Are Hermits a Sign of Hope in this Time of Pandemic?

[[Sister Laurel, I bet you never saw it coming that hermits would be a sign of hope during a time or mandatory sheltering-in-place! Do you see yourself in this way?]]

Thanks for writing. Yes, you are certainly correct in your observation! Of course I am terribly sad that the situation the world finds itself in exists at all, but it is also true that the witness of hermits has a relevance which is more direct and vivid than ordinarily. As already noted, two or three weeks ago I was "interviewed" by a journalist, and while she asked several questions about eremitical life itself, what was eventually published was some of what I said about loneliness and dealing with loneliness. This simply had a greater relevance than would ordinarily be the case. Hermits deal with loneliness (though it is not something we feel all the time!) in two main senses: 1) simple loneliness, which occurs when one experiences something wonderful, beautiful, and/or inspiring and simply wishes to share that with someone. This form of loneliness is natural for every human being and points to the fact that we are made for love and are capable of loving God, ourselves, and others. We know we are made for love, and especially that we are made for God so loneliness as a natural dimension of our existence is not hard to understand.

The second form of loneliness, and one I think is far less common among hermits, is a more complicated or even "malignant" (my word) loneliness that points to forms of emptiness which are not simply natural. They stem from woundedness and the various failures people meet through their lives to be adequately loved and respected, nurtured and nourished. My impression is that folks ordinarily cover the pain of these kinds of wounds with all kinds of addictions and "isms": workaholism, shopaholism, alcoholism, drugs, sex, etc. But during a time of "lockdown" some of these "defenses" simply can't work and our woundedness is exposed and intensified. Sometimes it is simply that the things which allow us to feel successful or that give our lives meaning are taken from us, and the pain of woundedness may become clearer or more intense than usual. Enforced solitude is certainly a way of tearing the masks from our woundedness and while it may increase our more natural loneliness the real "problem" is the fact that it deprives us of some of the various ways we have covered over our profound woundedness.

Solitude, and especially eremitical solitude, requires we face ourselves. We do that in prayer, in spiritual direction, in lectio divina, in study, in recreation, and in our relationships with others. At the same time it allows us to seek, meet, and come to know and be known by the God who is Love-in-Act. In some ways both of these are necessary to truly come to know ourselves; if we know ourselves apart form the love of God, we are apt to have skewed senses of who we are --- either arrogant overestimations of our worth, or sad and shame-based senses of our inferiority and worthlessness.

Humility, a grounded form of loving honesty about ourselves and others, a form of honesty capable of seeing who we truly are and the dignity we truly possess as beloved of God is one of the fruits of eremitical solitude and the necessary work a hermit does in direction, etc. My main theology prof used to use the phrase, "when all the props are kicked out" in teaching about Paul's theology of the Cross. Physical solitude (and especially eremitical solitude) presents us with a situation in which "all the props are kicked out" and we can meet ourselves and God anew. Thus, in time it also provides the context in which we may be healed and made whole (holy) by the love of God. In other words, when all the props are kicked out, our God is there for us and our lives are truly meaningful. That is the nature of hope.

Of course I think hermits can say to folks --- not to worry, you can do this without becoming an alcoholic or lapsing into insanity! At the same time we have to say, "But remember, I can't do this without God and neither can you!! I can't do this without support from my pastor, spiritual director, and friends (emails are precious!) and neither can you get by without support!!!" Hope is the way we measure time in terms of futurity. Does our present see the inbreaking of real future/futurity or is it without this vision? What hermits say is that lives of eremitical solitude are shot through with a sense of real futurity, and therefore, with real hope. Our lives are not meaningless; indeed they are incredibly meaningful and full of joy. Every day brings new discoveries, about ourselves, our God, those we love, and the world around us; what we let go of in order to embrace eremitical solitude was and is indeed sacrificial, but what we have been given in place of that is beyond counting or telling.

Solitude is an opportunity to share in some of this in ways which are not as possible without solitude. Especially, learning to love ourselves as God loves us -- without masks, without props, is the one thing solitude gives us an opportunity for. How our world would change if we could each and all come to this new humility!!

Questions: Eremitical Life as a Guide in Time of Pandemic?

In the middle of April I was interviewed for The Catholic Register in Toronto. A portion of that was on loneliness and that was what found its way into the published article. The main portion, however, I am posting here because the journalist had a sense that hermits might have something significant to say to those still on lock-down in light of this pandemic. I think she's right and her questions serve as a kind of introduction to my understanding of eremitical life.

            1) [[What is your daily life like within the hermitage? I.e. do you leave the hermitage, do you live with others, what is your daily work like?]] 

Life in Stillsong is divided between prayer, study (Scripture, Theology), writing (including journaling, blogging, and some more academic writing) work with clients or my own spiritual direction (every other week I meet with clients and/or with my own director; alternate weeks are mainly without clients), and everyday chores and recreation. I ordinarily leave the hermitage for Mass on Sundays and a couple of days during the week, a Scripture class I teach at my parish, normal errands (shopping, doctors’ appointments, etc.), and some extraordinary events at the parish. I am not a recluse; I am a significant part of the life of others and they are a critical and inalienable part of my own life --- even in my physical solitude. Thus, the focus and majority of my time is spent in what canon 603 refers to as “the silence of solitude”, that is, in communion with God (which requires time and space alone) for the sake not only of my own genuine selfhood but for the sake of others. While I live in a senior complex, I also live alone.

           2) [[I'm interested in what advice you might have for the people quarantined inside their       houses during the current pandemic. I wonder if you have any insights on how they could experience solitude and enclosure not as a negative force, but rather as an opportunity for growth. How does solitude make you feel more connected, and even joyful? What advice do you have for others experiencing social isolation/quarantine - how can they make the most of their situation?]]

Perhaps the best I can do here is to begin by affirming why I live in solitude (rather than in isolation) (Let me first say that I see being isolated as more than mere physical solitude; it means being personally, not just physically separated from others, perhaps because of self-centeredness, misanthropy, etc. Thus I don’t use it as a term to describe eremitical solitude.}

 A medically and surgically intractable seizure disorder and chronic pain isolated me and in some ways prevented my doing what I had planned to do with my life. Becoming a person of prayer (one who is loved by and loves God in a conscious, dedicated way) transformed isolation into solitude and I came to embrace this as away of life. I did so because over time it became clear that my life is immeasurably meaningful apart from the standards ordinarily driving us, namely work or career, wealth, “success”, and so forth. We all know we need some degree of physical solitude to be healthy, but when things like this pandemic rob us of the things which ordinarily make our lives feel meaningful it is important to recognize how truly valuable we are in and of ourselves (in light of the love of God). Physical solitude is an opportunity to discover or strengthen our sense of this truth and to be there for one another in new ways. It is a way of maintaining a truly human perspective  re all of reality. This will include loving and affirming the value of every other person when they are unable to measure their lives in more usual senses, when they seem to have nothing to recommend them in terms of career, wealth, success, expertise, etc.

 There are concrete steps anyone needs to take to live physical solitude fruitfully. Regularity and balance are two of these. A hermit has to learn to balance all the necessary parts of her life, the things without which she cannot be healthy or fully human. Most fundamentally this means beginning and ending everything with prayer, not in the sense of saying prayers before and after everything (though we certainly might do this), but in the sense of beginning and ending with our experience of God’s love, our experience of loving and being loved, in all of the ways that comes to us in solitude (formal prayer, connection with others, reading Scripture, connection with nature, care for all dimensions of self – physical, spiritual, intellectual, relational, etc.). Another way of saying this is to affirm the need to (learn to) give ourselves permission to love and be loved  especially when we are separated from our usual ways of knowing and valuing ourselves through work, career, earning power, status, etc.  It therefore also means creating a schedule where things have their necessary place and developing new habits and priorities which are truly loving for ourselves, those with whom we live, and those around us. Some concrete suggestions common to monastic and eremitical life/Catholic Tradition include:

·     As possible, take time to get to know yourself, God and your loved ones apart from the props of career, status, etc. the pandemic strips each of us of some of these things. Trust that is an opportunity.

·     Take time to pray, to think, and especially to reflect on our world and those who are suffering.

·     Take time to truly recreate, not merely to distract, but to enliven and revitalize. Do this with others as possible and desirable. Talk with each other. Watch a movie together, play board games.

·     Allow time together to be as sacred as it would be at Mass. Especially do this with meals and recreation together. Solitude is about communion, not isolation. Counter isolation with genuine community and develop the new habits needed to do this in the future. Find ways to truly say what is most important and deepest within yourself. The present moment is what we have.

In so far as we touch and continue to touch into the ways we are truly and deeply loved by God (and others), we will be more resilient and creative in this new normal. Everyday practices (making beds, doing dishes, mopping floors, meal times) will be done more attentively and take on a new importance and “fullness.” Everything becomes an opportunity for reflecting on and growing in love; more and more, nothing is “ordinary” any longer. This is the deeper meaning of “making everything a prayer.” Because everything can be transformed in this way, this is the reason hermits, among others, give priority to reading Scripture, and formal prayer in its many forms. We witness to the power of these things to heal and literally inspire genuine humanity.

3. How has isolation helped you deal with suffering? Right now, many people in quarantine are struggling with domestic abuse or suffering from mental health problems - do you have any insights as to how isolation could heal, rather than exacerbate, this suffering?

Here in Stillsong illness and suffering still “get in the way of things.” Even so suffering is part of my life and more generally I am comforted in that suffering by the love of God. This means that while suffering may get in the way of this or that specific activity, it does not get in the way of my life per se.  I think this is actually the witness a hermit’s life gives to the power of God’s love. 

It has taken real work to learn that even significant and isolating suffering is a piece of my life that can still be “engaged in lovingly” and even fruitfully, but one can learn that one is loved and can love oneself in spite of suffering that would ordinarily feel dehumanizing. My life is still infinitely meaningful in light of God’s love and can even be a source of inspiration or edification to others --- not merely because of the suffering involved, but because there is something far more primary for me, namely my (growing) ability to love and be loved in light of God’s love. Once one sees this a number of things happen. Among them, 1) one values oneself no matter what, 2) one come to see others as equally precious, and 3) One experiences one’s fundamental  unity with others and will work to enhance that as possible. When this is true the world becomes an incredibly wonder-full place and  belonging to it (even in physical solitude) a source of joy. 

+       Treat this time of enforced solitude as an opportunity to suffer honestly, without denial or   self-pity. Allow it to be an opportunity to accept whatever limitations and weaknesses are ours.
      Treat it as a chance to drop masks even as we don medical masks.
      Learn to ask for help and to grow in compassion.

 I can’t speak very effectively here to those in situations of abuse any more than by reiterating what I have said above about giving oneself permission to learn to love and be loved (by God, self, and others) in spite of what is an awful continuing reality God does NOT will.  I will say that one needs to get whatever help one can in learning to truly love oneself. There are online resources that can assist one here and some of the things I do regularly myself can be of assistance; journaling, for instance, taking time for oneself (taking walks, exercise, forms of lone recreation that allow one to relax and decompress, etc). Abusers need to do the same kinds of things, perhaps even more urgently because solitude is a demanding context which will break down as well as build up.  That causes a new kind of stress folks will need to learn to deal with. While I do see this as an opportunity to learn new ways of responding rather than reacting with violence and abuse, I also believe one will ordinarily need some help in negotiating this creatively and needs to seek that out online, etc.

 For those dealing with mental illness my advice has to be equally general: treat this pandemic as an opportunity to give yourself permission to love and be loved by a God Who is bigger than even this awful situation. This remains the foundational imperative for every person in this situation. The other suggestions are also important.  Let the stresses of the world’s expectations and ways of seeing reality become less important to you if you can. Do all you need to do to be truly good to yourself. Seek what help is available to deal with your illness, but also hear that you are someone God holds as precious and loves infinitely. Give God permission to do this. Trust that this is what God wills for you, not illness. Know that everyone touched by this pandemic has been disoriented by it; this is normal. Everyone is building new habits, learning new ways  to truly be themselves and relate to others. Those already working with mental illness may actually be ahead of the game here.

How Do We Live as House Churches When We Live Alone?

Dear Sister, how is it a person living alone can be part of a "house church" or "domestic church"? Our parish has a lot of people who live alone. How is it they can feel part of the church when they are isolated because of COVID-19? Are you suggesting people should think of themselves as hermits?

Really good question! This problem of living alone and still being an integral part of the faith community is something hermits have had to deal with throughout the history of eremitical life. It is a constant tension in the eremitical life, and something every Christian hermit learns to live well, or cease to be a true hermit. (They might instead be a lone individual, but not a hermit.) One of the Saints associated with Camaldolese Benedictinism is Peter Damian and he wrote a really significant letter (#28) in response to a very similar question. It is sometimes called "The Lord Be With You" (Dominus Vobiscum) letter because it was occasioned by someone asking what they did with certain prayers during liturgy when they referred or were actually directed to other people. While the question was prompted by a narrowly defined situation it really leads to considerations of the validity of eremitical life, the ecclesiality of such a life, and also more general questions on the nature of being church when physical isolation is required. As you can imagine given your own questions, while Peter Damian wrote during the 11th and 12th centuries, this specific issue is quite contemporary.

Peter Damian's response is summarized in the following statement: [[(11) Truly the Church of Christ is so joined together by the bond of love that in many it is one, and in each it is mystically complete. Thus we at once observe that the whole Church is rightly called the one and only bride of Christ, and we believe each individual soul, by the mystery of baptism, to be the whole Church.]] A bit later, Damian writes, [[(13) And so we can conclude from what was said above that since the whole Church is symbolized in the person of one individual, and since, moreover, the Church is said to be a virgin, holy Church is both one in all and complete in each of them; that is to say, simple in many by reason of the unity of faith, and multiple in each through the bond of love and the various charismatic gifts, since all are from one, and all are one. . . .  (15) If they are one who believe in Christ, then wherever an individual member is physically present, there too the whole body is present, there too the whole body is present by reason of the sacramental mystery. And whatever is fitting for the whole, is in some way fitting for each part, so that it is not out of the question for an individual to say what the assembly of the Church says together, just as that which an individual properly utters may also be voiced by many without reproach.]] 

Some folks  may want to think of themselves as hermits for the time being, but since being a hermit really includes a commitment to long-term silence and solitude (and even to growing to reach fullness of humanity in and even as the silence of solitude) most will not find this fits for them. Still, what does fit universally is that each person by virtue of their baptism/Christian initiation is called to come to see themselves as Church, and to allow themselves to live from the same sources the Church lives, especially the Scriptures, liturgical (liturgy of the hours) and private prayer, and mealtimes celebrated as Eucharistic moments.

One of the dimensions of my own eremitical life I write about a lot is its ecclesial character. Because I am consecrated by God through the mediation of the Church, this partly has to do with its canonical nature and the fact that I am called and missioned by the Church to live eremitical life in her Name. Still, given the current pandemic and the fact that each and all of us are called by the Church to shelter-in-place and to be Church in enforced solitude, we must be able to see this ecclesial dimension as a call coming with our own baptism. While this does not mean folks are necessarily called to be hermits, and especially not consecrated/canonical hermits, nevertheless the call is profoundly ecclesial in its own way: if we live alone each of us is called, at this time and place, to live solitude in the name of the Church by virtue of our Lay/baptismal standing.

Every home in our parish, for instance, (and in fact, in our diocese), is called to represent the life of the Church in the fullest way possible without access to Eucharist. This is a challenge Vatican II stressed in its valuing of Lay life. The catch-phrase, "We ARE Church!" was meant to capture this sense in opposition to standard usage identifying the clergy/hierarchy as "the Church". Today, when ordained clergy have been rendered much less effective given our mandatory social-distancing and inability to come together for Mass, we are truly challenged to take on the call that Vatican II identified as integral to our baptized state and dignity as a "priestly people". It is not merely that each of us is part of the Church, though that is certainly true; it is also that each of us is called to be Church, to grow in faith, to do all that any disciple of Christ must do to come to recognize and know the Risen Christ, and allow Him to be recognized in/through us by others.

On the Road to Emmaus During a Pandemic: Finding New Old Ways of Being Church

As we approach today’s readings I think we all have a much clearer, more vivid sense of how it is a single Event can change our entire world so that there is simply no going back to what we once knew and perhaps even took for granted. We know what it is like to have our usual assumptions and expectations upended, to have everyday routines and priorities thrown into disarray, and -- at least for the time being -- --- to have been robbed of many of the things that gave our lives value and purpose including relationships, school, work, and even forms of ministry and ways of "being Church".

We know what it means to be frightened: frightened of illness, frightened of death, frightened even of life itself, frightened for ourselves, frightened for others, frightened the virus will leave us in a world without a meaningful future. At the same time we know the experience of "seeing with new eyes" what has been true and right in front of us all along: Family members we are, perhaps, only now spending quality time with and coming to know; friends who, in the midst of it all, are showing us new depths of compassion and caring; people we may take for granted or otherwise marginalize: they have become "essential" while we are sidelined; they are "heroes" to us and we marvel at their self-sacrifice, generosity, and courage.

Retelling the Story:

Today's gospel lection is meant to speak to people in precisely our predicament. I would like to retell it in a way that, I hope, will let us hear it afresh. These disciples have experienced the arrest, brutalization, and execution of a Man whom they loved, followed, and trusted in, a man whom they thought held the key to any real future. But the One they thought was God's own anointed one and their hope for a new and meaningful world, was instead determined to be a godless and godforsaken blasphemer and  political terrorist. He was executed in the most shameful way possible --- a way which underscored the lie his life must really have been --- and his last cry from the cross was one which pleaded with the God of Israel who had apparently also abandoned him. Like us, these disciples had experienced a world-shattering loss.

On the road to Emmaus we find them disoriented and fearful as they make their way home where they will shelter in place -- in hiding from the authorities who will be coming for them as well. On the way they take some comfort from the keenness  of their confusion and pain in conversation and debate --- yes, about the events in Jerusalem, but also they talk about the Jewish Scriptures and what they have taught and promised. Perhaps some of these stories, stories they have lived with and from their whole lives, can ease their grief a little and make sense of the tragedy they have just suffered.

When they meet a stranger who wonders why they are so distraught, so angry and uncertain, we can hear the edge in their response: "What!? Have you been living in a hole somewhere? Are you the only one in the entire civilized world who does not know what happened in Jerusalem?!! We were so sure he was God's. . . ; and, God forgive us, we were so wrong!! The One we thought was God's own Messiah was convicted by our own religious leaders and [shudder] crucified by the Romans. We know now therefore, he could not have been the one we hoped for. The God he supposedly "revealed" and taught us to believe in was powerless to save him; the kingdom he proclaimed, the realm of his God's putative "sovereignty", was apparently just another lie!!

A bit further along the road they continue to fill the stranger in on what he seems to have missed. We can hear their anger and their anguish: "You know, some women from our group told us Jesus was really alive (we had not seen the crucifixion ourselves), and they recounted stories of meeting angels --- Foolish Women! You know what kind of witnesses they make! When we checked out their story others from our group found only an empty tomb --- no heavenly messengers, no Jesus alive and well (or even alive and battered), not even his dead body --- just an empty tomb!! Some are saying the Romans stole the body to prevent the grave from becoming a focus for a martyr cult. Maybe it's true that the crucifixion of an apparently unbalanced Galilean peasant changed very little in the world at large --- but God help us!! Nothing at all is the same now. What are we to do??

In today's pandemic we face a similar journey and we know the road in front of us is long. There are great difficulties and uncertainties; neither are there easy or facile answers to the questions which haunt us. Nor, on the road to Emmaus, does the stranger provide facile answers to the desperate questions the disciples there both ask and are. Instead, he continues to accompany them on their journey. He is and remains with them. He listens and continues to listen as they pour out their hearts to him: bewilderment, anger, shattered hopes, fragile faith, and sorrow,  such immense sorrow -- he receives them all. And he challenges them rather sharply, in fact, to greater faith and continuing trust. Especially he reminds them of their scriptures and the way God has worked throughout their history.

Eventually,  in a shared meal they watch and listen as he takes bread, blesses and breaks it with and for them. And in that moment, they SEE! They KNOW! The God of Jesus, the God of the Christ has been victorious over death and death-dealing powers. He has made them his own and they are irretrievably changed by his presence. Everything Jesus told them was, no, IS true!! He has been vindicated by God, and even more astonishingly, he has been raised to new life --- not at the end of time or at the end of the world --- but right here and now in the midst of human history! Heaven, the word we use for God's own life shared with others, has broken in on and is remaking the old world into a New Creation. Nothing at all can separate us from God's love -- not crucifixion, not godless death, and certainly not pandemic. In light of all this, the disciples now see with new eyes and celebrate the truth they lamented just a short time before: NOTHING AT ALL will ever be the same again.

 On Our Own Road to Emmaus Today:

During this time of finding our way on a disorienting and painful journey, and especially as we find new ways to "be Church" when ordained clergy have been made relatively ineffective, this gospel story tells us one main story: we are being accompanied by the Crucified Christ even when we fail to recognize him and it is imperative that we learn to recognize and come to know him if we are to be people of genuine Hope. One of the reasons this gospel lection is critical for us this Easter especially is because it is clear he is not only to be found in Church, nor is he recognized only in the Scriptures as they are read there, nor only in the Eucharist itself. Because ours is an incarnational God who has sundered the veil between sacred and profane, and because, similarly, our faith is a sacramental one,  the One who accompanies us -- often unrecognized -- is found in the unexpected and even in what we might deem the unacceptable place. Sister Macrina Wiederkehr, OSB, who died just last Friday**, said it this way:

(We) live in a world of theophanies.

Holiness comes wrapped in the ordinary.

There are burning bushes all around (us).

We will say more about this as the weeks of Easter go on and the parish will help provide suggestions and resources, but it is in the reading of Scripture and the breaking of bread in our own homes that we will encounter and learn to recognize the Crucified and Risen Christ. Yes, as Vatican II emphasized, we ourselves are the church, a pilgrim people finding our way in a new and transitory world, a priestly people (Laos) in and through whom God is alive and mediated to that same world. Today's gospel asks that we return to that time when the larger faith community lived and worshipped in domestic and house churches.

Especially it asks that we make of these, places of prayer and that we become people who regularly pour out our hearts to the  God who receives us in every situation. It asks that we make our homes places where the Scriptures are read and reflected on so that our stories and those of our ancestors in faith become inextricable and God is allowed to pour himself out to us as we learn to receive him. And finally, it asks that we allow our homes to become places where the meals we eat are taken together joyfully, and attentively as we allow them to become something Eucharistic despite not being the Eucharist itself. After all, the Lord was with his disciples as they fled Jerusalem for home; He did not abandon or disdain the disciples at any point on the road to Emmaus. He will acompany us in the same way if we will only take the steps needed to encounter and recognize him! Amen.
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**N.B., Sister Macrina Wiederkehr, OSB wrote 8 wonderful books on spirituality. One powerful theme was finding God in the ordinary and another was living in the present moment (as an ever-flowing grace empowers us to do). The quote above is taken from A Treeful of Angels. Macrina died on 24. April. 2020 of a brain tumor. Condolences to her Sisters at St Scholastica Monastery, Fort Smith, AR. She has left the home she loved to return to the one for which she most deeply yearned. Alleluia!

Second Sunday of Easter: Knowing and Proclaiming Christ Crucified and only Christ Crucified! (Reprise with Tweaks)

Today's Gospel focuses on the appearances of Jesus to the disciples, and one of the lessons one should draw from these stories is that we are indeed dealing with bodily resurrection, and especially, with a kind of bodiliness which transcends the corporeality we know here and now. In other words, it is very clear that Jesus' presence among his disciples is not simply a spiritual one, and that part of Christian hope is the hope that we, precisely as embodied persons, will come to perfection beyond the limits of death. It is not just our souls which are meant to be part of the new heaven and earth, but our whole selves, body and soul, (and in fact, the whole of creation is meant to be renewed)!

The scenario with Thomas continues this theme, but is contextualized in a way which leads homilists to focus on the whole dynamic of faith with seeing, and faith despite not having seen. It also makes doubt the same as unbelief and plays these off against faith --- as though faith cannot also be served by doubt. But doubt and unbelief are decidedly NOT the same things. We rarely see Thomas as the one whose doubt (or whose demands!) SERVE true faith, and yet, that is what today's Gospel is about. Meanwhile, Thomas also tends to get a bad rap as the one who was separated from the community and doubted what he had not seen with his own eyes. The corollary here is often perceived to be that Thomas will not simply listen to his brother and sister disciples and believe that the Lord has appeared to or visited them. But I think there is something far more significant going on in Thomas' proclamation that unless he sees the wounds inflicted on Jesus in the crucifixion, and even puts his fingers in the very nail holes, he will not believe.

What Thomas, I think, wants to make very clear is that we Christians believe in a crucified Christ, and that the resurrection was God's act of validation of Jesus as scandalously and ignominiously Crucified. I think Thomas knows on some level anyway, that insofar as the resurrection really occured, it does not nullify what was achieved on the cross. Instead it renders permanently valid what was revealed (made manifest and made real) there. In other words, Thomas knows if the resurrection is really God's validation of Jesus' life and establishes him as God's Christ, the Lord he will meet is the one permanently established and marked as the crucified One. The crucifixion was not some great misunderstanding which could be wiped away by resurrection. Instead it was an integral part of the revelation of the nature of truly human and truly divine existence. Whether it is the Divine life, authentic human existence, or sinful human life --- all are marked and revealed in one way or another by the signs of Jesus' cross. For instance, ours is a God who has journeyed to the very darkest, godless places or realms human sin produces, and has become Lord of even those places. He does not disdain them even now but is marked by them and will journey with us there --- whether we are open to him doing so or not --- because Jesus has implicated God there and marked him with the wounds of an exhaustive kenosis.

Another piece of this is that Jesus is, as Paul tells us, the end of the Law and it was Law that crucified him. The nail holes and wounds in Jesus' side and head -- indeed every laceration which marked him -- are a sign of legal execution -- both in terms of Jewish and Roman law. We cannot forget this, and Thomas' insistence that he really be dealing with the Crucified One reminds us vividly of this fact as well. The Jewish and Roman leaders did not crucify Jesus because they misunderstood him, but because they understood all-too-clearly both Jesus and the immense power he wielded in his weakness and poverty. They understood that he could turn the values of this world, its notions of power, authority, etc, on their heads. They knew that he could foment profound revolution (religious and otherwise) wherever he had followers. They chose to have him crucified not only to put an end to his life, but to demonstrate he was a fraud who could not possibly have come from God; they chose to crucify (or have him crucified) to terrify those who might follow him into all the places discipleship might really lead them --- especially those places of human power and influence associated with religion and politics. The marks of the cross are a judgment (krisis) on this whole reality.

There are many gods and even very many manifestations of the real God available to us today (many partial, some more or less distorted), and so there were to Thomas and his brethren in those first days and weeks following the crucifixion of Jesus. When Thomas made his declaration about what he would and would not believe, none of these were crucified Gods or would be worthy of being believed in if they were associated with such shame and godlessness. Thomas knew how very easy it would be for his brother and sister disciples to latch onto one of these, or even to fall back on entirely traditional notions in reaction to the terribly devastating disappointment of Jesus' crucifixion. He knew, I think, how easy it might be to call the crucifixion and all it symbolized a terrible misunderstanding which God simply reversed or wiped away with the resurrection -- a distasteful chapter on which God has simply turned the page. Thomas knew that false prophets (and false "messiahs") showed up all the time. He knew that a God who is distant and all-powerful is much easier to believe in (and follow) than one who walks with us even in our sinfulness or who empties himself to become subject to the powers of sin and death, especially in the awful scandal and ignominy of the cross --- and who expects us to do essentially the same.

In other words, Thomas' doubt may have had less to do with the FACT of a resurrection, than it had to do with his concern that the disciples, in their desperation, guilt, and the immense social pressure they faced, had truly met and clung to the real Lord, the crucified One. In this way, and only in this way!) their own discipleship could and would come to be marked by the signs of the cross as they preach, suffer, and serve in the name (and so, in the paradoxical power) of THIS Lord and no other. Only he could inspire them; only he could sustain them; only he could accompany them wherever true discipleship led them.

Paul said, "I want to know Christ crucified and only Christ crucified" because only this Christ had transformed sinful, godless reality with his presence, only this Christ had redeemed even the realms of sin and death by remaining open to God even within these realities. Only this Christ would journey with us to the unexpected and unacceptable places, and in fact, only he would meet us there with the promise and presence of a God who would bring life out of them. Thomas, I believe, knew precisely what Paul would soon proclaim himself, and it is this, I think, which stands behind his insistence on seeing the wounds and putting his fingers in the very nail holes. He wanted to be sure his brethren were putting their faith in the crucified One, the one who turned everything upside down and relativized every other picture of God we might believe in. He became the great doubter because of this, but I suspect instead, he was the most astute theologian among the original Apostles. He, like Paul, wanted to know Christ Crucified and ONLY Christ Crucified.

We should not trivialize Thomas' witness by transforming him into a run of the mill empiricist and doubter (though doubting is an important piece of growth in faith)!! Instead we should imitate his insistence: we are called upon to be followers of the Crucified God, and no other. Every version of God we meet should be closely examined for nail holes, and the lance wound inflicted by the world of power and prestige. Every one should be checked for signs that this God is capable of and generous enough to assume such suffering on behalf of a creation he would reconcile and make whole. Only then do we know this IS the God proclaimed in the Gospels and the Epistles of Paul, the God of Easter, the only one worthy of being followed even into the darkest reaches of human sin and death, the only One who meets us in the unexpected and even unacceptable place; only this God is the One who makes all things new by loving us with an eternal love from which nothing at all can separate us.

Becoming the Priestly People We Are

Several weeks ago my pastor sent me an article by ecclesiologist Massimo Faggioli. As part of the subtitle was the phrase:  ". . . how COVID-19 is 'unmaking the Clericalist Church.'" A couple of weeks ago I met with a directee who posed questions about some of the things that were coming to the fore in recent papal and other Church documents -- things like indulgences (a devotional practice she knew little about and viewed with rightful suspicion), but also questions re how we approach a Sacramental Church that is not able to minister the Sacraments? Both Faggioli's article and my client's questions pointed directly at a  couple of linked deficiencies we have been talking about for a long time, but which have, with this pandemic, become critical, namely, Vatican II and the post-Vatican II Church identified us clearly as 1) a priestly people dwelling in a 2) fundamentally sacramental world, and living (too-often unconsciously) by extension, a liturgy of everyday life (my expression), rooted in 3) the presence of God and nourished by His Word and Spirit.

To a large extent, Faggioli argued, the Church is unprepared for this pandemic precisely because we are so seriously clericalized. I agree. When we are deprived of access to the Eucharistic Liturgy we turn (and return) instead to a devotional approach to spirituality which tends to privatize spirituality in a way which is unworthy of a truly priestly people. Let me be clear; there is nothing wrong with devotions per se: rosaries, novenas, chaplets of mercy, etc., have their place in every prayer life. But there are other forms of prayer and sources of Christian and ecclesial life which can serve not only to give a rightful sense of sacredness to the whole day, but especially, to form us as Christians in and through the Word of God. In this post I want to say a little about the liturgy of ordinary life and also  look briefly at a couple of things which might help folks make the best of their time in "lock-down" and provide ways of praying which contribute to 1) a sense of the sacredness of our days, and 2) our sense of being a priestly people living from and for the Word of God. None of this detracts from our need for ordained ministry; in fact, it will underscore our need for this even as it relativizes it. But it will also help allow us to discover the roots of our Sacramental lives in the sacramental nature of all reality and to make of our families what Peter Damian once called "ecclesiolae" or little churches -- a central image he used for hermitages.

A Little on the Liturgy of Ordinary Life: Family Meals as Eucharistic:

One of the things folks recognize when they attend Mass is the similarity it bears to family life more generally. The liturgy centers around a meal, but also involves periods of storytelling as we hear about the important people and events in our own history, lives, and ancestry. We signal how important these are by framing them within a ritual with significant gestures and symbols, and we mark their holiness and the way they call us to holiness in the same way. What is important for us to realize at this particular time, I think, is how it is the Mass participates in and reflects the larger holiness of our world, our relationships, our meals and other activities together. Yes, as the Church teaches the Eucharist is the sum and summit of our spirituality but that means it reflects and perfects our more usual moments and spirituality of ordinary life. It invites us to see meals (including preparation and clean up), and time together sharing stories, history, struggles, consolation, etc, as sacred events in an overarching liturgy of ordinary life.

We mark this truth by praying grace before (and after) meals. But we also do it simply by treating meals as eucharistic moments where Church is created and we are nourished and give to one another in all the ways meals make possible. For families who never have the time to prepare meals or eat together, the sense that Mass is the reflection and perfection of what happens (or should happen) every time people come together for a meal may be a new idea, but in this time of shelter-in-place when attending Mass is not possible, it becomes especially important that we take the time to observe family meals for the sacred time and opportunity for creating community they really are. We  might then also take some time for sharing Scripture, reading a Bible story, and praying the Lord's Prayer, before dinner (or we could use the Lord's Prayer to end the meal perhaps). I would suggest that the Easter Season is a perfect time to begin such a practice, especially during the lock-down practices most of us are living with. Such meals are not Eucharist, nor do they replace Eucharist; even so, they are profoundly Eucharistic and point to Eucharist if we allow them to do so.

Just as Eucharist nourishes us and allows us to experience the strength of communal life and love needed for Good Friday and Holy Saturday, and so, for the variety of darknesses that assail us, such "ordinary meals" do the same and are essential for us. We must recognize that everywhere we look we see the hand of God and we use the things of nature for our Sacraments. In some ways these are the perfection of nature and Symbols (not mere signs) of the presence and power of God. Bread, wine, water, oil, and beyond these, even breath, stone and wood -- all become ways in which the sacred quality of out world nourishes and inspires. If we can allow our ordinary reality to function as the gift of God it is, if we can learn to allow God to bless us and all of reality, we will help fulfill our vocations as God's priestly people -- especially at this time when ordained ministry has been limited in the ways it can serve us.

The Liturgy of Ordinary Life: Creating Days of Balance and Regularity

We do this by making of our days something ordered and given over to the regularity of prayer, work, recreation, community, and solitude. Psychologists tell us how important regularity is, how crucial it is to have things we can look forward to even as we fully engage with the present. How much more important all this is in a time of pandemic when the truth of our vocations to serve others with our lives removes us to the relative solitude known by hermits and cloistered religious. Monastics have known and practiced these things forever and the Church herself encourages us to build such things into our lives and, in a certain way, to make a liturgy of our days. As the priestly People of God we ARE Church and we are called to be Church in our everyday routines, our prayer, our family life, our solitude, our struggles, our work, recreation, and so forth. Again, our lives are meant to be liturgies and our homes are each meant to be "ecclesiolae" (little Churches) and we are the celebrants of this liturgical life.

Liturgy of the Hours:

One of the hallmarks of monastic life we can all gain from is the conviction that all of time is sacred and marked by the presence of God. Prayer is the way we make this presence conscious and real in our own time and space. In monastic, religious, and eremitical life one of the ways we do and have done this throughout almost the entire history of the Church is with the Divine Office or Liturgy of the Hours. With Vatican II the Church began to promote this as the official prayer of the Church and encouraged every Catholic to pray at least Morning and Evening Prayer as well as Night Prayer if possible. It is time to renew this encouragement. Many of the laity already pray "Office" because they are Benedictine oblates, or because their parishes have been successful in fostering the practice, for instance. There are manageable resources which allow folks to pray an abbreviated form of the Office like Magnificat, Give Us This Day (print and online versions), Universalis (online source), as well as Christian Prayer (a 1 volume version), for instance.

Each of these can also be tailored by the individual. They include psalms, canticles, prayers (especially the Lord's Prayer and intercessions), and brief readings from Scripture. If one can give 20-30 minutes to pray this, one can easily choose a different hymn or song (or play a CD or even use none), select a single psalm to pray slowly alone or with others, spend some time with the Scripture provided, modify the intercessions to meet needs we know of, and finish with the Lord's Prayer and a blessing, for instance. If  families use this for Night Prayer (my personal favorite "hour"), and however briefly they do this, they could end their time together with each member being blessed (signed on the forehead as is done in Church) by a parent, or for a couple, by a mutual blessing by spouses, etc. We may not be able to "spend" time in the ways we ordinarily do, but we can certainly find effective ways to sanctify (allow God to sanctify) it. This is one way the Church does this.

Lectio Divina:

Above all, during a time when folks are unable to attend Mass and receive Communion, it becomes critical that we recall what Vatican II taught about the presence of the living God in the Word of Scripture, namely, [[The Church has always venerated the divine Scriptures just as she venerates the body of the Lord, since, especially in the sacred liturgy, she unceasingly receives and offers to the faithful the bread of life from the table both of God's word and of Christ's body.]] (Dei Verbum, 21) Divine presence is very clearly affirmed in these two very different modes. This same affirmation is found in Sacrosanctum Concilium:  [[ He is present in His word since it is He Himself who speaks when the holy scriptures are read in the Church.]] (SC,7). To take time praying with Scripture, to learn to read this under the impulse of the Holy Spirit is to allow Christ to truly be present to us in the same way he is present under the consecrated species of bread and wine. While this happens in a preeminent way during liturgy, it also happens among God's priestly people engage in the reverent reading of Scripture as part of their own liturgy of ordinary life.

Summary:

Over the past almost 60 years the Church has tried to encourage the whole People of God (laos) to take seriously the ways in which they are called to be a priestly people. As we enter into this Easter Season, often without access to ordained ministry because of this pandemic, it becomes even more critical that we begin to take advantage of the sources of Christian life which do not require ordination but are central to the vocation of each and all of us as Laity. We can turn primarily to devotions which are private and may, especially in the given circumstances, tend to privatize our spirituality, or we can more primarily turn to those forms of prayer which build the Church by recognizing the sacramental character of all reality, the sacred nature of space and time, or by mediating the very presence of the Risen Christ in the Word of God. In this way we make of our own household the "little churches" of St Peter Damian. After all, this pandemic will continue on for some time and we have the time to build new habits, perceptions, and increase our own deep reception of Vatican II's teaching. We will all rejoice together when we come together with our ordained ministers (and how we miss their ministry!), but we will also do so as people who know more fully and effectively our own identities as members and representatives of a priestly people in a sacramental world.

Alleluia, Alleluia!! Christ is Risen, Indeed He is Risen! Alleluia!

Christ is Risen, Alleluia, Alleluia!!! All good wishes for a wonderful Easter Season!!

For the next 50 days we have time to attend to what Jesus' death and resurrection changed. In light of these events we live in a different world than existed before them, and we ourselves, by virtue of our Baptism into Christ's death, are new creations as well. While all this makes beautiful poetry, and although as John Ciardi once reminded us poetry can save us in dark alleys, we do not base our lives on poetry alone. Objective reality was transformed with Jesus' passion and death; something astounding, universal, even cosmic in scope, happened in these events which had not only to do with our own salvation but with the recreation of all of reality. One of Paul's shorthand phrases for this transformation was "the death of death," something I hope to be able to look at a bit more as these 50 days unfold. We have already begun to see what happens in our Church as Christ's own life begins to shine forth more brightly in a myriad of small but significant ways. 

But, it is probably good to recall that the early Church struggled to make sense of the cross, and that faith in resurrection took some time to take hold. Surprisingly, no single theology of the cross is held as official, and variations --- many quite destructive --- exist throughout the Church. Even today a number of these affirm that in various ways God was reconciled to us rather than the other way around. Only in time did the Church come to terms with the scandalous death of Jesus and embrace him as risen, and so, as the Christ who reveals God's power in weakness. Only in time did she come to understand how different the world was for those who had been baptized into Jesus' death. The Church offers us a period of time to come to understand and embrace all of this as well; the time from Easter Sunday through Pentecost is, in part, geared to this.

But, today is a day of celebration, and a day to simply allow the shock and sadness of the cross to be completely relieved for the moment. Lent is over, the Triduum has reached a joyful climax, the season of Easter has begun and we once again sing alleluia at our liturgies. Though it will take time to fully understand and embrace all this means, through the Church's liturgies and the readings we have heard we do sense that we now live in a world where death has a different character and meaning than it did before Christ's resurrection and so does life. On this day darkness has given way to light, and senselessness to meaning -- even though we may not really be able to explain to ourselves or others exactly why or how. On this day we proclaim that Christ is risen! Sinful death could not hold him and it cannot hold us as a result. Alleluia! Alleluia!!