Psalm 16:11
You have made known to me the path of life;
you will fill me with joy in your presence,
with eternal pleasures in your right hand.
Has it been writer's cramp, the press of circumstances or the jumble of the mind that has kept me from writing this letter for six months? Or maybe I had nothing to say... which may have been a relief to many. I try to write a Highway letter quarterly to reflect something to you, my friends, of my path with God and others that might be helpful as you consider your journey. I also desire to share some of the things that inform this journey of prayer, creativity and discipleship that we have named Verbena.
I wrote the last one as I turned 70 and had in that year experienced Israel and our first Verbena Gathering. I asked for the kindness of taking it aside in some place of quiet to honor the more personal nature of that communication. Thanks to those of you who were able to do that. I hope there was something meaningful to your own journey, as you took that care in some measure of contemplation.
This year, Laurie and I were privileged to resume our annual eight days of retreat in silence at Eastern Point, a Jesuit (Society of Jesus) retreat property near Gloucester, Massachusetts. The facility had been closed for two years for a major renovation. In the absence of this annual retreat option, our need for the safety, respite and rhythm which we had become attached to had become acute. In that setting, we were among thirty to forty souls in need of rehabilitation. We stayed in separate quarters for men and women, ate our meals together, took walks, watched fires in the fireplace turn to coals, and spent our individual prayer times, all entirely in silence. The desire, of course, is to meet with God -- but often the first few days of silence brings up all the struggles, demons, hurts and insecurities that conscious life has suppressed; all that purging is necessary and, we trust, under the watchful presence of the Lord. It can be very painful and disturbing.
February marked my seventh year of retreat at Eastern Point and Laurie's fourth. I have one journal that exclusively chronicles each one of the retreats. This seventh retreat almost filled it up completely. Seven is a sacred number in Scripture, denoting completeness, unity and fulfillment which was a powerful way to view this time and receive it. And, in going forward, it also points to the eighth, the day or time to follow in new life, new beginnings-- resurrection. Each retreat chapter of the journal is filled with battles, insights from spiritual direction, quotations from books and poems I read during the time, listenings from prayer and walks, and early mornings watching the sun rise over the enormous rocks and ocean expanse. These encounters are carefully recorded amidst the constant interaction with the beauty, majesty, mystery and fierceness at times with the created nature surrounding us.
The journal really does trace a journey in faith of my own heart, mapping a deeper sense and clarity of purpose and consistency and communication from our God over time. In reviewing it, I find it life-giving and vision-imparting and actually lived out at some level, not necessarily consciously but more palpably in reflection.
I found myself asking the Lord in the closing days of the retreat for two summaries (or you might say leading from two different perspectives) ... The first is for a take-away exhortation, a change in attitude, something to bring up when the dips come or to remind myself at the beginning of each day. The seventh was no different in this respect. As the tangles and thorns cleared and intimacy and peace and union grew, the unmistakable exhortation for me to take away was this: "Slow everything down and be grateful." An elaboration may be: "Let gratitude be your attitude in everything as you become aware -- mindful -- of all the things I have been doing in and with your life and will continue to do as I use you up for my purpose which is always in love."
I also asked for more clarity of purpose, something that explains myself to myself and gives me a place to keep working from, even if it is a more or less concealed place. In silence, some things are able to stand out in bold relief to encapsulate in truth a desire, an authenticity that expresses the inner meaning behind the visible. This is the vision driving the vision, one that cannot be fully revealed in the work, or the relationships or the family. Thus, in deep communion with Christ, I am seeking the clarity or affirmation or re-affirmation of the way forward as also reflected in the way already traveled. This is the bedrock. The question being: "Is there a purer motivation that, stated more accurately, may be God's motivation in shaping my life and work and relationships?" This is the bedrock I have to know when facing conflict, fear, choices and the temptation to compromise, to restrict or reduce that which I am actually seeing for something less elusive, more interpretable and accepting. Bedrock is something you know that you know, and you keep on knowing it and seeing it and restating it as the actual fire of vision. When one sees it or hears it, one's very heartbeat says "Yes" or "I am one with that."
The clarity of re-statement, of affirmation, came to me from two encounters both connected to personal retreat. At the very beginning of this year, I planned a three day retreat closer to home at the St. Francis Springs Prayer Center. On my way there, I stopped by my church that happened to be hosting a traveling exhibit of Mother Teresa's life. It contained panels with pictures and commentary, as well as video footage. In one place in the video, Mother Teresa makes this statement to the trainees in her Order:
"Our vocation is not our work;
Our vocation is to belong to Jesus."
My heart leapt and resonated from within. Her words inspired the next three days of contemplative prayer as I also pondered the preceding year and considered the year to come. My vocation is not to help people. My vocation is to belong to Jesus and He will help them. This is bedrock. There is no compartmentalizing anything in that.
Then, in the last days of the retreat at Eastern Point, about six weeks after encountering Mother Teresa, I was confronted with Merton's explanation of his motivation, of his aim with people and hope for himself which similarly struck a resonant cord in me and something I prayed could become more and more real in me.
"I would not try to sell anybody anything. My function
would be (as it must be in any case) to be a man of God,
a man belonging to Christ, in simplicity, to be the friend of
all of those who are interested in spiritual things, whether
of art or of prayer, or anything valid, simply to be their friend,
to be someone who could speak to them and to whom they
speak to encourage one another."
This struck me as simple, straightforward and non-manipulative. An expression from bedrock.
My friends, I am sharing this with you as I return from Israel and Magdala, the place so special to me as shared in the last letter. It is Easter. He is risen. As I share these discoveries with you "along the highway" (Isaiah 35), I share them as a journey of faith together, the adventure and discipline of walking with God and listening for his voice. Please pray with us and for us, as we pray for you.
Luke 1:35
Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up
left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed.
Blessings,
Trip