...to be solitary is to be united:
alone in the eye of the storm, alone on the surface level
in order to be together in the swirling vortex of being.
The sun rises and sets, the moon shines, rain falls on the just and the not so just (Mt. 5:45), good and evil happens. Such is the mystery of Life.
Within this dance of Creation, stands the contemplative...the solitary...the hermit. He or she serves as a beacon of witness to the Gospel. With deep roots, he or she sways with the tempest, but doesn't break. This monastic sees the whole, holy, picture, standing wherever he or she finds himself in the moment. Or tries to do so.
Some days it is easier to do than others; hermits are simply humans seeking transformation. Looking at the world today, it is not difficult to give up and walk away. The solitary's call, however, compels him or her to become compassion and prayer for the world. It draws him or her deeper into the complexity.
Our Beloved God didn't cause the slaughter in Norway, or any of the myriad of evils besetting us presently. It is easy to over-rationalize and, with great hubris, assume God isn't doing anything. The point is: God is always doing something because incarnation, crucifixion, transfiguration and resurrection are really more verbs than nouns. In Christ, all has indeed been made new (2 Cor 5:17). It's a matter of perspective.
But don't mistake the hermit's silence for complicity or resignation. Quite the contrary. This is the silence of surrender to the Ancient of Days, offering the total self in reparation--the making of amends, to our loving God. This is not about appeasing a capricious angry deity, but rather offering love back to the Beloved. For in so doing, the Light transfigures all, allowing justice and peace to kiss...