Around midnight I made it to my room. Us guys were all given our own rooms that had a bed, closet, and sink. One of the people on the retreat gave me directions on how to find it. Still I had no idea of what to expect on this retreat or where to go. I had not been given a schedule of events, and because I was so late in arriving I didn't know anyone or the layout of the land. I just knew morning prayer started around 6. It was optional but I didn't know when else or where else anything was occurring so I figured I should show up to prayer and then I would be hustled to where I supposed to be after that. Before I went to bed I noticed that while my room was very warm, there were no vents on the floor or ceiling. So I figured the heat must be coming from the hallway, which meant when I closed my door slowly but surely the room was going to get significantly colder.
I went to bed at midnight exhausted, and after rolling around for awhile I looked at the clock and saw it was 2:40. I was freezing and still hadn't slept. When I first went to bed my mind was still going a mile a minute replaying the very unsual day's odd events. But as it slowed down and I started getting sleepier so too did the temperature, and at twenty to three I got out of bed and started adding whatever sheets I could find. I had brought a big blanket and didn't want to be a burden and use the extra bedding that was provided, also I'm a little germaphobe and don't like the idea of snuggling with sheets from an unknown source with an unknown last washed date handled by an unknown person, but knew I needed sleep if I was going to function later that day. Finally I fell and stayed asleep until my alarm went off at 5:45. When I woke up that first morning and got out of bed I immediately fell down because my right leg had fallen asleep after being pressed against the hard mattress. I found the "beds" were comprised of a thin mattress put on top of a wood board. The second night though I was so physically exhausted and numb with cold from being outside for a couple hours, still with my arms full, that even with the door shut my room was still 30 or so degrees warmer than it was outside, and despite that hard mattress I slept like a rock.
On that first full morning, I went into the Church for morning prayer, again with full arms, and found only a very few others had decided to attend the optional morning prayer. I guess my fellow retreatants needed their sleep too; finals had just ended for most of them and they were probably exhausted. Being morning I finally got to start figuring out how things worked. The retreat was on the grounds of a religious community called the Brothers of Saint John. I'm not sure if you'd call it a monastery but essentially they have several buildings spread out over a few acres of land. The community is comprised of both brothers and sisters. When I say brothers think of the friar from the Robin Hood cartoon. And while I say brother, a few of them are priests, so maybe monk is the better term. I think for the most part the sisters are cloistered meaning they do get very involved with the outside world. I saw them and they always gave very big cheerful hellos, but they kept to themselves and their work. After watching them from the distance, I decided they were as industrious as the best of us, but went about their work the way a child of 5 goes about his play. And like a child playing in the snow, they seemed much too delighted about whatever it was they were doing to be bothered by the cold.
The grounds were expansive enough that walking from building to building can take some time, but small enough that driving seems a bit overkill. And since everything was covered in snow, riding a bike was out of the question. So instead the brothers and sisters would often cross-country ski from building to building. That was pretty cool to see.
So I'm in silent morning prayer, with a few of my fellows in the pews and all of the brothers kneeling on the floor in the front, when I hear a snore. One of the brothers had fallen asleep and was snoring! It was impossible for me to tell which one it was because they were all kneeling with straight postures but sure enough one of them had fallen asleep. That was very amusing.
From then on the rest of the retreat was like any standard retreat. I was able to figure out the schedule and got to meet many people. There were talks, prayer and social activities. The food was plentiful and good. My arms remained full the entire retreat, but I grew accustomed to my odd new addition. When I was saying my goodbyes on Sunday, the head priest came over, thanked me for my help, and asked if I had enjoyed what I could of the retreat. Then one of the team members said, "Father, he was one of the participants!"
But while the activities were like any other retreat it was different. These brothers who lead the retreat were amazing. To me they were like living saints. They all had a serene quality about them. When they smiled they seemed to smile with their entire body. They simply lit up whatever room they entered. They were all exceptionally bright, spoke multiple languages, hold multiple degrees, and were up to date on all the latest cultural happenings. They are Christians who live like Christ and it is catching. Paradoxically they appeared to be very rich but were materially very poor. Some of them didn't wear socks with their sandals and would have to walk through the snow that way. What little they had was functional but rarely comfortable. They didn't even have kneelers in their pews, instead they had this wooden contraption that you put behind your legs and "sit" on. You're still on your knees on the granite floor but it keeps your feet from falling asleep. But they seemed rich. I think maybe it is because in our world whenever we see people that joyful we tend to think they have it made or live cushy stress free lives. These brothers had few material possessions, and likely have a good deal of stress wondering how to make ends meet, but they are completely trusting that God will provide for them somehow and as a result, despite all their rules and harsh ways of life, they seem more free and alive than most anyone I likely will ever meet.
I went to bed at midnight exhausted, and after rolling around for awhile I looked at the clock and saw it was 2:40. I was freezing and still hadn't slept. When I first went to bed my mind was still going a mile a minute replaying the very unsual day's odd events. But as it slowed down and I started getting sleepier so too did the temperature, and at twenty to three I got out of bed and started adding whatever sheets I could find. I had brought a big blanket and didn't want to be a burden and use the extra bedding that was provided, also I'm a little germaphobe and don't like the idea of snuggling with sheets from an unknown source with an unknown last washed date handled by an unknown person, but knew I needed sleep if I was going to function later that day. Finally I fell and stayed asleep until my alarm went off at 5:45. When I woke up that first morning and got out of bed I immediately fell down because my right leg had fallen asleep after being pressed against the hard mattress. I found the "beds" were comprised of a thin mattress put on top of a wood board. The second night though I was so physically exhausted and numb with cold from being outside for a couple hours, still with my arms full, that even with the door shut my room was still 30 or so degrees warmer than it was outside, and despite that hard mattress I slept like a rock.
On that first full morning, I went into the Church for morning prayer, again with full arms, and found only a very few others had decided to attend the optional morning prayer. I guess my fellow retreatants needed their sleep too; finals had just ended for most of them and they were probably exhausted. Being morning I finally got to start figuring out how things worked. The retreat was on the grounds of a religious community called the Brothers of Saint John. I'm not sure if you'd call it a monastery but essentially they have several buildings spread out over a few acres of land. The community is comprised of both brothers and sisters. When I say brothers think of the friar from the Robin Hood cartoon. And while I say brother, a few of them are priests, so maybe monk is the better term. I think for the most part the sisters are cloistered meaning they do get very involved with the outside world. I saw them and they always gave very big cheerful hellos, but they kept to themselves and their work. After watching them from the distance, I decided they were as industrious as the best of us, but went about their work the way a child of 5 goes about his play. And like a child playing in the snow, they seemed much too delighted about whatever it was they were doing to be bothered by the cold.
The grounds were expansive enough that walking from building to building can take some time, but small enough that driving seems a bit overkill. And since everything was covered in snow, riding a bike was out of the question. So instead the brothers and sisters would often cross-country ski from building to building. That was pretty cool to see.
So I'm in silent morning prayer, with a few of my fellows in the pews and all of the brothers kneeling on the floor in the front, when I hear a snore. One of the brothers had fallen asleep and was snoring! It was impossible for me to tell which one it was because they were all kneeling with straight postures but sure enough one of them had fallen asleep. That was very amusing.
From then on the rest of the retreat was like any standard retreat. I was able to figure out the schedule and got to meet many people. There were talks, prayer and social activities. The food was plentiful and good. My arms remained full the entire retreat, but I grew accustomed to my odd new addition. When I was saying my goodbyes on Sunday, the head priest came over, thanked me for my help, and asked if I had enjoyed what I could of the retreat. Then one of the team members said, "Father, he was one of the participants!"
But while the activities were like any other retreat it was different. These brothers who lead the retreat were amazing. To me they were like living saints. They all had a serene quality about them. When they smiled they seemed to smile with their entire body. They simply lit up whatever room they entered. They were all exceptionally bright, spoke multiple languages, hold multiple degrees, and were up to date on all the latest cultural happenings. They are Christians who live like Christ and it is catching. Paradoxically they appeared to be very rich but were materially very poor. Some of them didn't wear socks with their sandals and would have to walk through the snow that way. What little they had was functional but rarely comfortable. They didn't even have kneelers in their pews, instead they had this wooden contraption that you put behind your legs and "sit" on. You're still on your knees on the granite floor but it keeps your feet from falling asleep. But they seemed rich. I think maybe it is because in our world whenever we see people that joyful we tend to think they have it made or live cushy stress free lives. These brothers had few material possessions, and likely have a good deal of stress wondering how to make ends meet, but they are completely trusting that God will provide for them somehow and as a result, despite all their rules and harsh ways of life, they seem more free and alive than most anyone I likely will ever meet.
0 comments:
Post a Comment