hermit

Out of This World: The Life of a Hermit

The only hermits left in the world are hermit crabs, right? Nope – the Church still has hermits around the world. What exactly IS a hermit?

According to the Catechism of the Catholic Church (which, by the way, refers to this life as the “eremitic life’), hermits “devote their life to the praise of God and salvation of the world through a stricter separation from the world, the silence of solitude and assiduous prayer and penance.” Hermits (a term that can refer to either a man or woman) live apart from everyone. Some live under the care of religious orders (such as Carmelites and Trappists), living in community, while withdrawing from the world. Hermits  do not take necessarily take religious vows.

Author Theresa Thomas describes her sister Mary’s life as a hermit in our modern world:

The hermit’s life of silence and solitude is not absolute. Mary’s life follows a plan of life daily including times of complete silence/solitude, but also allows for times of “work” which can include manual labor, language study, works of mercy if a dire need arises, personal spiritual growth, and some very limited spiritual correspondence/direction with people seeking help, as well as occasionally giving retreats or talks, all under the direction of the bishop.

Mary lives a simple life. She dresses plainly, although she has no formal “habit”. Some of the younger nieces and nephews (she has more than 50) call her “Auntie Brown” because of the shades-of-brown clothes and sandals or boots that she wears most of the time. She’s allowed to have some visit time – just not much, and she doesn’t attend social events, parties or get togethers, as a general rule.

The life of a hermit is deeply rooted in Christian history. St. John of the Cross, known for his classic spiritual writing The Dark Night of the Soul, lived as a hermit in Egypt in the 4th and 5th centuries.  There are hermits among us today, but the very essence of their life means they are hidden. We will not see their lives broadcast on social media or the evening news.

Father Cyprian Consiglio is the prior of the New Camalodi Hermitage in Big Sur, Calif., a community of 16 hermits who try to spend half of their day in community work and the other half in personal prayer and study…

Solitude is primary spent in each of the hermit’s personal cells. The cells in a Camaldolese hermitage are separated from each other and have a garden. These physically separate dwellings make the hermitage look something like a monastic village, according to Brother Ignatius Tully.

“Each of our cells has a sleeping area, chapel, bathroom, a central space for daytime activities or studies,” he said.

Sister Mariam, a hermit in Oregon, begins her day at 4 a.m. and continues to pray both formally and informally until 8:30 in the evening. She says that being apart from the world means fewer distractions. It also means one has a lot of time to work on their own sinfulness.

“Basically our broken humanity needs to undergo a deep cleansing and purification process, especially if we desire to dwell in deeper union with God,” Sister Mariam says.

On the other hand, she says, it’s a relief to know we’re not perfect.

“I was broken, but I learned that our God is the most tender, most gracious, most loving God and spouse,” she says. “If we don’t run away and if we continue to say ‘fiat,’ (so be it), he gently, ever so gently, takes us through our bumbling, our vulnerability, our dysfunctions and our woundedness and creates us anew, into the image and likeness that we were first created in.  Believe me, this is no easy work. It is the cross.”

While very few are called to the eremitic life, we can all learn something from these souls. The need to shut out the world and connect with God is a necessary part of the Christian life.  Scripture, prayer and silence: they’re not just for hermits.

silent

Silent Saints: Knowing God Within

Some saints are prolific writers, and we treasure their works. Some, like Thomas Aquinas, help us understand the mystery of God better. Other saints, like Maximilian Kolbe, find ways to use media in a new way in order to spread the Gospel. Or think of Mother Angelica, who founded a Catholic television station and hosted a show.

And then, there are the silent saints.

The Gospels do not record one single word spoken by St. Joseph, the foster father of Jesus. We know him only by his actions. The Gospel of Matthew tells us he is a “righteous man,” and his tender care of Mary and the newborn Jesus bear that out. Most of this man’s life is hidden from us, including his thoughts and words. Yet he was chosen by God to raise the Son of God. This silent saint, who listened to God in the silence of his heart, tells us much about how to live our faith under trying circumstances.

Another silent saint is Mary.

Mary’s words are recorded in four passages in the Bible. Three of the four passages are from the Gospel of Luke: the Annunciation, when she speaks with the angel (Luke 1:34 and 38); her visit to Elizabeth, when Mary sings the psalm of praise known as the Magnificat (Luke 1:46-55); and the time that Jesus is lost in the Temple and Mary admonishes him (Luke 2:48).

We also find Mary speaking in the Gospel of John, during the story of the Wedding at Cana. She tells Jesus that there is no more wine (John 2:3) and then tells the servers, “Do whatever he tells you” (John 2:5) — which, as someone once told me, is perhaps the best bit of advice in the entire Bible.

Of course, the gospels also tell us that Mary kept many things in her heart to ponder. In the Holy Family, the quiet must have led them to great contemplation of God and His will for their lives. One wonders if this habit of silence was one of the reasons Jesus often left everything behind to go and pray by Himself.

St. John the Silent (his name tells you something, huh?) was born in 5th century Armenia. At the young age of 28, he was sought out by the archbishop to become a bishop, an assignment John did not want. However, he served for nine years, and then joined a monastery, seeking seclusion for prayer. It is recorded that, during his life, he spent 76 years in solitude.

Of course, Catholics have the great history of the monastic tradition: Trappists, Carmelites, Benedictines and other orders of men and women whose main focus is prayer and work, done mostly in silence. Why the silence? One monastic priest says:

In my daily work the habit of silence (I’ve been here 35 years) helps me to focus, even to put aside pre-occupying worries while I concentrate on a particular responsibility. That can be preparing the community’s meal, typing the entries for our website, hearing confessions, preparing a class for the novitiate, chanting the psalms at community prayers when I have a cold, whatever. But I have learned that I started out with certain powers of concentration, so I may not be too accurate here; I grew up in NYC and it’s second nature to me to block out background noise. But I can say that the habit of silence keeps me from seeking additional noise. I’m not uneasy when it’s very quiet or when I’m totally alone. But I don’t find silence making tasks easier to complete.

The silence does make me aware of my inner workings, however, what we call in the monastery, “self-knowledge.” I can’t pretend that I’m always a nice guy, always patient, always calm and receptive. I have to admit that I can be abrupt, cold to offenders, or would often prefer efficiency to the messiness of other people’s moods. Silence seems to keep me from idealizing myself.

St. Mary Clare, a Carmelite nun, acknowledges that the silence can be hard. Our world is so full of noise that silence can seem empty. We want to fill it with something. For monastics, however, the silence is quite different:

Through silence we become more deeply aware of the beauty, unity, goodness and truth all around us and within us. Through faith our whole outlook on life is changed. What used to appear as ordinary, temporal events, become reflections of these four attributes of God. These happenings become messages through which He speaks intimately to our hearts; moments of sublime personal contact with Infinite Love Itself.

Listening to the word in silence, faith and love, we hear the secret to our happiness and authentic personal fulfillment. Only in this do we truly begin to fill that deep void and satisfy the longing that consumes us as human persons.

Now it is true that most of us are not called to the monastic life. But we all need silence. Silence is the only way God can truly speak to us, just us, with our own unique message. Yes, we hear God in prayer and song and Scripture and in other’s voices, but … silence. Silence is where God dwells. If we want to know God, we must turn to silence.

But the word of the Lord came to him: Why are you here, Elijah? He answered: “I have been most zealous for the Lord, the God of hosts, but the Israelites have forsaken your covenant. They have destroyed your altars and murdered your prophets by the sword. I alone remain, and they seek to take my life.” Then the Lord said: Go out and stand on the mountain before the Lord will pass by.

There was a strong and violent wind rending the mountains and crushing rocks before the Lord was not in the wind; after the wind, an earthquake—but the Lord was not in the earthquake; was not in the fire; after the fire, a light silent sound. (1 Kings 19:9-12)