Six months ago, Bishop Mark O’Connell, with the full support of Cardinal Sean O’Malley, consecrated me as a diocesan hermit. At the moment of consecration, I understood what it meant to be a hermit because under the guidance of my spiritual director, I had been discerning, studying, and “living into the life” for more than ten years. Although this understanding remains imperfect and incomplete, it continues to grow and mature through the disciplines of prayer, silence, and solitude; and the evangelical counsels of poverty, chastity, and obedience. These practices and perpetual vows help me to give a more authentic and prophetic witness to the Gospel of Christ in the Catholic Community of Gloucester & Rockport…and beyond.

Since last fall, I have worked hard to be worthy of the vocation entrusted to me. It is not easy to work full time in the Lord’s vineyard and answer the Lord’s call to the eremitic life. But day after day, I find strength and inspiration in the lives of those who have lived before me. Whether called hermits, stylites, anchorites, or solitaries, men and women like me have existed in the Church from its beginnings. In the Old Testament, we read about the Prophet Elijah who was called by God to live alone under the shelter of a rock where he is fed by ravens. In the New Testament, we encounter John the Baptist who lived alone in the wilderness and ate only what nature provided him. Indeed, John is sometimes called the first Christian hermit.

In the early centuries of church history, we meet the so-called Desert Mothers and Fathers. These amazing men and women fled the sin and corruption of the world in order to find God by living in the caves and crevices of deserts in Egypt, Syria, and the Holy Land. In the Middle Ages, Saint Francis of Assisi (one of my chosen patrons) lived more than one half of his post-conversion life in prayer and solitude in secluded caves, huts, and hermitages in the mountains of Central Italy. In fact, many of the saint’s most faithful followers (such as Blessed John of La Verna, another one of my chosen patrons) chose the eremitic life. And in our own day, three other professed hermits live among us in the Archdiocese of Boston.

Just last week, the Catholic Church celebrated the Feast of Saint Guthlac of Crowland, an eighth century English hermit. His biographer, a fellow monk called Felix, writes: “From Guthlac, no sick brother or sister went away without relief; no one distressed, without assistance; no one sad, without joy; no one weak, without encouragement; no one sorrowful, without comfort; no one worried, without counsel. So strong was Guthlac in real love that he bore the burdens of one and all alike.” From the life of Saint Guthlac, we learn a timeless and important lesson. The hermit is not a recluse. Throughout history, Christian hermits have lived apart from the community, but somehow always part of it — always accessible, always ready to welcome visitors, always ready to offer prayers and spiritual counsel to those in need.

Needless to say, I am not a saint. I now begin every talk or presentation with the words of Saint Patrick (yet another one of my chosen patrons): “I am Patrick, a sinner, a most simple countryman, the least faithful of all the faithful of God.” At the same time, I am more and more convinced that a large part of my vocation is to imitate Saint Guthlac and so many other hermit saints by bearing the burdens of my fellow parishioners — by helping to carry the crosses you are asked to carry; by offering a word of God’s blessing when we meet; and most of all, by praying for you day and night. May God bless you! May the Lord give you peace!

Brother Patrick Garvey
Associate Minister & Diocesan Hermit
Catholic Community of Gloucester & Rockport
Contact: brpatrick@ccgronline.com

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CCGR Weekly Newsletter (4-21-24)
Bringing Home the Word (4-21-24)
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Living the Gospel
Saints for All Seasons
Begins Saturday, April 27th

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