Saint Ulphia (Wulfia or Wulfe) - January 31

 

Saint Ulphia

(died January 30, 776)

Icon available on

UNCUT MOUNTAIN SUPPLY

Click HERE to purchase

I started writing this post in January but was dealing with the aftermath of a terrible fall that hurt both knees badly and caused me to slow my movements even more than what is typical, so it became lost for some time and I am just now getting back to it on February 6th. I will try to post it in the proper order online, but if I am unable to do that, I know you will understand.

There are a surprising number of female hermits who have been sainted. Typically, when the subject of "hermits" comes up, most folks tend to picture a grizzled old man, usually with long, unkempt hair and a beard to match. For some reason, the men get a lot of celebration while the women see very little mention. Perhaps women are more successful in remaining hidden.

I enjoy reading about these female hermits, searching for clues as to how they survived this mode of life and hoping to get some picture of their inspirations and motivations. I wish there was more information on-line. This is yet another one of my many projects for which there is not enough time. The balance between the religious, intellectual, and writing projects is delicate. There is only so much time in each day, and I am becoming less and less able to do much of anything physical, while at the same time I have, essentially, no help with any of the physical jobs that need doing in order to function properly.

Saint Ulphia

with her mentor, Saint Domitius

Amiens, France

Today's little-known female hermitess lived near Amiens, France, in the 8th Century. She was a disciple of Saint Domitius, located at the Abbey of Saint-Acheul, in Amiens. Perhaps her relationship with that (male) saint is how she became known by others and how a community of disciples began building hermitages around her. She organized them into a community and then went back into seclusion.

It is that particular sequence of events, when she got involved with organizing others, that initially interested me, particularly because I am currently peeking outside my own hermitage in a temporary effort to offer some inspiration for a type of ministry that I feel the Church is lacking, as a whole. (This is the "Parish Membership Ministry" that I've designed with various modules, including the "Elder Orphans" ministry. It is taking forever to even see if it will be enacted because it is proceeding in that glacially slow way that appears to be so typical of the churches that are struggling to keep their membership. They are so stuck in their procedures that I believe they have trouble letting go of those things that are bogging them down to begin with. The infections of modernism and secularism are at the heart of most of it. More about that in another post.)

I have encountered many unexpected surprises in my brief foray into a recently increased contact with other humans.  Other people, not realizing that I am living a different kind of life than they might imagine, are not equipped to understand our differences.

In the Middle Ages, I have the impression that most people were aware of the vocation of hermit and anchoress.

I have considered wearing a modified uniform, a "habit" that communicates some kind of religious lifestyle but which is different enough from the standard habit that I won't look as if I am impersonating a nun or sister of any particular order. The key point is modesty, of course, and a simple style. My style has leaned toward maxi dresses since I was 15 and I used to sew them up by hand from the lightweight cotton Indian 'bedspreads" that were popular during the hippy era. I have a bolt of nice, plain linen I bought online and will likely end up sewing some new ones with long sleeves, and leave it at that. Somehow I have to get the back room organized in order to produce anything with that sewing machine. When the time is right, The Lord will provide the needed help.

Up until now, I have liked keeping a low profile and not catching the attention of those around me. However, I am beginning to think that it may be time to have more of an outward presentation and to start wearing a habit of some sort. It would certainly reduce the number of pieces of clothing that I keep in the hermitage and would, among other advantages, reduce the amount of laundry duties. It would also explain to some people, without my having to say anything that could be interpreted as rejection of others, that I am not typically involved in the normal entertainments of secular life.

Saint Ulphia sounds like a real character. Supposedly, she was living on the banks of the Noye River, determined never to marry, and when potential suitors came to bother her, she would behave as if she was crazy, just to scare them off. The Bishop gave her "the veil" when she was 25, I suppose granting her similar vows to that which the Diocesan hermits take in these modern days.

She was the attendant of the famous hermit Domitius, who was a Deacon who gave up active work for the life of a hermit. He was much older than she was. She attended to him, and he endowed her with his wisdom. It is not unusual for hermits to attract devotees who learn from them the wisdom of the vocation. It reminds me of my experiences as a Hindu nun, under the tutelage of Swami Swahananda at the Vedanta Society in Southern California.

I do not have a teacher for the last 20 years, but having experienced the support of a highly spiritual elder in my former religion, I feel that I have at least the confidence to try to be a decent Catholic hermit.

There has yet to be a reputable Catholic guide and exemplar for me, ready at hand, and I am sure The Lord would provide one if He felt this was necessary. He knows how reliant I am upon the writings of the experts and I will not get waylaid by quacks or charlatans who try to bamboozle the unsuspecting devotee through thaumaturgic "cosmic poo poo." He knows that I stay grounded.

Speaking of which, I have received no return phone call from the Archbishop since I reached out in December. I was told in December that he would get back to me around January 13, as he was busy until then. I have followed up with phone messages and another email, and I hear crickets.

I cannot pretend to know the reason(s) why "ghosting" people has become a thing that everyone seems to do when they have no use for you.

But I am aware that I am unimportant and also have no money - so why should anyone respond? I am of no use to them and therefore everything that comes across an Archbishop's desk is automatically more pressing than my needs. Besides which, a Dioscecan hermit's vows are given directly into the hands of a bishop, and it may sound like extra work to a man already weighed down with many weighty matters.

On the other hand, I have already lived this life for 20 years, and the only thing I lack is spiritual support and the ability to retain the Blessed Sacrament on my own personal shrine. I will continue to live this life, God willing, for as long as I remain on earth, and I trust completely that The Lord will give me everything I really need.

I am currently not regularly receiving the eucharist, however, and I do need to rectify that situation. The lady that was bringing it to me was subjecting me to a terrible angry temperament, and yelling at me quite a bit - both here and in her car during errands - also yelling at the other drivers in an unending litany of surreal conversation with people who I doubt could hear her with her windows rolled up. Once she even got out of the car, in the middle of traffic, and walked to the car BEHIND us so that she could yell at the driver. It was a frightening series of events.

I finally could not endure it any longer and I believe it is safer not to have her come here because I am beginning to think that she may be suffering the onset of some kind of dementia, alzheimer's disease or something like it, and there are certain instances when those experiencing this illness have completely lost their tempers and gotten violent. I am not able to run away from her, if she should really come unglued, so I told her not to come here any more.

The deacon did not believe me, I don't think. Or he did not want to. I am not sure what is going on there, but he indicated he would not be making any effort to get me someone else. He muttered something about not having volunteers and how rare they are since Covid. Even after Covid has mostly gone away, people have not returned to volunteering, which I find sad.

I also wonder why no one at the parish makes any effort to reach out for volunteers and perhaps announce them after mass. So many Christians are in need of companionship with other friends of Jesus! My "Parish Membership Ministry" is designed to help with this issue, but I despair of it ever getting off the ground. Ever since the internet became enmeshed in our lives, it feels as if humans are no longer interested in interacting with other humans at all.

If I can find someone to drive me, or somehow get a car, it may be better to go to church instead of having someone come here, even if the pain of this exercise is extraordinary. The arthritis I inherited from my mother's side of the family is fairly awful, but I look upon it as an ascetic practice, so even if there is a lot of extra pain, I think I will accept if someone offers to take me, and I will work hard to try to get SOME kind of vehicle, since getting transportation is an awful ordeal at present.

Something tells me that it is beneficial to the spiritual constitution to be treated with disdain. Jesus was treated with actual contempt, scorn and ridicule, yet he managed to maintain his modesty and gentle demeanor throughout his entire ordeal here on earth. I must do the same, to the extent I am able. I am really working on my patience, at present. Being in constant pain for 20 years has added to the difficulty.

Despite it all, I continue to live my hermit life, praying unceasingly, with my mind on Him throughout the day, relying upon the many examples of hermits through the ages in order to form my holy vocation.

I pray for you, as I hope you pray for me.

May God bless us all.

Silver Rose

SAINT AELFNOTH (ALNOTH), THE HERMIT - NOVEMBER 25

Saint Aelfnoth (Alnoth)

Feast day: November 25

(d. 700)

There are many hermit saints in the history of the Catholic Church - women and men who are so in love with God that they withdraw from society in order to spend time only with Him. The hermit hopes to hear the music of his Beloved's voice, quiet and close, in their inmost being.

But even when the Lord does not deign to make Himself known, and He does not speak or move within, the Hermit loves to think of Him and wait in attendance upon the time when he MAY speak and move and make Himself known. The distraction of others and their voices, the noise of commerce and entertainments, are not of interest to the solitary, except in a pale and subordinate facsimile of common habit.

Monastics live lives of asceticism and offer up their pains and sufferings in reparation for their sins and the sins of the world, but to remove oneself from society to think of The Lord and draw close to him is not a suffering for them and can't be counted as such. Forgoing the supposed joys of common amusements is a pleasure for the hermit. In this way, they are contrary creatures, but it is my impression that the Lord made them this way from the beginning, constructing them so that even from childhood they enjoyed solitary time, at the very least. 

"And when thou prayest, thou shalt not be as the

hypocrites are; for they love to pray standing in

the synagogues and in the corners of the streets,

that they may be seen of men. Verily I say unto

you, they have their reward.

But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet,

and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy

Father which is in secret; and thy Father which

seeth in secret shall reward thee openly."

Matthew 6:5-6

Many hermits in history have lived as married persons, with children and worldly duties, but immediately upon the death of their spouse, they flee to the convent or monastery, sometimes taking their children with them. It appears that our Church does not have much room for this sort of monasticism any longer. It has become obsessed with the young. Like the rest of society, the modern church has little interest in older persons, when it comes to  monastic vocations. There are some practical aspects to this. Supporting people is very expensive. What can be done about that? The world has changed a lot since the Middle Ages. Besides which, many hermits bore their own expenses in those days, having family income to spend for their maintenance, which cost very little at that time. There were no medical bills (or medical care, to speak of!) No electric bills or mortgages. No automobiles or car insurance. It was a much simpler time.

It is no wonder that we know so little of the lives of the hermits because, after they retire to the hermitage, it is all an "inside job" without much for an outsider to observe, except an occasional miracle! (I think patience is, itself, a miracle.) In the case of today's saint, we know just the bare outline of his life. In his early life, he was a cowherd on St. Werberga's monastery property in Weedon, Northhampton, and he is briefly mentioned in Jocelyn's story of Werburga's life. 

Apparently, there was a local official who was something of a bully and he used to torment Alnoth, who responded with patience - a rare trait. Eventually, today's saint retired to live as a hermit and was murdered by two robbers, at night, in his hermitage. His tomb is at Stowe, near Bugbrooke, and it has been an attraction for pilgrims.  The local folk considered him a martyr, perhaps because he was bullied and then murdered because of his gentle Christian temperament.

I know what it is like to be tormented by bullies. I've been the target of bullies since I was a very little girl. Once they discover your temperament, they tend to shake you for either fun or finances. They would like to turn your world on end and hold you upside down to see if they can shake loose any coins or personal possessions that might fall out of your pockets. 

I am generous by nature, so I have had people cynically make friends with me for the sole purpose of divesting me of household furnishings and supplies. Some are just content to block my garage so that I am unable to use my handicap mobility scooter that is stored there.  

Of course, most of you are aware that after my father got Alzheimer's and tried to start his car with his credit card instead of his car key, other folks wrote me out of his will, knowing that I am disabled and poor and have need of the inheritance I was promised by my father, but that my nature is not such that I would be of any danger to them. Then, when he died under odd circumstances and his body was cremated without examination, I was advised of his death. These are distressing events, but I do not have to do anything with them because The Lord of Divine Love and Justice has seen them all, and He has His own methods of regulating justice, in this world and the next.

The bailiff who tormented Aelfnoth must have descendants here in the USA! Not everyone is like that, of course. I have many well-wishers, and I am betting I am probably more feisty than Aelfnoth, being a modern, independent woman. It is just that the bullies and thieves tend to make a an impression down through history. Think of all the years that have passed since that bailiff was harrowing Aelfnoth, and we know almost as much about him as we do the saint himself! 

Today, let us pray for the bullies, the robbers, the murderers and the thieves who risk their souls by acting on their evil impulses. Please offer at least one "Hail Mary" for them. They need it!

I hope and I pray you had a lovely Thanksgiving, and God bless you all!

Silver Rose

FEAST OF SAINT DYMPHNA, MAY 15, 2022

 

Saint Dymphna

Patroness of those suffering mental illness.

PATRON SAINT OF THE MENTALY ILL

If you have trouble with anxiety, depression, PTSD or any other mental illness, then Saint Dumphna is your gal. Her father was so crazy he agreed to marry his own daughter when his wife died and then became so obsessed with the idea that he chased her to where she had fled and killed her because she refused the preposterous (and revolting) idea.

When friends ask me how is it that I seem to have so much "bad luck," I remind them of all the saints like Dymphna who had TERRIBLE lives. Nearly every saint had an awful set of life circumstances. That is what is so inspiring about them. Despite the gross difficulties, they clung to The Lord with everything they had - their heart, soul and mind. In the process, there is much healing.

I myself have PTSD, so Saint Dymphna is a favorite of mine. The examples of saints like her are what keeps me buoyed up! I highly recommend a little meditation on the lives of the saints. Google Saint Dymphna to learn more about her.

SOME GOOD NEWS

I have noticed that my eyesight continues to improve and I am crediting it, partially, to being more disciplined with taking my vitamins and supplements, as well as eating better. Medical studies prove that these things improve a patient's chances of keeping some of their vision.  It is very expensive, though, and my Social Security is rather modest, so please consider helping me with a bit of food from my AMAZON WISH LIST

LOVING MY NEIGHBOR

One of my neighbors has Parkinson's Disease and has had it for 29 years. She is doing REMARKABLY well with it, considering how long she has had it, and she has gone even so far as to get electrodes placed in her brain to prevent the tremors from shaking her to bits.

I was coming back from the Walgreens with some Coca Cola for her, when I saw a young man drive his motorcycle up onto the grass where we are supposed to walk our dogs. I have seen his motorcycle parked there many times before, and I believe he is responsible for the deep grooves into which I have fallen and nearly broke my ankle several times. Also  he is responsible for the lamp getting pulled down, as I have seen his motorcycle chained to it many times.

LIGHT POLE ON DOG GRASS

PULLED DOWN

I was walking to my mailbox, using my wheeled walker with the nice big seat and stopped and asked him if he was one of my neighbors. He was about 6 feet tall with dark curly hair, wearing bright red plastic sunglasses.

He was very rude.

I explained that if he left his motorcycle in this spot he could have it towed away. He screamed and yelled at me, called me "dirty English," started complaining about Americans. His language was just filthy. His accent sounded Dutch or Germanic to me.

Although I was calm and restrained, fairly soft spoken, the man was just flipping out. Mostly he swore, in very vulgar language, calling me many names and making reference to my being "dirty English" or "f...ing American" and making a lot of statements about how awful Americans are.  I remember thinking that if he does not like Americans, he could go home - wherever home is, but of course I did not say that. Who knows what he would do?

I just told him, "look, I am just trying to help you." (This was not entirely true, since I was really more concerned about the ditches his motorcycle had been making in the grass for the last year or two.)

"Where the F...k am I supposed to park?" he screamed at me. I pointed out the visitor parking and then he really became incensed. More profane language ensued. He did not want to park in the visitor parking because he was convinced someone would steal his motorcycle because there was nothing to tie it to.

It is usually not a good idea to escalate this sort of thing, so I did not reciprocate, but as he continued to scream and swear at me, I did ask him, "do you talk to your grandmother like that?" He stopped for a moment. He must have had a nice grandma.

I went to my mailbox and then started back toward my apartment, walking slowly with my little wheeled walker. He apologized to me but then went right back to screaming and swearing at me. I don't know what made him become so unhinged.

So far, I had seen him park there only on Sunday in the late afternoon and at no other time. It was some kind of appointment, and perhaps he wasn't even visiting someone in this complex. It occurred to me that perhaps he works somewhere cloe by and he became unhinged because he was expected somewhere at a particular time and was pressed for time. Perhaps that was it.

Anyway, he put the chain into a little case on the side of the motorcycle and drove off the property. It occurred to me that, considering he had such an inappropriate response to my mild-mannered approach, perhaps he also has some mental illness.

Dear Saint Dymphna, please protect, soothe and heal everyone with mental illnesses that is either temporary or a permanent feature of their psyche!

Silver Rose

Copyright(c) 2022
All rights reserved.

P.S. Please do not forget my Amazon wish list that incorporates the many things that are prescribed for the various illnesses that assail me! CLICK HERE

If you prefer not to have to choose which items are purchased, then go to my PAYPAL link, that says "DONATE" above right of this blog post.

What are you doing for Lent?

I have cut back on writing this blog, so that I have more time for the book, but I will write a little something every now and then when I feel particularly inspired or I want to touch base with you.

What are you doing for Lent? Many people I know are doing some thoughtful and creative Lenten disciplines. I find it inspiring to hear about the different methods that some are adopting in order to get closer to the Lord.

Those of us over the age of 59, and others who are ill, are not required to adhere to the acetic discipline of fasting from types of food. Personally, I do tighten my diet during this time and, at the least, stay very mindful about how much and how often I am eating. The participation of the mind AND the body are an important aspect of the spiritual self-governance that we practice as religious people because, contrary to the beliefs of many in the Western world, we are not spirits stuck inside a skin sack. That is heresy. Human beings are both body and soul, therefore the physical acts we commit are every bit as important at the spiritual drills. One of the hosts of a Catholic radio program I heard today emphasized the necessity of including at least some physical mortification in our Lenten routine.

I find it interesting that most religious traditions in the world have some concept of the need for physical self-denial, to one extent or another. Evidently, this practice is basic to the life of the soul. The Hindu-based Vedanta monastics, with whom I spent a few years, are much more keenly aware of the need for this sort of discipline than the Catholics I know. In India, there are a lot of independent sadhus on the road to enlightenment, and we would be hard pressed to live as they do, many of whom beg every meal from the side of the road, wear little more than a loin cloth, and never see a doctor or a shopping mall.

This year, I am going mostly vegetarian, with the occasional anchovy or canned kipper for the sake of the omega III's. I try to treat food as medicine as a general rule anyway, for the spiritual benefit as well as the physical. My little nods in the direction of asceticism are really just tokens, since my body is already forcing a great deal of discomfort upon me every hour of every day.

Other practices include a more purposeful application of disciplines I try to do throughout the year anyway. "Fasting" from impatience is one of those practices that is a challenge for me. Deliberately practicing kindness to as many people every day as possible is a bit easier.

Keeping quiet about the particular things I may do out of the practice of kindness is absolutely required. My efforts to restrain myself from snapping at the stupid and the lazy are not exactly a credit to me, as I would hope that, by this age, I would have gotten a handle on that by now. So let's none of us get too chatty with our little "inspiring" stories about how practicing kindness has made us so great. We're just trying to catch up to where we SHOULD be already established, dontcha think?

Sometimes it is all I can do to smile at the rude and disinterested customer service person whose job it is to help me but who clearly has no interest in doing so. "Breathe and smile," I remind myself. Breathe and smile.

After I breathe and smile, which is fairly passive, I gift the person with a kind or friendly few words, even if my smile has disgusted them, which it appears to do, half the time. The rude and stupid are often fairly immune to kindness for some reason. It's not my job to understand it. I just breathe and smile.

Often I am not successful in maintaining this kind disposition of soul, and I walk away grumbling (or worse.) Lent is my opportunity to get a better grip on this sort of interaction with my fellow human beings and to end up with fewer episodes of snappishness than I would typically have at the end of each day. It is amazing how hard won are these few and paltry accomplishments.

In any case, I am interested in the sort of fasting that each of you has decided to practice during this time and I hope you will gift us all with a discussion of your methods and their intended outcomes in the comments below.

God bless us all!

Silver Rose