This last week, I took my first monastic
retreat of the summer. In planning out
what my sabbatical would look like, it made sense (to me) to take the first
week at home for rest and then spend the second week in the solitude of
retreat, focusing on reading and prayer, which would hopefully shape the
spiritual plane of the weeks to come.
Now, I have never been to an
operating monastery, but I was extremely excited for the opportunity. As a church history aficionado, I have a
great respect for the monastic movement and their alternative brand of
spirituality that, in many senses, served as the backbone of the church when it
was in the midst of its doctrinal and dogmatic infighting.
Beyond that I am, by nature, an introvert, who
also happens to love people. So while a
perfect day might include coffee with my wife at Coffee Matters or a campfire
with good friends, I ultimately get my energy for those activities by spending
time alone. The opportunity to spend a
week in relative solitude, keeping company with nature and my books, sounded
fantastic.
I had decided a long time ago that
my first monastic retreat had to be at the Abbey of Gethsemani, located about
an hour west of Lexington, Ky. One of my
favorite authors in Christian Spirituality is Thomas Merton, and Gethsemani was
the monastery that he committed himself to as a Benedictine monk as well as the
place where he composed some of the most important writings in the 20th
century. For a good start, check out his book "New Seeds of Contemplation," and be prepared for your mind to be blown.
For the uninitiated, there are many
different types of monastic orders, and within those orders there are various
degrees of severity in their spiritual practices. Gethsemani is a Benedictine monastery, in
particular part of the Cistercian order, and would be considered one of the
more austere groups. This meant that
those who would join the order were committing themselves to prayer, manual
labor, and silence. Yes that’s right,
silence. Complete silence.
My week at Gethsemani would be
completely silent, except for the community prayers that happened 7 times a day
(the first being at 3:15 AM…I didn’t go to those…) And though it might seems strange, this was
an aspect of the retreat that I was looking forward to. Even though I talk for a living, I also enjoy
my times of silence.
For me, this wasn't an awkward
practice at all because it was expected of everyone there. And because we weren't allowed to talk, this
kept us focused on the purposes at hand, namely prayer and spiritual reading,
rather than getting caught up in small talk. Of course, we couldn't have
possibly forgotten this rule, since there were signs every several feet that
read something like “Silence is Spoken Here.”
Lest it seem, though, that I am the
perfect Benedictine candidate and had zero struggles with the abrupt transition
into this silent bubble, I want to share the first thing that I wrote only
several hours into my week (I am human too.)
“No television. No air conditioning, no internet
access. Complete silence. What have I gotten myself into? Already I've had the thought of, “Well, this
is quaint and has been fun, now where’s the hotel with the pool and the cable
and the pizza place on speed dial?” God
has brought me here for a reason; maybe the instigating factor was the romantic
notion of monastic life like Thomas Merton.
In any case, I have three complete days of solitude and silence and
seeking.”
God definitely brought me there for a reason; He revealed
some important aspects of my personality that need addressed, questions about
my vocation that need to be explored, and several practices that I would like
to implement into my Sabbatical time.
And so, if you’re interested in hearing more about this,
check back as I will be sharing more of my experiences, thoughts and musings. This could take a while, and I want to make
this blog digestible for those reading.