Common Questions re the Hermit and Canon Law

The readings throughout this week are focused on the relationship of law and faith, works and grace. The essential point of Paul's arguments is that we are justified (made part of a covenant relationship with God) through faith (i.e., through trust in God who is both the gift and gift giver) rather than through works, especially works of the law. That is the point of today's lection and of tomorrow's where Abraham is said to have believed God (note it does not say Abraham believed in God!) and this was credited to him as righteousness (that is, as right standing in a covenant relationship with God).

The corollary to this fundamental truth is that only God can bring us into right relationship with himself and that once this occurs, we are made capable of truly good works. Justification precedes good works, but at the same time, once we are justified, once we exist in a covenant relationship with God, we WILL do good works --- not least because we ourselves will be an expression of what it means to be truly human; we will truly be God's good creation.

Common Questions about the Hermit and Law:

Regular readers will know that one question (and variations thereof) which I have been asked a number of times in various ways over the years is, Sister Laurel, how can you live with such dependence on canon law or on what you call "proper" law? If living as a hermit means depending entirely on God, then why do you need law at all? Isn't this contrary to the Gospel and Paul's teaching on Faith? Isn't this a typical Catholic error? Isn't dependence on law a source of sin or doesn't it inevitably lead to sin? I received such an email a couple of days ago which was ostensibly triggered by the week's readings from Romans.

Thus, it seems like a good time to reiterate Paul's arguments on the relation of law to grace not only in relation to any life at all, but particularly in the life of a canonical hermit. First of all a hermit believes God (as tomorrow's reading from Romans puts the matter of Abraham). That always comes first and last. It is the critical and foundational thing, the very reason for her vocation and the thing such a life alone with God witnesses to. Imagine a life given over to prayer and to becoming God's own prayer in our world if one does not first and last "believe God" and thus, trust in God's promises, will, plans, and future.

Imagine giving up one's dreams of service (in the Academy, the Church, the world at large) as well as the promise of worldly success, wealth, prestige, influence, and so forth, even to the extent of giving up friends, family, career, and the potential for marriage, childbearing and parenting, etc, if one was not first and foremost "believing God" and proclaiming the absolute sufficiency of the grace of God with one's solitary life. When confronted with the choice for eremitical solitude we must figure that one who does these things is either crazy or rightly trusts the God who brings life out of death and meaning out of meaninglessness with the whole of her life. Either she has betrayed her humanity with all its gifts and potentials, or she has trusted God and realized that same humanity in the most radical and paradoxical way. The first word in any authentic hermit's life is grace! The second is faith and the two are inextricably wed in a fulfilling relationship.

Only thereafter comes law whether that be civil, ecclesiastical and canon law, or the hermit's own proper law. Moreover law serves love, it does not replace it. When Paul spoke about the Law he spoke of it as a taskmaster and more importantly, a teacher. It was the job of the Law to show us what it looked like to live a covenant relationship with God. It served to some limited extent to protect people from influences which would destroy that covenant relationship or draw them into loving something more than God or in God's place. It codified what a reverent life looked like, what a life which recognized the presence of God in ordinary life demanded of us. The written Law pointed beyond itself to the law written on the heart, the law which was really supposed to be the norm and dynamic of our lives. And finally, the Law taught individuals the impossibility of "keeping the law" on one's own. Not only did it instruct us in the ways sin appeared in our lives, but it impelled us to recognize we could do nothing apart from or without the grace of God --- especially keeping the Law or living the Law written on our own hearts (the will, spirit, and call of Godself which resides there). In other words, the Law witnesses to the foundational place of the grace of God. It presupposes that grace and serves to invite us to be open to it when and in whatever way it comes to us.

Canon Law and Proper Law and the Consecrated Catholic Hermit:

The Catholic Church recognizes that canonical or consecrated hermits live from the grace of God first and foremost, just as any authentic hermit does. She recognizes that the call to be a hermit is an extraordinary grace in and of itself. She understands it, in part, as a mediated grace which comes to the individual not only directly but through the life (Word, Sacrament, People and Tradition) of the Church and speaks to her heart. She sees it as a gift which God gives not only to the individual called, but to the entire faith community. Moreover, as a gift entrusted to the Church this calling is understood as an expression of the Gospel she is called upon to proclaim to the entire world. For all of this to be true the Church has to discern such vocations along with the hermit; beyond discerning such vocations (something that requires a clear and normative understanding of what they are and how they are characterized), the Church has to provide ways of maintaining, nurturing, and governing them. She is responsible for this, for discerning their soundness, and for keeping the pulse of the spirituality characterizing them. Especially she is responsible for being sure some of the common "isms" of our modern world like individualism, narcissism, cocooning, isolationism, and antinomianism, etc are not allowed to replace or pretend at being authentic eremitical life.

In all of this the Church knows that law can serve grace. Law can serve love just as the Ten Commandments can serve the more primary love of God. Structure can define, govern, nurture and protect a vocation. More importantly, in a world where grace is mediated through temporal realities, law can establish stable relationships that help nurture and protect the hermit's life with God alone. Canon law serves in all of these ways. It defines a consecrated form of life which represents a normative vision of the eremitical calling. It defines the way such vocations are to be discerned, nurtured and governed. It makes sure that the freedom of eremitical life with God alone is not replaced by pretense or distortion. It provides for ongoing supervision and assistance, spiritual direction, and accountability. (There is no love without accountability nor authentic freedom either!) It helps make clear that the hermit within the Church, and especially the canonical hermit, is an important part of a living tradition which cannot be allowed to be lost sight of --- whether by the hermit or by her legitimate superiors!

In addition to accepting the place of canon law in her life the consecrated hermit reflects on and expresses the place of the Grace of God in her life by writing a Rule of life. In that Rule she incorporates her vision of the life, especially as her own individual life with God belongs to the greater vision of the Church; she builds in allowance for the various forms of prayer, silence, solitude, Scripture, study, lectio, recreation, sacrifice or penance, and (limited) ministry through which God is truly allowed to be sovereign in her life. The Rule will reflect her vows and the relationships which are central in assisting her to being truly accountable. It will mark the times she requires for retreat or other time away from the hermitage and in its own way it will codify all the external constraints which mark a life of inner freedom, a life where Grace is the primary gift and the thing to which the hermit witnesses in everything she is and does.

I am sure that objections about the place of law in my life (or in the life of any canonical hermit, and also, perhaps, in the life of the Church itself) will be raised again from time to time, whether we are reading through Romans at that point or not. What needs to be made clear is that the canonical hermit does not embrace law, nor write about law because she is a legalist. She does so because she recognizes that God has gifted her with a unique calling, one which is so precious, so vital, and also so fragile that it requires the assistance of others and the establishment of stable structures and relationships to be lived in a genuinely responsive and accountable way. She does so because to go it alone is to risk mistaking some other voice for that of God and thus, ensuring that the witness of her life is either lost entirely or rendered destructive, "disedifying". In this, as in the entire history of Law and Gospel, Law is presupposed by and anticipates Grace for its fulfillment. It serves Love-in-act and allows that love to be mediated to others in service.

Question and Variations:

Clearly I don't believe governing eremitical vocations with canon (universal Church) and proper law (the hermit's own Rule) is contrary to Paul's own teaching on Law and Gospel. I believe instead it reflects the wisdom of Paul's understanding and theology. Can it be misused? Of course. But when the hermit, her diocese, bishop, director, and delegate, are all dealing from a place where they are prayerfully seeking to hear the call and will of God, when, that is, they are attentive to the grace of God, law will serve love as it is meant to do. The alternative is to jettison law and allow a fragile vocation to succumb to the powers, and ideologies of a world fraught with caricatures and fraudulent versions of genuine individuality and freedom. Please see the labels below for other posts treating various versions of the questions raised here, especially for those stressing the way consecrated states of life require legitimate relationships which foster both stability and accountability.

Questions on "Diocese-Shopping"

[[Hello sister ! First, thank you for your blog, I'm learning a lot. I have a question. I read your tag "diocese-shopping", and while I understand it, I have a question. Let's imagine someone who grow up in a diocese (diocese A.), loves it very much, etc... Later, for work, he have no other choice than to move to another city, and another diocese (diocese B.). He's invested in diocese B. life, but when he began to discern an hermit life, he moves to diocese A. because he wants to be an hermit on his native diocese. Is it okay ? Basically, is it okay to change of diocese to discern (and live) an hermit life because you love this diocese dearly, want to be close to the people of this diocese, etc... ? ]]

Thanks for your question. If the situation is as you describe it I can't see anything wrong with doing this. I suspect diocese A would want to be clear about your motives and they would determine you had not been denied admission to profession in diocese B, but if they accepted you for a process of discernment it would be up to them.  I do admit to having a bit of an immediate sense that your language about dearly loving the diocese and its people seems a bit over the top to me. Still, I can completely understand feeling at home in a diocese, especially due to differing dominant languages and culture and wanting to serve the Church as part of that diocese; I think the chancery involved can also see that. (By the way, before you move you should probably ask someone in the chancery if this diocese is open to professing canon 603 vocations at all. Some are not while some have professed people in the past and then become more cautious in professing others.)

After relocating and before contacting the chancery to make an actual request of them in your own regard you would need time to establish yourself as a lay hermit, reestablish yourself in a parish, get a regular director (or continue with the one you are already working with), and find a way to support yourself. If you live as a lay hermit for at least two years then you might contact the chancery with your request to be considered for profession under canon 603. Even though you would be returning to the diocese you would still be looking at living in this way for five years or so before being seriously considered for admission to profession as a diocesan hermit.

I say this first because from my experience you will need to live eremitical solitude for at least this long before you can actually: 1) determine this is not a form of transitional solitude you are living, 2) discern the proper balance between solitude and life and ministry in (parish) community, 3) discern whether it would be better for you and for the Church at large that you live this vocation as a lay hermit, and 4) begin to prepare for canonical profession if you and your diocese eventually discern you are called to that. I also say this because dioceses I know have made 5 years the minimum number of years one must live a directed and supervised eremitical life before they will admit one to even temporary canonical vows. Note of course that even then there is no assurance you will be accepted for public profession, particularly perpetual profession at the end of process that can extend from 5-10 years. (It is true that if the diocese does not consider a person suitable they will not extend the process beyond several years and sometimes they will not admit to a process of serious mutual discernment at all.) I just want you to know there are no certainties in this, especially as you are considering moving.

However, your original question is about "diocese shopping" and as you have described the situation I don't think that would be an issue. My posts on this topic, as I think you gathered, have been in regard to folks who propose to move wherever a diocese has diocesan hermits once they have been denied either serious discernment with the diocese or admission to public profession. Sometimes one hears of folks who have traveled abroad to attempt to get an Abbot to profess them when they have been denied admission in their home dioceses. I think what has to be the bottom line is that one feels called to eremitical life, will live it either as a lay person or one consecrated to do so --- whatever the Church deems best --- and that, generally speaking, they only shift dioceses if the one they are now living in is not consecrating anyone as a diocesan hermit. Gyrovagues and Sarabaites have always been a problem in monastic life and they remain one in terms of canon 603 and eremitical life in the Church today.

It is Only With the Heart that One Sees Rightly

Recently a parishioner sent a postcard to the daily Mass folks. Buzz and his wife, Diana, are doing The Way (El Camino de Santiago) and are on their way to St James de Compostela. The postcard quoted St Exupery's Little Prince: "It is only with the heart that one sees rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye." Certainly on such a pilgrimage we come to see people in more profound ways than we do when we look at them superficially. In the best cases pilgrims begin to see one another in ways which make them more whole and takes delight in them --- warts and all. It reminded me of a reflection I did one Friday just two or three weeks ago regarding the beam in one person's eye and the splinter in another!

Also recently I read the story of someone who, as a result of some sort of 'private revelation', apparently "fled Mass in horror" because she had supposedly seen "through the masks" of people attending Mass, perhaps most especially the priest presiding there. She wrote of seeing various persons' flaws, seeing raw, unfiltered truth, and she is trying to make sense of this way of seeing that happens to her at Mass. In light of this deeply disturbing experience (for the person writing about it has written about also being profoundly troubled by it in the past) there is some monastic wisdom which is critical to keep in mind, namely, we only see a person truly when we see them as God sees them. Keeping this in mind will help us hear what is being said again and again in the Gospel readings throughout this whole week.

It is one thing to see a person's flaws. That is certainly part of the truth of who we each are. But it is not the deepest truth and it is the deepest truth which the grace of God empowers us to see and work towards.  The less profound "truth" we may also see can become literally diabolical, that is, it can divide, throw, or tear apart (diabolos comes from the Greek, dia for apart and balein, to throw). It divides the see-er from her own heart, it tears apart the one seen in this way by treating a part of them as the whole or most important truth, and it can result in ripping apart the community in which such things occur. Such truth is meant to be filtered, filtered through hearts that see as God sees, that love as God loves --- with a mercy that does justice, a love that makes whole. Otherwise, the result is true misery for all involved. In light of all this I wanted to repost this piece I put up several years ago:

It is Only With the Heart that We See Rightly.

In one of the best selling books of all time, The Little Prince, there is a dialogue between a fox and the Little Prince. It occurs over a period of time. The Fox begins by explaining about what it means to be "tamed,"  and he notes that it involves forming ties with others. He begs the Prince to "tame him" and over time (the prince agrees to "waste time" in this way!) the Little Prince does so while the Fox allows himself to be tamed; in other words the Prince works to become the Fox's friend and the Fox becomes his. As a result the most mundane parts of reality are also transformed. Golden fields of wheat which hold no interest for the Fox ordinarily (he eats only chickens!) now remind the Fox of his friend's golden hair and occasion joy. When the time comes for the Little Prince to leave the Fox is sad, and then he gives the Little Prince his most precious secret, a secret he says most men have forgotten: [[It is only with the heart that one sees rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.]]

In last Friday's Gospel story Jesus knows that there is more than one way of "seeing" and he equates one of these with a destructive blindness which will lead everyone into the pit together. He warns that an untrained person is apt to harm someone and needs to get proper training before trying to act as a teacher. And he reminds us via this story that we ourselves are often afflicted with a beam in our own eye but that we are equally often one who blindly criticizes and offers to extract a splinter from another's eye. We hear one of Jesus' most damning judgments as he says: "You hypocrite! Remove the wooden beam from your own eye first; then you will see clearly to remove the splinter from in your brother's eye!"

Jesus clearly understands several things; he knows what the fox reminds us most "men have forgotten": First, that seeing rightly (compassion) is something we do with our hearts and this requires a kind of training. It is the kind of training one does when, over time, one helps (trains) a child to grow in a certain way. It takes years to "train" a child's ability to stand upright, to help them become persons who love themselves and others, who are capable of giving themselves to the world in a way which makes it better, richer, more holy. It takes years to help a child become responsible for their own hearts as we ourselves are called to be responsible for our own hearts Our hearts are, as I have said here a number of times, the places where we meet and respond to God, but they are also those places within us where obstacles to this meeting reside; for this reason they need to be "trained"  (formed, healed, nurtured, strengthened, aided) to see rightly. The responsibility for forming our hearts, for taming them (what Christians call growing in holiness), is a lifelong process of being made capable of compassionate seeing by living with and from Christ.

Secondly then, he knew that the way our attention is avidly drawn to the splinter in another's eye SHOULD lead us to suspect the beam in our own; that is, we should suspect the real obstacles to accurate vision, to compassion, exist in our own hearts. They represent ways of seeing we have made our own whether they have come from our culture, from peer pressure, from our own needs, successes or failures, from the hurts of childhood, or wherever. Because of this I think Jesus understood very well that we ordinarily operate from habitual ways of seeing and behaving which are less than Christian; we operate from characteristic attitudes of the false self that serve as lenses which distort our own vision and prevent us from seeing rightly or compassionately with the heart. In terms of the Gospel, and the story of the Little Prince, they are the lenses which prevent us from making neighbors of those we meet or know, the lenses which prevent us from loving others, from letting others "tame us," and therefore from becoming friends.

 Two pieces of monastic truth:

Monastic life encapsulated Jesus' teaching in a number of ways, but there are two pieces which are especially important here. The first is the monastic teaching on what are called "the passions."  The passions are obstacles to humility, that is, they are barriers to recognizing and celebrating the truth about who we are in regard to God and others. Thus they are also obstacles to compassion, to seeing others with the same kind of loving truthfulness. They are most often the beams in our own eyes and hearts which cause us to overreact to the splinters in our brother's or sister's eyes. They are the symptoms of woundedness and disease in our own hearts which cause us to project onto others and fail to love them as we ought and as they deserve. As Roberta Bondi reminds us, "a passion has as its chief characteristics perversion of vision and the destruction of love." (To Love as God Loves)

Common passions we are all too familiar with include perfectionism, a kind of habitual irritation with someone or some situation, anger, envy, depression, apathy or sloth, gluttony (which often has more to do, Bondi points out, with requiring novelty than it does with eating), irritable or anxious restlessness, impatience, selfishness, etc. In each, if we consider their effects, we will notice these habitual ways of relating to ourselves and our world cause us to see reality in a distorted way (this is one of the reasons we think of seeing reality through the green haze of envy, the red film of anger, or the black wall of depression, and so forth). Further, they get in the way of being open to or nurturing the truth of others --- that is, they are obstacles to love.

Similarly they are destructive of sight and love because they cause us to transfer onto others our own flawed expectations, values, failings and woundedness.  We know this by its psychological term: projection. It is a serious disordering of our hearts and minds that Jesus apparently understood well; it is a result of our own brokenness and sinfulness, and it assures not only that the person being projected onto CANNOT be heard or seen for who they are, but also that the one doing the projecting becomes more and more locked into their own blindness and inability to love the other as neighbor. The wisdom of Jesus' admonition, "Remove the beam from your own eye before you attempt to remove the splinter from your brother's," as well as the appropriateness of his anger in calling others on their hypocrisy is profound.

The second piece of monastic wisdom here we should remember, and one which is closely related to the importance of dealing with these passions has to do with the nature of really seeing another truly. In our own time we are very used to acting as though we only know someone really well when we see their flaws. We approach people and things "critically," searching out their failings and weaknesses and when we have discovered them, we believe we have discovered their deepest truth. How often have we heard someone say something like: "I thought I knew him, but the other day, he acted to betray me. Now I really know who he is!"

But monastic wisdom is just the opposite of this notion of knowing. It is strikingly countercultural and counterintuitive. In monastic life we only really know someone when we see them as God sees them: precious, sacred, whole, and beautiful. We only see them rightly when we look past the flaws **to the deep or true person at the core. We only see them truly when we see them with the eyes and humility of love. As we were reminded by Saint-Exupery and as tomorrow's Gospel implies strongly, "It is only with the heart that one sees rightly," --- and only once we have removed those distorting lenses monks call passions, that is, only once we have removed the beams from our own eyes will we be able to do this!

** N.B., I do not mean looking past these flaws in the sense of ignoring them completely (it may or may not be loving to do so) but rather looking past them so they may be seen within the context of the deeper truth and relatedness to God as ground and source. These flaws are tragic but they are tragic precisely because of the deeper truth of every person. Secondly, we must see the deeper truth not only as reality but as the person's profoundest potential. Looking past the flaws means loving the person in a way which summons them to realize their potential by healing and transcending the flaws. Only seeing with the eyes of the heart make this possible.

On Stricter Separation From the World

[[Dear Sister Laurel, does the phrase "stricter separation from the world" mean something stricter than the Gospel counsel to be in the world but not of it? You write that it means separation from those things which are resistant to Christ but aren't all Christians called to this? Is the key word in this phrase, "stricter"?  To me the phrase sounds negative and kind of "world hating"; is the purpose a negative one --- like to keep one away from things that might contaminate one?]]

Thanks for the questions. I have written about some of this before under the label "Stricter Separation from the Word" but especially in the pieces on "spiritualizing stricter separation from the world" (cf On Spiritualizing Stricter Separation and More on Stricter Separation and The Purpose of Stricter Separation.  In each of those I think I make clear that the withdrawal or separation that hermits are called to differs from that of other Christians and also other Religious. The term stricter is therefore a key word, yes but perhaps not the key word. Still it does indicate a true withdrawal, not a merely spiritualized one like that incumbent on all Christians called to secular vocations (vocations in the ordinary world of economics, politics, power or influence, and relationships). It involves not just withdrawal from the things which are resistant to Christ, but also withdrawal even from many of the very good things of creation (both Divine and human)  most Christians find inspiring or sacramental.


There are negative reasons for stricter separation, yes, but in general it allows for a focused commitment to the search or quest for God and all that comes from such a quest. A second positive reason is that it allows us to see the larger world of creation with new eyes, eyes that can recognize the truly sacred and hearts that can honor that. A third is that it allows us to see ourselves apart from all the hype, all the definitions and props supplied by the world around us. The separation that seems so negative serves more positive goals. So, while it is important to draw away from the perspectives which distort a truly Christian view of reality, and while it is especially important to draw away from those things which eventually affect our commitment to Christ and may lead to outright sin --- which I guess might be spoken of in terms of keeping away from things that contaminate --- the more important reason is entirely positive: namely, to seek God and to find our truest selves at the same time. Again, please check the articles linked above.

[[Are diocesan hermits considered cloistered? ]]

Great question. I don't think I have been asked this before. I have referred to the diocesan hermit living a kind of functional enclosure; by this I meant that even the hermit who allows clients or occasional visitors in the hermitage tend to have a private prayer space which is not really open to others. I also meant, however, that there is a wider sense of being separated from others, from certain activities, kinds of media, and so forth which create an enclosed space that functions like the material enclosure of a monastery with its wall, grills or signs marking cloister or saying, "private" along with the restrictions written into the community's statutes. Some speak of cloister in terms of papal cloister or other forms of formal cloister marked and governed by canon and proper law, etc. In these senses diocesan hermit have not ordinarily been considered to be cloistered.

However, at this point I think we have to say that diocesan hermits are called, by the very terms of canon 603, to a form of cloister or enclosure. I say this because both stricter separation from the world and the physical silence of the life mark off very real dimensions of enclosure. Silence, for instance, has always been seen as the more personal level of enclosure within the physical (material) cloister marked by walls and grills. Similarly, I am reminded of a comment by Dom Jean LeClercq ** which noted that enclosure could be ensured not only by wall and grill, but by a simple row of stones used by someone like Charles de Foucauld or "even by a simple agreement". There is no doubt that canon 603 calls for stricter separation from the world, assiduous prayer and penance, and the silence of solitude all lived according to an approved Rule under the supervision of the diocesan Bishop. This certainly sounds like a form of enclosure or cloister to me, especially given the fact that it is governed by approved proper law (the hermit's Rule) and overseen by legitimate superiors.

Of course this is not strict or papal enclosure. As in institutes of religious life who, according to c 667.1, are required to adopt cloister to the character and mission of the institute, a canonical hermit is both obliged to enclosure and free to discern the degree of time and activity outside the hermitage which is required by daily needs (doctor's appointments, shopping, Mass, etc.), though one does so within the limits and values codified in one's Rule and sometimes in collaboration with one's director or delegate. One does not usually need specific permission to leave the hermitage nor to have occasional visitors as guests. Still, the pattern of these mitigations or exceptions will be examined and discussed with one's delegate, and perhaps one's bishop, to see how well they contribute to or detract from the hermit's need for and commitment to silence, solitude, privacy, etc., as well as providing for necessary community and hospitality. I think we have to think of the diocesan hermit as bound by a form of cloister or enclosure whether we call it "functional", "eremitical," and so forth. Whatever we choose to call it we need to see it is both recognizable and real; it is also, to the degree specified in the hermit's proper law and c. 667, a juridical matter.

** LeClercq, Jean, Contemplative Life, "Separation From the World" Cistercian Studies 19, p 35

On the Validity of Defining Solitude in terms of Community

[[Dear Sister, if you define solitude in terms of communion with God I can understand that but I am not sure how you move from there to communion with others. I am having a hard time seeing the difference between life in solitude then and life in community. If both are communal then what is the difference? Why don't you just say that the eremitical vocation is about being alone with God?]]

Good questions, thanks for these. Remember that I (and most of the theologians I know) define God not as A Being but as the ground and source of all being and meaning, and therefore too, the ground and source of all that is truly personal and of all relatedness. In, with and through God, we are related to everything and everyone else. If we live in communion with God then to some extent we are in communion with the rest of reality. And of course this works the other way around -- though not in the same way. If we love others, honor creation, are stewards of reality, we also love and honor God.

Thus, when I think about eremitical solitude and especially, when I think about the difference between eremitical life and isolated, alienated, or estranged life the difference is in relatedness in and through God. To describe this I talk about the communal dimension of life in the silence of solitude. Still, this does not make my life one of cenobitical or community life since from 85-95% of my life is spent in solitude. Moreover, the time I spend with others is either in direct service to them (spiritual direction) or in order that I might live a richer and completely healthy solitude (occasional time with good friends). For a Trappistine Sister living, working, eating, praying, and recreating with others --- though often silently --- there are also periods of solitude: silent prayer, lectio, study, etc, but the context for everything is life in (and for) community and the search for God that community makes possible.

I don't speak about eremitical solitude ONLY as being alone with God for a couple of reasons. First my experience is that even (and perhaps especially) in the most profound prayer experiences I have had --- those where there was an undoubted union with God in a way which even involved typical physical effects, either others were present supporting me and/or there were reminders in my prayer itself  of the fact that in God I was related to all others and all else. (I have noted before that in one prayer period I experienced having the entire attention of God and the moment I noted that --- with a kind of awed "This is so but how can this be so?" --- I was reassured that everyone else ALSO had God's entire attention; no one was being shortchanged or disregarded here.) It was another of those great paradoxes that underscored the truth of the experience. While I was not really aware of others per se, I was aware of them in a general sense through their relationship with God. In other words, at those times I was most completely taken up in God I was also clearly concerned with and reassured about others. I was aware of them more than at other times, in part because God, who never ceased being wholly or exhaustively concerned with each and all of us, directed my attention there as a consequence of his immeasurable love.

The second reason has to do with canon 603 itself. It describes this vocation as one of stricter withdrawal or separation from "the world" (i.e., from that which is resistant to Christ), the silence of solitude, the evangelical counsels, assiduous prayer and penance under a rule I write and the supervision of my Bishop. But it also says this vocation is one undertaken for the praise of God and the salvation of the world. By definition, I do not live it merely alone with God but for the sake of all those God holds as precious. So far as I can see this essential element of the canon is no less important or central than any other element. It implies and perhaps demands that my life is not merely absorbed in God as a life of personal piety, but that it is also is concerned with witnessing to some basic truths every person needs to hear and know. It is also, then, a life of prayer for others --- though I consider this secondary to the witness it offers. (Some hermits clearly consider this primary instead of secondary and are entirely free to do so.)

 Moreover, canon 603 says that to the extent my life is absorbed in God it will necessarily be concerned with all God calls his own. While I am certainly concerned with my own salvation, eremitical life is not simply a solitary quest for my own salvation, my own perfection. It is not some form of pious navel gazing or self-centeredness. The focus in not on me but on God and allowing God to be God, not only for myself, but for the whole of creation. Thus, while on one level I can speak of the eremitical vocation being one of being alone with God I think generally this is misleading to others, whether they be other candidates, Bishops and Vicars for Religious, or simply those looking into what a contemporary vocation to eremitical life is all about in the face of a culture taken up with individualism or given over to "cocooning". For all these reasons I have tried to be careful to define eremitical life as one of "being alone with God for the sake of others." Now I may need to say instead that it is "being alone with God in communion with as well as for the sake of others." If any of these elements is missing, then we don't have authentic eremitical life as the Church defines it. We do not have the silence of solitude but instead a life of dumb isolation and individualism.



Artist, Mary Southard, CSJ

In either solitude or community the aim of religious life (or of the lay eremitical life) is the same, namely, to seek and give ourselves over to God for God's own sake (for this is God's deepest desire) and for the sake of the perfection or fulfillment of God's entire creation. But the contexts are different. In my hermitage I mainly do this while physically alone and linked to others through my relationship with God. In community Sisters or nuns mainly do this while physically together and more directly dependent on the environment created by others to facilitate every Sister's quest for God. There is a communal dimension to my solitude (or that of any authentic hermit) but physical solitude is primary. For cenobites there is naturally a strong solitary dimension to their life in community but the context of community is still primary or definitive of the life they live.

An Empty House is a Vulnerable House (Reprise with tweaks)

Tomorrow's Gospel includes the small pericope about the house cleansed of a demon and then left vacant. The overall context is somewhat different than when I first wrote the following piece [we are not reading through Galatians this year] and I am hoping to put up something more completely relevant to tomorrow's reading from Joel and the responsorial psalm. (These focus on the need for repentance and the justice God does by loving us.) But until then. . .here is the post I put up three years ago.

The pericope of the house exorcised of a single demon from [tomorrow's] Gospel passage by Luke provides some real spiritual wisdom. It also serves to illustrate Paul's own concern in what he is is writing to the Church in Galatia and is especially meaningful when read within the context provided by Paul's letter to the Galatians. Remember, the passage from Luke speaks of clearing a single demon from a house; the demon then wanders around arid spaces looking for a place to inhabit. Eventually it returns to the original dwelling and finds it all swept clean and in order, but yet uninhabited. The demon thus  goes out to find seven more demons and they all move into the now clean and orderly but empty house.

The first part of the context for hearing this Gospel passage is provided by Paul's own theology and is summarized by the first lection: namely, the Law, a Divine gift,  functions as a curse apart from Christ. It provides rules on the way we are required to be and persist in being but it cannot empower us to do what it requires. The law instructs us regarding what is truly human, it can convict us of sin and point clearly to the demons which occupy our own divided hearts  but it cannot actually bring about Communion with God. The Law is important, especially as a schoolmaster preparing us for adult life in faith, but it cannot be thought to replace faith.

The second part of the context is provided by Luke's theology itself. A major theme of the Gospel is hospitality. Luke is concerned not only with our call to provide hospitality to strangers of whom we make neighbors, but with providing hospitality for God in our world, and further, with becoming ourselves God's own guests dwelling within the Kingdom of God's own sovereignty. In  the stories we heard this week from Luke's Gospel hospitality figures largely, and so does law to some extent. On Monday we heard the story of Mary and Martha, both offering hospitality to Jesus. Martha adopts a kind of legal maximization and busies herself going beyond the strict requirements of the Law (to provide a single dish for the guest) and  in the process, avoids actually providing the guest what he most desires --- her own hearkening (obedient) company. Mary, on the other hand, sits down at Jesus' feet and "hearkens" to him. What Martha seems to do is something Paul associates with the "curse of the law,"  namely she assumes that if x is required, 5 times x will be even better.

On Wednesday we heard the Lord's Prayer, which itself is about being taught to pray and thus 1) coming to allow God a place where he may be powerfully present in our world, and 2) becoming participants in the Kingdom of Divine Sovereignty where all dwell in communion with God and one another. What the pericope makes clear is that Law has NOT taught the disciples how to pray. Only Jesus (God's own empowering presence) can do this. On Thursday, there was the story of the importuning guest banging on his neighbor's door for bread to feed an unexpected guest. It is unclear whether or not all in this story eventually act as the Law requires them to act (the entire village is responsible for hospitality) but one can hardly praise the attitude of heart or spirit of hospitality demonstrated by (or lacking in!) the man who was sought out to supply the bread, for instance!

And [tomorrow we will hear] the story of Jewish leaders who are concerned with the Law and presumably keep it faithfully as God's gift, but who refuse to receive Jesus as God's own definitive presence in their lives and world. They even accuse Jesus of acting by the power of Beelzebul to cast out demons. Jesus confronts them with their inconsistency by asking what power it is by which they themselves exorcise demons; he then tells today's parable of the demon exorcised from the house with the house then being left uninhabited and vulnerable.

Probably very few of us are legalists in the strict sense, but how many of us tidy up our own hearts in a kind of spiritual housekeeping and fail to give those same hearts over to God to fully occupy? How many of us are intrigued by techniques and tools, workshops, etc, but resist actual prayer, that is, the giving of our lives over to [the active and dynamic presence of God?] I suspect this is a far more common problem in Christian living than legalism per se. Law of all sorts assists us in dealing with the demons which inhabit our own hearts: those of covetousness, greed, dishonor, dishonesty, anger, and so forth, but we have to go further and allow God to be powerfully present in whatever way he wishes. We have to allow our hearts to truly become Temples of the Holy Spirit. After all we are not called merely to be respectable (neat, clean, orderly, well looked after, with the right structure, facade, and all the right appointments), but to be Holy --- a new Creation, in fact. That means not merely being occupied WITH God or the concerns of his Law, but being occupied BY God in a way which transforms our hearts into God's own home.

Despite the humor present in Luke's picture of the returning demons the image is serious. [It reminds me of a commercial I once saw where a family of mucus blobs took up residence in a person's chest; that was somewhat humorous until one realized how sick and miserable such a sufferer would be.] We have all seen houses that were abandoned, and especially we have seen houses owners fixed up but left unoccupied; they become dens for animals, nests for squatters of all sorts, dump sites for lazy neighbors, sources for scavengers and thieves  drug houses, and so forth. In short, they are made unfit for human (or Divine) habitation. So too with our own hearts. Law helps us clean them of all those things mentioned above, and more. But Luke's Gospel also reminds us that God in Christ stands at the door and knocks. Unceasingly.

If we don't REALLY allow him to make himself fully at home, if we allow our hearts to be less than wholly hospitable to a God who desires [to share] an exhaustive Communion with us, then other and worse demons will replace the demons already exorcised: those of ingratitude, self-righteousness, complacency, fear, works-righteousness, arrogance, pride, and so forth. Houses are made to be inhabited and so is the human heart; an empty house is dangerous and vulnerable and so is an empty [ultimately uncommitted] human heart ---no matter how orderly and respectable. Law helps us ready our hearts for Communion with God, but at some point we really do have to allow God to move in as fully as He desires and take complete "ownership".

Eremitism as a Vocation that Belongs to the Church: Sources of this Position

 [[Hi Sister! Thanks for your recent posts on reclusion and the relatedness that is part of that vocation. I read your post on Sunday obligations for hermits last year (I think it was last yea) so I realized that reclusion is more dependent on others than we often think but there was something new in the idea that the recluse reflects the interrelatedness of all of creation. I think you were also clearer about the idea that such a vocation "belongs to the Church", not to the individual. Can I ask what the sources of your ideas on this are? Your emphasis on community is so strong that sometimes I have to remind myself you are speaking about eremitical solitude or even reclusion. Does this come from your reflection on canon 603?]]

Thank you for the question and the observations. If there is greater clarity about the idea that vocations to eremitical solitude and even to reclusion "belong to the Church" and not to the individual, it is because I am coming to greater clarity myself. I spoke recently of the spiral movement of thought -- you know, where the same points come up but each time a bit closer to the center and deeper as well. I think this is mainly something similar. When I first got some clarity on the nature of  ecclesial vocations (about 20 years ago) I knew I had come to a realization that would change a great deal in my own perceptions and understanding. I had no idea I would be exploring the meaning of the term in one way and another for the rest of my life! And yet, this is precisely what has happened --- and I think will continue as a focus for my own reflection.

(By the way, I should note here that in this post I use the term ecclesial vocation in two senses. The first is general, less usual, and means any vocation that "belongs" to the Church, is an expression of Church, or necessarily serves the Church and the world through the Church. The second sense refers to "ecclesial vocations" in the proper sense of the term. This usage is much more specific and besides everything just mentioned refers to those vocations which are mutually discerned by the individual and Church leaders and are mediated juridically by the Church in rites of profession, consecration, and ordination. Ecclesial vocations in the proper sense are governed by canons beyond those associated with the lay state of life. They are public vocations, not private ones and involve public commitments and commissioning, not private vows or the lack of specific commissioning. Consequently, they result in necessary rights, obligations, and expectations on the part of the whole Church, and often the public at large. I have ordinarily only spoken of ecclesial vocations in this proper sense.)

Something similar to what I experienced with regard to the notion of ecclesial vocations happened 40 years ago with the work of theologians Gerhard Ebeling and Ernst Fuchs and the notion of the human being as a "language event" --- which ties in here because this idea too stresses the interrelatedness of all life and the embedded nature of all vocations; people come to be in being addressed and called to be by others. They come to be in responding to these words and in addressing others. They are mutually responsible in these and other ways. Thomas Keating, as I have noted here before, calls human beings "a listening". Scripture speaks of the Christ Event, the fullest revelation of both God and Mankind as incarnate Word. Ecclesia (the Greek word for Church) is the reality of those called together to witness to the Word. Because of the theology of "language events" I came to see more clearly that none of these things exist in isolation; they cannot. It is not their nature. In any case I am coming to greater clarity regarding the profound relatedness of eremitical solitude and the vocation to reclusion myself so there is little surprise that it shows up here on this blog.

Your question is about the source of all this and I think there are five main 'streams': 1) theology (both systematic and historical theology including reflection on canon 603 and its history), 2) personal experience (including ongoing reflection on living canon 603), 3) sociology, 4) science (especially in regard to contemporary physics and biology), and 5) an increased sense of the prevalence of stereotypes and distortions of the truth. Not to worry, I am not going to list all of these in detail, but I do want you to see that each of these areas provides a kind of stream that feeds my own posts here. Sometimes I will focus on the theology involved, sometimes, on the counter cultural nature of the vocation, sometimes on the stereotypes I have encountered or the distortions of the eremitical vocation as the Church understands it, and so forth, but whichever the focus for the moment the other streams are also prevalent and feeding my thought.

A little more about canon 603:

You ask specifically about reflection on canon 603 and here I have to say that is a really great and terrifically perceptive question. You see, the one place where all the other bits come together, the one reality which combines all of these streams or threads is precisely canon 603 itself so it makes sense that it would become a kind of structural or formal center which demands a person eventually look at all these dimensions. Canon 603 is a norm for the solitary eremitical vocation in the Church. It is a bit of codified (normative) wisdom which is theologically compelling, culturally challenging, open to the findings of the behavioral sciences, and immensely respectful of the needs and experience of both the believing community and the person called to live this vocation in the name of that community.

Up until now I have said that this canon is an amazing blend of non-negotiable elements and flexibility. I hope I have conveyed that it is an amazing combination of formal structure and charismatic energy. (How often can we say a church law is an inspired gift of the Holy Spirit? I don't know -- I am no canonist! Neither am I generally tempted to approach canon law in this way but I definitely believe it is true in this case.) In any event, yes, more often than not it is my reflection on canon 603 that has been the source of insight into the eremitical vocation. At the same time that is because this canon is sort of lens which both reveals and reflects all these other streams and sources in a coherent illuminating and life giving beam.

For that reason my own experience and theological reflection, along with the lives and theological (or canonical) reflection of others illuminates this canon so that its depths and hidden contours, colors, and capacity can be more readily appreciated. If instead we see it only as a constraining norm, a law which is merely superficial or extraneous to the vocation it defines and governs, or if we treat it as a legalistic imposition which supposedly stifles the eremitical vocation, we will have failed to appreciate the nature and function of the canon itself and probably the vocation it codifies.

Personal sources, Theology:

I don't want to go into the theology involved at any length here since I think it is something I write about all the time. It is true that because I am a systematic theologian I look for the deep connections and theological underpinnings of a reality. That is just natural for me. With regard to the eremitical vocation and the call to solitude, both creation (where God is meant to be sovereign) and ecclesiology (the theology of Church) itself are foundational here. We talk of the Church as the Body of Christ and of this body having many members, all important, all necessary, all interrelated. It is hard to believe that God would call people to eremitical solitude or even to reclusion (as you say) if it meant truly being cut off from the Body of Christ in some significant way.

While it is true the relatedness between hermit and community is sometimes obscure there is no doubt it is real and critical --- just as so many of the life processes of the human body are hidden but real and critical nonetheless. This dimension is foundational and must be protected. Paul's theology of the charisms of the Holy Spirit and the way they serve and complete one another is also foundational here. We do not have people speaking in tongues without those God inspires as interpreters. We do not have individuals called to symbolize the Church at prayer without them being integrally related to that same Church. Meanwhile, as important as individual salvation and perfection might be the ministry handed onto the Church by God through the Christ Event is the "ministry of reconciliation". Through this ministry all people but also all of creation is to be brought to perfection (maturity and fullness) so that God is all in all. In all of this eremitical life is a gift of the Spirit to the Church and it is up to the Church to mediate God's call to those who live this vocation in the name of the Church. Of course Lay hermits too participate in the Church's ministry of reconciliation in this paradoxical vocation --- though as hermits they do do so in what might be called "ecclesial vocations" in the much more general sense of the term.

Personal Experience:

I have known both times when I was unable to participate effectively in church and her ministry due to illness and times when I was able to participate fully. I have lived as a hermit during both of these and there is no doubt in my mind that the first period was also one where something crucial was missing from my eremitical life while the second involves a richer and more paradoxical sense of the silence of solitude. This sense is a large part of what informs my reflections even though it is usually only implicit in my posts. Especially here, I believe the time of enforced separation due to illness made me more aware of the ecclesial or communal dimension of the eremitical life -- and particularly of the need to be able to participate in some way in the liturgical and other communal life of the Church if one is to live consecrated eremitical life in the Church's name.

Reflection on canon 603 is something I have done in both periods of my life but the relational and ecclesiological sense of each of its elements was something I resisted (it was painful to embrace completely) so long as illness prevented my own participation in parish life. My relational standing in the People of God has helped me appreciate the history of the canon, the place of community in the growth of a call to solitude, the relational nature of the vows,  and the distinction between the isolation or estrangement of sin and the engagement with God on the part of others (and in limited ways, with them as well) which is so characteristic of the silence of  eremitical solitude in an ecclesial context. One can live as a hermit both ways but there is no doubt in my mind that alienation and estrangement --- even that occasioned by illness --- only allows for a partial and somewhat distorted understanding of the canon 603 vocation.

In particular this can become clearer once the Church has admitted one to profession and consecration, when she has, in fact, entrusted one with the canonical responsibilities and obligations connected to the public form of this vocation. At that point one acquires a profound sense of being part of the handing on of a living Tradition. One acquires a more explicit sense of mission which differs significantly from mere purpose and this happens as the result of being publicly and canonically consecrated and commissioned by the Church. This is vastly different, and in some ways, a vastly richer experience of the ecclesial nature of an eremitical vocation than simply living as a hermit because one has discerned one is called to be a hermit apart from the Church's active ministry in mediating this call. My experience in this also leads me to say that in the case of lay hermits, I think there must be a strong ecclesial dimension to their lives and though this is not as clearly established as it is in the case of the canonical hermit, it must exist and be nurtured and protected by the hermit in whatever ways are possible.

Culture and the History of Eremitical Life:

Both the nature of our culture and the history of eremitical life underscores the importance of understanding eremitical life and even reclusion as relational vocations which in significant ways "belong" to the Church. Eremitical life has always been a prophetic way of life speaking the will of God into the contemporary situation with a uniquely arresting kind of power and vividness. In the days of the Desert Mothers and Fathers hermits reminded the Church it had allied itself too closely with the political and cultural environment and called it to conversion.

Today hermits remain a counter cultural reality in a world marked and marred by individualism (often expressed in materialism and consumerism) so long as solitude is understood in terms communion with God and all that is grounded in God. If solitude is defined in terms of estrangement and alienation eremitical life becomes complicit in these and betrays its own roots and nature. Similarly, to some extent eremitical life reminds religious men and women that though communion with those in the saeculum does not allow for a simplistic division between the spiritual and the secular or the sacred and profane, neither can religious buy too completely into the world of the saeculum; they must maintain an eschatological perspective and orientation even as they participate profoundly in the saeculum.

The place of stereotypes and frauds in affirming this vocation belongs to the Church:

Skipping for now the place of the sciences, there are stereotypes and those who would distort eremitical life in ways which are obstacles to understanding the profoundly ecclesial and relational nature of eremitical or reclusive solitude. Stereotypes come to life in real people today and those who represent distortions of eremitical life make it much harder for others to leave stereotypes behind. This in turn could mean that eremitical life will continue to be neither understood nor appropriately valued by the majority of our Church and world. It can also mean that for those rare persons who have such a vocation, an eremitical life will be harder to consider seriously and harder for the Church to deal with. Prelates who are charged with discerning these vocations may instead dismiss them as too bizarre, too troublesome and time consuming, too difficult to discern, and too contrary to the Church's understanding of herself or her communal life to be considered healthy. This means especially that the major expressions of disaffected human existence today (misanthropy, narcissism, isolationism, etc) will be (or continue to be) more easily labeled "eremitical" despite the fact that they are realities which are antithetical to the real thing.

Tom Leppard (see articles)

In instances where the Church's own vocation to the consecrated eremitical life is misrepresented by actual frauds this situation is exacerbated and those without such a vocation may well be misled to unknowingly adopt an equally inauthentic version of this vocation. What is especially difficult about these fraudulent vocations is the disparaging way the ecclesial dimension is treated. I believe there are relatively few outright frauds out there but because they write and otherwise represent disingenuous or perhaps "merely" delusional nonsense which is disedifying and seductive for those seeking a way to validate individualism and narcissism, they can cause significant mischief in people's lives and in the life of the Church itself. Moreover they can do so in ways far more powerful than lifeless stereotypes (which are powerful enough in themselves) can do.

I do feel real sympathy for those I am aware of --- and in some cases I feel or have felt significant pain -- both because of and for them. I sincerely believe these persons began pursuing eremitical life in good faith but failed in solitude and came to reject the Church's role in governing ecclesial vocations precisely because of individualism, illness, and sometimes, outright narcissism. It is these cases especially that underscore for me the importance not only of humility in this vocation, but of a vital embeddedness in the faith community with competent direction and regular oversight. In the cases I am aware of some do seek admission to profession under canon 603 but when they are discouraged from this, or actually refused admission, their disappointment has sometimes hardened into despair and disaffection. Once this occurs their relationship with the Church can weaken and sometimes is transformed into actual disregard for her teaching, praxis, and members. These persons may then strike out on their own while yet representing themselves as Catholic Hermits --- hermits living eremitical life in the name of the Church. I do understand the pain of such disappointment; it is terribly painful to sustain what can feel like a personal rejection. But I also understand that one's identity as an integral part of the Body of Christ is too precious to jeopardize in this way. Certainly it cannot be replaced by this kind of pretense.

The tragic irony in such cases is that the eremitical life that could have healed one's self-centeredness and transfigured one's marginalization itself becomes a victim of these. What could have been a path to significant integration, reconciliation, and fruitfulness becomes instead an example of a withered fig tree which may have lost any possibility of a verdant future. Once again though, this underscores the ecclesial nature of the authentic eremitical vocation. Such vocations, whether lay or consecrated, "belong" to and must be overseen by the Church. They are a signifcant part of her living Tradition, her Patrimony. In what may be the vocation's most significant paradox these persons demonstrate that authentic Catholic Hermits are never those who attempt to go it alone.

One final source, Camaldolese Spirituality:

Let me note briefly here that a final source of my own conviction about the notion that eremitical vocations "belong to the Church" is my own relationship with Camaldolese and Cistercian spiritualities. Any Congregation or Order comprised of hermits or allowing for hermits constitutes an ecclesial context which assures the health or vitality of the individual vocation concerned and of the eremitical vocation more generally. One of the more significant contributions St Romuald made (besides founding the Camaldolese Benedictine Order!) was bringing isolated hermits together or at least under the Rule of St Benedict --- moves which helped curb tendencies to destructive individualism, provided discipline, and related these vocations to the larger Church. Centuries later it was Peter Damian, Camaldolese monk and prelate who referred to the hermit in (her) cell as an ecclesiola ("little church") --- not because one can be church by oneself, but because an individual who is properly professed and/or integrally related to church, represents or symbolizes the whole. One of the phrases characterizing Camaldolese life is "Living Together Alone". There is no doubt I am significantly influenced by Camaldolese thought, spirituality, and praxis in this matter.

N.B., for those interested in reading about Camaldolese spirituality generally or the phrase, "living together alone", please see The Privilege of Love, and especially Brother Bede Healey's "Psychological Investigations and Implications for Living Together Alone". Also important here are Dom Robert Hale's "Koinonia: The Privilege of Love", and Dom Cyprian Consiglio's, "An Image of the Praying Church: Camaldolese Liturgical Spirituality."

Communal Vocations: Reclusion versus Isolation, Solitude versus Individualism

[[Dear Sister, you wrote that hermits should be open to greater degrees of reclusion should God call them to that. How does a person discern this and how does it differ from what you called "unhealthy " withdrawal or isolation instead of "eremitical solitude"? What if a mistake is made? Would strict reclusion make one less a "good" Catholic? I am assuming it would not but if a regular Catholic [a lay Catholic] thought they were called to reclusion would that look different than the reclusion of a diocesan hermit? It appears to me that if someone stopped attending Mass or receiving the Sacraments on the grounds that God was calling them to be a recluse they would be more likely deluding themselves and leaving the Church than discerning a divine call.]]

I have written about the caution and care with which the Church approaches reclusion here in the past so please check those posts. In them I discuss the congregations allowed to have recluses, the constraints and continuing obligations that pertain, and the legal (canonical) relationships which are necessary for a hermit to embrace reclusion. Above all I think these stress that reclusion requires mutual discernment and the support of the faith (including the religious) community. So please check those out for the stuff I don't cover in this post. Much of it is presupposed in any answer to your own questions and I will repeat some of it here for context.

Reclusion: Mutual Discernment for a Communal Vocation

A call to reclusion would have to be mutually discerned and supported by the faith community. It cannot be the result of a whim on the part of a hermit, much less a non hermit or novice hermit. It cannot even be merely individually discerned despite being much more than a whim. Partly this is because the diocesan hermit who seeks to become a recluse is changing the nature and, to some extent, the witness of her life. She has a responsibility to the Faith community in whose name she is commissioned; that reason alone would be sufficient to establish that her discernment must be serious and take place in the heart of the Church. However, her vocation is also meant to be a gift witnessing to the Gospel and for that reason too serious discernment must take place in the heart of the Church. Meanwhile, the faith community bears an important responsibility for the hermit's continuing ability to live an integral faith -- though not as directly as the hermit herself. The pastor (or other priest) will have a role in coming for the Sacraments of reconciliation, and anointing of the sick when needed; he will need to come to say Mass occasionally at the hermitage itself (once or twice a month). Extraordinary Eucharistic ministers would need to bring Communion from daily and Sunday Masses more frequently than they might otherwise --- though the hermit would likely continue to reserve Eucharist for the days in between these visits.

The hermit's spiritual director would need to visit regularly (though this might be a continuation of a standing practice) and possibly more frequently than usual --- especially early on in the discernment process. Provision for meetings with the hermit's delegate and the Bishop would also need to be made --- especially if the hermit cannot go to the chancery herself. (In my experience some Vicars and the hermit's delegate tend to come to the hermitage; annual meetings with the Bishop might be done the same way in the case of reclusion.) Meanwhile, it might be an important piece of the necessary arrangements to be sure the hermit is regularly present in the prayers of the community ---- just as she prays for them.  In my own parish I would probably find ways to write reflections, bulletin pieces, etc which would then be available to the parish at large while other forms of ministry would need to be curtailed. And of course practical concerns must also be taken care of: shopping, transportation to doctor's visits, errands, etc. This would all need to be worked out if the hermit-recluse was to live an integral faith life as a Catholic recluse.

Moreover, there needs to be initial agreement on the part of the hermit's delegate and Bishop. They will have needed to have heard the reasons the hermit believes she is being called in this direction and worked through any initial senses that the hermit is mistaken or misguided in this particular move. Similarly there must be a determination that this vocation will serve both the diocesan and parish churches without being an imposition on, much less a stumbling block for them. (Probably this can be assured by meetings to explain the vocation to those in the hermit's parish especially, and perhaps neighboring parishes as well.) The Bishop or delegate may need to speak to the pastor, and certainly the hermit will need to do so to request his cooperation and support. The point in all of this is that reclusion as lived in the Roman Catholic Church is a communal vocation. Yes, it focuses on the individual and God, on utter dependence on God and the completion that comes from one's relationship with God, but it is also lived in the heart of the faith community and with some very real spiritual and material dependence upon that community. In such a case mistakes are less likely, but they can also be easily discerned and rectified. The hermit who is not called to reclusion simply resumes and continues to live her normal eremitical life.

Why not simply go off and do it all oneself?

Your first question was whether or not reclusion would make one less than a "good Catholic". I have stressed the communal nature of the vocation to reclusion for the publicly professed and consecrated hermit because I think it is clear that when the vocation is lived in this way --- the way some Order hermits and any diocesan hermit would necessarily live the vocation in the name of the Church --- there is no question but that one would continue to be a "good Catholic". But notice that reclusion here is not an excuse for isolation, narcissism, or radical individualism. A vocation to reclusion has got to be a profoundly contemplative vocation but this means it must be a loving vocation --- one where God is loved, of course, but also one lived for the sake of the faith-commitments and lives of others.

The word often used in something like this is "edifying"; especially in a culture of exaggerated individualism where too often license replaces freedom, reclusion must be able to speak to the need as well as the made-for-community quality and profound interdependence of the entire creation. A vocation to reclusion must build up the Church and witness to the Gospel for the sake of the Kingdom while the perfection sought therein must reflect the completion to which God is drawing the entire creation. Since most of this is merely implicit in most hermit's lives the hermit must do what she does in conjunction with the whole church, but especially her pastors, theologians, bishops (teachers), and others who reflect on the profound but often obscure relatedness and prophetic witness of her vocation which is her gift to the Church making it explicit to the rest of the Church..

A hermit who chooses to go off on her own, to turn her back on her parish and diocesan church, to treat others as though their spirituality is of a different nature than her own, to live without the Sacraments or serious discernment with others, does God, herself, and the Church a serious disservice. (cf., Hermits and Sunday Obligation) If we live in union with God we will also live in union with those who also have God as their source and ground. If we have a vocation to essential hiddenness we can only honor such a gift in relation to others who will explain it, celebrate it, and make it known in a world which hungers profoundly for it. One way the church assures that this necessary mutuality and interrelatedness is maintained is by her recognition that baptized Catholics have canonical rights and obligations they need to honor --- whether as lay persons, priests, or as religious. A consecrated Catholic Hermit, whether diocesan or the member of an Order assumes new rights and obligations in addition to those embraced at baptism but she does not relinquish those that came with baptism.

These rights and obligations are not icing on the cake but the necessary rights and obligations for life in a faith community committed to the Gospel of Jesus Christ --- whether we are speaking of the community of the larger world, the Universal Church, a Religious Order, or a diocese and parish. Thus, as you suspect, there is some difference in the way reclusion would look and work for the lay person living a private dedication and for the person living the silence of solitude in the name of the Church; however, both would be called to do this within the Church and with some degree of ecclesial assistance. For both, reclusion is something lived meaningfully and integrally only within the significant constellation of relationships constituting the Body of Christ. (For hermits who are not part of the Christian tradition we usually see reclusion reflecting a strong sense of the significant constellation of relationships marked by one's common humanity and one's place in nature. In fact, all authentic hermits tend to share this profound sense of relatedness to the whole of creation precisely in their solitude.)

A Matter of Deluding Oneself?

I think you are right that someone living a life of reclusion without at least some of the central structures and forms of relatedness mentioned here is likely deluding themselves. To say to oneself, "God is calling me to this; God is calling me to exile" (as I have recently heard this characterized) and to essentially turn one's back on the entire Church and her mediatory structures and relationships, one's baptismal commitments, rights, and obligations may be, potentially at least, delusional at best and arrogant to the point of apostasy at worst. Once upon a time this form of hermit life was acceptable but the Church's rules changed with continued reflection on the importance of a regular sacramental life in community with others.  Today it is a theologically and humanly incoherent response, especially by someone claiming to be a Catholic Hermit. It is one thing for a Christian to try significant reclusion for temporary periods with the support of the Church and entirely another to embrace it as a way of life when it means a form of churchless (and sometimes anti-Church) individualism.

Thus Paul Giustiniani wrote: [[Indeed this solitary way of life was considered more perfect (even if less safe) than that of the cenobites at the time when no law of  Holy Church forbade living a life in complete solitude. But at the present time ecclesiastical laws oblige all the Christian faithful . . .  to confess their sins often, to receive Holy Communion, and to celebrate or attend Mass frequently. . .Now since all these things are hardly possible in this [entirely solitary] kind of life, it would seem to be wholly prohibited. So it is held to be less safe (or rather completely illicit) for a Christian to attempt it, or more exactly, to persist in it.]] Rule of the Hermit Life.  "Three Types of Hermits"

God resides in and speaks to the human heart. Of this there is no doubt. But much of the time God's voice is not the only voice we hear.  Our own insecurities, vices, fears, ignorance, biases, and so forth make themselves heard there and often mimic or distort the voice of God in the process. Learning to hear the voice of God in the depths of our own hearts and achieving the healing that is required so this voice sings with a clarity which resonates throughout our whole selves takes time and requires the presence of others who know us well, know God in their own lives and hearts, and can be counted on to lovingly call us to accountability. Directors, pastors, Sisters and Brothers in the faith and in religious life -- as well those who serve as delegates and legitimate superiors -- all  assist the hermit to be truly discerning regarding how God is speaking and what God is calling the hermit to. To merely "go it alone" is foolishness --- and more importantly, it is apt to be uncharitable and ungrateful foolishness.

For those who experience "ecstasies," "locutions," and other possible signs of mystical prayer associated with "private revelations" the paradoxical truth is that they require even more contact with others, even greater oversight and mutual discernment. Private revelations must be measured by competent persons according to the deposit of faith entrusted to the Church as such.  Moreover, to whatever degree these experiences are genuine they belong to the Church as a whole, not to the individual. 

This is why "going it alone" especially over the long term is ungrateful foolishness. To whatever degree they are the voice of illness, an extravagant imagination, hypnosis, chemical influence, etc, they require others (and especially other contemplatives --- often with the help of professionals) to help discern what is actually going on. Eventually the Church herself may need to weigh in on the authenticity of such experiences and more, their edifying or disedifying nature. It requires others to look past the sensible experiences themselves to the growth and maturity of the person who experienced them. Besides the one experiencing these, others need to evaluate the fruits of these experiences or, at the very least, reflect back to their subject what they themselves are seeing. Otherwise, such experiences are worth little or nothing --- and perhaps worse than nothing.

The bottom line is that both eremitical solitude and reclusion in the consecrated state are ecclesial vocations; both are communal in their very essence and are lived in an ecclesial context. In a less formal way the same is true of lay reclusion. The ecclesial context and communal elements cannot be severed from the vocations themselves nor vice versa. To do so is to make a bad beginning and ensure continuing mistakes all along the way. Of course it also makes it much more difficult to rectify one's simple and sincere mistakes even as one is tempted to compound them because of embarrassment, pride, arrogance, personal dishonesty, and so forth.

Because the consecrated Catholic recluse is a rare and powerful symbol of the Church at prayer, because s/he is a vivid symbol of the Church whose very heart is the dynamic presence of God who is at work perfecting reality by loving it into wholeness through the mediation of this same Church, again, the recluse's vocation belongs to the Church not to the individual alone. Outside the confines of the Church, and especially when there is an element of turning from or repudiating the Church to do this, the recluse may well become a symbol of sinful, and isolated existence instead. I don't think there is any middle ground here for the baptized Christian and especially for the Catholic Hermit who lives her vocation in the name of the church.

Eve of the Feast of Saint Francis (Reprised with tweaks to update)

The first two pictures here are taken of one of the small side chapel niches at Old Mission Santa Barbara. The first one shows the entire sculpture setting with statues of St Francis and St Clare along with the San Damiano Cross in the background. The second is a close up of a portion of this setting which I have used before; it was a gift given to me on this Feast Day the year before last and is my favorite statue of St Francis. The third stands in the (private) covenant courtyard of the Mission and is another contemporary rendering through which a Father worked out his grief over the loss of his son.

Today St Francis' popularity and influence (inspiration!) is more striking than it has been in a very long time. We see it animating a relatively new Pope to transform the Church in light of Vatican II and to live a simple Gospel-centered life just as Francis of Assisi was inspired by God to do. We see it in the renewed emphasis of the Church on evangelization and ecumenism where the One God who stands behind all true religious impulses is honored while he is proclaimed most fully and revealed with the most perfect transparency in the crucified Christ. We see it in a renewed sense of the cosmic Christ and in a growing sensitivity to the sacredness and interconnectedness of all creation.  Saint Francis lived the truth of the Gospel with an honesty, transparency (poverty), and integrity which captures the imagination of everyone who meets him in some significant way -- something that happens for so many in his papal namesake. This saint inspires a hope and joy that only the God who overcomes death and brings eternal life through an unconditional mercy and love that does justice could do. He renews our hope in Christ that our own Church and world might well reveal the glory of this God as they are meant to do. Saint Francis is a gift to the Church in ways which are hard to overstate.

On this Feast Day of Saint Francis of Assisi I feel privileged to celebrate this great man (saint) and all those who go by the name of Franciscan . In particular I celebrate friends and Sisters like Ilia Delio whose book, Making All Things New, I am reading right now --- and which I highly recommend! [It is as readable as her books on Saint Clare, Franciscan Prayer, or The Humility of God and explores some of the theological implications of an unfinished universe and the "new cosmology. What is "new" here is that she does so with regard to classic topics more typically associated with the whole history systematic or dogmatic theology (e.g., the nature of Catholicity and the Church, the last things, putting on the Mind of Christ, etc).]  I also especially give thanks for Pope Francis, a shepherd so clearly inspired by Saint Francis and the Crucified Christ --- and one whose trip to the US I am still processing (and recovering from!). Our world is simply a better place with a more truly Christian presence, sensibility, and spirit because of Saint Francis and those who seek to live his way. Peace and all Good!