One of the many reasons I still like to be in the classroom with students is the chance to help the younger ones learn what I learned. Of course, that is not to say everything I learned or know is worth someone else learning it. Some things I know are useless or other things are irrelevant. I grew up in a different time and place. It would be virtually impossible to live as long as I have lived and still be the same. In fact, I am still intentionally and, as rigorously as I can, learning new things and trying to grow as a person.
Recently in class, we were reading The Cloister Walk by Kathleen Norris. This is still one of my favorite books. Norris recounts two different extended stays in a Benedictine monastery in Minnesota, St John’s. While I never have been there, I know it fairly well. And I have a rather long experience of being with Benedictines and actually am a Benedictine oblate. In the discussion of a passage, a student innocently asked, “what is a hermit?” I smiled because this is exactly the kind of question I would have had when I was eighteen. Growing up as a Quaker in Indiana meant there was little likelihood I would have any acquaintance with hermits!
I tried to affirm her question and then added, a hermit is someone who chooses to live in the desert, wilderness or typically on the margins of society. It is not inherently a religious word, but certainly has played a significant role in that world. In the fourth and fifth centuries of the Christian era, hermits became rather normal. Christianity had been legitimized in the Roman Empire, so serious Christians looked for ways to imitate Christ---his life as they read it in the New Testament. These folks were concerned that they would sell out to their culture or be co-opted by that culture.
It was a good discussion, but I did not think much more about it. I have never considered being a hermit, although as an introvert, sometimes people think I live somewhat a hermit-like existence. I am happy with myself. I certainly like to be with friends and enjoy being part of a group or team which is working on interesting things. I am not anti-social, but I don’t think it is appropriate to conclude all hermits are anti-social. They simply have a different aim in life than being social. They don’t care about many of the things most folks spend a great deal of time caring about---clothes, and all that stuff.
If I ponder our contemporary culture, I can conclude we spend a great deal of our time and resources on things like how we look, what we do, social media cultivating our appearances and reputations and all that stuff. If pressed, we might admit it is not as important as we think it might be (or fear it might be). There is some fear that we will be left out or left alone. Many of us fear being lonely, rather than opting for a hermit-like life. As I ponder it from where I sit, celebrities take it to the logical conclusion. They are the prettiest (Hollywood) or the fittest (professional sports). In this competition, the rest of us are wannabes.
A hermit chooses an alternative kind of life. Instead of fame, the hermit opts for a life that is hidden from the world. A spiritual hermit only cares about being known by God. Being known by anyone else is not anything they care about. In fact, that would be a misplaced aspiration. Being famous is like fool’s gold. You can get it, but it is worthless. So much of the spiritual life is paradoxical. The hermit is a fool in the eyes of most of us. He or she is going after something we consider stupid or misguided. I think a wise hermit would only smile.
All this was on my mind when I read a very brief piece about the very old, retired Pope Benedict XVI. A report from Rome indicated that “Benedict penned an Oct. 2 letter to a German priest, thanking him for letting him know of the passing of the Rev. Gerhard Winkler, a Cistercian priest and academic colleague of the former Joseph Ratzinger.” Benedict is an interesting guy. He was a rather famous theology professor in Germany (Joseph Ratzinger), a high-ranking prelate at the Vatican and then was selected Pope. Surprisingly, in 2013 he retired. At the time of writing this letter, Benedict was 94 years old. To most of us he is now Pope Benedict XVI. Before then, he was Joseph Ratzinger. To Gerhard Winkler he was a buddy. Now I smile. I think I would rather be a buddy than a famous professor, much less Pope!
The Pope said that Winkler was his closest friend. What a tribute to Winkler! And then Benedict added, “Now he has reached the afterlife, where many friends certainly await him. I hope I can join them soon.” This is one way to express hope in the resurrection. The resurrection is reunion, it is friendship---two buddies getting together again. I could opt for that version of the classical Christian doctrine.
Interestingly, the Pope is now living an intriguing “in-between time.” He is between having been Pope and soon being dead. The Pope is living out the vow he took when he left the papacy. He is keeping the commitment to be “hidden to the world.” In effect, he has chosen to be a hermit. Again, I smile. And it gives me an idea. Maybe becoming a hermit is a better option than simply retiring.
Too often when folks retire, they jump on other treadmills of volunteering, maniacal traveling and the like. They continue to chase things that don’t matter or don’t last. I am going to consider more seriously being a hermit. A hermit is not necessarily a recluse. I would be willing to see others---as Benedict does. But I want to get ready for my reunion---to be with my buddies. Meanwhile and still “in-between time,” I will keep making new buddies with students and others. I am fine being hidden from the world.
https://www.ncronline.org/news/people/retired-pope-benedict-pens-letter-about-his-own-death
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