Sunday, November 10, 2013

44 Hours: Part 2

Ok, so now I am officially a rookie hermit.  I have things squared away in my little hermitage and the proverbial "Now what" comes into my mind.  Years of being a western man, soaked in a culture where your value is determined by your output, what you contribute, causes me to have my first moment of slight panic. Fortunately, the thought just lasts for a moment as another part of my mind quickly answers the questioning with "You just be James.  Be the human being that you are. Not a human doing...you have had years of that endless cul-de-sac, but now surrender yourself to the fact there is not one agenda item, not even one "have to do", there is really no next." Wow!  As I let that soak in I was washed over by the euphoria of all of the hours I had before me with no particular expectations, no lists to check off, nothing to attend to but to present myself to my Lord and to the present as an end in itself.  It was euphoric, almost giddy, in effect.

Ok, the adventure-loving part of me said let's go explore so off I went. Pacem is situated on 240 acres of land.  Most of it is nicely wooded with a mix of oak and maple. There were acorns and a panoply of colored leaves carpeting the ground with a sweet,earthy, smell of graceful decay. The various hermitages, all named after saints, are located in wide-spread groups of 3 along twisting, narrow dirt roads.  There is no electricity and the "biffy" is located by itself, one for each group of 3 hermitages. There is also an 8 acre stretch of open space they call the prairie with walking paths mowed into the grassy field for ambling along. And ambling is precisely what I found myself doing. My gosh, I have never walked so slow in all my life and it served as an outer indication of an internal slowing and a contemplative attitude that was increasingly beginning to take over. There were benches strategically placed along the way that beckoned the hermit to just sit and be. A large, wooden cross was on one side of the field.

One of the path routes took you down by a small lake. There were two curved boardwalks that led out over the reed, grass and cattails ending on a small, square dock area complete with one wrought iron chair and an accompanying little table.  It was so inviting, so set up as if to say "Here you go, we were expecting you." Yet another example of the intentionality that was so evident in how each aspect of Pacem was set up to operate. Another instance of the founder's forethought was that as you entered the boardwalk there was a post on each side with a rope on a hook. Upon entering, the rope was placed across the opening to indicate to others that for now you were occupying this particular place.  Message to me: "Come on in, relax and be, you won't be interrupted and stay as long as you like".  Although there were two of these areas the sight lines were such that you would never see another person even though they were only about 15 yards away....more intentionality.

So I strolled along, soaking up the warmth of the fall sun, listening, listening so intently for the still, small voice of my actual Host on this venture of solitude. More and more I was aware of what I was silently saying, "Thank you Father, thank you for this opportunity, thank you for this piece of your creation, thank you for inviting me here, thank you for calling me your friend."  Reflecting on what was going on back in the "real" world did not sit well, as though such thoughts were not what this time was about. This time was about the now of now and a celebration of being invited up and into the fellowship of the kingdom. The world seemed so less fallen in this place and provided a glimpse of what is to come when the earth can stop it's groaning,
for that time coming when it will be freed from it's bondage to decay.

I ambled back to my Teresa of Avila sanctuary, took a two hour nap that took me into the deepest of sleeps. I awoke to the glory of the woods in such an idyllic setting right outside my ringside-maple-rocker of a seat. Another stroll as I considered what Tamara had said about Papa's excitement for me to be there with him. All of the beauty, and the slow-paced consideration of what I had been called into ministered to me in so many ways, "I am the beloved son of the most high God", "I am a beloved son, just as I am, not as I ought to be". Couple that with more realization that I had endless hours ahead of me for more of the same without interruption. Oh my, this Santiago was more than once moved to tears of gratitude. The natural rhythm of the day pulsed on and the sun's light began to fail, time to go back to my refuge and begin thinking about receiving the night.

As I sat in my rocker the thought of making a cup of tea entered my head.  Now there was a foreign idea. Black coffee is how I normally roll.  But now, the genteelness of tea seemed so appealing so I brewed a cup. As I sat rocking, gazing and getting lost in the wooded scene, I thought "Now is the time of day that deer come out and start moving."  One thousand one, one thousand two and as if my Savior actually said, "You are correct my friend, watch this...", a small doe came into view ever so close. She was so herself, browsing along in her deer-like way, a picture of yet another part of the glorious creation. She exited stage left and as she left my sight line immediately on my right entered  a spike buck onto this customized stage of life that had been so lovingly arranged for me.  He was not so casual, he walked more as being on a mission and in no time he exited to the left.  One thousand one, one thousand two and here comes the young deer lady, running for her life as if to say "Leave me alone you big brute!"  And then all was once again calm and silent. Father had just produced a beautiful scene in a special drama for an audience of one and I continued to revel in being the beloved son.

As night came and my reading stopped, I enjoyed the simple food of my basket for that day. The bread I blessed and thankfully ate the fruit and some cheese. This day was ending, candles were lit and it would soon be time to experience the comfort of my single bed. This had been a day like no other. And oh my gosh, I had another 24 hours in the on-deck circle promising more time for being with no thoughts of doing but to be, to be, the beloved son of the name that is above every name in heaven, on earth and under the earth.

Sweet Jesus, from the bottom of my circumcised heart, thank you, thank you, thank you!

Saturday, November 9, 2013

44 Hours: Part 1

So, 66 years into this sojourn and the list of "first time I ever did this" is not being added to all that frequently. But last weekend was a glorious exception..... For some time I have wanted to go on a silent retreat but year followed year and it just wasn't happening. Until one morning, several weeks ago,  I was looking at a series of questions for reflection at the end of a chapter of a book I was studying.  I was literally wondering when I might find the time to actually do this when I just wrote this down : "Take this section to Pace whatever (I had forgotten the exact name of it) while Sandi is in Haiti."  I then read what I had just written as though it was a note given to me by someone else which was precisely what had just happened.  Father had just invited me to come along on an adventure and even gave me the timing of when it could occur. (I would like to say this is an everyday occurrence with me but it's just not.)

Within an hour I was on the phone making my appointment at Pacem in Terris. And last weekend I drove up for my 11:00 AM scheduled arrival time. It took a lot less time to get there than I had thought so I pulled over on a country road and attempted to start the process of slowing it all down.  Gosh, I was so excited, so filled with anticipation. I kept checking my watch, eager to drive into this place set aside from the din and hue. At last, 10: 58 AM, just enough time to come in one or two minutes late (I wouldn't want them thinking I was too excited or anything!).

As I drove into the parking lot there were about a dozen cars.  "Great, I suppose I am going to walk in to register and there will be a line...I hate lines."  I walked up a bit of a winding path strewn with fallen leaves. All was ever so quiet. The sun was bright, the sky very blue, the wind calm. I entered into a beautiful large house into what has to be the most quiet place I have ever entered. My breathing alone seemed to be intrusive. The door opening rang a chime that broke the silence.  Ha! No lines, no one at all, just tentative lil' ol' me pausing in the entry. Out comes a lovely young lady and she very warmly and quite softly says "You must be James."  Suddenly it became apparent that I was embarking on something that had my name on it, I was welcome, let's take our time, arrangements have been made...wow, let the mesmerizing begin!

I believe her name was Tamara and she asked if we could chat a bit.  There were several questions all aimed at getting an idea of how experienced I was at this, what was my background coming into this, what were my expectations. She gave me some idea of what to generally expect. She mentioned that I seemed very ready for this and was coming into it with what she believed was a healthy attitude (Heh, that's great to hear! My confidence just kicked up a notch!).  She also planted a seed that produced fruit through the entire weekend. She said that as excited as I probably was to experience this type of solitude, Papa (my word, not hers) was even more excited to have uninterrupted time with me. Wow!  What kind of story had I just stepped into here?

After a brief tour of the main house it was time to take me to my "hermitage". She met me at my car and we drove in the staff vehicle through the woods a short way to what was to be my home for the next 2 days. This was one of 16 identically built hermitages and mine was named after Saint Teresa of Avila. Tamara demonstrated the few things that needed to be mentioned...how to light the gas light mounted on the wall, how to light the gas burner to heat up water, the basic supplies in the closet. She wished me well, told me I would be prayed for and left. And there I was, surrounded by a deafening silence, looking out of a massive, squeaky-clean picture window into the fall-colored woods and so ready for whatever was to be. It was so quiet that even a mouse couldn't anonymously pass gas!

A large maple rocking chair with an afghan over the back, a crucifix, an open Jerusalem bible (to Psalm 23), an icon of Mary made it clear that this retreat center was of the Catholic persuasion. A tea kettle for heating water, a single bed, a closet complete with a flashlight, instant coffee and tea bags, some mugs, a fork, knife and spoon, a couple of plates, 2 spare votive candles, a set of fresh sheets, spare blanket and pillow, broom, dustpan, mop duster, walking stick, rain poncho, 3 hangers and a place to hang your clothes. I was also given a food basket that contained 2 apples, 2 oranges, 2 bananas, 2 small round loaves of bread, a hunk of cheddar cheese and a bran muffin. All this in a steep-roofed cabin about the size of a bedroom. Somehow the fact that there was just what was needed without one iota of excess  ministered peace to me. Someone had intentionally outfitted these hermitages with just what was necessary and nothing more....Brilliant!

I unpacked the few things I had brought, sat on the edge of my bed and was ever so grateful for what seemed already prepared for me in advance.....I was officially now a hermit.