“gather up the fragments” (John 6)

“The Desire for Hermitage,” anonymous Irish monk (8-13th c.)
Ah! To be all alone in a little cell
with nobody near me;
beloved that pilgrimage before the last pilgrimage to death.
Singing the passing hours to cloudy Heaven;
Feeding upon dry bread and water from the cold spring.
That will be an end to evil when I am alone
in a lovely little corner among tombs
far from the houses of the great.
Ah! To be all alone in a little cell, to be alone, all alone:
Alone I came into the world
alone I shall go from it.

Home: We all want a home. We are each in our way hermits and pilgrims, longing never again to live “alone together.” Those who love art and those love God feel these impulses keenly. Those who seek God through beauty sometimes feel far from artists but also unknown by fellow people of faith.

The Reason: I’m not exactly an artist, but as life goes on I have found that I need to gather up the accumulating fragments of my life — music (my first love), writing, visual art (which teaches me how to see), homilies — to make sense of things in one place. If it helps you, the joy will be all the greater.

The Name: The American composer Samuel Barber wrote a song cycle entitled “Hermit Songs,” settings of odds and ends that monks had written in books’ margins. “The Desire for Hermitage,” the poem above, is a little isolationist in tone but its description of a beloved pilgrimage spoke to something I have sensed, especially embarking on the adventure of life as a priest.