PCC Retreat response

 

Rule of Life: Prayer

1. As I settle down in Dr. Harris’ office late in the afternoon, eager to start my individual retreat for Pastoral Care and Counseling class, rocking in my chair, with Andrea my retreat guide greeting me and smiling at me from behind the computer, I notice a drinking glass on the office desk with a sandwich bag covering it. The glass is bit more slender than most, perhaps, with a slight tapering from top to bottom. The base is thick and concave on the inside. The rim at the top carries a faint gold line, faded from years of use. I’ve seen this glass before…um, yes! It’s Dr. Harris’ favorite drinking glass.

I have only ever seen Dr. Harris drink water from it, and with water in it the glass seems to capture light and enhance it. And yet it doesn’t capture the light, of course, not much of it, anyway. It’s transparent. Effortlessly transparent. Beautifully transparent. Stunningly clear.

Hold the light, cherish it, and let it pass through.

2. Andrea encourages me to walk the Jerusalem Mile at least once during my 24-hour retreat. You might think that, over the course of my three years living and working at Richmond Hill, I would have walked the labyrinth a hundred times, but I’ve made only a dozen trips to the center and back. And to be honest with you, if walking it those twelve times has been effective or transformative for me, I haven’t noticed. “It’s a beautiful walk,” has been about all I could say, which is a fine thing to say. I like to walk.

This time I decide I will walk it after every meal during my short retreat. No conscious prayers. No coordinated breathing. No pious thinking. Just walk it. On my first trip around, after dinner on Friday, before I notice what I’m doing I scoop up a branch along the path, a branch that seems perfect for swinging back and forth. Swinging the branch in my hand leads to swinging my arms, which leads to more or less skipping my way along. All-a-sudden I’m done and I feel great! On my second trip around, after Saturday’s breakfast, I slide along sideways in bare feet, stopping to spin here and there. For my third walk, after lunch, I imagine that the only stones that are actually below me are the ones in the center of the path – so I hold my arms out and try to balance my way around.

They say, “Pray as you can, not as you can’t.” I don’t think this means give up on discipline. Sometimes we pray and serve even when we don’t want to or don’t think we can. But on the other hand, I’m finding these days that it’s good to be less disciplined with the disciplines. Hold on, but hold on gently, loosely, freely.