Catholic Hermit: Back in the Saddle

Well, perhaps with an adapted saddle, I am back in the saddle, settled and set for the ride on the narrow path, wherever the Lord leads.

Met with the confessor this morning.  He is impressive; much can be accomplished with this priest in 12 minutes or less.  He's focused, speaks quickly, thoughts direct and effective.  Confession plus guidance and thoughts on hermit vocation, a fitting penance of praying for a week for my eremitic vocation, as there have been distractions as well as major disruptions of past phase requiring hard-and-stripped-down living conditions, and a major surgery with on-going pain to contend with.

But time to immerse all the more in the vocation, give full-rein to the Holy Spirit.  In other words, for me to give myself fully, not with the various distractions.  Now immerse with the focus of which I have desired and known the Lord has given me the mind, heart, capability, as well as discipline...but I have wafted in some ways.

The confessor, a priest in mid-late 50's. and I must admit the most adept and gifted parish priest I've encountered (my late spiritual da was long-past a parish priest when the Holy Spirit brought us together), said do not let some lady in [another state] distract with claims of this or that, or trying to disparage me or my writing; he said that is all rubbish.  He also stated how other hermits of the past were persecuted, and there was no such thing as the 1983 CL603 even in the near-horizon then.

The confessor gave an example of a hermit in the 1800's who was persecuted out of his country--was Italian, he thought but not sure, had recently read an article with this incident mentioned.  He ended up living in a cave in another country, where today people go on pilgrimages to his cave hermitage which has become a shrine.  

The priest pointed out that the hermit was not approved by any bishop or, for that matter, priest or anyone at all but the Lord Himself.  He was as all the hermits of all history--privately professed, traditional, living in hiddenness and the solitude of silence.  He was evidently or mostly unknown in life in his location (relocated in the other country), but was yet to become a gift and inspiration to many after his death.

The confessor added that his advice is that canon laws in a hermit vocation would tend to restrict more than enable the freedom that is to be the Holy Spirit's in guiding a hermit; he said canon law tends to shackle.  Also, other aspects such as pride can arise, or in becoming publicly known, would interfere; there would be more distractions than less, as well.  I pointed out that part of my reasoning was that the Lord had indicated to me that it was not what He willed for me, and showed me in visions and locutions.  I also realized that the CL603 path is not proven or tried over years and centuries as is the privately professed path that has always been the way of the hermits.  

He was in full agreement.  In fact, he had brought up these facts, to which I added my thoughts on it from my lived experience as well as how the Lord twice stepped in, preferring the traditional hermit path. That is settled!  And of course, the traditional, privately professed hermits are as authentic, credible, consecrated in the life of the Church, as are the recent CL 603 diocese hermits. Who knows what future centuries will conclude--if the CL603 publicly professed hermit designation with its added supervisory task of bishops remains as a desirable path for hermits.  Only God knows.

I was given the name and phone number of a priest who had come to his mind a couple weeks ago, as a potential spiritual director my confessor thinks would be good for me.  I called and left a message.  This priest is also a hermit; not a diocese hermit, just a traditional, hidden from the eyes of men in the silence of solitude hermit.  He lives elsewhere, more in a remote area; with my spine situation, I must live with convenience to medical and sustenance supplies.

I had no idea nor did my confessor, if this hermit priest would be willing to or interested in being an occasional mentor/guide to someone.  I called, left a brief message, asked if he would let me know either way.  So I've received a call back, and happens that this hermit priest is staying quite close as is going to himself be having some surgery in a couple weeks (something that is fixable, healable, thanks be to God).  He set up a time for us to meet.  He said we will see what the Holy Spirit desires, of this encounter, and for anything further.

In the meantime, as I'd mentioned to the confessor as example of my wafting about, that I'd even taken steps to get a dog--but the Lord put the kabosh on two such attempts.  It is also true that the Holy Spirit, since yesterday, and my passing through what I needed to grasp of why the notion of a pet and of why to let go of that, of course, for good--has brought back my mind, heart, and soul to settling in; they have not for awhile.  

I'm back with the Liturgy of the Hours.  I'm back with more focused prayer.  Although I cannot be on a strict horarium (hourly schedule of the day, of the hours) due to my pain situation and such as confession this morning at a time one would be praying the Morning Office, I can yet pray the Offices in whatever "hour" it happens to be.  For example, lately I've not been able to sleep until after midnight; the point is, the Lord provides me time that varies, and thus my horarium is flexible but yet much of the spiritual life and my vocational foci, have "time" given by God to be filled with holy use.

Amazing, but in the mailbox upon my return to Solus Deus Hermitage, was a package from the professor who contacted out of the "blue" last summer, few days prior to the spine surgery.  She has sent a volume of the symbolism and ideals involved in St. John of the Cross' writing and thought.  Yes, the Lord has me back in the saddle, and if I know what's good for me, in the saddle I will remain.  Sure beats being dragged along by the reins or my foot only caught in a stirrup, or tossed off and the steed running off into the distance without me!

All is well and all shall be well.  I trust the wisdom and judgment of this confessor.  He is known far and wide as a holy and outstanding priest, experienced, and gifted in leadership and spiritual life.  In fact, I need to research a scripture he mentioned--content, not the book, chapter, verse.  He's a priest plugged into the socket with all prongs....  In tune with His Real Presence:  Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

Praising God, here.  But will try to get up and put away a few more books and read/pray Morning Office.  It's early morning somewhere in the world....  Pain is way up in my body--driving to parish, then to pharmacy for meds that are helping the pain of abdomen (even if intestines remain not working), then sat to pray the Office of Reading, then resting in bed writing this and taking phone call from priest, a hermit, who might be my next spiritual director.

God bless His Real Presence in us!  Little children, let us love one another, for God Is Love!

Catholic Hermit: Anniversary of Profession of Vows

I've been considering, prayerfully as well as more cognitively--consciously--the evening service and ceremony of 18 years ago when I professed my vows and entered the consecrated life as a privately professed eremite.  My spiritual father read Scriptures and presented a short sermon on the life and challenges of a hermit, as well as offered meaningful prayers.  

I participated in the service which was fashioned after the Medieval anchorites' profession and avowal to the hermit life.  Each portion of the service was separated by recitation of Psalms, followed by pertinent Scriptures, then the sermon, my repeating of my vows which include the requisite evangelical counsels of chastity, obedience, and poverty.  

The venerable priest presented a candle which he had me light, signifying the Light of Christ commemorating the ceremony; and he blessed the Crucifix which I wear as the sole, simple, and all-encompassing statement of my particular path in this eremitic vocation which for me is one of much suffering.  Incense was plentifully wafted around the altar and upon me in the old yet beautiful, small monastery chapel; the only lights glimmered upon the altar and tabernacle--and upon the two of us in Christ's Real Presence during this my private and traditional, orthodox avowal.

An unexpectedly heavy snowfall outside created a glorious and memorable effect--manna from heaven, it seemed!  A blessing from the Lord Himself seemed to come upon what will ever be etched in my mind, heart and soul. 

Earlier, in the afternoon, the priest came to my hermitage (at the time) and throughly blessed each room from top to bottom, using Scripture selections along with an initial prayer--following along the tradition of a Medieval anchoritic rite of enclosure.

Each year since, on this evening, I have repeated aloud the vows which included my obedience to my bishop and to dedicate my life according to what the Church requests and requires of those of us in the consecrated life and as eremites, as outlined in the two crucial and pertinent sections in The Catechism of the Catholic Church by which the eremitic vocation is defined and delineated.  

Each year I would light the candle that the priest gave me that night; and I'd pray a thanksgiving for God's having called me to this vocation of which He knew best for reasons I'd not grasp until later as the years have passed--and of which I still am discovering the wisdom of God through the Holy Spirit, in choosing me as one of his consecrated hermits in and for His Church.

But this evening I will not be repeating the written vows--signed by my spiritual father, the priest of many years age even then--nor will I be lighting that candle.  This year the candle and the vows each are in the storage unit--unaccessible and will remain so until, God willing, there will be a hermitage of His choosing for me, and help to remove and unpack the earthly items which include boxes of rare and helpful spiritual books, many items of religious art, the practical stuff of our temporal existences, and the candle and my vows for these years hence and onward.

Thus I have pondered and prayed throughout the day, the significance and wonder of these past 18 years and the year and more prior of discernment and type or form of learning and practicing in increasing degrees, the living out of an eremitic life.  I've also reckoned with the unexpected life situations that have occurred as well as the times in which I'd veer off from what the Lord willed for this Catholic hermit's individualized-by-God, hermit life.  (No two hermits' vocations are the same, and for the Lord's reasons and wisdom just as no two persons' thumbprints are identical.)

In a practical sense, I drove a relatively short distance today to have some solitude in my most comfortable and useful truck.  (It is named Precious Blood upon starting payments on it nearly six years ago--and recently given the added aspect of, in some jest but more truth than humor--my "chapel.")  While driving, the prayer request came--I am convinced from the Holy Spirit--to ask the Lord to choose the hermitage.  Yes, I've prayed this in essence prior, but today it was more a formal prayer, and the welling up within my soul of the conscious necessity to pray this today is of the Holy Spirit--not of my intellect thinking it.  

(I also apologized formally in case the dwelling that I could have already been in for nearly a month now, was my mistake in not trusting it to be the right one--although even in that transaction, I had prayed for the Lord's guidance.  But the devil is quite tricky, and I may have totally mis-figured or become too distracted by human deceptions, for in real estate, deceptions may be more common than not.  Yet that is "too much water over the dam" other than for today's deeply spiritual prayer asking God to choose--yes, asking in a way that I cannot describe further in depth of soul.)

Ah, the temporal comes into our lives--a hermit's life in these our times--as it is not that one can simply go out and find a hut or cave that easily, especially if dealing with disabling suffering or when growing older, or in various practical and prudent aspects such as finances, safety, health, and functionality.  I could go to a desert or into the mountains, or purchase some small parcel of land with woods--but at what inconvenience to others as well as sensibility of myself who cannot sit long to drive or sit to do anything without a pain siege, so how prudent or even possible is such a hermitage location despite being in solitude in nature so appeals to my very soul?

This is the best I can do for now, and I'm most grateful despite the immense challenges and persecutions on-going that I would never have thought possible in being in a room in a home temporarily.  In fact, just while I was writing, my thoughts were disrupted by hearing the boy tell his parents, "I KNOW, I saw [me--this Catholic hermit] do it; I was HERE when [I--this Catholic hermit] did it!"  So I ceased my thoughts and went out into their living area and asked, "Did I do something wrong?  Is there something that I've done that was not right?"

It must have startled them that I heard the nearly teen child tattle on me, but I was told by the head of household, "Yeah, where's my honey dipper?"  

"Oh, I'm sorry!  I was cleaning the kitchen earlier for you, and I washed it.  I can show you where it is."  

I walked to a drawer where all their like-kind implements are kept and pointed it out, and kindly handed it to the one wishing to use it.  I asked, "Where does it belong so that I will not make that mistake again?"  The answer came, "With the honey."  I looked about for the honey, thinking he'd have it on the counter to use it; and I asked, "Where might be the honey?"  "Over there...."  I looked around the counters where I thought "over there" might be.  "No, over there!"  

(Oh. I figured it out.  It is kept in their large walk-in pantry.  Yes, that makes sense the honey would be there.  I have lived many years of life, and admittedly I've had one of those honey dippers before and kept it in a utensil drawer and not with the jar of honey in what in my life of various dwellings, only had kitchen cabinets.  But on my way back to this room which is a protective and prayerful cell to me, I did thank the near-teen for pointing out my error to them, as otherwise I'd not have known and would have caused delay in locating the honey dipper.  I said I appreciate being able to locate it for them, to help.  To that, the mother asked her son after I'd left the living space, "What did [this Catholic hermit aka her parent] SAY to YOU?"  Rather than risk what the near-teen might say, I stepped back in and explained I had thanked him for bringing it to everyone's attention so that I could easily say where the honey dipper could be found so that it could be used for the honey the husband wanted. [I presume tea; he has a bad cough for which I've been privately praying for healing.]  Anyway, it could have been a worse scenario; and I'm praising the Lord within me and claiming a victory for the Lord in that this incident was dealt with before potential untruths or ire developed outside my being able to right my wrong doing and thus create more upset to the hosts.  Yes indeed, this gives a minor whiff of the complications for a hermit's being with others temporarily, even if substantial money was gifted in advance.  The devil loves to distract and disrupt a hermit's prayers and clarity of decisions--such as now, in procuring a hermitage in a totally new, geographic area to learn; and God provides the gift of a most painful type of abnegation and sense of nothingness (nada, nada, nada!) by those in human terms, closest to this hermit.  It is invaluable experience, and I realize all the more how blessed I am to be in this rather stuck-feeling of a situation, for no one has returned phone call yet regarding renting a room, and the apartment rentals are far too costly for me but also up-end my loan application, so the banker has advised against renting in this interim time.  I do have spiritual friends who have offered a room but at such a distance that I could not drive it, and flying would be difficult, as well, particularly at this Christmas Season--now into the Octave.)

With that interlude of present moment trial and awkward but now, thankfully, a past solving of the honey-dipper-location problem, I will set aside what had become in part, meandering thoughts about my profession of vows (private profession) 18 years ago right now, in fact!  Yes, in that time zone, the blessed and holy ceremony with the aged and venerable priest was in progress in this very present moment!

I praise Thee Lord Jesus, God the Father, and the Holy Spirit for bequeathing this eremitic vocation upon me, for chastising me and honing me to the details and nuances of living this vocation as Thou wills it (Trinity: Three-in-One!),  I ask for Thy blessing this night and to renew my vows in whatever spiritual manner--knowing all and knowing my body, mind, heart, and soul desires to fulfill all that Thou desires and wills of my imperfect self amidst sin and suffering yet with the intrepid strength and joy Thou gives me day and night until my time on this earth is finished.  I love Thee, O Holy Trinity!

Now, in an anomaly to my hermit calling, I feel it best to get into my "chapel" truck, Precious Blood, and drive a short distance to another place where there will be sojourners of the temporal world, but where I can walk about for awhile, smiling or listening if anyone needs a smile or listening ear, or speaking a word of encouragement should the opportunity arise.  My physical body needs the exercise of walking, and the bit of tension that filled the living space here a bit ago, could use some diffusing.  I will offer to pick up any food items they might desire while I'm out.  

If before I give my hosts and myself a little "breather," I will pray and ask for wisdom of the Holy Spirit.  I do not want my little jaunt to somehow offend them, worsening tension.  Or, if I get up and am too weary, I will simply bring from my truck a white, scented candle I have stored in there with other of my belongings. (I keep the items I use, including food items they do not enjoy or could have odor, in the truck so as not to take up refrigerator space nor unnecessarily clutter this room).  Regardless of a walk about in the world of holy, human strangers, tonight I will light that white candle, even if not the one my spiritual father blessed, incensed, and gifted me 18 years ago.

God bless His Real Presence in us!  Little children, let us love one another, for God Is Love!