Fra Jerome, Pray for nothing

Despite our hermit lives being lived out differently, nothing has been begging Fra Jerome's intercessions as it leaves Mass daily. The litany grows of those the nothing asks to pray for it.

After 2 and a half hours of weeding the grass and planting some flowers, nothing finished The Hermit of Cat Island. While weeding, thoughts turned to Fra Jerome, in his life thus far read, and found it acceptable that he was so active and known--not that the nothing's acceptance or non means a twit, for it does not! But the thoughts continued of this man's life, and how to someone like John Cyril Hawes, being in solitary for a few days without visitors, would seem very hermit like; and to someone like nothing, having visitors in three months would seem too much! The hermit life, thus, seems to be by degrees, and God adjusts the thermostat for each and every one He calls.

Also, nothing pondered, while pulling weeds in what seemed increasingly hot temps, considered that Fra Jerome's austerities seemed to hone his body to yet more strength and stamina. So nothing continued to dig and pull and plant and water. And drink some water, and discover when ceasing the work, the temp to be 95 F.
Fra Jerome adapted to the austerities, and nothing must force itself to manual labor, as it does nothing good to move about and breathe and sweat. But not in excess. Stability, slowness. And if talk and too much activity is too much for nothing, then DO NOT go there.

The spirits lifted along with the heat index, and once inside in the comfort of air-conditioning, fresh water, ice, and a lunch of black beans, rice, corn and tomatoes (and enough made yesterday for five more days plus black beans to freeze), nothing finished the book.

Glory be to God! How interesting to discover that in Fra Jerome's last six years on earth, he regretted having built his romantic hermitage on the highest hill, regretted being public and known, regretted writing his Soliloquies of a Solitary, regretted allowing a journalist to interview and photograph him for Collier's.

Fra Jerome realized a deeper call to the solitary and hidden life. As his health failed, from so much activity and more so from a poor diet, he was forced to stay in his hermitage more and more. Solitude had become so hard to capture, and now was more dear to him than ever before. He had fan mail as a result of the article published, and some hopefuls wanted to come to Cat Island to be under his direction. But he refused.

In defense of his active and public life, Fra Jerome justified by distinguishing between hermits and anchorites. "He felt that people ought to realize that a hermit is not the same as an anchorite. In the Middle Ages most hermits, although living alone, 'had jobs--looking after lighthouses, bridges, chapels, leper houses, hospitals, even schools. Richard Rolle went in and out of the people's houses. Only anchorites (when walled in) were ipso facto solitaries, and their anchorage always had a window where the people (often of their own town or village) came to pour out their troubles. The sorrows of the world must have sorrowed the anchorites, however much their inmost soul was fixed in union with God...."*

Whether or not a hermit of the 20th century should have been so obviously a hermit in outer appearance, while yet to have encountered the trials that hermits usually face earlier on, Fra Jerome did come to the trials that come in solitude. At age 76, he faced interior temptations. At age 77, he wrote of his dark night of the senses--of being more and more stripped and detached. His remaining love was architecture, of which he expressed strong opinions. But along with his loss of voice, taste, and eventually hearing and failed sight, Fra Jerome lost balance and was no longer allowed to live in his hermitage (per order of his Bishop).

He died on June 26, 1956 in a hospital in Miami, Florida. His body was shipped back to the Bahamas, and after a sung Mass (by his Bishop)in the Cathedral, he was interred in a rock cave near his hermitage, per his instructions.

Nothing ponders on this man's life, and notes his regrets. Especially since it has been told it "must remain hidden", risking anyone suspecting the nothing's vocation is a must-not. Not only did Fra Jerome come under public criticism--and also public fame and fantasy--with his vocation known and a romanticized view at that--but also he learned a hard lesson, but not too late, of the value of what the Catechism calls the stricter separation from the world, in silence and solitude, and assiduous prayer and penance.

Even though Fra Jerome iterated the distinction between hermit and anchorite, the reality blooms in these times that a pure anchorite is not as feasible and doubtful acceptable to Bishops--to allow one to be walled in, to have a cell built up against the Church with a window opening to receive the Host. Yes, a variation is possible, but that would require a hired helper at an expense, and the news would spread world-wide. Anchorites of the Middle Ages were known to their townspeople; internet had not rooted into the culture then!

It seems that even in the 20th century, the image of the hermit ought to have evolved beyond the accoutrements. There are various models of austerity which can remain hidden. If God wills the life to be a sign, He will signal the soul to the world without the soul having to flash a thing. Perhaps the range of eremitic life is now a melding of anchorite and hermit, inclusive--but with variations on the theme, by degrees. That is why it seems necessary to keep always before the eremitic eyes and in the eremitic heart the designation made in The Catechism of the Catholic Church for consecrated life, sp. eremitic life.

Had this Catechism been available in 1940 when Fra Jerome felt the call to hermit life, he may have fought to be more hidden. Yet always there is growth in the process, for Fra Jerome came to that stricter separation from the world, interiorly, in his last three or four years. However, the solitude that he realized as a necessary part of eremitic life--for its interior, spiritual lessons--was taken from him due to regretted publicity and then critically poor health.

Nothing will continue to ponder Fra Jerome's life, in all goodness, growth, encouragements--and regrets. Yes, Fra Jerome, pray for nothing!

Anson, Peter F. The Hermit of Cat Island: The Life of Fra Jerome Hawes. 1957. New York: P.J. Kenedy & Sons, p. 261.