From Two Years Ago Today

The tiniest hermit:

I see my own prayers as small on the grand scale of the prayers that fall on the ears of God. Tiny chirps from a speck of dust.

Yet, I know they are heard, because they are answered. Maybe not on the schedule I wish them to be, but all of them are eventually answered.

It is not for this selfish reason that I pray, although I know that God, in It's grace hears my tiny prayers, but that I might through prayer ease a tiny amount of another's suffering; lift a broken soul, comfort an aching heart or maybe even change a life for the better.

The thought of all of this imparts to me the smallest glimpse the sweetest joy of union with my God, if only for a single, tiny moment.

A Holy Observance

Lent and Advent are my favorite liturgical seasons. Lent more so because of its message of hope in the mercy of God, Who is loving and merciful to any who would ask.

I do not "give up" things for Lent; I take on new practices such as more prayer, acting with a stricter decorum, and doing more kindness for others. The things I do my best to abstain from are anger, jealousy (which is a huge stumbling block for me), and bitterness.

This year my goal for Lent is to deepen my monastic practice. I have taken on an extra daily prayer office which is done in silence in the middle of the night. By doing so I hope to gain a deeper reverence for my own monastic practice, as well as to join those monks and nuns who are more austere in their communal practices of prayer.

I have also taken on more solitude, in hopes that the silence I experience will lead me closer to the heart of the Creator, also known as Carmel, so that I might find the deep and resounding joy that many others have experienced in this way. As I mentioned in an earlier post, loneliness can be transformed into holy solitude through prayer and meditation, and if we have faith in a Divine Being, we are never truly alone.

I share all of this with you, dear readers, so that you might also find hope during this season the spiritual desert. Be glad and give thanks for even the smallest things in your life, for gratitude leads to joy.

A Strange Set of Vows

The community to which I belong is bound by three vows: Simplicity, Listening and Stewardship. These are not the traditional monastic vows of Poverty, Chastity and Obedience, but are important to our community in the same way that the more traditional vows are honored by other monastic orders.

Our vow of listening begins and ends in being able to observe silence and holy solitude. This vow dictates that we listen for the will of our Creator in our lives, that we listen to our own consciences, and that we listen earnestly to those who are in need of a friendly ear.

The last part of this vow is especially important to us. Being able to listen with sincerity instead of simply remaining silent in wait for our turn to speak is counter-cultural in this day and age. Authentically hearing someone who is in distress builds trust between those involved in the conversation, and it can alleviate suffering in a small way. The first word of the Rule of St. Benedict is "listen", and I believe that this is no accident. The act of listening is a good and holy thing for all monastics as well as secular people, and is largely a lost art in the age of smart phones and "me, my, I" attitudes.

The vow of simplicity is similar to the vow of poverty, however I feel is it a little more practical for a dispersed community. When our homes become our hermitages, we go through a process of simplifying our lives in order that we may focus on prayer and action rather than things. We keep what is practical for our day to day needs, but we declutter things that are not needed such as a large amount of secular clothing for those that choose to wear the monastic habit. When our environments are free from clutter, we are able to focus our attention to prayer, meditation, or service to others rather than objects which distract us from our work as monastics.

The vow of stewardship is one that is a bit more complicated. This vow dictates that we care for the people in our lives, our personal health, and the environment in which we live. Actions such as reducing the amount of garbage we generate is one example; caring for a sick friend or relative is another. Stewardship keeps us accountable for our actions or for inaction, and demands that we act with care for ourselves, our neighbors, and our world.

Lastly, there is an unspoken custom of obedience in the community to which I belong. This means obedience to our Creator, to our Abbot and to our consciences. While obedience is not a vow in and of itself, it is a monastic discipline that has been around as long as there have been monks and nuns.

For example, in "The Sayings of the Desert Fathers", there is a tale of an Abbot who tells one of his monks to go and water a dead branch. The monk does so day after day, and eventually the branch bears fruit, which the monk brings back to share with his fellow monks. The Abbot invites them to eat it by saying "come and eat the fruit of obedience".

We do not blindly follow the orders of a controlling overlord. We rely heavily on the practice of discernment and community dialogue. Fairness is an important factor when the Abbot makes a decision to be followed. The same can not be said for the will of our creator and our own consciences; there is very little gray area involving obedience in these ways.

I invite you to reflect on how these vows might impact your life were you to profess them, and to comment below with your findings.

The Monastic Habit

Many people recognize a worker by what clothes they wear. For example, a railroad engineer wears a distinct uniform, and nearly everyone knows them by the uniform they wear. The same can be said for monks and nuns; we wear a very distinct kind of clothing that identifies us as vowed religious. While not everyone knows what our clothes represent, many people recognize the monastic habit and are curious about the person wearing it.

The habit is intended to be a sign of simplicity. Many monks and nuns do not own secular clothing, and thus rely on the habit as their daily wear. For the dispersed monk or nun, the habit is optional, however many choose to wear it over secular clothing. For many it provides the same simplicity as the cloistered monk or nun. Those who wear the habit do not need to spend time picking out their clothes for the day, and likewise do not need to impress anyone with the holy clothing that they wear.

The habit is NOT intended to be worn as an item of social status or to attract attention to one’s self. Wearing a habit for these reasons demeans the nature of the cloth, and only serves to boost the ego of the person wearing it.

The habit IS meant to bring about humility in the person wearing it; the simplicity and unflattering nature of a monastic habit ought to bring a person down to earth and enforce the idea that the person wearing it belongs to their Creator and not to a social club or particular status of ego.

In closing, I would like to challenge any of you who wear the monastic habit to examine your intentions when it comes to wearing it. Do you seek the praise and curiosity of those around you, or do you seek to serve as a witness to the love of, and total belonging to your Creator?

Loneliness Vs. Holy Solitude

The life of a hermit, or any monk or nun for that matter, can be lonely. The call to solitude and silence can be ominous, especially for the novice monastic. At this point in my monastic career, I have become accustomed to solitude and silence, however that does not mean that I do not still get lonely from time to time.

I will admit that it has taken me many, many years to convert my loneliness into holy solitude. This is done through prayer and meditation, as well as talking candidly with my spiritual director about my monastic way of life and the ups and downs it brings into my life.

The Rule of St. Benedict teaches that a monk or nun is always be praying, whether it is during liturgical prayer (such as the Divine Office), manual labor, Lectio Divina (also called Sacred Reading) or while doing a craft such as painting or knitting, prayer is to always be at the heart of what a person is doing.

This teaching has helped me greatly concerning loneliness vs. holy solitude. The more often I pray, the less lonely I am. I believe this is because in prayer, we are joined to the heart of God, which connects us to everything in Creation.

The community to which I belong in dispersed, meaning we live apart from one another. To add to that, there are great distances between us, with some of us in the United States, some in Canada, one in the Dominican Republic and one in Egypt. We don't exactly get to have face-to-face fellowship, so we chat online or over the phone instead.

Even though these channels of communication are always open to us, we don't always use them. I believe this is because of our vocation as hermits is to seek out solitude and silence, rather than chatting just to fill the empty spaces in our day. This is as it should be for hermits.

In closing, I would invite each of you to take 10 minutes out of your day to be completely alone and completely silent. This includes silence from your smartphones and other electronic devices. With practice, you may find that your outlook on life is more tempered and calm.