Feast of Saint Francis of Assisi! Rebuilding a Church in "Silent Schism"

My God and My All! Deus Meus et Omnia! All good wishes to my Franciscan Sisters and Brothers on this patronal feast! I hope it is a day filled with Franciscan joy and simplicity and that this ancient Franciscan motto echoes in your hearts. In today's world we need more than ever a commitment to Franciscan values, not least a commitment to treasure God's creation in a way which fosters ecological health. Genesis tells us we are stewards of this creation and it is a role we need to take seriously. Francis reminds us of this commission of ours, not least by putting God first in everything. (It is difficult to exploit the earth in the name of consumerism when we put God first, and in fact, allow him to be our God and our All!)

Another theme of Francis' life was the rebuilding of the Church and he came to know that it was only as each of us embraced a life of genuine holiness that the Church would be the living temple of God it was meant to be. The analogies between the Church in Francis' day and our own are striking. Today, the horrific scandal facing a Church rocked by sexual abuse and, even more problematical in some ways, the collusion in and cover-up of this problem by members of the hierarchy, a related clericalism Pope Francis condemns, and the exclusion of women from any part in the decision making of the Church makes it all-too-clear that our Church requires rebuilding. So does the subsequent scapegoating of Pope Francis by those who resist Vatican II and  an ecclesia semper reformanda est (a church always to be reformed).

And so, many today are calling for a fundamental rebuilding of the Church, a rebuilding which would sweep away the imperial episcopate along with the scourge of clericalism, and replace these with a Church which truly affirms the priesthood of all believers and roots the Church in the foundation and image of the kenotic servant Christ. The parable of new wine requiring new wineskins is paradigmatic here (and part of the reason we speak of ecclesia semper reformanda est). On the other side of this "silent schism," some are calling for a Church that retreats into these very structures and seeks to harden them in an eternal medieval mold. Yes, in some ways we are already a Church in schism; we are a divided household, so it is appropriate that on this day we hear Jesus' challenging commission to his disciples (Luke) or grapple with the lection from Job where Job struggles to come to a mature and humble faith in the midst of his suffering, and to do so in order to remind us of the humble world-shaking faith of St Francis of Assisi.

Francis of Assisi, despite first thinking he was charged by God with rebuilding a small church building (San Damiano), knew that if he (and we) truly put God and his Christ first what would be built up was a new family, a new creation, a reality undivided and of a single heart. Ilia Delio, OSF has a penetrating analysis of the current situation in the church entitled, Is New Life Ahead for the Church? (National Catholic Reporter)  Like so many today, Delio calls for the systematic reorganization of the church and the inclusion of women at all levels of the church's life, but she adds the need for a scientifically literate theological education as part of achieving the necessary rebuilding. So, in a broken world, and an ailing church, let us learn from these  Franciscan "fools for Christ" and begin to claim our baptismal responsibility to work to rebuild and reform our Church into a living temple of unity and love. The task before us is challenging and needs our best efforts.

Again, all good wishes to my Franciscan Sisters and Brothers on this Feast! Meanwhile, as a small piece of my own continuing education towards a genuinely "scientifically literate" theology, I am trying to finish Ilia Delio, OSF's book A Hunger for Wholeness before I hear her on this theme on retreat the weekend of the 12-14. October.

The Importance of the Church's Role in Professing and Governing c 603 Hermits

[[Dear Sister, if the Church is so important in establishing the nature of a person's eremitical vocation, and if the commissioning of the hermit is crucial in protecting eremitical life from selfishness, why is it some dioceses refuse to profess anyone at all as diocesan hermits? How should we regard such blanket refusals?]]

This is a great question and one I have not written about for some years. Thank you for bringing it up again. It is clear that I believe the Church's discernment and commissioning of the eremitical vocation is critical for healthy eremitical life and also that I believe healthy eremitical life is critical for the life of the Church. So what happens when a diocese simply refuses to use canon 603 at all? This does happen, probably more frequently than I am personally aware of. It was once the case in the Archdiocese of Los Angeles (I am not sure of their position in this regard now), and has been reported in several other dioceses and Archdioceses. Let me say that I understand the difficulties of implementing canon 603, especially in terms of discernment, formation, time frames, diocesan support and justice issues, but also that difficulties notwithstanding, canon 603 is a matter of universal law which recognizes the unquestionable way the Holy Spirit is working in the Church; while dioceses must be careful in their discernment and admission of candidates to profession, it is irresponsible to simply refuse to even undertake suitable discernment or otherwise abdicate the diocese's proper role in mediating and supervising this vocation in today's Church.

God is working in people's lives to call them to solitude. We know this is true because we have persons living as diocesan hermits throughout the world now, most of them in edifying ways. For most of these, canon 603 is not a stopgap vocation but the way God is truly calling them to wholeness and holiness. Others live both more and less credible eremitical lives without benefit of the Church's profession, consecration, and commission (missioning) into the silence of solitude. At the same time it remains true that this vocation belongs to the Church; God has entrusted it to the Church as a unique paradigm of the power of the Gospel, the importance of prayer, the potential of nature and grace combined, and of the prophetic dimension of ecclesial life besides.

It is the Church that is responsible for discerning ecclesial eremitical vocations with the hermit candidate, for entrusting and supervising the vocation especially in terms of the rights and obligations that come with public profession and initiation into the consecrated state --- rights and obligations that are not additional to the vocation (because it is ecclesial) but intrinsic to it, just as she is responsible for mediating the hermit's call and commissioning to embrace stricter separation from the world, the silence of solitude, and the life of the evangelical counsels, in ways which are both healthy and countercultural.  All of these elements of ecclesial vocations protect the eremitical life from needless eccentricity, individualism, and even selfishness; they are part and parcel of God's redemption of human isolation and transformation of that into what canon 603 calls "the silence of solitude."

Just go off into Solitude; That's all you Need:

I used to hear fairly regularly from folks who had approached their dioceses seeking admission to profession and consecration under c 603 that they had been told, "Just go off and live in solitude; that's all you need." But given all I have written about this vocation as an ecclesial vocation, I have to say I believe such advice has very limited utility in cases of lay hermit vocations or as a tactic to temporize initially when evaluating the suitability of a candidate or starting them out (or revisiting the possibility of starting them out) on a process of mutual discernment (some folks approach dioceses without yet having lived even a week in eremitical solitude and are given such instructions before being allowed to return to the diocese to participate in a serious process of discernment). However, it is downright wrong in cases where God is calling someone to serve God and the Gospel in an ecclesial vocation to eremitical solitude, and therefore, who both needs and desires to do so as a Catholic hermit. While the need for careful discernment is critical, it is not necessarily an indictment of the hermit's maturity or spiritual readiness to admit they need to be admitted to canonical standing in the consecrated state of life. Instead it can be a sign of a genuine vocation.

When I wrote and submitted my first Rule I noted that I sought canonical standing because over time I had determined it was impossible for me to live eremitical life without it; while I came to terms with the possibility my diocese might never implement canon 603, I also came to see I needed the freedom to fail in my attempts to live the central elements of the canon, but also to succeed in doing so; I needed a way to assure the motivation to try again day after day to truly be the person God was calling me to be in stricter separation from a world that pulled at me in every way. I needed the protections and permissions afforded by profession under canon 603 including ecclesial guidance, the weight of becoming part of a living tradition of hermit life, and a very real accountability to the Church and those who formally represent her in my life.  In short, I needed the freedom to explore a call to union with God, and to do so in a way which proclaimed a Gospel I had given my life to.

All of this became even more critical given the radical countercultural nature of eremitical life. Embracing such a life, no matter the personal circumstances, could (and mainly would) be seen as abdicating one's own responsibility for a loving life both living and proclaiming the Gospel of Christ. In other words, "just going off and living in solitude" without canonical commission would never have been enough for me if I was to live my vocation wholeheartedly over the whole of my adult life. I needed to be sure my life was not an instance of misguided individualism, personal and ministerial failure, or some form of unhealthy selfishness subtly disguised with pious labels; I needed to be confirmed in my own discernment of God's movement in my life and encouraged to feel free to continue discerning this movement every day of my life. And I needed to proclaim that God had redeemed the isolation of a life marked and marred by chronic illness and transformed it into an instance of essential wholeness and paradoxical presence precisely in and through the silence of solitude.

This is a difficult (and not atypical) discernment, I think, requiring time and expert assistance. It was and remains today the Church's obligation to aid and support me and others in this process by virtue of her Divinely granted responsibility for eremitical life --- something I think remains true, though in differing ways, whether or not she decides to profess a person or not.

The problems Dioceses Face in Implementing Canon 603:

There are certainly problems dioceses face in implementing canon 603.  Adequate discernment and formation are demanding requirements which dioceses may not feel able to achieve or assist with. (This is the reason I have posted here about a process of discernment and formation which protects the hermit's freedom, allows a diocese to follow and dialogue with the hermit in a constructive way, and which is not onerous for the diocese or her personnel.) Many dioceses have c 603 hermits today and can refer Vicars and others should assistance in discerning authentic vocations be required. The hugest caveat dioceses should be aware of is the caution that being a lone individual, no matter how pious, is not necessarily the same as being a hermit and that c 603 is meant for eremitical vocations, not simply to profess solitary religious as is the case with the Episcopal church's canon on "solitaries."

Contemplative vocations are relatively rare and misunderstood (or at least not understood or sufficiently esteemed) today; eremitical vocations are even more rare and mainly misunderstood, not only by the faithful generally, but by chanceries as well. In a culture marked and marred by an exaggerated individualism and currents of selfishness it may be tempting to dismiss eremitical vocations as illegitimate instances of the culture in search of legitimization, but this would be a mistake. In relatively rare instances genuine hermits will come along who can and do live a paradoxical call to "stricter separation from the world" and "the silence of solitude" and do so as a direct challenge to the individualism and selfishness of the culture. The Church must be open to discerning and professing these vocations!

Questions of justice remain: what do we do with and for hermits who have lived their vows for years and even decades but may, as they age or become infirm, require financial assistance or help with housing? As it stands now dioceses require waivers of liability and stress the hermit must be self-supporting; but what happens down the line when civic safety-nets no longer work and the only option the hermit has is to live in a nursing facility where silence and solitude, much less the silence OF solitude cannot be found? These are important questions and will need to be dealt with but I don't think they are insoluble, especially if the Church continues to be careful in her discernment and profession of eremitical vocations and willing to work with them on a case by case basis. I think the careful way most (but not all!) dioceses have proceeded in professing the c 603 hermits they have aids in solving these problems. What must not happen (and really has not happened) is to allow the floodgates to open and every solitary person approaching a diocese to petition for profession under c 603 in search of a sinecure to be admitted to profession in a careless and undiscerning way. Similarly, (and this has happened) we must not allow c 603 to be used as a pretense to profess individuals with no real eremitical vocation --- lone individuals who have not and may never embrace a desert spirituality, those who want to start communities (even communities of hermits!), those who work fulltime outside the hermitage in highly social jobs, and those who simply want to be religious without the challenges and gifts of community.

At the same time though, it is equally irresponsible to simply refuse to profess anyone under c 603 as though the Church's post Vatican II decision to honor the eremitical vocation in the revision of the Code of Canon Law did not reflect the movement of the Holy Spirit. Similarly, it is hardly fair to penalize individuals with authentic vocations but who merely happen to live in a diocese that has refused to implement the canon in any case. It may be that Vicars, bishops and others will need to educate themselves on this vocation, but isn't this part of their legal and moral responsibility? Canon 603 provides the means to be admitted to a new and stable state of life, namely, the consecrated eremitical state. It does that not only for the church as a whole, but for a fragile, rare, and significant ecclesial vocation that requires not only everything the hermit can give, but the Church's own wholehearted pastoral care and concern as well. The refusal of dioceses to discern, profess, and supervise or govern c 603 hermits now, a full 35 years after c 603 was first promulgated, represents nothing less than the local Church's abdication of her own role precisely as Church!

On Selfishness versus Selflessness in Eremitical Life

[[Hi Sister Laurel, I wondered if you could clarify how an eremitical vocation is not a selfish vocation, particularly in light of your last post on limited ministry and having an apostolate to the eremitical life/hermitage. Thank you.]]

Thanks for your question. I have been struggling to articulate the truth of this since August 2015 or so and gradually moving towards this important point in my prayer and reflection for a lot longer than that. One of the posts I wrote prior to the last post (01. October. 2018) dealt with the distinction between retiring to a hermitage out of selfishness and doing so out of a genuine love for others; it is found here: On the Question of Selfishness versus Hiddenness Lived for Others. I would urge you to take a look at this. I think it is clearer in some ways than my last post, but it does not use the language of "apostolate", a form of structured evangelization or proclamation of the Gospel to which one is sent (or with which one is entrusted) by the Church.

You see, hermits evangelize precisely by becoming whole and holy in their hermitages and thus witnessing to the fact that every human being, no matter how poor, is called to and can attain the same authentic humanity. We say that God completes us, that God alone is sufficient for us. I think this is what Merton was speaking of when he said (paraphrase) "the primary duty of the hermit is to live in (his) hermitage without pretense in a fundamental peace (and joy)," or, that the hermit makes "fundamental claims about nature and grace" which truly gives hope to others. What Merton saw, and I think what every authentic hermit sees is that his "apostolate" was exercised precisely within the hermitage. We are sent forth (made apostles) to proclaim the Good News with our lives, but the place within which that apostolate always occurs is the hermitage through  "stricter separation from the world," and "the silence of solitude" lived and achieved there. The Church is entrusted with this vocation and is responsible for sending hermits forth into their hermitages because she believes profoundly that commissioning hermits paradoxically advances the proclamation of the Gospel in our world.

I think it is relatively easy to substitute selfishness for the unselfishness of the authentic eremitical vocation. While people are free to choose lay eremitical life, it is easier to do so selfishly when hermits are not charged (commissioned) by the church with the mission canonical hermits are charged with, when, that is, someone simply chooses solitude as the environment in which they will live their lives. Whether true or not, this choice usually seems at least somewhat selfish to those looking at the hermit's life unless there are mitigating circumstances which make solitude a necessary context for living a life of wholeness and holiness. Here is one place admission to canonical standing helps clarify the motivation and meaning of the hermit's solitude. Moreover, since the external trappings are mainly the same for each one these do not clarify whether the life lived is essentially selfish or not;  thus too, determining selfishness and unselfishness is part of what makes discernment and formation both critical, difficult, and relatively time consuming. Over time the Church will see that the hermit's life is lived for God and for others, and that the hermit will persevere in the sacrifices needed in order to do this in "the silence of solitude" or she will find that the hermit is not called to eremitical life. The Church will find that she is meant to mediate God's own "sending" or missioning a person into stricter separation from the world and the silence of solitude, or she is not.

Certain things will be evident in the life of eremitical authenticity: faithfulness to one's Rule, perseverance in trust in the God who alone is sufficient for us, growth in wholeness and holiness as one undertakes one's life of prayer, personal work, lectio, and study in silence and solitude.  One's love for God, for others and for oneself will also grow; personal healing and maturation will clearly be present in an ongoing way. The capacity to securely hold onto the foundational vision of the life as one negotiates legitimate ministerial claims upon one's time and energies will gradually be revealed and strengthened. A deep happiness at being oneself as a hermit which is not the same as the superficial happiness of getting one's own way or "doing one's own thing" will be increasingly evident, and one will be entirely comfortable with the sacrifices the vocation requires because the grace of the vocation is so much greater and important to and for others.

Although not quite on topic, let me say here that the profound sense some bishops and vicars have that this vocation should not be rushed into, that formation and discernment both take time (at least five years for initial formation and discernment) are right on target. (I would suggest at least five years mutual discernment is necessary before one can be admitted to temporary profession but that this is not long enough to admit to perpetual profession unless there is significant religious formation and life experience before beginning the pursuit of profession under c 603.) In any case, it is only over time that the motivation and sacrifices which are part and parcel of the vocation become truly clear to everyone involved in the processes of discernment and formation. One of these sacrifices is active ministry except on a very limited basis; at the same time the conviction that life in the hermitage itself is our apostolate is something we will come to see clearly only in time.

The bottom line in distinguishing between selfishness and selflessness is rooted in the truth that it is a profoundly loving and ministerial act to accept the commission to become the persons God calls us to be in the silence of solitude. Because the hermit believes deeply in this paradoxical truth and embraces it wholeheartedly she will make every sacrifice including the renunciation of many discrete gifts and talents which would be tied to ministries outside the hermitage in order to live the truth of the completion and redemption  that comes to her as the fruits of eremitical life.  She will wholeheartedly embrace stricter separation from the world and life lived in and for the silence of solitude along with the other requirements of c 603 precisely because doing so will allow her own redemption and the unique proclamation of the Gospel of Jesus Christ associated with her eremitical life. She will do so in order to witness to the power of the grace of God to transform every human poverty into the fullness of incarnational humanity. She will embrace and allow God to achieve in her life the self-emptying required to glorify God in the silence of eremitical solitude.

Moreover, she will do so for the sake of those from whom she is largely separated and to whom her life is largely hidden in order that they may also know the freedom and hope of life lived in communion with God. To fail in this is to fail to allow God to redeem one in the solitude of the hermitage; it is to fail to commit to the growth in wholeness and holiness the love of God makes possible and to live an isolated egotism rather than the silence of solitude. Beside the importance of the Church's "sending" of the hermit into "the silence of solitude," this is the reason the redemptive element is also so crucial for discerning authentic eremitical vocations.  When the hermit's eremitical life fails to reflect an experience of redemption in solitude there is simply nothing for her to witness to and she will have failed to live eremitical life successfully ---  or at least to demonstrate this was what she was called and sent to by God via the ministry of God's Church..

I sincerely hope this is helpful to you.

On Determining Limits on Active Ministry Under c 603.

[[Dear Sister, you have criticized situations in which a "hermit" undertakes significant levels of ministry outside the hermitage. I am thinking about a Sister in the Archdiocese of Boston who worked fulltime at Boston College (I think that's right), a situation with which you took exception. I think you have written about several similar situations and characterized the use of canon 603 as a stopgap for an apostolic life marked mainly by active ministry and not eremitical life. How does one determine how much is too much active ministry in all of this? You do limited ministry at your parish, how do you determine how much is appropriate? Also, I was wondering what happens if a hermit's pastor desires she do more active ministry than she is comfortable with? Can a hermit's bishop assign her to more active ministry outside the hermitage?]]

Thanks for your questions. Yes, I have criticized a number of situations in which I believe c 603 was abused in order to profess someone in a stopgap vocation which was not truly eremitical. The situation in the Archdiocese of Boston was not the only one in that diocese which suffered from the same problem. I believe these kinds of abuses of c 603 stem from a couple of significant deficiencies: 1) a failure to understand that eremitical life is not the same as simply being a lone religious without a community; 2) a failure to esteem eremitical life or its specific witness, not merely to the ministry of prayer, but to the foundational truth that we are each completed by God alone, 3) a correlative failure to understand or regard the significance of a life of the silence of solitude where the silence of solitude is the context, goal, and charism of the vocation God has entrusted to the Church. When these deficiencies are present, whether on the part of the diocese, the candidate, or both of these, one of the first things that happens is a tendency to embrace ever-greater kinds and degrees of ministry outside the hermitage.

The Silence of Solitude as Foundational Charism and Apostolate:

Before one can determine the level of outside ministry that is appropriate in any given eremitical life I think it is crucial that they are clear about just how and why eremitical life itself is a gift, and why the sacrifice of the silence of solitude is not only as loving as any other form of apostolate, but is the foundational charism of eremitical life. Unless we understand that the truth of the person's completion in God, that God alone is sufficient for us and what we are made for, is the greatest truth to which one can bear witness, we are apt to see a need to complement our eremitical life with various forms of outside ministry. Unless we understand how profoundly loving it can be to sacrifice so very many of the discrete gifts and talents we may possess in order to make our life in and with God itself the single gift we bring to the entire Church, we will feel compelled to add ministry outside the hermitage to the silence of solitude. Hermits are gifts to the Church and world precisely as hermits. While they engage in prayer and by definition live a life of prayer as "ecclesiola", they are not gifts to the Church and world as "prayer warriors". Instead, to the extent they allow God to pray in and through them, to the extent they are covenant partners of God who allow God to complete them and perfect authentic humanity in this way, they will  minister effectively to the Church and world precisely as hermits.

Being over Doing:

What I am trying, even struggling, to say here is the truth that allowing God to complete one in the silence of solitude (which will include prayer, study, inner work, lectio, etc) is the single foundational apostolate or ministry the hermit is charged with by canon 603 and the Church herself. However, the Church does not send the hermit out to the world around her but rather into the hermitage and its environment of silence and solitude where this apostolate will be undertaken. When I was perpetually professed, my cowl (prayer garment) was granted with the following prayer from the Rite of Profession: " Sister, may you be faithful to the ministry the Church entrusts to you to be carried out in its name." But let me be clear, the Church charged me to undertake a life of prayer (and all that requires) in order to be transfigured by the love of God as my ministry to and within the Church. She sent me into the hermitage where I wear the cowl during large parts of my life there to undertake my ministry to become my truest self in God and witness to the universal call to holiness. I was not sent out into the world, but into stricter separation from the world in a focused search for communion with God and personal perfection in order to minister to that same world for the sake of its salvation. This will always be fundamental to the eremitical vocation.

It took me some time to understand precisely what the ministry and witness of a life of the silence of solitude consists. It took time for me to understand that it could involve and even require the sacrifice of discrete gifts and talents that led to a poverty which only God could make rich with grace. It took some years before I understood that it was precisely this poverty and this treasure --- the treasure of authentic humanity achieved only in and as communion with God --- to which a hermit witnessed in the silence of solitude. And it took more time for me to understand that "the silence of solitude" was precisely the goal and gift (charism) of the eremitical life, or that it could thus be the witness I was called to become, the ministry to which I was fundamentally called, the apostolate of being (myself-with-and-in-God) over doing to which I have been sent by the Church. Once I had come to relative clarity on these things, the tension I continually felt between solitude and ministry outside the hermitage eased considerably. The Camaldolese with whom I am an oblate speak of "the privilege of love" as the heart of our lives, and the dynamic behind every impulse and movement or ministry of our vocations. While we will sometimes express this privilege of love in limited ministry outside the hermitage (and offer hospitality within our hermitages), we recognize that an eremitical life of "the silence of solitude" itself, a term which points to the very being of the hermit in communion with God, is a foundational expression of the privilege of love which is the necessary ground of every other ministry or apostolate in the church.

Your Specific Questions:

With all that background, perhaps now I can answer your specific questions. One cannot accept profession under c 603 unless one understands the gift quality of the life it outlines --- and unless one understands that one is sent not out into the world, but instead into the hermitage for the very sake of the salvation of the world, a world which needs to hear that only God alone can complete and perfect us and our humanity. To do so when one mainly feels called to ministry outside the hermitage, or for other less worthy reasons, is to use c 603 as a stopgap solution --- that is, as a way of gaining religious profession and standing without the challenges of community, for instance. But when one is clear about the essential nature of one's ministry and apostolate, then one can more easily discern the appropriateness of limited ministry outside the hermitage.

What I now do is remind myself of the foundational calling I have embraced, the reason and way it is a gift of God from which others can benefit, and only then do I determine if and to what degree other ministry is appropriate. Usually it must be ministry that is directly linked to my solitary (covenantal) life of prayer in and through God. Spiritual direction is a natural expression of this along with other gifts and skills I have (theology, pastoral skills and training, etc); so is leading Communion services or doing the Scriptural reflections which are part of these. Occasional workshops or talks at my parish also seem to me to be a natural expression of the foundational charism of my vocation as is writing this blog. But let me be clear, I am not called go out to do prison ministry, or ministry to some other specific group of people in the Church or world. (I might well, however, choose to write prisoners who are trying to deal with the isolation of their lives and the frustration of not being able to "do" for others. Crucially, these persons need to hear they mainly have what they need to become who God calls them to be, even in such limiting circumstances.) Neither am I to allow anything to distract me from the silence of solitude of the hermitage.

Should my pastor or bishop ask me to undertake some form of ministry outside the hermitage it would need to meet these conditions. I am first of all and in everything I do, a hermit --- nothing more, nothing less, nothing other. I will not have or be able to accept an apostolate outside the hermitage -- though I may do limited ministry outside it. My apostolate is the life of the hermitage; ministry is the service I do by virtue of this and it will only occasionally take me outside it. Should I be asked to undertake activity outside or apart from the hermitage with which I am not comfortable because it seems to mitigate faithfulness to the essential vision and praxis of my eremitical life, I will need to decline the request to do so.

In Memoriam, Clancy

Yesterday morning at 5:15 a.m. my once-feral cat, Clancy, died in my arms. He had been sick with a mass in his jaw. We treated him conservatively with injectable antibiotics and steroids which helped, especially at first, but beginning Friday night Clancy went downhill very quickly and mainly slept in my lap Saturday, drinking little, etc. I gave him some fluids, but by bedtime Saturday night he was almost too weak to walk, stand, or even hold up his head.  He slept on top of me (a favorite place when allowed) through the night. Several times, as I had to move, he cried out, but settled down again, his head under my chin, once I was quiet again. At 5:15 he had a major seizure and died as I held him --- safely but lightly cradled against my chest. He was a brave and loving little guy who, at the end, "struggled to let go" even as he hung onto me --- and I will miss him.

The following video was shared by my director; she had used it as part of a Saturday workshop, "Exploring the Seasons of My Life", so it was very timely in many ways --- and consoling and encouraging for me personally on this day especially. I love much about it but I was particularly struck by the verse on traveling through the history of my life and in doing so, moving from certainty to mystery (for) God speaks in rhyme and paradox. The line from the refrain, "To die then live is life's refrain," is also wonderful; I think it is the most fundamental dimension of spiritual growth as it is the most challenging truth of personal faith. I hope you enjoy the video.



Addendum: this afternoon (Tuesday) friends (my "adopted family"!) from the parish allowed me to bury Clancy in their garden area/flower bed. John (my younger "Older Bro") dug the grave, added some flowers, and said a prayer (it was lovely and all I could have wished; especially touching was John's reminder of those whom we love who have died --- and who would now welcome Clancy's spirit and love). A small plant from another spot nearby was planted on top of the grave. Can't say how grateful I am for John's hard work and his and Aggie's love.

On the Importance of Play in Contemplative Life

[[Dear Sister O'Neal, I wrote you recently about justifying the inner work you have undertaken in the last couple of years. I thought it pretty atypical of hermits and wondered if you weren't fooling yourself, though I did not put it that bluntly. Now I see you posting about coloring pictures in "adult" coloring books. Are you serious? This is kid's stuff!! Play time!! When I think of eremitical life I think of it as the pinnacle of monastic life and perhaps the most sober expression of religious or consecrated life we know. The Church charges hermits with the ministry of prayer and expects hermits to be a sign of the call to "pray always". The Church charged YOU with this ministry and responsibility! How can your director allow this kind of frivolous time wasting? I am not really surprised but I am concerned that what you do passes for either prayer or contemplative life. Surely it is far from the life of real hermits! Does your bishop know about the way you spend your time?]]

Thanks for your observations.  I had hoped the comments I made on the drawings/colorings I shared contextualized why I do what I do --- at least partly. Your comments remind me that I forgot to specifically mention the importance of play in the contemplative life, indeed, in any truly Christian life --- so let me start there! In the post you reference, I spoke of becoming absorbed in various activities as an aid to growing in contemplative prayer; I also spoke of attentiveness and listening, but I did not speak about a very special form of simply being ourselves without pretense or posturing; I did not speak about play. Play, however, is one of the primary places we assume such a position vis-a-vis reality. We play without self-consciousness; in play we quite literally lay aside many of the attitudes we ordinarily let define us --- even as we also learn to embrace those attitudes which are necessary for living full and loving adult lives. What happens in play is something like what happens when we get drawn into Jesus' parables and unburden ourselves of much of the baggage defining our usual existence in order to be drawn actively into the Kingdom story.

In "play" we are simply our truest selves and grow into ourselves in an unplanned, spontaneous way rooted in true obedience (hearkening) to our hearts --- and thus, to the God who dwells there and grounds our Being. When I was a child two forms of play in particular allowed this kind of absorption and "self-emptying": violin (from age 9) --- mainly in the form of improvisation --- and coloring or painting (well before age 9). These also opened me to the experience of transcendence and community (orchestra especially did this latter).

For reasons that are not important here, I left coloring/painting behind while still fairly young and certainly before I was ready. In doing so, I lost not only a personal gift, but a privileged way of playing, creating, and even praying --- and thus of being myself (and vice versa). It was natural in undertaking the inner work I have done over the past couple of years to pick up coloring again as an effective form of play which was aesthetically, intellectually, and emotionally challenging, expressive, and supportive. I had prayed this way as a child (because prayer and play can be interchangeable -- especially for children!), and, some of the time, when things became  particularly difficult with the work I had undertaken, I prayed in this way in the present as well. By the grace of God, this play was a way to personal healing, reconciliation, and communion with God. Not to be too obvious or heavy-handed about this reference, but you will recall that Jesus said, "Unless you become as little children, you shall not enter the Kingdom of Heaven." I think play, the most characteristic form of the utter seriousness (and joy!) of the child, is a symbol of heaven --- of participation in God's own life.

My director knows all this, I think. About 27 years ago she referred to the importance of play; a good friend of hers was reflecting on the reality of play at the time and Sister Marietta mentioned this. We didn't pursue the topic but what she did say struck me and I remembered it. It was only a couple of months ago when, because of the limitations imposed by my broken wrist, I was reflecting with Marietta on my current inability to improvise music on the violin, I came to understand the place improvisation had in being myself in the midst of trauma that militated against this. In the conversation we had that day I described  what "playing violin" meant to me and then, with my own growing awareness of what I was actually saying, I emphasized I also meant "playing" in the more general sense children mean the term when they become absorbed in their blocks, crayons, dolls, action figures, or make-believe worlds.  By extension, and rooted in my own experience, I thus only very recently came to understand conceptually and theologically the potential and meaning of play itself. (In some ways I might not have seen it as clearly as I do now had it not been for your objections about the utter childishness of play and its supposed antipathy to eremitical life!)

But please understand, play is deadly serious stuff! Again, it is the most characteristic form of the utter seriousness (and joy!) of children. Yesterday we heard the Gospel reading where Jesus says, [[“To what shall I compare the people of this generation? What are they like? They are like children who sit in the marketplace and call to one another, ‘We played the flute for you, but you did not dance. We sang a dirge, but you did not weep.’]] When I reflect on that in light of what I have come to know and said here, it occurs to me that the people of  "this" generation to whom Jesus spoke were seen as incapable of or entirely resistant to being themselves in response to whatever "tune" God plays or sings. It is an almost inconceivably tragic portrait of who we have become when the best analogy to that is of children who themselves resist or have actually become incapable of play!

Martin Buber once called play "the exaltation of the possible." The people Jesus was speaking to were incapable of "play," of freedom and spontaneity, of genuine obedience, selflessness, and the kenosis typical of children at play. They could neither dance with the abandon nor give themselves over to grief in the whole-hearted,  unself-conscious way children at play are capable of. Because of their own religious and other baggage they could not put aside their partisanship or their concern for what others thought in order to embrace the new, the possible, the future God desired to create; they could not (let themselves) be the compassionate persons God called them to be in responding to Jesus (or John the Baptist) and the Kingdom messages (kerygma) they proclaimed.

One more story, a story I have told before and recently I think, might also be helpful here. Around 1993 I was working with a young violinist on the Bach Double Violin Concerto. (She had helped me with Scottish Fiddle and was now working with me on Classical violin!) During this time we had a conversation regarding improvisation because both she and I loved to do that (no, not on the Bach Double). In explaining her own experience Laura described seeing "a river of music moving throughout the universe." When she improvised, she said,  she experienced/thought of it as "tapping into that river of music." I told her I knew the same experience except that I called that river "God"! It was while I was sharing this story with my director that I came to understand how "playing" (improvising on) violin, was a way of truly being myself, a way of being open to God, a way of praying. I came to see it had always been a contemplative way of being. In fact, it was the most natural way I knew of doing that --- and I was only seeing this clearly as I dealt with the prospect and pain of perhaps having lost it due to injury. Coloring is a little like that --- as is the absorption of "hobbies" I described in my last post more generally. No pretense, no posturing, just worship -- liturgy -- because yes, I think play is a form of liturgy --- the work/worship/liturgy of Children of God.

You may not agree with all (or any of) this, of course, but I know its truth as do those who share some responsibility for my vocation. My life as a hermit not only makes play possible; it makes it necessary. As Dom Robert Hale, OSB Cam told me a dozen years ago when he looked at the Rule I was submitting before perpetual profession, "Please make sure to build in enough time for recreation (play) and rest!" He was so right!!

Did You Say You Colored?

[[ Hi Sister, I [was] intrigued by your reference to coloring in a post you put up recently. Do you ever share the pictures you color? I would love to see them! I have been involved in the adult coloring movement for several years and especially love the Johanna Basford books. I love the way coloring relaxes me. Do you know these books? . . .How long does it take you to do a picture and what kind of pencils do you use?]] 

 

Yes, I definitely know Johanna Basford's books. During the past year or so (the time I have been coloring) I have colored in two of them, Enchanted Forest, and, The Magic Jungle. One of these pictures from EF is found to the left; it's not the greatest picture, and it has serious flaws in the coloring of the background --- though it shows the layering of several different colors very effectively, but I love the colors nonetheless. One other is found at the very bottom of this post. The other pictures shared below are from Mythomorphia by Kerby Rosanes. I mainly use Prismacolor Premiere (wax-based) pencils --- they blend so well! I find oil-based pencils much harder to achieve the vividness I like. Also, I may just lack sufficient patience in using them since they take much longer to produce their effects than wax-based pencils. Still, I have a small number of Polychromos (oil-based) pencils and have been encouraged by someone who loves them to give them some time and perhaps learn to love them myself. (Given their expense -- I tend to get a few via open stock every six months or so -- it will take a LONG time before I can learn to use them sufficiently well!) 

 

This double page work is a water dragon and a fire dragon. Also done with Prismacolors. I think these two pages took me about a month. Sorry for the glare on the pages but they are protected with a gloss spray (I should have used a matte finish, I guess, but this was on sale!). I had never attempted coloring water before and was trying hard to capture the foam of the waves/water on the water dragon. I have seen fantastic results in this regard (and I could not really duplicate these!) but I am still pretty happy with the results.

The last two Rosanes' pictures involve my first attempts to do a sky at sunset. As I told a friend recently, backgrounds are a real struggle for me. They are something I am learning to do, however. Most pictures take me several days at least and sometimes I have to let them go until I can come back to them with renewed energy (and imagination). Yes, I know folks talk about how relaxing coloring can be. I find it absorbing and these kinds of things can be very helpful to contemplative prayer. (One of the things spiritual directors will often suggest to persons who are beginning their adventure in contemplative prayer is that they regularly do something which is truly absorbing. Some do gardening, some draw or get involved in pottery, or maybe do jigsaw puzzles. The point is to allow oneself to become/be totally present to the reality in front of oneself and (at least implicitly) to entrust one's entire self to God in the process. Learning to listen/attend to whatever comes up during this time is also integral to the process. For me coloring has the added benefit of giving me a way of dealing with chronic pain while I wait for meds to kick in (or not), for instance. As noted below, it also became a significant part of the inner work I began about 2 years ago.

This gnarled guy was challenging. I think there were at least five shades of green used in doing his skin and I kept thinking of the Lord of the Rings Trilogy along with things that were arising in me as a result of the inner work I was doing at the time. (As noted before, there were/are a few "demons" or "monsters" I have or have had to deal with in this work!) This was my very first attempt at a sunset (sunrise?) sky and it is definitely better in terms of gradations than the one above. You can see part of the line drawing of the facing page --- the way this one began, of course.

This Johanna Basford picture, done in January of this year, was modeled on a version I saw done by another colorist; I tried to duplicate the rounded quality of the ring but I also added the moon to the picture as a bid for originality. The texture of the moon's face  worked well in the drawing but is hard to see in this image; this was my first attempt at doing eyes using a bit of white acrylic paint. I  used black acrylic paint over colored pencil for the night sky.

I have been asked in the past if hermits have hobbies. Well, these (along with violin) are examples of mine! Holy leisure!

Welcome Back!! (And a Bit on the Exaltation of the Cross)

[[Dear Sister Laurel, I wanted to sort of "welcome you back". It's nice to see you writing once again. I know you never really quit, but you were posting infrequently over the past couple of years and I missed being able to read you. Are you going to be posting as you have over the past couple of weeks as time moves on or is this flurry anomalous? I wondered too if you preached on the exaltation of the cross last Friday? You do the service at your parish on Fridays, don't you? Did you share this already?]]

Many thanks for your "welcome back"! It's a bit stunning to hear from someone who  has kept track of some of the patterns of my life as you have. I don't know how frequently I will be writing here. It really depends on whether folks ask questions and also whether I have anything new to say. Sometimes I am just all "written out", so to speak; other times I am sure that what is of interest to me is not of interest to others. And sometimes what is happening to me in my life prevents me from doing much writing. The inner work I have spoken of has been intense and absorbing but it also sometimes made it hard to know what to share and what not to share. Some things are simply not edifying, and certainly not when one is in the middle of processing them. It takes some distance in order to have the perspective which allows one to write about them in a way which might be of assistance to others. Finally, my broken wrist is mainly healed. The bones have been entirely healed for more than a month but tendons and ligaments were also torn or sprained and those have taken way more time to heal. Even so, my typing is back up to speed so writing is much easier. It may be this recent flurry is anomalous, the result of feeling freer and relatively well; I don't know. We'll see though.

Yes, I did do the service last Friday. Because I had also done services with regard to readings focused on the foolishness of God being wiser than the wisdom of men or the paradox of Christianity, I was thinking along the lines of the way the cross is ordinarily scandalous or how it is that something so awful has become a symbol of the greatest victory of Love we have ever known. Friday's first reading prepared us for this great shift. You may recall it was the story of the serpent being lifted up on a staff and becoming a symbol of hope. I began by wondering how people would react if I were to say one of our students had accidentally let a snake loose in the chapel the night before and we were unable to find it. The reaction was pretty immediate and people shivered, picked up their feet, or exclaimed with feelings of fear and revulsion. I then explained the way the cross had been seen in Jesus's day -- the way it produced even stronger immediate visceral reactions of fear and revulsion.

The idea that such a symbol of cruelty, criminality, failure, human "justice" (oppression, repression), and godlessness could be transformed into the symbol of God's decisive victory over sin and evil, a symbol of God's abiding presence in the unexpected and even the unacceptable place, an entirely new way of  understanding God's mercy as his justice, is hard to imagine; and yet, it is what we celebrate on the Feast of the Exaltation (or Triumph) of the Cross. I outlined this and then read a passage I have shared before -- both here and there. It is taken from John Dwyer's Son of Man and Son of God, A New Language for Faith and is simply the most powerful presentation of what occurs on the cross or why we exalt it I have ever heard or read:

[[Through Jesus, the broken being of the world enters the personal life of the everlasting God, and this God shares in the broken being of the world. God is eternally committed to this world, and this commitment becomes full and final in his personal presence within this weak and broken man on the cross. In him the eternal one takes our destiny upon himself --- a destiny of estrangement, separation, meaninglessness, and despair. But at this moment the emptiness and alienation that mar and mark the human situation become once and for all, in time and eternity, the ways of God. God is with this broken man in suffering and in failure, in darkness and at the edge of despair, and for this reason suffering and failure, darkness and hopelessness will never again be signs of the separation of man from God. God identifies himself with the man on the cross, and for this reason everything we think of as manifesting the absence of God will, for the rest of time, be capable of manifesting his presence --- up to and including death itself.]]

He continues,

[[Jesus is rejected and his mission fails, but God participates in this failure, so that failure itself can become a vehicle of his presence, his being here for us. Jesus is weak, but his weakness is God's own, and so weakness itself can be something to glory in. Jesus' death exposes the weakness and insecurity of our situation, but God made them his own; at the end of the road, where abandonment is total and all the props are gone, he is there. At the moment when an abyss yawns beneath the shaken foundations of the world and self, God is there in the depths, and the abyss becomes a ground. Because God was in this broken man who died on the cross, although our hold on existence is fragile, and although we walk in the shadow of death all the days of our lives, and although we live under the spell of a nameless dread against which we can do nothing, the message of the cross is good news indeed: rejoice in your fragility and weakness; rejoice even in that nameless dread because God has been there and nothing can separate you from him. It has all been conquered, not by any power in the world or in yourself, but by God. When God takes death into himself it means not the end of God but the end of death.]] (pp. 182-83)

On Responding to Undefined Lay Vocations

[[Dear Sister Laurel, I've been following your blog for some time and find it very helpful and life-giving. I've been especially interested in how you balance health issues with your eremitical vocation, as health problems over the past few years have changed my external life greatly, diminishing my career and physical activities, but leading to an unexpected deepening of my spiritual life. I was struck by something you said in a recent post, which prompted me to write:

 

"The importance of the solitary eremitical vocation as a call to personal wholeness in the midst of a world which pulls towards fragmentation, isolation, and inauthenticity cannot be overstated, I think."

 

       Although I'm not discerning a vocation as a hermit, this call to person(al) wholeness in a fragmented world is one I feel as well, and I think many lay people do. I would even call it a sense of vocation, though what I'm called to is unclear. I find that there is a quality of religious life, and in your description of your eremitical vocation, that calls me as a lay person. I think it is something in the intentional living of a deepening relationship with God, with the recognition of the gifts that offers to oneself, the community, and the world, that resonates very much with my own emerging sense of vocation. The pull I feel now is to ground myself in a mature, sustaining commitment and rhythm in my relationship with God.
          You articulate your vocation and how you live it so clearly, and from such a depth of lived experience, that I was curious how you might answer this questions: How can lay prople, who feel called to be lay people, respond to this type of undefined vocation in a tangible way? The closest I have found to what I mean is the commitment made by people who are oblate associates to an order, but I am not sure this is what I am seeking.]]

Many thanks for your questions and for your permission to use what you have written here. I decided to mainly post it all without much redaction because of its clarity and importance. What I especially appreciate about it is your esteem for the lay vocation and how clearly you state your own determination to remain a lay person as you respond to God's call to personal wholeness and holiness. This determination and sense of call is something the Church has sought to inculcate with Vatican II and she has thus fostered values lay persons are called to embrace as they witness to or preach the Gospel with their lives to and from within the world at large. 

The call to authentic humanity is the foundational vocation of every human being. The things we often call vocations, religious life, marriage, eremitical life, priesthood, etc., are pathways to this foundational vocation. To say one is called to marriage, priesthood, hermit life, etc., is a shorthand way of saying we are called to achieve the fullness of humanity in this way, via this pathway. You have a strong sense of this, I think, and you are sensitive to the way this truth resonates within you. You also  state very clearly what needs to grow in every vocation, whether lay, religious, consecrated, or ordained, namely, one's conscious relationship with God.

Growth in this relationship (the foundation of a universal call to holiness!) has certain tried and true means. While these are open to anyone they are (and have been) most often associated with religious and ordained life, and unfortunately, are subsequently seen as ways lay persons (vocationally speaking) are merely "trying to act" as religious or priests or they are things which are (mistakenly!) seen as unnecessary to lay life. The Church once fostered a relatively elitist view of such things. So, for instance, even today we are used to religious having spiritual directors but see that relatively few lay persons understand this as necessary for their lives; we understand when religious or priests spend time each day doing lectio divina or Scripture study but we tend to see these as unnecessary for the lay vocation (except for the "super religious!" or those without children, demanding work, etc.). Regular prayer (a true prayer life!) is understood similarly and lay persons may attend daily Mass and pray before or after that as well, but more than this? A number of lay persons have become involved in centering prayer and discovered their own call to contemplative prayer, but I think this is still woefully underrepresented among those with a vocation to the lay state of life. Programs offering spiritual development and enrichment are available everywhere but still, despite VII and the catechesis done after that, the majority of participants either remain religious or a very small minority of the laity.

My own preference is to see every lay person participating in a spiritual direction relationship, reading Scripture daily, and praying regularly (morning and night plus meals). I would like to see every lay person totally conversant with what the Church taught about the laity and the universal call to holiness in the Documents of Vatican II (Apostolicam Actuositatem, for instance).  I would like to see them deeply imbued with the Holy Spirit and a dynamic sense that they are the heart of the Church while those of us who are religious, hermits, priests are neither more (nor less) Catholic than the laity, nor necessarily more (nor less) spiritual, etc. Still, it is a matter of priorities and choice, and most often, though all of these things are presented today as realities the Church wishes lay persons to embrace, they are things the majority still can't find the time for -- or deep down don't really believe is "their place".  The truth is, however, that these kinds of things are part and parcel of an absorbing, transforming, and entirely normal relationship with God. They are part of the kind of relationship you have described --- and which the world needs desperately not merely from Religious or priests, but especially from those whose vocations are meant to transform the saeculum, the everyday world of work and family and academy into instances of the Kingdom of God.

You have mentioned health problems. These may limit you in significant ways, but they may also free you to cultivate your relationship with God and find ways of serving the Gospel which are especially significant for you and those whose lives you touch. You may have passions for various things that can be used to serve the proclamation of the Gospel with your life. One of the areas of theology that most interests me is that regarding the vocation to chronic illness. It is not that I believe God wills illness, but absolutely I believe God calls us to wholeness in Him in spite of our illness. As noted in another post, my profession/life motto is Paul's quotation from 2 Cor 12:9, "My grace is sufficient for you; my power is made perfect in weakness." I believe that the Church does relatively well with ministry to the acutely ill, and less well with a ministry to the chronically ill, but I believe the Church has entirely failed to create a ministry OF the chronically ill. Here I am thinking of the chronically ill sharing the wisdom of their faith and experience, but especially the paradoxical truth of the Gospel Paul expresses, for instance. In a world geared to productivity and competition, those who are ill cannot participate in the same way. The rhythm, priorities, and energies of their lives differ from those of the  majority. By definition their lives are countercultural and can witness to a Gospel that is itself the epitome of the countercultural.

I think each of us learns to live and will thus mature in the foundational relationship we have with God in combination with the specific or concrete circumstances of our lives. When we do that our vocation begins to be clearer and clearer, more and more explicit. It will always represent an incarnation of both of these dimension of one's life. Thomas Merton spoke of hermits giving people hope about certain truths of nature and grace; he was correct in this but it is also true that every vocation witnesses to a hope which comes from the meeting of nature and grace and the transformation of the ordinary into something genuinely sacramental. Lay vocations are meant to do this in the everyday world mentioned above, the world of work, family, economics, political activity, etc. In these various dimensions of the saeculum lay persons witness to what is means to be authentically human and to bring the values and dynamics of the Kingdom of God into these same dimensions. So, let me encourage you to take the time and effort required to let your relationship with God develop --- to deepen and extend itself in the ways God wills for you for the sake of his Gospel and Kingdom. As you do this the concrete shape of your call to authentic and full humanity will also develop and God's own dreams for you and all whom you touch will be realized.

Again, thanks for your questions. I hope this is helpful, but if I have been unclear I hope you will let me know that; I will clarify as possible.

On Constraints and Authentic Freedom

Hi Sister, I wondered why you define freedom the way you do. I was thinking about being the persons we are called to be in spite of the constraints of our lives and that doesn't seem like freedom to me. If God calls us to something and we do that, then how does that represent "authentic freedom"? How can having constraints or being constrained represent freedom?]]

These are good questions. Let me explain why it makes theological sense to me, generally speaking --- and perhaps with reference to my own personal story as well if that will illustrate things more clearly. When theologians think about the human situation we think about the condition of sin as a state of being bound by conditions which prevent us from being the persons we are made and called by God to be. Sin is a state of being estranged and alienated from God, from one's deepest Self, and from others; it is a state in which we are not free to love as we are meant to love and may even be hostile as well as resistant to this love. We are constrained by the situation (of sin) and prevented from being the person we are most profoundly and truly meant to be. It is only when we are loved by God in a way which empowers us to achieve who we are potentially, who we are made and called to be, that we begin to know real freedom --- and also, therefore, genuine happiness. Freedom always has to do with being our truest selves; the bondage of sin prevents this. This is the principal reason we speak of sin (hamartia, 'αμαρτια) as falling short. Thus, authentic freedom is something God empowers; it represents freedom from whatever prevents us from living the truth of ourselves and freedom for the fulfillment of our most profound or ultimate human potentiality.

Some constraints then, are disastrous for our humanity, but not all constraints are disastrous or even necessarily destructive. All of us have limits with which we must live: age, health, family, material wealth or poverty, intelligence, education or lack thereof, and so forth. These things serve as constraints, but at the same time they need not prevent us from becoming the persons we are called/meant to be. For instance, we may not have much money, our health may be poor, we may be lousy students or have failed in a string of business ventures; we may have come from a dysfunctional family which made maturing into adulthood a greater task than ordinarily is the case, and we may live in neighborhoods without access to cultural treasure, and be constrained in many other ways besides, but if we come to know the love of God we will be empowered to become our truest selves nonetheless.

In light of this love we will even find that those things which constrain us (and perhaps once constrained us in ways which limited us as persons) become sources of grace instead. With grace we transcend (though do not necessarily lose) the limits that constrain us. In my own life chronic illness once constrained me in ways which seemed to prevent my ability to grow in the various ways I believed I needed and certainly desired to grow. However, in light of God's love for me chronic illness has proven to be a significant way I came to know the truth of Paul's saying, "My grace is sufficient for you, my power is perfected in weakness." Vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience created constraints which also opened me more fully to the love of God. My Rule envisions a life marked by constraints, but one which is above all a life of authentic freedom --- or it could not be my vocation! Last week my parish's daily Mass community heard the Beatitudes during a Mass geared to one class of our school children; the essential message of this text was and is, Blessed (happy!) are you who feel the many constraints (forms of limit and loss) that touch human beings living in space and time, for they actually make it possible for you to come to know the happiness and freedom of God's sovereignty.

When I wrote last week here I spoke about "natural" forms of suffering Douglas John Hall noted in God and Human Suffering: temptation, anxiety, loneliness, and limits. These make transcendence, communion, security, peace, joy, and surprise possible for us. They are constraints which are part of our coming to the fullness or abundant life of humanity. In God these specific forms of suffering becomes sources or means of blessing. Imagine what it would be like to have none of these (or any!) constraints! If one is never lonely, neither can one be aware of a yearning or need for communion; without limits --- if, that is, one has whatever one wants whenever one wants it --- one never comes to know joy or surprise (or patience, or excitement!); if one is not tempted one may never be stretched to turn to God in dependence or otherwise grow in character. Unless one knows anxiety, neither will one ever come to know genuine security in God or the peace and wholeness which is the result of life in and from (Him).

We cannot do away with all constraints, nor should we try. We exist as historical people: we are embodied (and made to be embodied, even in eternity) and we exist in space and time (all of which are constraints and the source of further constraints). But the love of God can empower us to transcend the constraints which condition our lives and discover the seeds of true personhood within or through them. It is this transcendence empowered by God as Love-in-Act which is the very essence of becoming the persons God calls us to be and the essence of that which Christians identify as authentic freedom and beatitude. Moreover, as described in the last paragraph, the absence of constraints can, according to the analysis of Douglas John Hall's work on "natural" or existential forms of suffering, make us incapable of becoming the persons God has made and summons us to be. This is another paradox which is critical to the way we define authentic freedom and the way it is often opposed to license.

I sincerely hope this is helpful! Let me know if it raises more questions or is unclear in some way and I will give it another shot!

A Contemplative Moment: "For Suffering"

"For Suffering" from

To Bless the Space Between Us, A Book of Blessings

by John O'Donohue

May you be blessed in the holy names of those

Who, without you knowing it,

Help to carry and lighten your pain.

May you know serenity

When you are called

to enter the house of suffering.

May a window of light always surprise you.

May you be granted the wisdom

To avoid false resistance;

When suffering knocks on the door of your life,

May you glimpse its eventual gifts.

May you be able to receive the fruits of suffering.

May memory bless and protect you

With the hard-earned light of past travail;

To remind you that you have survived before

And though the darkness now is deep,

You will soon see approaching light.

May the grace of time heal your wounds.

May you know that though the storm might rage,

Not a hair of your head will be harmed.

On Ongoing and Serious Discernment Post-Perpetual Eremitical Profession

[[Dear Sister Laurel,  As I read your last post (cf.,September 4, 2018), I was struck by how much discernment you were engaged in. I think most people think of discernment as something one does at the beginning of a vocation but once one reaches profession and especially perpetual profession there won't be any more serious discernment required regarding vocation itself. But that's clearly not true, is it?

I also see much more clearly the role of your director/delegate in assisting you to live out this vocation more fully. There is a real partnership between the two of you which benefits the c 603 vocation as well as your own personal vocation. You have written about this before but this made the picture so much clearer for me! I wondered if you could say more about solitude and the work you have undertaken with Sister M. It seems to me that your relationship and work with her underscores the difference between isolation and solitude. But at the same time your work with her must take you out of the hermitage and away from the silence of solitude frequently. How does this work? Do you think you are changing the idea of what eremitical life is or requires?]]

Many thanks for your observations and questions; the last is a huge one! Yes, throughout the work with my director, but especially during the first year there was a fair amount of vocational discernment going on. That first year critical questions were raised with a new intensity: Was my commitment to eremitical life rooted in God's call or in my own brokenness or woundedness? Or, and this is what was reaffirmed in new and compelling ways, "Is my call a paradox rooted in both of these as my motto reminds me: 'My grace is sufficient for you; my power is made perfect in weakness.'" In the second year those initial questions quieted some as I worked through other things, and then, in the first months of the third year of work, I experienced a critical piece of healing coupled with a renewed or even increased excitement over canon 603 and it's adequacy and importance in nurturing  solitary eremitical vocations. My own passion re this canon and my experience of spending the last decade and more "unpacking" it in my own life plus the way an eremitical life made the inner work both possible and morally obligatory was strengthened throughout these past years; it also seems to have led to insights I can share with those involved in the discernment and formation of such vocations.

What is true is that once one has made perpetual profession one can generally rest in the assurance that one need not do continuing discernment over whether one has this vocation or not. Everyone has weighed in and found that one does. But there are several reasons eremitical life may need to be discerned anew: 1) it is rare and few are called to live a life of the silence of solitude; solitude comes in many forms, most of them transitional or temporary. It might not be unheard of to mistake this for a life calling, particularly if one is thriving in it. 2) the same circumstances that contribute to the making of the heart of a hermit can make one unsuited for such a call; while I think the difference is fairly easy to discern in most cases, I can think of a few where new information makes this less facile. 3) the eremitical life is a call to the privilege of love; its solitude is a rare form of community. If one undertakes personal/inner work which opens one to more common forms of loving, being loved, and participating in community, one will need to look again at one's vocational path. We are ALWAYS called to abundant human life -- that foundational vocation does not change --- but the path to achieving this can change. One must be sure one is responding appropriately --- especially when eremitical life is such an atypical route to human wholeness and holiness.

Working Within the Hermitage:

My work with Sister Marietta does not take me out of the hermitage, at least not usually. She comes here for our meetings and has done that for at least the last 15 years or so. Similarly, when I used to meet with the Vicar for Religious when first becoming a hermit, Sister Susan also drove here from the chancery. (Now that she is co-delegate and on her congregation's leadership team (Vicar) she still will drive here from her Motherhouse in Redwood City when that is possible; unfortunately, because she does not reside in Redwood City but lives down the coast, we don't get to see each other frequently or even often; usually these days we talk by phone!) My relationships with Sisters Marietta and Susan have underscored the distinction between isolation and eremitical solitude, just as you say. My work with Marietta has led to changes in the degree of physical solitude I have experienced for the time being, but at the same time it has emphasized the way I come to wholeness in the silence of solitude and eremitical prayer. The work I have done with Sister Marietta is mainly done alone in the time between our appointments -- though she has been uniquely supportive of and present to/for me as I have needed.

Yes, this work with an accompanist and the delegate's role generally tend to be ones of real partnership. In c 603 life one reason this is true is because both the delegate and the hermit are responsible not only for the hermit's own vocation, but for the c 603 vocation itself. (This latter commitment on the hermit's part can also be part of what motivates her to continue discerning her own vocation even after perpetual profession; she is concerned that c 603 vocations be authentic and well-discerned!) But the partnership involved means that the hermit will do all she has committed to do in her profession, and her delegate will be there for her whenever needed and as that is possible. When the diocese asked me to select a delegate they wanted someone who would serve as a "quasi-superior." Over time Sisters Marietta and Susan and I have talked about this and the way the delegate(s)  should function in my life; at the same time my relationship with Marietta has changed, my own religious (eremitical) life has matured, and the way obedience is exercised between us generally involves mutual discussion of needs, limits, and perceptions. I attend to my life and to the God who is sovereign over that life; Marietta does the same. Together we work for my own well-being and (usually implicitly) the well-being of the diocesan hermit vocation.

Changing the Idea of Eremitical Life?

So, as to your last question, do I think I am changing the idea of what eremitical life is or requires? No, not really. Throughout the history of eremitical life hermits have always had elders or mentors to whom they could turn at need for instruction, words of encouragement, correction, and challenge. This was true in the deserts of Nitria and Scete; it was true in medieval times when hermits went to bishops for supervision and support. If you have read St Francis of Assisi's Rule for hermits/hermitages you may remember that Francis outlined a situation of three persons, four at most, two of whom served as "Mother" to the others. These brothers also had "custos" or superiors. It was the task of the "Mothers" to guard and otherwise serve the Sons as Martha served Jesus and Mary in the gospel parable. Roles were changed after some time of guaranteed silence, solitude, and contemplation with the brothers taking turns as "Sons" or "Mothers". Both Sons and Mothers lived in solitude, in this arrangement but it seems that the solitude of the "Sons" was stricter with the "Mothers" keeping people away from the "Sons".

The overall point here, and something which is emphasized in Canon 603 is that hermits require supervision, direction, and sometimes, the kind of accompaniment I have been afforded by my own director. Francis was not timid about using the term "Mothers" for those who served the "Sons" and their vocations in the way Francis' Rule outlined. There is an incredible intimacy and necessary dependency fostering maturation in solitude necessary in Francis' vision of eremitical life. It was a true partnership, and, since the roles could and would be reversed, one marked by the equality of peers. I think, unfortunately, that we think of hermits in more individualistic terms than is often healthy -- often because we equate solitude with physical solitude rather than with the intimacy of communion with God. But hermits are not called simply to "do their own things"; they are called to negotiate to demands of life "with God alone" and that requires assistance (which means it requires forms of community) even as the relationship (community) is lived in the silence of solitude.