Back Into the World

Retreats are a great way to carve out some time to focus on God and our relationship with him. But at the end of a retreat, we must leave the relative solitude portion of our journey and come back into the world and continue the journey God intends for us.

I decided to end my reflective retreat by immersing myself in a multitude of people. A huge opportunity to do this was just south of the monastery where they were dedicating a new pedestrian bridge that was built on an old train bridge. I went and decided to walk across the Hudson and back (about 4 miles).

It was an interesting pilgrimage in it's own way. All sorts of people from all walks of life were on the bridge. I had just decided to ask God "what should I do here?" when someone backed into me and asked me to take their family's picture. So I did and they took mine in turn. For the rest of the walk, every time I saw some doing the "here you take this picture and then I'll take one with you in it" dance, I approached the group and offered to snap a picture with everyone in it (on their own camera). Once they realized I wasn't after money, they really opened up and smiles ensued. I must have taken 30 pictures for others this afternoon.

That brightened the remainder of the trip, and now I'm home, unpacked and ready to face the day tomorrow. Thank you for coming along on the journey!

Final Reflections

I guess all good things come to an end. I found a beautiful spot in the library to do these last few reflections (partly to be closer to the wireless access point, but they couldn't have placed it in a better spot). As I'm sitting here typing, friends who need to leave early are coming by and saying their goodbyes, and it almost feels like departing from a family reunion.

I'm not going to try and sum up the week. Did I find God? Absolutely (all over the place)! Did I struggle a little? Yes... that too. No, my hair didn't turn white like Charlton Heston's (at least I don't think it did, but then again I don't think I'm grey - my wife disagrees).

What I had was a wonderful journey with a number of different companions - other retreaters, the brothers and even some folks in the nearby towns.

It was incredible...

Now I need to quickly finish packing, enjoy the dinner feast (if breakfast was so good on a Sunday, I can't wait for the main meal), and then begin my journey back. I hope to try the new park on the train trestle, and then enjoy the day as I return to normal life.

But first, I need to log some time in "my" chair - the one in the picture above...

A Celebration!

It turns out I'm here on the weekend that they celebrate the dedication of the chapel over 80 years ago. Breakfast this morning was a full spread - eggs, bacon, etc in the hot line, smoked salmon and flavored cream cheese and bagels over by the toasters and (my favorite) traditional Irish oatmeal, along with plentiful fresh fruit (I had local concord grapes).

The Eucharist was much more ornate with incense, hymns and a sermon. No, they didn't have an organist, but you couldn't tell by the singing. During the sermon Br. Bede shared with us that the chapel was designed by a famous architect, though modified later to make it simpler. It has some unique design characteristics that really support the chanting (and it does). He shared that he knew he was "home" when he first set foot in the place many years ago.

I can attest that the chapel is a special place indeed. They always keep it open and I frequently found myself just going there to sit. The simplicity of it and the "feel" makes you feel as though you are home. God is definitely present here.

The Crypt

Beneath the chapel is the Crypt. This space holds several meditation areas. The largest has an altar and I believe the body of the founder is entombed behind it. Nearby is a columbarium where the ashes of other brothers are kept. There's a shrine to Mary that you saw in the sculpture blog, and as usual a visual feast in terms of artwork. One especially nice space is a meditation room that is set up in what appears to be an asian motif.

Companions for the Journey - Part 4

It amazes me how fast this place can turn people into companions. As I said before, we're all here on some type of journey, and frequently, we come from different places, intersect for a while (sometimes briefly, sometimes for a longer period), and then move on as we follow our path.

As I said earlier, on Friday, we saw a whole new group of people come together. I think only 3 people stayed from Tuesday through the weekend. And on Friday, I couldn't imagine having more different groups share the same space... serenity seekers, a group of women from a church in Brooklyn and another group from a church in DC. There was a wide age range, and as I said before, pretty much every flavor that human beings come in. I also noted on Friday that the groups were pretty much keeping to themselves. I figured that would be the case for the weekend.

I figured wrong.

Starting around the coffee pot, and expanding to the dining hall and then to pilgrim hall, I've noticed connections being made - and I've made many myself. Of course the groups still largely are together (most of the groups have programs they're going though), but throughout yesterday and into today, I've experienced much more interaction.

A major event was Saturday night. The women from the church in Brooklyn sort of took over the place. They provided an incredible feast for everyone - we even had desert! Following that, they invited us to a hymn sing (in the crypt of all places). So we carried chairs down into the crypt below the chapel, and there we had a glorious time praising God and singing our hearts out. I joined them not expecting what to find and fearful that I might be the only one outside their group, but again I was wrong. A number of the independent retreaters, some people from the church in DC and even a serenity seeker or two joined in.

There was NO feeling like an alien here after that...

Walking the Labyrinth

I went out yesterday to try and walk across a new rail trail that goes across the Hudson river a few miles south of the monastery. Unfortunately yesterday was the grand opening ceremony and they wouldn't let the public on the bridge until too late (I didn't want to have to rush back for Vespers again).

Upon returning, I noticed the labyrinth that the monastery has near the visitor lot. I've always wanted to try that, so this seemed an opportune time. A labyrinth is a path that's folded up on itself in a circle. It's not a maze as there is only one path to the center, though it twists and turns in unexpected directions. There are different ways to approach walking the labyrinth. The one I choose was to carry a "burden" (a small rock) and pray a prayer of supplication at each turn as I walked towards the center. Once there, I left my "burden" for God, and returned praying a prayer of thanksgiving at each turn on the way out.

It was a different experience. The walking and praying allowed you to focus on your problem you were bringing to God, and the prayers of thanksgiving on the way out forced me to give thanks for longer than I usually do.

Part of our J2A/Way of Pilgrimage curriculum this year is aimed at trying different spiritual practices to see which ones "fit"... and this one doesn't fit for me. It was nice, and I can see how people might like it, but it just didn't seem worth the effort of seeking out a labyrinth. But that's part of the neat thing about our journey this year. We have a great chance to try these things together, knowing that some we will like and others we won't.

Patrick, the Pilgrim

Yesterday at lunch I sat across the table from one younger "monks" who has been around since I arrived. I've noticed that he seems to know his way around pretty well, and I've seen him entering the one "monastic enclosure" area. However, he doesn't wear the robes or sit with the Brothers during the services. I always assumed he was a novice (a monk in training).

So I asked him what his story was. It turns out that he calls himself a pilgrim. He became homeless when he was 17 and then he wandered for three years. Starting about four years ago he went to a (different) monastery and offered to trade hard work for room and meals. He now travels from monastery to monastery, staying a few months in each place that will have him. He's pretty sure he will eventually join a monastic order, I guess he's still seeking which one it will be. Currently, he seems to be working on keeping up the considerable grounds of the monastery (mowing laws, building garden walls, etc.).

I asked him if he enjoys it, and he said he struggled for a while with the idea of not owning anything, so four years ago, he would occasionally leave a monastery to work for a bit to buy "useless stuff" and now he realizes "that if you have a roof, food and love, what else do you need?"

While I'm not interested in becoming a monk, I guess I've never really thought about the process somebody goes through to become one. Yes, I know the monastery has an official "monk training program" which takes years. But how does God move a person in that direction? I would imagine that Patrick's path is one of many.

Reflection... Water

This morning I went back down to the river. For some reason, I don't see a lot of the guests down here - especially in the morning. This has been my favorite spot to sit. I'm on a makeshift slate bench that's on a rock outcrop about 4 feet above a slate pebble beach. It's quiet and peaceful, and the gentle sound of the waves lapping against the beach allow your mind to wonder. It's especially interesting to see the waves suddenly increase in intensity about 2 minutes after a boat passes - even if it was far from shore.

It's interesting how I'm drawn to the water. One of the monks might tell me it has something to relate to my baptism, but I'm not sure I'd agree. We all seem to be drawn to water - Christian or not. (I remember seeing all the nice houses along the Tigris river in Iraq from my brother's pictures when he served over there.)

Here at the monastery we do immerse ourselves in water (figuratively if not literally - I haven't seen anyone swimming yet). We're dipping our fingers in a bowl of water upon arriving for the services, getting spritzed with the aspergillum (I told you there was a name for the waterspritzerthingy) at the end of Compline, a little water is mixed with wine for the Eucharist and of course we consume it at meals all the while spending time along this gorgeous waterway.

The sounds of this spot by the river encourage meditation as well. While I'm sitting here I can hear the sounds of the chimes at the Vanderbilt Estate across the river. Some birds are keeping me company and some squirrels are playing nearby. There's a very distant hum from traffic across the river and now suddenly the sound of raindrops hitting the leaves (and now my journal as well).

Maybe the gentle rain is telling me to shut the book and listen for a bit...

Religious Icons

No, I'm not talking about the little square thingy on your computer desktop that opens your Bible software.... Religious icons, generally from the orthodox tradition, are stylized paintings of key people from the Bible, Saints, etc. The monastery has many beautiful icons - many with gold leaf (which is hard to photograph). You saw the icons on the main cross in the chapel below. Here are some others.

Sculptures

Religious artwork and sculptures are also all around. I'll skip the many statues of saints for now, and focus on some of the more interesting ones. The cross is the huge one I mentioned earlier. It completely dominates the left wall of the chapel - probably 10 or 12 feet high. There is an interesting low sculpture set into the forest floor down near the river. A marble sculpture of the hand of God in the pilgrim hall, and a large statue of Mary just as you go down to the crypt. While not pictured, there are many little pieces of sculpture, bas relief, etc. all around the place.

Crosses

With a name like Holy Cross Monastery, you might expect that there would be a few crosses around the place (and you'd be right). All shapes and sizes of crosses abound ranging from the huge (10 or 12 ft high) cross on the side wall of the sanctuary, to the simple wood one found in my room. Here are a few pictures of some...

Companions for the Journey - Part 3

This quiet monastery that I've experienced so far is suddenly a bustling place. The weekend groups have arrived. We have a bunch of women from a church in Brooklyn, a church vestry group, a group of friends from New York who call themselves "Serenity Seekers" - who seem to exist just to visit this place twice a year - and a few other individual retreaters.

The diversity of guests is incredible. Joining me on this journey for the weekend are men & women... black, white, hispanic & asian... several different religions - some even "creative spiritual but not religious" types... one is just a screenwriter here quiet to complete a work that starts filming in December... Heck, I'm sure there are probably both straight and gay here as well although I didn't ask or tell.

As we were all waiting (some more patiently than others) for dinner, I came across the sister who's here on the silent retreat. She seemed overwhelmed by having to whisper that she's on retreat and can't talk to everyone who tried to start a conversation with her. I smiled at her and (I'm not sure I should share this) we whispered a conversation where I found out she's with a convent in Manhattan and up here for a one week silent retreat. I told her I hoped I wasn't spoiling it for her and she whispered that she's starting to get ready to come out of it - which I took to mean she's bursting at the seams to talk to someone after a week. So there you have it, you can add "corrupter of nuns" to my list of accomplishments for the week. We agreed to share some contact information (written of course) at breakfast tomorrow.

After dinner we had a "guest orientation meeting" in pilgrim hall (the main lounge). It's funny, when there were just a few of us, we didn't need orienting - perhaps the weekend crowd is more boisterous than the ones that come during the week. For example, it's 10:00 - well into "the great silence" - and the serenity seekers are not being very serene next door. But then again, I'm typing very loudly too... it's going to be an interesting weekend.

A Tale of Two Gift Shoppes

I waited around this afternoon before heading out to tour the Hudson Valley because I wanted to check out "The Monk's Cell", the gift shop the monks run to help raise money for the monastery. This place is a wonderful two rooms filled with cool religious books, prayer beads, wall hangings, incense, and the like. I could have gone nuts... there was so much good stuff there - I wondered if they had a payment plan.

In the end I purchased "The Episcopal Handbook" (which promises to explain all those weird little things we do differently from all the others), a book by Eugene Peterson, and a book of Psalms for a Pilgrim People which is a modern setting of the psalms that might be useful in J2A. I also picked up some trial packs of incense to try at a couple of our meetings.

After that I again went outside the grounds to see what kind of trouble I could get into (this time Stewart's Ice Cream... sorry couldn't resist). I wondered over to Hyde Park and went to walk around the grounds of the FDR historic site. There I found a gift shop too... but this one was mostly all kitsch - tshirts, fluffy stuffed dogs of the same breed as FDR's, and all sorts of cheap whatnot. Yes there were a couple of decent history books and a wide variety of FDR biographies, but most of it seemed junk.

To be fair, I did see some "Holy Cross Monastery" ice scrapers, and coffee mugs, but I wonder if the monks would do better if they offered cuddly monk dolls and tshirts that read "Ascetics do it... rarely" or something like that.

I will be heading back tomorrow (Kristen, don't pay the bills yet)...

A Conversation with Brother Adam

As I was planning to come here, Dean (my priest) suggested that I schedule some time for a spiritual conversation with one of the Brothers. I did, and was contacted by Brother Adam. We had our discussion this morning at 10:00.

Honestly, I was a bit nervous beforehand... what do you say to someone you don't know, probably won't see again (at least not that frequently, unless I come back), and is inviting you to have a deep personal conversation with him? I found myself lapsing back into my school days... are you graded? What if you fail? If you say the wrong thing, do the monks just ask you to pack up and go?

No, I won't tell you any details about what we talked about.

But at 10:00, Brother Adam found me in Pilgrim Hall (a sort of main lounge area), and we went to St. Mary's lounge which is a small comfy room that sort of looks like your great aunt's parlour. I had shared this blog with him before hand, and forgot to delete my comment about some of the monks being overweight... yes he had read it (oops... now I was looking around for the security monk with the cardboard box for my things).

But in actuality, I was amazed at how quickly I felt at ease with him. We had a wonderful hour together talking about all aspects of religion. I shared part of my history and he shared some of his. We spoke about the intersection of faith and career, balancing ones desires with those of loved ones, discerning God's will in all aspects of our life... it was an incredible conversation. At the end he pronounced me mostly normal, though with a touch of Lutheran in me (ah... passed, whew).

Afterwards I went down to the river to reflect on the conversation. Again I won't give you details, but I realized the value in these sorts of conversations. It wasn't like a conversation with your priest who you see regularly... I didn't really come with an "agenda" or try to make a good impression, and he didn't seem to have an agenda either. But precisely because of that, I was able to be more open and honest, and hear his fresh perspective.

By the way, you can read Br. Adam's thoughts here... http://adamsmonkthoughts.blogspot.com/

Companions for the Journey - Part 2

After a couple of days here and getting used to the operation of the place, I'm beginning to get to know the other people here - both brothers and guests (my companions on this journey). The most interesting thing to me is that I'm definitely a minority here, since almost everyone is ordained. My typical dining companions are a couple of priests on individual retreats like me and some of the "paint your faith" retreaters - as well as a brother or two. Conversations happen over the meals - except for breakfast which is in silence and the first part of lunch when Br. Ron is reading from the 1776 book. They also happen around the coffee area, and as we encounter each other around the place.

The common thing we all have is that we're here on some sort of journey... each of us seeking some way to connect with God. I'm sure each of us is bringing some sort of baggage that we must deal with (like my need to get away this afternoon), but we also each bring something to the table to share as well. One of the paint your faith participants is an ordained chaplain in a retirement center. It was interesting talking to her considering my recent experiences putting Mom in a nursing home and Kristen's contrasting experience with her mother and nursing homes. I'm bringing an outsider perspective. So far I'm the only one who seems to be employed outside the religious establishment. But I'm also bringing my experience in working with youth, as every church struggles with how to do this in the best way for them.

It was fun after Supper to visit the mini-exhibition put on by the paint your faith people. This seems to be part art class and part group sharing experience. It sounded interesting, but not exactly my cup of tea. Maybe they need a Photograph Your Faith course...

Also at Supper tonight, we were joined by new companions - most notably a small youth group from Toronto. It was interesting to see them at Compline with the same bewildered look on their faces I had just a day or two ago (perhaps I still do). I loved the very pure reaction the kids gave to being spritzed with the water hammer thingy at the end of Compline (I'm sure it also has a special religious name like Waterhammerthingium). I'm still trying to figure that one out, but I guess it's some sort of symbolic blessing that's to remind us of our baptism.

Getting Away for a While

We have a long break after Dinner at Noon and Vespers at 5:00, and I reserved that time to go outside the grounds and explore a bit of the interesting things the Hudson Valley has to offer... you know blow off some steam and see what kind of trouble you can get into. I welcomed this opportunity today as the morning was cold, grey and drizzly (matching my mood).

I basically toured route 9 and 9w (both sides of the Hudson around here) and took in the quaint towns and establishments along the road. As I drove south, I moved away from the clouds which brightened the day somewhat (it's amazing how much effect the weather can have on your outlook). After realizing that there was nothing in an antique store that I would want and that would fit in the Miata, I stopped at the Vanderbilt Mansion across the river from the monastery. This is a large house (small compared to Biltmore - the "other" Vanderbilt house) and not as large in comparison to some of the larger homes in our area of NJ (yes, a wealthy area to be sure). The grounds were beautiful, but I had wasted too much time on the road and had to get back, so I only had time for a quick walk around the grounds. One thing it did provide was a wonderful view of the monastery from across the river - a different perspective so to speak - symbolic of the different perspective I needed today.

After the quick tour I had to RACE back to the monastery to get there in time for Vespers. I mean you don't want the monks getting pissed at you, do you? I got there just as the bell finished ringing in remembrance of Mary (the start of many of the services here). Fortunately, I wasn't stopped by a cop... I can imagine trying to explain to an officer that I was speeding to rush back to a monastery for a vesper service so I could slow down. Ironic.

Lighting a Candle for Dan, his family and his friends

The monastery has a Pricket Stand, which holds a bunch of votive candles near the reserve sacrament. I've seen these in Catholic churches, but this is the first time I saw one in a protestant church. I've always hear the phrase "I'm lighting a candle for..." and never completely understood it. Here, I learned that by lighting the candle, we remind ourselves of our baptism and that we share the light of Christ. We are reminded that prayer is not self centered, it is God centered (the Pricket Stand is usually near a shrine or the reserved sacrament). And when we conclude our prayer and leave the lit candle behind, we are reminded that we never really leave the presence of God or the company of his saints.

After lighting the candle, I waited for 30 minutes in God's sanctuary for the Eucharist to begin. I was reflecting on the protestant concept of the "sainthood of all believers". I'll go out on a limb here assuming that Dan was a baptised Christian, and acknowledge that we now have a Saint Dan. How would we carve the statue of Saint Dan? Would he be wearing a robe - the "in thing" for saintly attire - or in his wrestling gear? I remember when Billy (our youngest son) died and I tried to picture Saint Billy. I decided that if he were carved in a robe, he'd have to have a look of itchy disgust on his face at the cumbersome garment. Saint Billy would best be carved in shorts with a skinned knee feeding the family dog... one... kernel... of ... dog... food... at... a... time. (We had a very patient dog.)

This morning my prayers centered around Dan's family, his friends, and the kids in my youth group - all of whom must be hurting. Yes, there will be an official mourning period of a few days... but do understand that the mourning goes on for a long time afterward. Especially for the family. They will be the loneliest starting a week after everyone goes home and continuing for a few months afterwards. I still don't know how I survived that time.

A Sad Morning

This morning I woke up to a beautiful red streaked sky over the Hudson... and a text message from Kristen saying that Dan had died. I didn't know Dan beyond the fact that he was a 15 year old kid who had a bad reaction to some medication and lapsed into a coma. I was following the FaceBook buzz from the youth in J2A as I was ready to leave for the monastery and promised one of my kids that I would pray for him while here.

Kristen was reading my blog last evening before she with out for coffee with a friend who's son had also died a year or so ago. There she learned that a friend of her friend's son had died and it turned out to be Dan. So this morning had a sort of grey pallor to it to match the sky. I spent a half an hour in the chapel praying for Dan's family and friends and for the kids in my group who must be hurting right now.

Silence

After Compline each night we begin the Great Silence, a roughly 12 hour block (from the end of Compline until 8:30 the next morning) of time when we don't talk to anyone. This includes breakfast (which I told you about below), but also the entire overnight period.

This sounds boring, but silence is interesting in it's own way. I don't think I ever get true silence anymore. We live on a busy street, and within the house, there is always the sound of something running (my marine aquarium has pumps running 24/7). Right now it's so quiet here that the sound of my laptop fan is noticeable and the sound of my fingers typing seems loud.

But silence gives us space... space to reflect, space to notice things, space to think.

One of my fondest memories of my Dad were coming down early in the morning to find him just sitting in silence at the kitchen table drinking a cup of coffee. Dad always made Holy coffee - you made up a pot of instant Maxwell House and then boiled the Hell out of it for the rest of the morning (it just kept getting thicker and thicker). Dad was always the silent type - except when he was grunting at you - and I remember wondering what he was thinking about (I still do).

Here at the monastery, walking in silence opens up my other senses. There is so much artwork around you can't move without coming across something with religious significance. There are candles, icons, stained glass windows, sculptures, flower arrangements, potpourri bowls, you name it and they have it. When I'm walking around talking with others, however, it all recedes into the background. The times for silence open me up to noticing these treasures.

It's interesting how things I would find boring in the real world, suddenly become interesting once you force yourself to slow down and observe.

Before Compline this evening, I went into the Chapel to sit in silence for 20 minutes. I just wanted to notice the place. Some light of one form of another was softly illuminating the gold leaf on the icon covered cross up front. The air was still scented with faint wisps from the incense that they burned last night. It was so quiet I could hear buzzing in my ears (I've heard that's the blood coursing through the capillaries near your ear drum) and the faint ticking of a clock a few rooms away. The signs that "this place is holy" literally hit all your senses, and I realized that even as I was noticing all this stuff, I was engaged in a form of prayer as people began to quietly enter for the service.

Time for Reflection

The whole purpose of a retreat - either a group retreat or an individual one - is to carve out time to be with God. Since this is an individual retreat for me, it's time to be alone with God. Being at the monastery facilitates this. The rhythm of worship times and meal times creates several natural zones for you to find a place to be alone. Even the group retreaters can be seen doing this from time to time.

Last night after Supper and before Compline, I was able to steal away on the porch looking over the Hudson. The moon was around 10 days old so it was bright and Jupiter shone brightly right next to it. Across the river, I heard a horn and saw the lights in the passenger cars on one of the Amtrak trains going south. It almost seemed like a model railroad. I reflected on the strange mix of astronomy and trains - both key features of my history. Last week in our J2A readings we spent a day on reflecting on where we have been in order to know where we are going.

This morning after Matins and Breakfast, I walked down the hill to the river. The Hudson this far north seems serene. I understand there's some boat traffic, but none was moving during the morning. Little (1-inch) waves lapped softly onto the crushed slate beach. I let my thoughts wander and recorded them in my paper journal. One thought I had was that people need to be more thoughtful and remove their "spiritual litter". The slate bench that I sat on had the remenants of 3 candles and an oily mess that must have come from an incense burn. A little to my left was a cracked votive candle hanging from a tree. But even this reminds me that I'm one of countless pilgrims over the years who have journeyed to this place. In some sense they too are my companions and I took a moment to pray for them.

This afternoon, I spent time reflecting in a more "normal" way. I got in the car and drove. I was planning to go tour a nearby site, but got distracted and caught in traffic. But since I had nowhere to go and nowhere to be by a certain time, I spent the time reflecting on some of the bigger questions we all face from time to time.

Finally, before Compline tonight, I spent 20 minutes in the chapel in the (mostly) dark just trying to sense the place. As part of that I lit my first candle ever (itself a form of prayer) for Dan - a teen on life support that some of my kids in the youth group are concerned for - and his friends.

Worshiping Throughout the Day

There's a gorgeous chapel that connects the guest house with the monastic enclosure. There we will worship five times each day. Matins is at 7:00, Eucharist is celebrated at 9:00, Diurnum at Noon, Vespers at 5:00 and Compline at 8:30.

As I said earlier, the first service of Vespers was interesting... I wasn't prepared for the monastic style of worship. Simple spoken or chanted services. I don't know the music and after finally attending some services where I did pick up the book and bulletin, it turns out it's OK with them if I don't know it. The guests are encouraged to watch and listen.

In the past, this would bother me. I never understood the people who seem to come to church to just watch. I mean why bother? But as I had to watch the past few services, I now realize that there is indeed value in communing with God by observing, listening, and thinking.

Still it is a different experience. Being an organist, I see they have what appears to be a pipe organ high up on the one wall... but we haven't heard it yet. I thought for sure they would during the Eucharist, but they didn't. Maybe Sunday??

At the Eucharist, Brother Larry shared that this was the feast of St. Jerome, one of the scholars of the ancient church. It turns out he was the one who translated the Bible into Latin - the Latin Vulgate. I appreciated this, as I've always been interested in how our Bible came to be... why do different versions say different things, etc. It's fascinating to read about how people were killed over their viewpoint on this - especially the decision years ago to publish the Bible in the language (English/German I think were first) of the common people. Today we take that for granted. So St. Jerome was one of the original Bible translators. It also turns out that he was quite controversial... perhaps his path had no shortcuts either.

Sharing Meals Together

Dinner last evening was fabulous. We had whole wheat pasta with fresh mozzarella cheese, mushrooms, and olives. This was accompanied by a spinach salad, a rice salad and a quinoa salad. The monastery chef has trained at the CIA across the river and it shows - despite the fact that he was off duty yesterday - it turns out this fabulous food was all LEFTOVERS!

At dinner, I sat with three other retreaters and three brothers. (I noticed that most of the brothers are somewhat overweight... perhaps monastery food won't be as sparse as I expected.) Brother Larry was on my left (with a British accent) and brother Ron on my right (with the oxygen). Brother ____ (I really need to get better with names) sat across from me. It turns out that he is the technology guru and filled me in on how to access the wireless (just turn it on).

The dining room (again there is an official religious name for it) is a modern octagonal space that joins the 1902 guest house. It commands a wonderful view of the Hudson river. Several large round tables seating 8 people each seem just the right size to allow for conversations. I learned about my fellow companions and what they were here for, and got to know a bit about the brothers seated at my table. It's funny how our J2A lesson (other blog) spoke this morning about how there are no shortcuts to our faith journey and from talking to others, their path has been as varied as mine has been.

Breakfast this morning was done in silence. That was interesting. Most of us choose a place at a table facing the view. Of course we smiled at each other, but it was weird not being able to communicate. Again I felt a bit like an alien... I had to find my own way around the breakfast spread. I saw a couple of people had oatmeal, but it was nowhere to be found - depsite there being many fabulous toppings for it. So I settled for cold cereal, toast and yogurt.

Lunch is the feast meal for the day. That's when i'm told the chef really shows his stuff.

Companions On My Journey

First, understand that I'm terrible with names... I have to meet you several times before I remember your name. Each time I meet someone I try to focus on their name for about 2 minutes and then as I loose myself in conversation, I find myself racking my brain trying to remember their name. So forgive me if I describe people rather than use names.

As I wondered around the guest house yesterday afternoon, other companions on the journey began to arrive. I learned there were two groups up here in additon to a few of us making individual retreats. One group is gathering to worship and then work on local Habitat for Humanity projects, and another is learning how to "Paint Your Faith". Most of the other individual retreaters (is that the right word?) are ordained clergy of one form or another.

The paint your faith group seems to be mostly women - ranging in age from I would guess mid 30s to seniors, and the Habitat group seems to be retired men and some young 20somethings - these younger guys may be entry-level monks (again, I'm sure there's an official word for them) as I saw them going into the "monastic enclosure" - the sort of forbidden zone to us guests. I'm told that as the weekend approaches, some of these groups may switch out.

One guest is a woman who seemed very quiet. While we were waiting for dinner, I was out on the back porch. I tried to say hello, but she just smiled and turned away - did I tell you I feel like an unusual alien here? I later learned she was a sister from a neighboring convent who is a guest here for a silence experience - she only seems to be allowed to speak during worship.

Finally, there are the brothers - the monks. I've had brief conversations with several of them and they come across as the most centered people I've ever met. I'm dying to sneak in and bug the monastic enclosure... is that where they let their hair down and have their spats "yo Harry... stop moving my prayer book", or do they really live like this all the time.

I said I feel like an alien... but it's a different sort of alien. You feel a warmth from all your companions and I've had good conversations with several (I won't go into details here). I'm looking forward to spending a week getting to know them.

Now What? A Stranger in a Strange Land...

After finding the guest house, I found out that I'm assigned to St. Stephen. It's not quite how it sounds as the rooms are named rather than numbered. I have a little cell on the second floor. Basically it's just a bed a small desk and a couple of lamps and side tables. This is going to be interesting.

Honestly, my first thoughs were along the lines of "alright George... you're here... now what the &*%# are you going to do."

So I just grabbed the camera and went around taking pictures. The space is beautiful - both inside and out. It is very austere, but we knew that going in. After calling Kristen and updating some select pics on Facebook, I signed off facebook and shut off the phone. Walking around some more, I did find a wireless router so I'm able to connect and keep the blogs up.

By then it was time for vespers... all I'll say for now (time for bed) is that it was the first time in ages that I felt completely out of place in worship. The services are simple, the Brothers chant the service in a sort of Gregorian Chant sound. The words are familiar, but they use incense which I've never experienced up close before. To top it off, I didn't notice the cart with the programs and books, so I was flying blind. AND to my mortification, my sneakers squeek LOUDLY on the floor of the chapel... so I wasn't about to go trapsing off to look for the bulletin. All I could do is sit and watch... but surprisingly, I still felt God's presence.

I'll fill you in more tomorrow...

The Drive Up the Hudson

My drive up from central jersey was glorious... especially after I left the "typical New Jersey" area (GSP and NJ Turnpike). I got lost many times (despite having a GPS unit - or perhaps because of it) trying to find the entrance to the Palisades Parkway. The GPS is usually a good guide, especially when you trust it and just tell it to "go here". But today I wanted to take the scenic drive - rather than the fastest way - and I had difficulty telling it to go against the world's view. Perhaps this was an omen.

The trip was not without it's vices... I was tired and hungry after numerous circles around the medowlands complex (the new road construction doesn't match the GPS unit's internal maps) and I fell for McDonald's beconing golden arches.

From there, the trip improved. I put the top down on the Miata and could feel myself relaxing as I traveled up the Palisades Parkway. I was definitely in tourist mode, but was able to make a connection with one of the maintenance workers who told me of a nice vantage point off the beaten path. The view from the extra effort (both at connecting with others and from the 100 yd walk) was well worth it.

I noticed that as I got closer to the monastery, I was getting nervous. I suddenly was craving ice cream (I always eat when nervous), telling myself they would never have ice cream at a monastery and this was my last chance for several days. So I had my ice cream, calmed my nerves and turned in the driveway.

After searching a bit, I found the guesthouse office and checked in...

Why Am I Here?

I don't know exactly why I came to Holy Cross. I first heard about it from the Men's group at our church - I think they had a retreat up there years ago and I guess it stuck in my head after hearing about it. For a variety of reasons, I wasn't able to take vacation before now, and since I had some time to burn, I decided to give it a try.

I'm not sure what my goal is for my time here... I trust that God will guide me. I intend to disconnect from the electronic world a bit (except for this blog and the other one I write, and of course communication home). I won't do any of the mindless sitting in front of hunk of silicone just "surfing" or "watching" as I'm sometimes prone to do.

I intend to take lots of photos... I find when I look through a viewfinder, I look closer at the world around me and it helps me connect. And I am keeping a (much more intensive) journal book... this blog is just the highlights from that. Much of what I write here will focus on life on an individual retreat. I intend to use it with my youth group.

So mostly, while I'm here I just want to relax and spend time focusing on God and His plan for me. What am I to do with my life and how does God want me to do it?

It sounds like a simple question...