Feast of Saint Benedict: Hospitality is a Synonym for Mercy

When, while reflecting on Friday's readings several years ago, I told the story of the Nickel Mines massacre (we could point to several very recent ones this year alone including Ulvalde, TX), I mainly focused on the theme of forgiveness and how it is that the Amish were capable of forgiving Roberts (the shooter) and also extending that forgiveness to his widow and larger family. When Matthew, as we heard this last week, tells us not to worry about what we are to say in such crises because the Holy Spirit will  provide us with whatever that is, it reminded me of the Amish practice of forgiving routinely, consciously living from the Gospel, and thereby creating habits of the heart which do indeed enable them (and us) to speak and act as Christians empowered by the Holy Spirit in even such terrible situations. My point those years ago was that we are called as Christians to hand on the Gospel of reconciliation and the Amish show us vividly what that means.

But those daily readings have to do with more than just forgiving those who hurt us. Again, and again references are made to a richer or broader concept than forgiveness as we ordinarily understand it. That broader concept, that reality is the mercy of God. As I reflected and meditated on these readings I was reminded once again of how inadequate our common notion of mercy actually is. Too often we see it as "letting someone off the hook" or as "the opposite (or at least the mitigation) of justice." Too often I have the impression we see mercy as a form of sentimentalism or weakness, and we say that God's mercy must be balanced by his justice (or vice versa).  But Pope Francis, Walter Cardinal Kasper and others are clear that God's mercy is his justice. It is in being merciful that God sets things right and establishes a Kingdom we can hardly imagine. Matthew's readings from the last few days along with the tragedy at Nickel Mines helps us understand how that is the case.

These readings speak of forgiveness, but they also convey the more expansive and challenging idea that when God is merciful it means that he gives us a place to belong, a place in his own life, a place where we are safe and free to be ourselves, a place which is free from fear and where vulnerability is not dangerous to us but is an altogether (if still risky) human and normal reality.  When God forgives it means God extends his mercy to those who are sinners, those who are strangers or aliens, those who have offended him and injured those most precious to God (including themselves!). After all a sinner is one who quite literally has made herself alien to God, a stranger whom God does not know in that intimate Biblical sense of the term. In each of the readings there are references to being offered such a place, being made to be other than orphans or sinners, being shown compassion and having a place in God's own life.

In the Gospel lections over these past days Matt is dealing with a community being torn apart because of the new faith; it is a community in which the people are asked to continue to proclaim the Good News in the face of all opposition (including that of their own families) and to offer mercy and make neighbors and even family of strangers and aliens on a level which was not common otherwise. And yet, this Good News cuts sharply and demands real strength from us. Both the Nickle Mines Amish and St Benedict, whose Feast day is tomorrow, help us to understand this mercy in terms of doing justice and making the world a different place -- the world of neighbors, not aliens. The word which ties all three dimensions together, forgiveness, mercy as offering people a place to truly belong, as well as the stories of the Amish and St Benedict, is hospitality. What I came to see in reflecting on the readings, the original story of Nickle Mines and my own Benedictine Tradition is that hospitality and mercy stand as synonyms in the Christian Tradition.

In the Nickle Mines massacre the Amish offered forgiveness almost immediately and I told that story a few years ago. But there was more to the story, more that I did not know until I read the book, Amish Grace. Forgiveness would have allowed the participants in that story to move forward without holding grudges. It would have allowed a more or less easy peace with the world of the "English" and especially with the gunman's wife, children, and larger family. But this was not sufficient for the Amish. They literally welcomed the gunman's family into their lives. Not only did they allow Robert's wife and mother to visit the victims regularly, but, as I may have noted, his Mother came weekly to the most badly injured child and read to her, sang to her and sometimes bathed her. Robert's parent held pool parties for the children and had teas for the parents. They were welcome in one another's homes. Indeed the Amish children were reported to have said to Robert's Mom, you haven't come to read or sing to us yet; when will you come and visit us? Everyone involved spoke of "the new normal" they had to get used to --- there was no going back to the way it was or pretending it had not happened! But additionally they worked hard to create a "new normal" in which strangers became neighbors and neighbors became family. In short, they showed mercy as well as forgiveness and changed the nature of their world for everyone involved.

It is more than a little appropriate then that the Church asks us to revisit these readings and I choose to revisit this story on the feast of St Benedict. Benedictines know that hospitality is a key virtue and very high value in the Christian life. In the Rule of St Benedict we are reminded that everyone who comes to our door is to be treated as Christ. All monasteries have guesthouses and most do a wonderful job of accommodating guests as they would Christ himself. But hospitality is about more than providing someone a place to sleep or a seat and plate at our table. It is about learning to see the face of an individual in place of that of the stranger; it is about overcoming the stereotypes and bigotry that are parts of our own hearts and ways of seeing reality. It is about facing the fears within us that are triggered by our encounters with those who are different than we are and in so doing, making of the world a place which is truly more just and safer for everyone. To be merciful to another is to do the same. It is to allow them a place in our lives, yes, but even more it means to let them into our hearts.

When the young man asks Jesus, "Who is my neighbor?" as he did in today's Gospel, Jesus doesn't point to any single group. Instead he tells the story of the good Samaritan, the quintessential alien who cares for a man (an enemy) who has been mugged and who then ensures that "enemy's" future care at a local inn as well.  Neighbors, Jesus tells us in this way, are simply strangers we do not allow to remain strangers. They are strangers whom we allow to genuinely belong in our own lives and world, aliens we make at home. In Jesus' parable the Samaritan makes a neighbor of a stranger while the religious leaders who are this man's neighbors treat him as an alien and make a stranger of him. The Samaritan makes of the world a place which is a bit safer and looks a bit different to the man who was mugged. Of course it takes preparation and practice to do such dramatically compassionate acts. The Amish practice forgiveness and mercy/hospitality everyday of their lives. In this regard at least, their hearts were readied in a significant way for the crisis that befell that awful day in Nickel Mines, PA. When Jesus/Matt tells the community not to worry about what they are to say on their own day of crisis he points to the Holy Spirit who will speak through them --- if, that is, their own hearts are readied as well.

My prayer this day is that each of us will look at the ways in which we fail to have mercy, fail to offer hospitality, fail to make a neighbor of the stranger, choose to remain aliens or to treat others thusly and act in some way to change those things. For God, having mercy and offering a place in his own life is the same thing. It is in loving that God mercifully does justice and makes the world a hospitable place. May we draw these realities a little closer together in our own minds, hearts, and lives as well --- and may our world be made more merciful, more hospitable, and more just in the process. I also pray especially for those Dominican Sisters in Iraq and Religious everywhere who have made it their own mission to make neighbors of the stranger and to break down the stereotypes and walls of bigotry (especially religious bigotry!) that keep their world broken by alienation and hostility. May our own efforts at hospitality be the Christian response and counter movement and dynamic to hostility. (cf also The Homeless Jesus)

Questions on Horarium and Writing a Rule

[[Dear Sr. Laurel, . . . I’m exploring the idea of living my life as a hermit, and am wondering if you can give me some direction. I’ve been reading through your blog posts, and am wondering if you have one that details your rule of life and what your day is like? I’m about 3 years from retiring and plan on moving to a very small house I own on the edge of a little town in. . .. I’m currently working with a spiritual director, and although she has a lot of experience in spiritual direction she does not have any experience of working with a hermit before. So any information you would be willing to share with me would be most welcome.]]

Hi there! There are several posts on horarium and several others on writing a Rule of Life. Please check the labels to the right for those posts. Remember that your horarium is your own and may not look like mine except in the most general ways. Similarly, while I once posted my own Rule here, I took it down for a couple of related reasons, 1) folks would write me and part of what they wrote used sections of my own Rule. I sometimes thought they weren't even aware of what they were doing in this, and 2) the actual writing of one's Rule of Life is an important piece of one's own formation and discernment as a hermit. In fact, I would say that apart from the theology I was educated in and, more recently, the inner work I do with my director (personal formation), the act of writing my Rule was the most important and powerfully formative experience of my life. I am grateful to God and to canon 603 for requiring it of me.

Yes, it took time and a good bit of muddling through, but I would want every would-be hermit to have such an experience and would never want to do anything which served as an obstacle to that whole process. (In fact, you may notice from other posts on this topic, that I have used this requirement to develop a process of discernment and formation for dioceses and their eremitical candidates; it allows a small team of formators, including one's own spiritual director, to accompany the candidate as she and God together negotiate a self-paced, Spirit-driven process which serves her needs in this and, should she move in the direction of petitioning for canonical standing, the needs of the diocese as well. The beauty of this process is that it grows directly from the requirements of c 603 itself as well as the candidate's own lived experience and forms the candidate in this normative vision of solitary eremitic life.) 

My suggestion to you, therefore, is that you get a copy of canon 603 (see labels, Canon 603 -- text of, to the right) underline the central or constitutive elements, and begin studying, reflecting, praying over, and writing about each of these little by little. Write about how you understand them now and then read more about each one. As you do this over time record how your understanding changes. As you begin to live them do something similar. Keep a notebook with all of these notes (divide them with tabs, for instance) and in a year or two you might be ready to write what one element or another looks like in your lived experience. (Other posts here have similar suggestions beginning with how God is working or does work in your life. Please look at those as well.) When you have done this with all of the elements you may have the nuts and bolts of your own Rule of Life. You would still need eventually to transform that into a written Rule that captures your own vision of c 603 life in the contemporary Church, and that includes a brief perspective on the history of the vocation, the charism as you understand it, and a vow formula, etc., but it will serve you well in creating the foundation of such a Rule.

Please reassure your director that she does not need to have directed hermits before. You are not one now anyway, and as you grow into one (to the extent you actually do this), your director will be able to help you to become more and more a contemplative and then to discern whether or not you are called to even deeper silence and solitude commensurate with eremitical life. She will know you, what is truest in you, and the way God calls you; as she comes to understand the constituent elements of the canon more deeply, she will also know whether or not those elements of c 603 speak to you in ways which allow you to be your truest self. She will know how God works in your life, and will grow in her own understanding of eremitical life in the process of directing you if you truly become a hermit. There is no reason she should not be able to direct you right along in this process, So again, please reassure her of all of this. Meanwhile if she or you have specific questions or concerns as you negotiate this journey over the next several years, please know you are both free to contact me with them.

I sincerely hope this is helpful.

A Contemplative Moment: The Silence of Solitude

 

The Silence of Solitude

"Solitude has nothing to do with existential neurosis, but is rather a creative search for the flame of love that burns in God's heart. . . .What occupies the center. . .is the existential solitude of God himself. This is what the human heart wants to absorb and this is where it wants to rest. The eremitic solitude is in no case a fruitless and spiritually empty isolation, a cold indifference toward people and the world, or a selfish passiveness. Just the opposite, it is a space of redemption, full of spiritual life and meant to accept and change any human distress, sorrow, or fear."

"Solitude, which paradoxically we happen to notice most intensely when we relate to another "thou", is a fertile soil in which grows our authentic life's calling of solitude by choice. Only one who is fully aware of the great value of human relationships, bonds, and connections can decide on giving them up in order to find them anew in an even fuller way. So, the choice of an eremitic calling should be made in freedom and humility. The person who is called to remain alone and makes his independent choice for solitude is, above all, a herald of the absolutely precious and meaningful love that is continuously going on in the depths of the triune God. . . .

To be a hermit means to relate to the mystery that is present in every human life and makes one feel small and powerless. To see with the eyes of faith the marvelous and eternal beauty of God means to be invited to come out of oneself and to give oneself up to God. . . .. In this sense, the eremitic calling is a consequence of meeting the original depths of the Trinity's solitude. . . . The reality of God is thus the original source of any solitude, an impenetrable abyss that calls to the profound depths of solitude of the human heart. Having heard that existential call of God's solitude, people respond to it by opening up the whole secret of their hearts."

Fr Cornelius Wencel, Er Cam: The Eremitic Life

Happy Fourth of July!!

Each year this day reminds me that Christians have much to tell America about the nature of true freedom, even while they are grateful for a country that allows them the liberty to practice their faith pretty much as they wish and need. Too often today, however, Freedom is thought of as the ability to do anything we want -- without real regard to others or their similar call to Freedom. Understood this way, freedom (license) is the quintessential value of the narcissist. Unfortunately, the pandemic our global community continues to face has revealed just how prevalent is the valuing of liberty (a license our founders did not enshrine in the Constitution) over genuine freedom; we are seeing it both touted and modeled by our leading politicians and their supporters.

And yet, within Christian thought and praxis freedom is the power to be the persons we are called to be. It is the direct counterpart of Divine sovereignty and is other-centered. I believe our founding fathers had a keen sense of this, but today, it is a sense Americans often lack. Those of us who celebrate the freedom of Christians can help recover a sense of this necessary value by embracing it more authentically ourselves. Not least we can practice a freedom which is integrally linked to correlative obligations and exists for the sake of all; that is, it involves an obligation to be there for the other, most especially the least and poorest among us so that they too may be all that God has called them to be. We act and struggle to allow everyone to have a voice, indeed, to have their own voice in their lives and workplaces, in the political and other choices they make and seek to ratify in voting their minds and hearts.

In the past several years, the wearing of surgical masks and sheltering-in-place have become small but powerful symbols of this kind of freedom and its correlative sacrifice for the sake of others. And yet, how difficult these relatively minor inconveniences have been for so many of us. Many simply refuse to put others first (or consider them at all!). And yet, the truth remains that one way we celebrate this holiday is by refraining from any usual practices which endanger others and our planet --- eschewing fireworks wherever it is unsafe, maintaining social distancing, working for the rights of all, etc. In so doing we demonstrate our freedom to be loving persons who, despite minor inconveniences like masking and continued social distancing, are only ourselves and only truly free in interdependence with others and all of creation.

But today the United States is in danger of choosing to "protect" our freedom by refusing to open ourselves to "the other". In significant ways it defends racism and the way it is exercised in law enforcement and symbolized in monuments to past historical figures whose legacy is stained, at best. This year the refusal to be open to the other took the form of a refusal to accept the results of a legal election and a concerted effort to subvert the results of that election climaxing in the desecration of our Capitol's most powerful symbol of freedom in a riot that killed and/or injured capitol police and others. In all of this we have forgotten that we are free only insofar as we are open to loving others, to sharing our lives and our freedom with the other, the alien. Like love, personal freedom is lost when we fail to extend it to others and make "neighbors" of them. 

Once we build walls against the other so too have we walled ourselves into the narrow confines of our own fear, ignorance, or selfishness. Authentic freedom always seeks the freedom of the other, including the freedom to let everyone vote their consciences without unfair constraints. It is expansive and, to  some extent, missionary in nature. And it is sacrificial. While the boundaries of American freedom involve borders and finite resources that must be honored and husbanded, its heart is global and so must its vulnerability be. 

 All good wishes on this anniversary of the birthday of our Nation! May God empower us to live up to the obligations of the freedom, both personal and national, which we recognize as both Divine gift and human responsibility. And may we celebrate the interdependence we are sometimes still only just learning to associate with this Freedom ! 

Sister Simone Campbell to Receive Presidential Medal of Freedom

President Joe Biden will award the nation’s highest civilian honor to a Catholic sister next week. Simone Campbell, S.S.S., will receive the Presidential Medal of Freedom, the White House announced Friday. Sister Campbell is the former head of the Catholic social justice lobbying organization Network until her retirement last year. 

Describing Sister Campbell as “a prominent advocate for economic justice, immigration reform, and healthcare policy,” the announcement from the White House said that the award is given to Americans “who have made exemplary contributions to the prosperity, values, or security of the United States, world peace, or other significant societal, public or private endeavors.” President Joe Biden will award the nation’s highest civilian honor to a Catholic sister next week.

Sister Campbell is one of 17 people who will be awarded the medal at a White House ceremony on July 7. “These seventeen Americans demonstrate the power of possibilities and embody the soul of the nation—hard work, perseverance, and faith,” the announcement reads. “They have overcome significant obstacles to achieve impressive accomplishments in the arts and sciences, dedicated their lives to advocating for the most vulnerable among us, and acted with bravery to drive change in their communities—and across the world—while blazing trails for generations to come.”

Sister Campbell reacted to the news on Twitter, writing, “I am deeply honored by this unexpected recognition, which highlights the important work of lifting up the experiences of ordinary people in our nation in order to make policy for all.”

A familiar face in national politics, Sister Campbell spoke at two Democratic National Conventions in 2012 and 2020. She organized the “Nuns on the Bus,” a tour that took her and other sisters to hundreds of events throughout the United States to call attention to the need for an expanded social safety net. Sister Campbell was an ardent supporter of the Affordable Care Act when it was enacted in 2010 and more recently, she was active in the 2020 election, urging Catholics not to vote for President Trump.

Other recipients include Olympian Simone Biles; Sandra Lindsay, a critical care nurse who was the first person to receive the Covid-19 vaccine outside of clinical trials; and Richard Trumka, a labor union leader who died last year. Actor Denzel Washington, Father Alexander Karloutsos, the former Vicar General of the Greek Orthodox Archdiocese of America and the late Senator John McCain will also be awarded medals.

Understanding and Preventing Abuses of Canon 603 (Reprise with Tweaks)

(First published 1 year ago) [[Dear Sister Laurel, why is it that bishops and others misuse canon 603? Have you thought much about this? I wonder how it is we can prevent this from happening, whether by bishops or by those who are not hermits at all. Have you written about this already?]] 

Thanks for your questions! In light of several of my recent posts I think it is clear that they are important questions, and perhaps as neuralgic today as they were in the days of the first implementation of canon 603. So while, yes, I have written about this in the past, it is probably time to look again at the problems involved and the multi-part solution.

Your first question gets to the heart of the matter: "Why do bishops misuse or allow the misuse of canon 603?" is the way I would restate it. (There are many reasons individuals seek to be professed under canon 603 only one of which is valid --- namely, they have discovered they are called to human wholeness and holiness as a hermit and now wish to bring the gift of this call to the whole Church and world in the way only a public and ecclesial vocation can do.) That is, they seek to live this gift for the sake of others and others are allowed to know and take encouragement from this. However, it is up to the church (via bishop and his curia/staff) to discern both the genuine presence of this gift and the call to live it canonically. For this reason, I changed your question so that the weight and focus of it falls to the seeker's bishop. So, why do bishops misuse or allow the misuse of canon 603?

I think in the main the answer must be ignorance. It may be the bishop knows nothing really of the canon or its history. Sometimes they may not know anything substantive rather than merely superficial about eremitic life itself. Sometimes, even when they know something of eremitical life, they do not understand its charism, the unique way it is a gift for the individual hermit and for others, and they may have no sense at all that this is truly a significant vocation entrusted to the church by God. Added to ignorance there may be degrees of arrogance and carelessness as well then --- and here I mean carelessness in both the sense of "I couldn't care less" and in the related sense of sloppiness or negligence in discernment, implementation, supervision, etc. This is only logical because the carelessness we sometimes see with bishops who abuse or misuse canon 603 necessarily follows from a failure to understand either the nature or significance (especially in the sense of the charism) of the vocation itself. One cannot value appropriately what one does not understand, and one cannot treat with appropriate attentiveness what one does not value.

For me the most significant form of ignorance is a failure to understand the charism or gift quality of the vocation. I identify this as what canon 603 calls "the silence of solitude" because it is unique to this vocation not only as context for the life, but also as its very goal and in this way, it becomes a gift to church and world (cf Silence of solitude as charism). Hermits recognize the call to wholeness and holiness is realized in the quies and shalom achieved by the individual in communion with God. This union of human and divine lived toward and realized in an eremitical context is what we rightly identify as the reality of true silence and the fullness of solitude. Where we are one with God our hearts are whole and at rest, just as where we are truly with God we are one; our hearts are not seeking or striving for meaning, nor do they cry out in anguish or groan in emptiness. (The anguish of compassion is another matter entirely!) In union with God we are truly ourselves and that self is a covenantal or dialogical event. This is what makes the solitude the hermit lives in and towards so very different from isolation. Too, it is from this eremitical silence that the song that is the hermit is spun out and into our world. And how desperately our world needs the witness of such lives!!

But how very few, relatively speaking, are those called to human wholeness and holiness in this specific way! While all are called to union with God and made to become God's very prayer in our world, very few are called to achieve this via eremitical life. Bishops need to understand this. They must learn to appreciate the gift the eremitical vocation is, not seeing the hermit as a kind of "prayer warrior", another, though perhaps more subtle, way of gauging the meaning of a life in terms of productivity and even busyness, but rather as a vivid illustration of the fundamental truth that we are each completed and find our lives to be supremely meaningful in our communion with God --- something which comes to us as grace as we learn to rest in God in the silence of solitude. I think few bishops come close to understanding the gift of the eremitical vocation in this way, and for that reason, they fail to see how much such vocations have to offer a society and culture where so very many are marked and marred by isolation and struggle with a sense of emptiness and meaninglessness in their lives. 

Without such a vision of the vocation's nature and charism it is a small step to bishops treating c 603 vocations as though they are unimportant, able to be used as stopgap solutions for problematical priests who, despite all their seminary discernment and training are unsuitable for parish ministry in the contemporary church, to allow c 603 to serve as a canonical slot into which they shoehorn cranky nutcases who might be appeased and quieted with consecration, or a relatively obscure sinecure into which a "failed religious" who wants to continue in active ministry might fit without making waves for anyone. Sometimes cases arise where an individual cannot be allowed to enter a religious congregation despite their strong sense this is what God is calling them to; bishops seeking a pastoral solution can be tempted to use c 603 as a stopgap to provide a means to public profession, despite the fact the person is not a hermit in any essential sense and shows no genuine inclination to eremitical life. Each of these represent ways c 603 has sometimes been used by bishops, and each is marked by ignorance and a correlative arrogance and carelessness. The most common result of such a lack of vision, however, is the profession of lone isolated individuals who may be pious and well-intentioned, but who are not, and will never be hermits in anything more than name only.

How do we prevent this from happening? 

I don't have an answer to the question of prevention. I have been asked in the past if canon 603 needed to be enlarged, or if there need to be more canons created, and once or twice whether the church needed to publish some other document on the vocation. At this point I would like to see some instructions** not only on the significance and charism of the vocation but also on who one admits to profession along with some suggested time frames for such a step. For instance, that one is already a (lay) hermit in some essential sense and approaches the diocese only after living as such for at least five years for a discernment process which will last anywhere from 2 to 5 years before admission to temporary vows, is one of these. (Someone coming from a background in religious life still needs a meaningful period of transition, discernment, and formation as a hermit though the number of years required for this are likely to differ.) 

I would also like to see some general instructions on what it means to write a Rule of Life and the amount of time (or the typical number of drafts and lived experience of the vocation) such a project requires and why. Especially I would like dioceses and candidates to understand that writing a liveable Rule requires experience living the life as a prerequisite, and also that writing several Rules over a period of years can assist the hermit, her director, and the chancery as well with both discernment and formation. So, to answer the question I once said no to, perhaps there is a need for a document of instructions on the nature and appropriate use of c 603 along with commentary on the central elements of the canon. Many bishops have taken the time to educate themselves on this specific vocation and implementation of the canon has worked well for them in the occasional vocations they have admitted to consecration.  However, abuses and misuses will probably still occur even in the presence of such an instruction; it will not stop misuses until and unless bishops and others working with candidates for c 603 profession take it (and other forms of education) seriously and use them to instruct inquirers and those admitted to serious processes of discernment. Only in such cases will such an instruction put an end to the ignorance that leads to abuse and misuse.

** Note: A reader reminded me of a resources document put out in 2002 by CICLSAL which was helpful and open to development. My thanks to him. There is certainly room for c 603 hermits/dioceses to share their wisdom re living and implementing canon 603 along with their ideas on this document and the ways it might be enhanced today. There is also a new document, new Guidelines on the c 603 vocation published in 2022 by CICLSAL (now DICLSAL). Folks should look for The Eremitic Form of Life in the Particular Church if they are interested. 

Inner Work and the Silence of Solitude as the Goal of the Hermit's Life (Reprise)

(First published in 2017) [[Hi Sister Laurel, thanks for writing more regularly again. I hope you will continue to do so on canon 603 and issues which are central to it. I was moved by your writing about the personal inner work you did this last Summer and early Fall.  You haven't always shared that kind of thing and personally I appreciated that a hermit might need to do this kind of work in a way which was both intense and prolonged. I was also happy to hear a little more about your own life. You said you felt it was necessary as part of your vocation. My question has to do with the link between that statement and canon 603. Does this inner work have to do with what you have written about "the silence of solitude"? It has intrigued me that you have written about "the silence of solitude" as the charism of your vocation but also that you have written about "the silence of solitude" as the goal of your life. I wondered if the inner work you were engaged in had to do with understanding "the silence of solitude" as the goal of your life?]]

WOW!! Now THAT is a wonderful and perceptive question!! So, the short answer is YES, that is exactly the case. Since the silence of solitude is not only the essential environment but also both the charism and goal of my life this inner work was absolutely essential. In fact, I found the work necessary for three reasons related to my vocation: 1) obedience (my commitment to listen deeply and to respond appropriately in faith to the voice of God) required it; 2) assiduous prayer and penance required it, and 3) the silence of solitude as charism and goal of this vocation required it. (Consecrated celibacy also required it but in a more indirect way than the others.)

When I have written about the silence of solitude I have emphasized that it is not simply about external silence or physical solitude; it is about the silence of living in communion with God. That includes the inner silence that results from communion with God, the stillness that comes from being loved with an everlasting and unconditional love, and the wholeness that allows one to stand with integrity no matter what or who this means standing without or against. Because I am committed to living this element of the canon and witnessing to the result of living the love of God in this very specific way (in and as the silence of solitude) the inner work was an integral and essential part of opening myself to that love.

 Imagine a hermit who claims the charism of her vocation is the silence of solitude but also that she need not do the inner work it takes to allow that to be realized as fully as possible in her own life. Imagine a hermit who claims that the love of God can transform the muteness of isolation into the silence of solitude but who resists the work such a transformation requires. Imagine a hermit  whose inner anguish or inner woundedness leaves her an inarticulate cry of pain but who also does not undertake the inner growth work necessary to allow proper healing. I suspect that most hermits have to look at their motives for embracing such an unusual and apparently unnatural vocation. The question of whether one's withdrawal is unhealthy and motivated (rather than partly occasioned) by woundedness or whether it is a healthy and valid anachoresis is not one we look at once at the beginning of our lives in eremitical solitude. Instead it is something that recurs every time our own woundedness becomes evident. At the same time a commitment to assiduous prayer and penance means that our woundedness (as well as our great potential) becomes evident again and again, day in and day out.

I wrote somewhat recently that there must be a redemptive experience at the heart of each hermit's life and that it must occur in external silence and physical solitude. Otherwise, there is no way to discern that God is the source of this supposed "vocation," or that this is in fact a vocation.  The inner work I spoke of is a primary way in which God's redemption is mediated to us over time. It is made possible by time spent in silence and solitude, and for the hermit it leads back to even greater internal silence and solitude (a deeper relationship with God alone and greater wholeness and integrity as a person) lived in an even more profound commitment to God in the silent and solitary life of the hermitage. Moreover, it will empower the hermit to reach out to others in love despite as well as because one is living a solitary life within the hermitage. In other words, the inner work I have written about opens one to God's redemption. The healing and energy of this experience of redemption leads to the strengthening and purifying of the hermit's silence of solitude, not only as the environment of her life, but as the charism or gift quality of that life as well as its goal. In fact, it helps establish and even underscores the truth of the hermit's witness to the silence of solitude as both charism and goal. 

Sister Laurel, Whom Does it Hurt? (Reprise)

 I posted this two years ago now, and the question has been raised again in another context (more about that later), so I thought it a good idea to reprise the post. Any time an ecclesial vocation is used by someone in a fraudulent manner, people are hurt. More, the vocation itself is hurt as is the credibility of the Church. With a vocation as rare and little-understood or little-valued as c 603 vocations are, instances of fraudulent usage --- the situation I have in mind now (or pretense, as in the case of the post below) --- become even more harmful than they might with more usual vocations to religious or consecrated life.

[[Dear Sister Laurel, why does it bother you so much if someone who is Catholic wants to live like a hermit and is not consecrated by the Church wants to call themselves a Catholic Hermit? I'm sure some people don't know that the term is a technical one or that canon law applies to the use of the term Catholic in this sort of thing. And so what? Why not let people just do as they wish? Who does it hurt anyway? I think you are hung up on this and need to let it go --- after all, really what does it matter in the grand scheme of things except for those who, like you, seem to be hung up on minutiae? (I'm betting you won't post this question but thanks for answering it if you do!)]]

Thanks for your questions. Almost everything I write about on this blog, whether it has to do with the commitments made by the hermit, the canon(s) governing her life, approaches to writing a Rule of Life, the rights, obligations, and expectations associated with her vocation, the nature and significance of ecclesial vocations like this one, the nature of authentic humanity and the witness value of the hermit's life, the hope she is called to mediate to those who live lives marginalized by chronic illness and disability, the discernment and formation associated with the vocation, or the importance of elders and mentors in her life (and other topics) --- all of this speaks either explicitly or implicitly to the meaning and importance of the much more than technical term Catholic Hermit. That said, some posts will deal with your questions as central to understanding this specific eremitical vocation. These will most often be found under the labels:  ecclesial vocation(s), silence of solitude as charism, and rights and obligations of canon 603 vocations (and variations thereof). Since I cannot reprise everything written in the past 14 years of blogging on these topics, I would suggest you read or reread some of those posts.

Let me point out that it may well be that in our country and even in our world today the truth doesn't much matter and individualism is the way of life most value. Similarly, it may well be that liberty has edged out genuine freedom in such a world and generosity been supplanted by a "me first", "win at any cost" philosophy and corresponding set of values. Similarly, our world seems to have forgotten that what some decry as "socialism" today was identified in the New Testament's Acts of the Apostles as the only true shape of  community in the new Family (or Kingdom) of God in Christ.  (cf Acts 2:44-45) Christianity has never truly been the most popular or pervasive way of living in our world --- even when most folks went by the name "Christian"; still, Christianity is built on truth and this truth leads to a responsible freedom marked by generosity and humble (lovingly truthful) service to others. Countercultural as that may be, the place which stands right at the point of sharpest conflict with the values of the contemporary world is the life of the canonical (consecrated) hermit.

The hermit's life is both most easily misunderstood and most easily distorted in living. The freedom of the hermit can slide into a selfish libertinism, its individuality can devolve into a "me first" individualism, and its lack of an active apostolic ministry can be mistaken quite easily for selfishness and a refusal to serve others. Those who neither understand the nature of the life, nor the Church's role in ensuring that these distortions do not occur, will ask the kinds of questions you pose in your query. They are not the folks I generally write about -- though their ignorance can be problematical.  Others who are equally ignorant of the distinctions which stand between world and Kingdom of God will valorize their own selfish individualism with the name "hermit" and some of these will, even when initial ignorance has been corrected, insist on calling themselves "Catholic Hermits" despite never having been called by the Church to live this life in her name, and despite being unprepared and sometimes unwilling to accept the rights and obligations incumbent upon someone petitioning the Church for admission to public profession and consecration. It is these persons I call counterfeit or even fraudulent for they have taken a simple and vincible ignorance and raised it to the level of obstinate lie.

Whom Does it Hurt?

Whom does it hurt? First of all, it hurts the vocation itself. There is no more stark example of the truth of the way God relates to human beings than when a hermit stands face to face with God in the solitude of her cell and praises God for her life, her call to holiness, and embraces the challenge to love ever more deeply; this example continues vividly as she consents to be a witness to a God who desires to be everything for her because (he) values us all beyond all imagining. It is even more striking because she says this is true no matter how poor, how broken or wounded, how sinful or shamed, and how seemingly unproductive her life is in a world marked by consumerism and an exaggerated focus on productivity --- a world which very much values the opposite of all of these and considers the hermit to be "nothing" and even "a waste of skin". In Christ, the hermit stands before God consenting to be the imago dei she was made to be, entirely transparent to God's truth, beauty, and love, and she says with her life that this is the common call of every person. Quite a precious witness!

For someone to call themselves a Catholic Hermit when the Church herself has not discerned or admitted her to a public eremitical commitment is to strip away the humble commitment to the truth which is meant to be part of the vocation's foundation and to insert self-definition and self-centeredness in its place. Those who look to this person as an example of the Church's vision of eremitical life may find  that rather than a "Catholic Hermit" they are faced instead with the validation of  many of the same distortions and stereotypes plaguing eremitical life throughout the centuries. 

What they will not find is a person who humbly accepts her poverty before God insofar as this means accepting the vocation to which one is truly called. Lay eremitical life is profoundly meaningful and important in the life of the church; it should be honestly embraced in that way. A secondary result can be that the Church herself (in individual dioceses) will refuse to consider professing diocesan hermits at all; the vocation is a rare one with, relatively speaking, very few authentic examples; fraudulent "hermits" who represent distortions, stereotypes, and caricatures (as well as sometimes being nutcases and liars) unfortunately can serve to cast doubt on the entire vocation leading to dioceses refusing to give those seeking profession any real hearing at all.

Secondly, it hurts those who most need the witness of this specific vocation, namely those who for whatever reason find themselves unable to compete with the world on its own terms: the chronically ill, disabled, and otherwise marginalized who may believe the world's hype that wealth is measured in terms of goods and social status, able-bodiedness, youth, productivity, and so forth.  Hermits say to these people that they are valued beyond all reckoning by a God who knows them inside out. Hermits say to these people that real wealth is measured in terms of love and that one of the most precious symbols of Christianity is that of treasure contained in clay pots, while real strength is perfected and most fully revealed in weakness. To attempt to witness to the truth of the Gospel by living a lie and building it into the foundation of one's eremitical life destroys the capacity of the hermit to witness effectively to these truths. To proclaim the fundamental truth that in Christianity wealth is contained in clay pots is made impossible if one refuses to be the pot one has been made by the potter to be (a lay hermit, for instance) but claims instead to be something else (e.g., a consecrated Catholic Hermit).

Thirdly, it hurts the one doing the lying or misrepresentation, especially if she actually comes to believe her own lies. In this way her capacity for truth, humility, generosity, and gratitude are all equally injured --- and thus too, her own authenticity as a human being. We cannot image God as we are called if we cannot accept ourselves or the vocation to which God calls us. And finally, it hurts the Church herself who is responsible for all that goes on "in her name" and for commissioning those who live eremitical life in this way.

As part of this injury to the Church, it may hurt anyone who is influenced by the fraudulent "Catholic Hermit" in her lies and misrepresentations. Sometimes this happens because the person follows the directions the counterfeit gives to "become a Catholic Hermit" and then, after spending time following this advice and building hopes on a false dream or pathway to realize their dream, is confronted by one's parish or diocese with the truth of the matter. Terrible damage can be done in this way just as it is done to those who are scandalized by the disedifying example of "hermits" who embody all the worst stereotypes associated with eremitical life, whether canonical or non-canonical. Unfortunately, the individual fraudulent "Catholic Hermit" is ordinarily not held nearly as responsible as the Church is in such cases so the damage or injury can be far-reaching and relatively ungovernable.

Summary:

I am bothered by all of this because I see the value in eremitical life, most particularly as it stands as a witness against the distorted notions of humanity and community so prevalent in today's world. I am bothered by this because I am committed to live this vocation well for the sake of others, but especially for the sake of God and God's Church who is the steward of this vocation. I care so much because I have come to know how important this vocation is --- especially as a countercultural witness to the nature of authentic human existence and all the things the world puts up as values today. Finally, I care because God has called me to care, and to embody this caring in my own living, witnessing, teaching, mentoring, direction, and prayer. I care because the truth matters and because God and God's Church cares even as she commissioned me to do so as well. 

You may consider this a personal "hang up" of mine. That's not a problem and you are free to your opinion, but if you wish me to "let it go," I would note that I am responding to your questions here, and your questions prompt me to think about and even research it further --- not the best way to convince me to let go of something! You also used the term minutia, and I would ask you to consider what portions of my response deal with minutia; I don't see anything in all of this that is not significant in many ways for many, many, people and the witness of the Church as a whole. Remember that in dealing with this issue it is the flipside of writing about what it means to be called to live a vocation in the name of the Church. It is unfortunate that this problem exists in the Church today, but it does -- in many dioceses, and, given the internet, with an outsized influence. 

My answer to the question, [[Whom does it hurt?]] therefore, would have to be anyone such dishonesty or outright fraud touches, even if they are not aware of it at the time. The Church is to minister truly and to assist others to live the truth of their deepest selves in Christ. That is made much more difficult when fraud and dishonesty are enacted or purported to be enacted in the name of that same Church. In a world hungry for truth and a credible Church, no one, I would argue, is untouched by this.

Solemnity of the Sacred Heart: the Human Heart, Living Mystery at the Center of Self (Reprise)

(Preparing for Friday's Solemnity of the Sacred Heart. Note that references to readings are for another year at this time.)

 Today's ordinary (daily Mass) readings use the text from 2 Corinthians I spoke about earlier this week, namely, "We hold a treasure in earthen vessels so that the surpassing power will be of God and not from ourselves." You may remember that in conjunction with that text and the Feast of Corpus Christi I spoke of Sue Bender's experience of seeing a broken and mended piece of Japanese ceramics. (Marking the Feast of Corpus Christi) She wrote, [[“The image of that bowl,” she writes, “made a lasting impression. Instead of trying to hide the flaws, the cracks were emphasized — filled with silver. The bowl was even more precious after it had been mended.”]]

That image has been with me all this week in prayer and also as I have reflected on the various readings, especially those from Paul. It seems entirely providential to me then that this year today, the day we would ordinarily hear a reading about treasure in earthen vessels, is the Feast of the Sacred Heart. The image of this bowl --- broken, healed, and transfigured  reminds me of the Sacred Heart --- traditionally the most powerful symbol we have of the indivisible wedding of human and divine and of the power of Divine Love perfected and glorified (revealed) in both human and divine weakness; thus it has provided me with a wonderfully new and fresh image of the Sacred Heart and (at least potentially) of our own hearts as well.

The heart is the center of the human person. It is a deeply distinctive anthropo-logical or human reality --- at the center of all truly personal feeling, thought, creativity and behavior. As a physical organ it stands at the center of all physical functions within us as well empowering them, marking them with its pulsing life.

At the same time, it is primarily a theological term. It refers first of all to God and to a theological reality. Of course, it cannot be divorced from the human (and that is the very point!), but theologically speaking, the heart is the place within us where God bears witness to Godself, where life, truth and beauty, love and integrity, call to us and invite us to embrace, embody, and reveal them in our own unique ways. As I have noted before, in some important ways it is not so much that we have a heart and then God comes to dwell there; it is that where God dwells within us and bears witness to Godself, (and where we respond to that mystery deep within us) we have a heart. The human heart (not the cardiac muscle but the center of our personhood) is a dialogical event where moment by moment God speaks, calls, breathes, and sings us into existence and where, in one way and degree or another, we respond to become the people we are and (we hope) are called to be.

Everything comes together in the human heart --- or is held apart and left unreconciled by its distortions and self-centeredness. It is in the human heart broken open by love that the unity between spirit and matter is imagined, achieved, and then conveyed to the whole of creation. Here the division between earth and heaven, human and divine is bridged and healed. It is in the human heart that the unity of body and soul is achieved and celebrated.

The vulnerable and broken human heart is the paradoxical place where everything is brought together in the power and mercy of God's love; it is the place where human life is transfigured and then --- through us and the ministry of reconciliation entrusted to us in Christ --- extended to the whole of creation itself. It is in the human heart that prejudices, biases, bitterness, selfishness, greed and so many other things are brought into the presence of God to be healed and transformed. At least this is the potential of the heart which is meant to be truly human and glorifies God. The human heart is holy ground and despite its limitations, distortions, darknesses, and narrownesses it is meant to shine with the expansiveness of God's creative "Yes!" Here is indeed treasure in earthen vessels.

And if this is true anywhere it is true in the most Sacred Heart of Jesus. The Sacred Heart is the symbol of the reunion of all of reality, the place in that unique life where human life becomes completely transparent to the love of God, the sacrament par excellence of the ministry of reconciliation where human and divine are inextricably wed and exhaustively revealed.

Imagine then an image of the Sacred Heart similar to the image Sue Bender described, a clay pot broken and broken open innumerable times by and to the realities it dares to be vulnerable to and allows to rest within itself. Imagine too that God, that supreme potter refashions it, mends it with his love --- a love that allows the cracks to glow with the light of heaven, a light that transforms the entire pot and all who are touched by its transcendent beauty and truth. This is what we celebrate on today's Feast. The scars will remain, but transfigured --- as though mended with brilliant silver. Light and love, water and blood will pour from this heart and, in time, God will love all of creation into wholeness through Jesus' mediation and through the ministry of each of us who allow our hearts to become the Sacred places God wills them to be.  We "hold" a treasure in earthen vessels. In us the surpassing power of God in Christ is at work reconciling all things to himself.

On Withholding the Truth of Chronic Illness in Order to be Admitted to Profession under c 603 (Reprise)

Originally posted in 2019, this issue was raised again by a different reader, so I have significantly clarified or enlarged on a few points:

 

[[Dear Sister, have you heard of dioceses that refuse to profess hermits because they have a (serious) chronic illness? I am concerned my diocese will not agree to profess me because I am chronically ill so I am thinking about not telling them about this until after profession. What do you think of this idea?]]

Thank you for writing. Assuming the situation (the illness) is a serious matter, I have to say frankly that I think your specific idea is really terrible. While I understand the fear you are experiencing, it makes no sense to approach your diocese with a petition to admit you to eremitical profession while considering withholding important (in this case critical) personal information from them. While not every form of illness needs to be disclosed to the diocese professing you, truly serious illnesses that impact the way you write and live your Rule do need to be disclosed to and understood by your diocese before they agree to profess you. (Not least, any form of chronic illness must be considered and assessed as the diocese discerns one's ability to live the life one proposes to live in the name of the Church. This includes mental illnesses, and certain neurological illnesses or disorders that are progressive in nature, or which are intractable.) To refuse to do this would be tantamount to a lie. Canonically, I believe the Church could determine your profession to be invalid in such circumstances (they could be said to involve fraud), but, as I am not a canonist, I would need to check that out. 

(Addendum:  Canon 656.4 reads: [[For the validity of temporary profession, it is required that, (4) the profession is expressed and made without force, grave fear, or malice (fraud). [[Malice (dolus), also sometimes translated as fraud, in the context of this canon is the deliberate act of lying or of concealing the truth in order . . . for oneself to get permission to make a vow, which would not be permitted if the truth were known. For example, a novice conceals from her superiors some external forum fact that, if known, would result in her not being admitted to profession of vows. Such malice invalidates the profession of vows (cf. C. 656, 4)]] The emboldened portion indicates that a lie in a serious matter of external forum of the kind you might envision would lead to the invalidity of vows. By the way, lies or fraud on the part of others in order to get someone professed, given the qualifications noted, would also constitute grounds that invalidate the profession. 

Canonical matters aside please consider the wisdom and import of approaching public profession while withholding such a significant piece of personal information. If it is serious, your chronic illness is not something peripheral to your life, whether as a hermit or not, but central to it and to the witness you are called to give to the Gospel. Is there a dimension of your life and identity that is not touched by your illness and its requirements?  In light of this, how will you write a Rule of life that binds you in law if you do not include the fact of chronic illness? How will you be bound in obedience to legitimate superiors who do not know this important truth about you? (In this matter consider how they would exercise a ministry of authority --- which is a ministry of love --- if they know you so incompletely or partially and in such a significant matter.)

Moreover, how do you build a relationship of trust which such a vow requires if you withhold such a significant dimension of your life? If you can't be honest in this, you might be determined to be incapable of making such a vow or any profession at all. Also, whom do you expect to be for others who suffer from chronic illness or various forms of isolation? (I know you said you would let folks know the truth after profession, but consider if this is really the model of dealing with chronic illness you want to set for others in their own lives?) What is your relationship with the God of truth whose power is made perfect in weakness? How will you proclaim the freedom from fear such a God inspires?

Finally, please consider that many diocesan hermits have chronic illnesses while others are aging and becoming more or less disabled in this way. We are finding our way in this as in many things. In my experience, dioceses do not usually refuse to profess a person simply because of a chronic illness if that person can live the central elements and spirit of eremitical life at the same time. Some illnesses will not allow this (nor will some vocations), but since a major part of eremitical solitude is its distinction from isolation, most of us find that chronic illness is something eremitical life can redeem in ways that allow illness to be a significant witness to the individual's true value even (and maybe especially) when eremitical life does not occasion healing from the illness itself. If one cannot risk being truthful in this matter it may suggest that one is simply not suited to the risk of eremitical life itself or the radical honesty it demands --- at least not at this point in time. On the other hand, if one's diocese is talking about making a blanket rejection of chronically ill hermits, perhaps it is time for candidates to educate them, at least generally, regarding the place of chronically ill hermits in c 603 vocations.

To educate one's diocese in this way, however, means you must live the truth in a transparent way, and doing so long and faithfully enough that you can articulate it clearly for your diocese. Eremitical life itself is edifying; the eremitical life of one who is chronically ill or disabled is meant to be doubly so because it demonstrates what is possible when God is with us in abject human poverty. The basic question your own query raises and which one must answer convincingly will always be, which does one desire more, to live eremitical life and serve the merciful God of truth in this way or to be professed canonically? Canonical profession can and does serve our living out of eremitical life, especially as an ecclesial vocation, but it is a means to the journey of radical truthfulness, authentic selfhood and holiness; it is not the end in itself. You would betray all of that if you had a lie or serious deception at the heart of your profession.

What does it mean to be a "Hermit in an Essential Sense"? (Reprise)

The following question has come up again a couple of times, so I am reposting this from four years ago.

[[Dear Sister when you have spoken of readiness for discernment with a diocese and even temporary profession as a solitary hermit you have said it is necessary for a person to be a hermit in some essential sense. Could you say more about what you mean by this phrase? I think maybe I know what you are talking about but I also find the phrase difficult to define. Thanks!]]

Introduction:

That's such a great and important question! For me personally, articulating the definition of this phrase or the description of what I mean by it has been a bit difficult. It is a positive phrase but in some ways I found my own senses of what I meant by this come to real clarity by paying attention to examples of inauthentic eremitical life, individuals who call themselves hermits, for instance, but who, while nominally Catholic, are isolated and/or subscribe to a spirituality which is essentially unhealthy while embracing a theology which has nothing really to do with the God of Jesus Christ.  To paraphrase Jesus, not everyone who says "Lord, Lord" actually  has come to know the sovereignty of the Lord intimately. In other words it was by looking at what canonical hermits were not and could or should never be that gave me a way of articulating what I meant by "being a hermit in some essential sense." Since God is the one who makes a person a hermit, it should not surprise you to hear I will be describing the "essential hermit" first of all in terms of God's activity.

Related to this then is the fact that the hermit's life is a gift to both Church and world at large. Moreover, it is a gift of a particular kind. Specifically, it proclaims the Gospel of God in word and deed but does so in the silence of solitude. When speaking of being a hermit in some essential way it will be important to describe the qualities of mission and charism that are developing (or have developed) in the person's life. These are about more than having a purpose in life and reflect the simple fact that the eremitical vocation belongs to the Church. Additionally they are a reflection of the fact that the hermit precisely as hermit reflects the good news of salvation in Christ which comes to her in eremitical solitude. If it primarily came to her in another way (in community or family life for instance) it would not reflect the redemptive character of Christ in eremitical solitude and therefore her life could not witness to or reveal this to others in and through eremitical life. Such witness is the very essence of the eremitical life.

The Experience at the Heart of Authentic Eremitism:

Whenever I have written about becoming a hermit in some essential sense I have contrasted it with being a lone individual, even a lone pious person who prays each day. The point of that contrast was to indicate that each of us are called to be covenantal partners of God, dialogical realities who, to the extent we are truly human, are never really alone. The contrast was first of all meant to point to the fact that eremitical life involved something more, namely, a desert spirituality. It was also meant to indicate that something must occur in solitude which transforms the individual from simply being a lone individual. That transformation involves healing and sanctification. It changes the person from someone who may be individualistic to someone who belongs to and depends radically on God and the church which mediates God in word and sacrament. Such a person lives her life in the heart of the Church in very conscious and deliberate ways. Her solitude is a communal reality in this sense even though she is a solitary hermit. Moreover, the shift I am thinking of that occurs in the silence of solitude transforms the person into a compassionate person whose entire life is in tune with the pain and anguish of a world yearning for God and the fulfillment God brings to all creation; moreover it does so because paradoxically, it is in the silence of solitude that one comes to hear the cry of all in union with God.

If the individual is dealing with chronic illness, for instance, then they are apt to have been marginalized by their illness. What tends to occur to such a person in the silence of solitude if they are called to this as a life vocation is the shift to a life that marginalizes by choice and simultaneously relates more profoundly or centrally. Because it is in this liminal space that one meets God and comes to union with God, a couple of things happen: 1) one comes to know one has infinite value because one is infinitely loved by God, not in terms of one's productivity, one's academic or other success, one's material wealth, and so forth, 2) one comes to understand that all people are loved and valued in the same way which allows one to see themselves as "the same" as others rather than as different and potentially inferior (or, narcissistically, superior), 3) thus one comes to know oneself as profoundly related to these others in God rather than as disconnected or unrelated and as a result, 4) chronic illness ceases to have the power it once had to isolate and alienate or to define one's entire identity in terms of separation, pain, suffering, and incapacity, and 5) one is freed to be the person God calls one to be in spite of chronic illness. The capacity to truly love others, to be compassionate, and to love oneself in God are central pieces of this.

The Critical Question in Discernment of Eremitical Vocations:

 What is critical for the question at hand is that the person finds themselves in a  transformative relationship with God in solitude and thus, eremitical solitude becomes the context for a truly redemptive experience and a genuinely holy life. When I speak of someone being a hermit in some essential sense I am pointing to being a person who has experienced the salvific gift the hermit's life is meant to be for hermits and for those they witness to. It may be that they have begun a transformation which reshapes them from the heart of their being, a kind of transfiguration which heals and summons into being an authentic humanity which is convincing in its faith, hope, love, and essential joy. Only God can work in the person in this way and if God does so in eremitical solitude --- which means more than a transitional solitude, but an extended solitude of desert spirituality --- then one may well have thus become a hermit in an essential sense and may be on the way to becoming a hermit in the proper sense of the term as well.

If God saves in solitude (or in abject weakness and emptiness!), if authentic humanity implies being a covenant partner of God capable of mediating that same redemption to others in Christ, then a canonical hermit (or a person being seriously considered for admission to canonical standing and consecration) MUST show signs of these as well as of having come to know them to a significant degree in eremitical solitude.  It is the redemptive capacity of solitude (meaning God in solitude) experienced by the hermit or candidate as  "the silence of solitude"  which is the real criterion of a vocation to eremitical solitude. (See other posts on this term but also Eremitism, the Epitome of Selfishness?) It is the redemptive capacity of God in the silence of solitude that the hermit must reflect and witness to if her eremitical life is to be credible.

Those Putative "Hermits" not Called to Eremitical Solitude:

For some who seek to live as hermits but are unsuccessful, eremitical solitude is not redemptive. As I have written before the destructive power of solitude overtakes and overwhelms the entire process of growth and sanctification which the authentic hermit comes to know in the silence of solitude. What is most striking to me as I have considered this question of being a hermit in some essential sense is the way some persons' solitude and the label "hermit" are euphemisms for alienation, estrangement, and isolation. Of course there is nothing new in this and historically stereotypes and counterfeits have often hijacked the title "hermit".  The spiritualities involved in such cases are sometimes nothing more than validations of the brokenness of sin or celebrations of self-centeredness and social failure; the God believed in is often a tyrant or a cruel judge who is delighted by our suffering -- which he is supposed to cause directly -- and who defines justice in terms of an arbitrary "reparation for the offences" done to him even by others, a strange kind of quid pro quo which might have given even St Anselm qualms.

These "hermits" themselves seem unhappy, often bitter, depressed and sometimes despairing. They live in physical solitude but their relationship with God is apparently neither life giving nor redemptive -- whether of the so-called hermit or those they touch. Neither are their lives ecclesial in any evident sense and some are as estranged from the Church as they are from their local communities and (often) families. Because there is no clear sense that solitude is a redemptive reality for these persons, neither is there any sense that God is really calling them to eremitical life and the wholeness represented by union with God and characterized by the silence of solitude. Sometimes solitude itself seems entirely destructive, silence is a torturous muteness or fruitlessness; in such cases there is no question the person is not called to eremitical solitude.

Others who are not so extreme as these "hermits" never actually embrace the silence of solitude or put God at the center of their lives in the way desert spirituality requires and witnesses to. They may even be admitted to profession and consecration but then live a relatively isolated and mediocre life filled with distractions, failed commitments (vows, Rule), and rejected grace. Some instead replace solitude with active ministry so that they really simply cannot witness to the transformative capacity of the God who comes in silence and solitude, much less the silence of solitude. Their lives thus do not show evidence of the incredibly creative and dynamic love of God who redeems in this way but it is harder to recognize these counterfeits. In such cases the silence of solitude is not only not the context of their lives but it is neither their goal nor the charism they bring to church and world. Whatever the picture they have never been hermits in an essential sense.

Even so, all of these lives do help us to see what is necessary for the discernment of authentic eremitical vocations and too what it means to say that someone is a hermit in some essential sense. Especially they underscore the critical importance that one experiences God's redemptive intimacy in the silence of solitude and that one's life is made profoundly meaningful, compassionate, and hope-filled in this way.

Prior's Homily: Cyprian Consiglio on the Solemnity of St Romuald --- Positive Disintegration and Reform

[[I’ve been thinking about the lobster again recently, and one of the most powerful images I ever heard about times of transition. The lobster, as you may know, has an exoskeleton: it’s held together from the outside. And every now and then it has to molt its shell and grow a new one. In order to do that it fills itself up with water until it pops off its shell––and in the course of the operation it pops out its eyes, too. And it sinks to the bottom of the ocean where it has to lie there, naked and blind, and totally vulnerable, to wait for the new exoskeleton to grow around it, a new form, you might say. It’s a moment of incredible vulnerability and, if a lobster is capable of such a thing, a moment that requires immense trust that this new form is going to grow around it while it lies there blind and naked and absolutely vulnerable.

We think of Saint Romuald not only as the founder of our congregation but as a reformer within the greater world of Benedictine monasticism. It occurred to me recently that the word “reform” has a kind of double meaning to it; it could be a positive thing or it could be negative. The negative sense is that we assume some person or some institution has gotten off course, and so it needs to repent, be corrected, as in sending someone to “reform school” to change their ways.

But in some way, that’s also the positive meaning of it: to re-form could mean to go back to basics and form all over again, like a musical group that breaks up and then re-forms, maybe with a slightly different line-up but hopefully with renewed energy,[1] like a lobster growing a new shell around itself. And even the word “de-form” can have a positive meaning to it, kind of like our rather unpoetic translation of Romuald’s advice in the Brief Rule. Our usual translation of the famous line in it is “Empty yourself completely and sit waiting…” but the Latin is actually destrue… It’s too easy to simply translate that as “destroy,” and obviously out of character with everything else we know about healthy asceticism (though the Italians translate it annientati–annihilate yourself!). But as Thomas and I came up with some years ago in a decidedly unpoetic translation, destrue is the opposite of “construct,” not necessarily as harsh as “destruct,” but better “deconstruct.”

Hence, “deconstruct yourself completely” and sit waiting, like that lobster, blind and naked on the floor of the ocean. And so de-form; sometimes we have to be active about it: instead of forming something, let’s first de-form, un-form, take this form apart or let this form die, and start all over again from the basic building blocks––even if it means we are blind, naked and vulnerable for a time, trusting that the new form will build around us.

I got some of this idea from an article that our Br. Will gave me recently, “A comparison between the Zen Buddhist Ten Oxherding Pictures and the Theory of Positive Disintegration” of the Polish psychiatrist (and poet) Kazimierz Dabrowski. I love the image of positive disintegration. Sometimes de-forming or dis-integrating is the best thing for us, because we’ve turned into a form that we were never meant to be, or we’ve not become what we set out to be, so we need to de-construct, de-form, dis-integrate, and give ourselves a chance to re-integrate, to re-form.

It’s the ongoing work of conversatio, really. And of course that is how we translate that strange word for our monastic vow of conversatio––we vow to “reform our lives,” and it’s an ongoing conversation. When the monastic way warns us that we’ve left the right path we need always to be willing to turn around, re-find the right one, and start out all over again. We need to sometimes do this each and every day.

I turned fifty at old Camaldoli in Tuscany in 2008 and almost everyone that I met that day quoted the opening lines Dante’s Divina Commedia to me which the poet David Whyte loves to quote when he is talking about aging: Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita / Mi ritrovai per una selva oscura / Ché la diritta via era smarrita: “At the middle of the path of our life / I found myself in a dark forest / because the right way was lost.”

Saint Romuald of course first enters a monastery under the Cluniac reform and observance, which we can assume was pretty heavy on ceremony and liturgy. He leaves because he doesn’t find the monks observant enough, but he doesn’t leave monastic life altogether, nor does he immediately go to another monastery. And poignantly, he does not go off on his own but under a master. Going to Venice with the hermit Marino and living the eremitical life was actually going back to the basics of the monastic impulse––fasting, praying, solitude, psalmody, in simplicity, without all the decorations and ceremonial. And then he can start all over again from there, and wait for a new form, or new forms, to grow up around that experience. When he starts his reforming of other monastic communities and even of his giving some container to the various hermits and hermitages populating Italy at the time, he comes back to the Rule of Benedict––but without the straitjacket of observance of Benedict of Aniane, for instance, or all the ceremonial exuberance of Cluny.

But the beautiful thing about it is again our charism of the dear Three-Fold Good: his re-forming doesn’t take the typical form of other Benedictine traditions at the time. Yes, it did take the form of community, perhaps in a more austere and simplified way. It also took the form of a move into greater and greater solitude even to the point of reclusion, while still under the Rule and an abbot. It also took the form of missionary martyrdom as some of our first monks longed for from the beginning, with Romuald easily enfolding them in his family. Holding all those forms together has always been a challenge for us throughout our history. But just as new forms emerged then, so new forms can still emerge now. I always think of Shantivanam and how easily the ashram model folded into our congregation.

All this is similar to the great work of ressourcement––going back to the sources––that went on with our forebears especially in the 20th century leading up to the Second Vatican Council, in and outside of monasticism, in the greater world of theology and especially in the liturgical renewal: to strip off the unnecessary accretions that have built up around us––and that is a delicate work, discerning what is essential and what is not, what was a healthy growth and what was simply a barnacle on the side of the ship. So in a sense to de-form, dis-integrate for a moment so as to recover something of the pristine original energy––of Christianity, of the liturgy, of monasticism––and see what new form they all might take in a new world, in a new culture, with whatever positive attainments we might have gained with our post-Enlightenment, post-modern mentality, with whatever advances we may have made in our understanding of human growth through depth psychology, with whatever evolution of our spiritual consciousness might have taken place with our modern explorations in the spirituality of Asia and other cultural influences outside of Europe, for instance. What new forms could emerge from these influences?

And especially, for religious, a reference to the originally inspired tradition was exhorted so as to initiate dialogue in contemporary situations. I continue to find that a fascinating formula: to go back to the source so as to be relevant for today.

Another of the ressourcements that took place at the Second Vatican Council in religious life––oddly enough that it should even have had to––was to go back to Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, and to the Gospels. As a matter of fact, the document Ecclesia Sancta (1966) felt the need to urge study and meditation on the Gospel for all religious, from the time of novitiate on. Partially this was because this had not been a major emphasis for Catholic religious up ‘til then for hundreds of years, and one has to wonder, how would a deeper knowledge of the gospel change our view of religious life?

So, what does this mean for us individually and collectively? How many times does this need to happen in our individual lives, for us to be de-formed and re-formed, ché la diritta via era smarrita–– because we have left the right path, deviated from our true path? How often are we called to look at our corporate lives in this way, to judge what needs to be set aside as non-essential, to recover not only our own individual inspiration but the original inspiration of our Romualdian tradition. As Saint Benedict admonishes us, we are always beginning again with the gospel as guide, together and individually, being challenged first and foremost to be converted again to the way of Jesus, the way of self-surrender and service. And then to ask ourselves once again, what was that original monastic impulse? And why Romuald? And why the Camaldolese? And why these people? And why this place, or Incarnation or Monastery of the Risen Christ?

The phrase “the new normal” has crept into our vocabulary since Covid times––but I prefer the idea of “reform.” This is an opportunity for the church, the nation, whole world really, to re-think normal, instead of just going back to things as they were, to re-form, to allow this disintegration to be a positive thing. But let’s focus on us, with Romuald as our guide, to go back to the source, to the sources, once again––to the Gospel, to our original monastic impulse, to what drew us to New Camaldoli or Incarnation or Monastery of the Risen Christ, to what drew us to these brothers and sisters (here and throughout the world) and to come back each day willing to be reformed, re-made, re-newed. As Saint Paul tells us, … if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation. There is new creation––it’s in the present tense; if anyone is in Christ every day everything old passes away; and everything becomes new![2]]]

cyprian 19 june 22