated Life and Vocations. “Through a culture of vocation in families, parishes, schools and dioceses Catholics can nurture an environment of discipleship, commitment to daily prayer, spiritual conversion, growth in virtue, participation in the sacraments, and service in community. Without this environment, promoting vocations becomes simply recruitment. We believe we have much more to offer our young people.”

People can visit the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops’ Facebook page (http://www.facebook.com/usccb) during the week to see examples of clergy and religious. They also can view reflections under the Vocation Retreat Tab where each day a scripture passage, reflection and prayer will be posted.Resources for promoting National Vocations Awareness Week, such as prayer cards, Holy Hour materials, prayers of the faithful and bulletin-ready quotes, are available on the USCCB vocations webpage at http://www.usccb.org/beliefs-and-teachings/vocations.

National Vocation Awareness Week began in 1976 when the U.S. bishops designated the 28th Sunday of the year for NVAW. In 1997, this celebration was moved to coincide with the Feast of the Baptism of the Lord, which falls on January 9 in 2012.

Feast of the Baptism Of Jesus (Reprised with More Tweaks)

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

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

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

I suspect that even at the end of the Christmas season we are still scandalized by the incarnation. We still stumble over the intelligibility of this baptism, and the propriety of it especially. Our inability to fathom Jesus' baptism, and our tendency to be shocked by it, just as JohnBp was probably shocked, says we are not comfortable, even now, with a God who enters exhaustively into our reality. We remain uncomfortable with a Jesus who is tempted like us in ALL THINGS, and matures into his identity as God's only begotten Son. We are puzzled by one who is holy as God is holy and, as the creed affirms, "true God from true God" and who, evenso, is consecrated to and by the one he calls Abba and to the service of his Kingdom and people. A God who comes to us in smallness, weakness, submission, and self-emptying is really not a God we are comfortable with --- despite three weeks of Christmas celebrations and reflections, and a prior four weeks of preparation -- is it? In fact, none of this was comfortable for early Christians either. They were embarrassed by Jesus' baptism by John --- as Matt's added explanation of the reasons for it in vv 14-15 indicate. They were concerned that perhaps it indicated Jesus inferiority to John the Baptist and they wondered if perhaps it meant that Jesus had sinned prior to his baptism. And perhaps this is as it should be. Perhaps the scandal attached signals to us we are getting this right theologically.

After all, today's feast tells us that Jesus' public ministry begins with a consecration and commissioning by God which is somewhat similar to our own baptismal consecration. The difference is that Jesus' accepts life under the sway of sin in his baptism. The story of his temptation or testing which follows underscores this acceptance. His public life begins with an event that prefigures his end as well. There is a real dying to self involved here, not because Jesus has a false self which must die -- as each of us has --- but because his life is placed completely at the disposal of his God, his Abba, in solidarity with us. Loving another, affirming the being of another in a way which subordinates one's own being to theirs --- putting one's own life at their disposal and surrendering all other life-possibilities always entails a death of sorts -- and a kind of rising to new life as well. The dynamics present on the cross are present here too -- complete and obedient (that is open and responsive) submission to the will of God, and an unfathomable subjection to that which sin makes necessary so that God's love may conquer precisely here as well.