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...