The first thing that needs to be said is that this retreat center is amazing. A pre-Civil War mansion, turned Roman Catholic Convent, turned ecumenical prayer center and retreat facility. The folks who live here are prayerful and hospitable. The opportunities for prayer -- 3 services a day, bi-weekly Eucharist, centering prayer groups, Taize worship several times a month, an art room, a labyrinth -- are varied. The life of prayer evidenced in this congregation is deeply tied to their sense of place and mission in the city of Richmond. They follow a weekly rhythm of prayer for the city -- they pray by name for public officials, non-profit agencies, school teachers and first responders. From this I learned that being on retreat is, in fact, a way of engaging our world deeply. This place is only 2 hours away from DC and, if you couldn't already tell, I highly recommend it.
The second important piece of this retreat was the opportunity to share with colleagues on retreat. I must confess to hardly knowing these guys before the retreat and, as a young clergy-woman, was uncertain how the dynamics would work. It was nice to know that, while our demographic details might be widely varied in this group (okay ... truthfully, that MY demographics would be quite different from the rest of the group) we hold a shared calling. And that similarity -- not to mention our kinship in Christ -- was certainly enough to adhere us together for the work of sharing our lives and prayer. Note: if you are a pastor in the Christian Reformed Church, there is grant money available for you to try something similar in your setting. Check THIS out.
Third and finally, while there are many oddities attendant to the calling to vocational ministry, surely this is, well, one of them: I am to pray like it's my job ... because it is. I have trouble justifying this sometimes. It can be easier to settle into doing things -- actual, concrete tasks that produce a sermon or a pastoral visit or a proposal to Council. Prayer -- beyond a daily time spent in the word and a list of intercessions for congregation members -- can feel like a luxury. And, indeed, if I were to catalog the things I did on retreat, you might well agree with that assessment.
What do you do on retreat?
Take naps
Read poetry
Corporate worship (in which I do NOT take the lead)
Prayer with friends.
Prayer in silence.
Devour good prose
Walk the labyrinth
Reflect on the Psalms
Draw
Write
Go slowly.
But friends, ask me why.
WHY do you do these things?
To remember God
To remember self
To clear out the cobwebs on my soul.
To make space.
To rest and to wake up.
To die and to come alive.
In all of this, I was reminded of a wonderful quotation from Catholic priest & theologian, Henri Nouwen:
"If I could have a gentle 'interiority' --
a heart of flesh and not of stone,
a room with spots on which one might walk barefooted --
then God and my fellow human beings could meet each other there."
Perhaps therein lies the best possible answer to the question "why". Boiled down, the job of a pastor is to be the space where God and human beings can meet each other. In our sermons, in our intercessions, in our visits, in our hospitality, in our being we provide this space. But, to be or to provide that space takes work. If my life is to be a place where I invite you to "walk barefooted," as it were, I must first be gentled (no small feat in my case), reminded that I am of more use to God and to you when I am human and vulnerable instead of invincible and alien. That is why.
No comments:
Post a Comment