From Bl. Paul Giustiniani on the hermit life as quoted in Dom Leclercq’s Alone with God (excerpts from ch. II, “The Hermit’s Role in the Church”; quotes by Giustiniani, italics by Leclercq):
“Some receive contemplation alone, that is the soul’s respose in God; others receive action only, which consists of tiling for God in external affairs; some are granted now one, then the other: contemplation for a time and action for a time, but never both together.”
Another fact, therefore, becomes self-evident: within the unity of Christian life there are many states of life differing in form and activity, but all animated by the same spirit, that divine life bestowed and communicated by Jesus Christ through His Church. On one common foundation of Christian duty is erected the threefold structure of Christiana vita, relgiosa vita, and eremitica vita. Each transcends the other: the second and third are added to the first and must never depart from it….The holiness which belongs to every state of life is possible because they all share in the same life of Christ within the one holy Church. Without the fait and the practice of Christian duties, without submission to the Church, no way of life, however sublime it may appear, can possibly lead to salvation.
“It is not the same to speak of men and of their state of life. When we say religious life is more perfect than secular life, we compare one state of life to another state of life. But we do not mean that every religious is more perfect than all seculars. For we are sure that in a less perfect state of life there are men more perfect than those who live in a more perfect state. We believe that many married persons are more perfect than some who are widowed, and yet the state of widowhood is superior to that of marriage.”
What, then, is the place of hermit life among the various Christian vocations? It is one form of the religious state and therefore differs basically from secular life. Its essential excellence stems not from solitude for its own sake, but from the fact that it is a religious life. A man may be a solitary without being a religious, and consequently without following a higher state of life. In Giustiniani’s time there were two kinds of Christians leading a secular life in the world: men immersed in tasks of an active life, living with their families and moving in society; then again other men who were living as hermits without really being such. As their way of life was not backed by the authority of the Church it was fraught with danger….
“We must consider religious life on the one hand, and secular life on the other hand; then contemplative life, and finally active life….If we compare first religious life to secular life we can easily find that the holy Fathers and the Church itself have defined that religious life is more perfect and safer. To differ from their opinion would be not only imprudent, but impious….If now we wish to compare active and contemplative life, we may be sure that, in spite of all the controversy on this subject, the final word is still Our Lord’s promise: ‘Mary has chosen the better part and it shall not be taken away from her.’ As to activity, there is no doubt that works of spiritual mercy, as they are commonly called, should be preferred to all works of corporal mercy. Thus in the secular state, among the various ways of life it is more perfect to be occupied in spiritual affairs than in corporal affairs. Nevertheless this state of life is still very imperfect, principally because the secular state in itself is a great obstacle to the works of spiritual mercy. Similarly in the religious state: those who practice the works of corporal mercy are in a state of perfection, but their works are imperfect, especially because such works hinder the perfection of their state. Whence I conclude that pure contemplative life would be most perfect, if our fragile nature were capable of it. But since the human mind, particularly those who have lived too long in a worldly way, cannot remain always in a state of contemplation, the perfect life is found among those who, in the religious state, practice contemplation as much as possible and who, during the intervals when they descend from their lofty heights, perform works of spiritual mercy.”
Such is the hermit’s way of life. Because it is a form of religious life, it is quite distinct from all secular life, whether the latter be solitary or not. Its essential value derives, not from its particular form, but from the fact that it is a state of life approved by the Church. Like all forms of religious life, it requires three inseparable elements: the vows, a rule approved by the Church, and government by superiors whose authority is sanctioned by the rule and whom all must obey. Giustiniani often had to insist upon these three elements, as he reacted against the defects of what he called “secular hermits.” At almost all times there have been Christians who have renounced worldly activity, though they do not wish and often are not able to lead a life determined by a rule. Some of them have attained sanctity in this path: in the first day s of Oriental monasticism, for instance, various ascetics achieved great virtue in spite of and sometimes by means of very eccentric behavior….But these instances were always considered exceptions. Monastic reformers and lawgivers warned against the dangers of any solitary life that lacked the safeguard of a rule and a lawful superior. There were solitaries of this kind in Giustiniani’s day and he often exhorted them to enter religious life. In his first Rule he declared his intention of making a place for them in the Church.
“Eremitic life was of old considered the highest glory of Christian life and of the religious state; but in our day it has declined even more than other forms of religious life and has almost disappeared. In fact only the twenty or more Camaldolese hermits who follow the Rule of St. Benedict and their own legal constitutions are truly leading a religious life as hermits. All others who live in solitude or who in any way enjoy the title of ‘hermits’ are in face neither hermits nor religious, because they lack the first requisites of religious life: they pronounce no vows of religion, profess no approved rule, do not obey a superior. Their deplorable conduct must be censured, for they do not serve God, but just their own desires, contravening the sacred canons.”
The vows of religion are important in more than one respect: they admit a Christian to a state of life approved by the Church; they stamp his whole existence with the seal of obedience, the only escape from illusion; they constitute a noble act of the virtue of religion, a consecration that enhances the value and increase the merit of whatever acts of virtue a Christian voluntarily performs.
“Even if one who has not taken the vows observes poverty, chastity, and obedience perfectly, even if he seems to proceed along an arduous path, nevertheless he cannot acquire the richer merit of religious life. The Church teaches through her saints that all good works become better and more meritorious when offered to God by a vow, particularly a solemn public vow. To make a vow is an act of adoration, of the worship due to God alone, the worship most pleasing to Him, because it raises all subsequent actions to a sublime level of perfection.” Whoever makes a vow offers God not only his actions but himself. He consecrates to the Lord once and for all not only the proper use of liberty, but that whole liberty itself. He enters an entirely new relationship with the Lord, so that the vows truly resemble a second baptism.
But religious life has two principal forms: active and contemplative. We must first define them clearly in order that we may grasp the distinction and the connection between them.
“By ‘contemplative life’ I do not mean the future life, the one true life of perfect contemplation in which we shall see God and enjoy perpetual bliss. Nor do I mean the spiritual ecstasy that is occasionally granted during this earthly life to certain souls of great perfection, a sort of vision of divine truths, bestowed as a special grace in a way that transcends the usual limitations of human nature. I refer instead to the manner of life of those who have renounced all temporal and spiritual activity in order to heed only God and themselves—sibi soli et Deo vacat. They strive, as constantly as human frailty permits, to reach God by reading holy books, by meditating on the eternal truths, and by persisting in prayer. By ‘active life’ I do not refer to the state of those who spend their time on the vanities of the world or on secular business, but I mean a way of life which makes room for the duties of taking care of other souls as well as various other activities that pious men may undertake for the honor and the service of religion.”
In comparing these two forms of religious life, the active and the contemplative, we must judge each by the value of its distinctive traits. “We can easily collect texts by various doctors of the Church proving that total contemplative life (total, that is, in so far as human frailty permits) is more perfect, since its one aim is to love and to know God which is the most perfect life and at the same time most useful to other men, even though its usefulness is not apparent….According to the doctrine of St. Thomas who, in a way, prefers active to contemplative religious life [although Pere Garrigou-Lagrange states a clear case that St. Thomas is very much the contemplative mystic], there are two kinds of actions in religious life, the first antecedent to contemplation, the second springing from the experience of contemplation. Now even those who somewhat prefer action to contemplation agree that the action which precedes contemplation is less perfect than contemplation itself. The action proceeding from contemplation is likewise less perfect than contemplation itself. I personally have always held the opinion that both forms of action are less perfect than contemplation. Regarding action which leads to contemplation there is no doubt. A man whose action proceeds from contemplation generally does not undertake action as if he were climbing to a higher level, but rather he goes to a lower level in order to offer services necessary to his neighbor and unobtainable from others. To turn from God’s love and the loving of God (which is contemplation) to the process of loving one’s neighbor is not an upward but a downward movement. We do not love God for the sake of our neighbor, but our neighbor for the sake of God….If our neighbor needs help in order to save his soul, and if there be none other to care for him, we may, without risking our own salvation, consent to lose something of our perfection, or some portion of superfluous consolation in order that we may attend to his urgent needs. Similarly the Fathers of the Church teach that Christians, and priest in particular, have no right to take flight and hide in times of persecution if this deprives the Christian people of necessary means of salvation. They should rather stay and face the risks. So I believe that when others are available, contemplatives may be excused from good works for the benefit of their neighbors. But if there is a lack of persons to offer the services necessary to their neighbor’s salvation, then the contemplatives should interrupt and relinquish their lives of contemplation to accept a life that is less perfect but more necessary. They do not then advance upward, but stoop downward. They should not do this through mere love of neighbor, for they should never remove their attention from love of God in order to attend lovingly to their neighbors. I say that their motive should not be natural love of neighbor, but primarily love of God and service of God through service of neighbor….At the present time those who practice works of spiritual mercy on behalf of their neighbors, far from being wanting are most plentiful.”
An entirely contemplative life is, then, legitimate. Objectively it represents the highest level of perfection. In Giustiniani’s time this coincided with eremitic life, being found only in hermitages. He maintained that these were intended by Providence to encourage and preserve that perfect life in the Church.
Old Testament foundation for the eremitic/monastic life:
“But if we seek the origin of these two modes of life in more remote antiquity, we find that in the Old Testament, Elias practiced the solitary way of life, while his disciple, Eliseus, in company with many followers, organized community life. Whoever ponders on these incidents will understand that these two modes of monastic sanctity were not invented by men but were given to the human race by God, who governs all things wisely, who loves human beings supremely, and who even in Old Testament days providentially sent Elias and Eliseus to show these two modes of religious life to the men whom He wished to save. These are the two paths by which men may easily arrive at eternal bliss. Later when the Gospel has been proclaimed, the same two paths were more clearly and openly marked out in the East by St. Paul and St. Antony, in the West by St. Benedict and St. Romuald. With their help men could journey on theses two royal roads and thus safely reach the unutterable delights of the heavenly Jerusalem, the place prepared for those who fear and love God. And if we examine the origin and progress of these two modes of life, we can easily perceive that they are like two sisters showing a close resemblance, though wearing different clothing. Moreover, if we consider carefully not only their origin, but also their respective characteristics, it becomes evident that they are linked by such a close relationship and intimate bond that the fullness of cenobitic life is impossible without some participation in the hermit life, and the latter cannot be perfect without some form of support from the cenobites….Both the hermit and the cenobite are known as solitaries because, in so far as human weakness permits, they withdraw from the exterior and the interior multitude, that is, they remove themselves externally from the throngs of other men whose lives differ from theirs. At the same time, by interior discipline and unceasing practice of virtue, they strive to expel from their soul the many passions and impulses disturbing it, in order that divine love alone might dwell in their hearts. Therefore, one who wishes to live without companions cannot be more truly called a monk on that account than one who, even though he shares the company of others as a way of more perfectly devoting himself to God alone, yet truly escapes both physically and spiritually from the common throngs. It matters not if he practices his way of life with many brothers in a monastery or if he dwells alone in a hermitage….
“On the other hand when hermits read the Rule governing cenobites, they should blush for shame and amend their ways if they perceive that they, who are bound to the higher and nobler duties of the eremitic life, do not attain even the full perfection proper to the lower and easier precepts of cenobitic life. Thus they can see more clearly what utter purity of life and integral perfection of all virtue is expected of them, if already the discipline of cenobitic life is a perfection. To fall short of that ideal would be shameful on the part of those whose profession (if they are true hermits) binds them to a still stricter and more excellent discipline….
“But especially in our day is it important that the Rule and the practices of eremitic life be made known, in particular to those who seek to serve God….For in other times all who decided to lead monastic life sought out solitary places. The Councils and the holy canons forbade monks to live in cities or even to enter them….”
