Wernersville Tree ~ as I approached |
Having left the arts and crafts pub in Reading, it was a direct route to the Jesuit Center but a road not yet travelled. I would be filled with thoughts of riches and poverty and how crossing one boundary can lead to such radical changes as I simply drove out of Reading into West Reading. Do people drive this everyday? Do they get used to it?
The brain will get used to silence. Thirty hours in I woke up and felt it. I had made the transition.
I am not a fan of superlatives... Questions like who is your favorite band can baffle me. I used to be able to say I never read a lot on retreats. But I fell into the writings of (let me be safe here) one of the most influential authors in my life, Frederick Buechner.
I came across his book The Clown in The Belfry as I weeded my bookcase of spiritual writings recently. It is a collection of essays and sermons thrown together for the sake of making a book. Not my most favorite thing. But I hadn't read it.
It proved to be a path into the many ways he has influenced my faith. By the time I woke up 30 hours into the retreat, I realized that I only had three chapters left. It made sense ~ one for that morning and one each for the last two mornings of the retreat. I could not have planned it better.
As I look back at the book, I see that the last essay I read, before I woke up feeling the silence, had ended with this paragraph. And this may be the coolest thing ever ~
Let us instead tell a story which is the story about every one of us, It is a story about a pig, and a fox, and an ass under his holy and appalling burden. It is the story about a mouth pushed crooked, about a voice breaking. Let the rest be Christ's silence.
Wernersville Tree ~ about to step inside |
I just learned about this beech tree a couple of years ago, having spent many happy hours up a tree overlooking the fields.
ReplyDeleteIt sounds as if you had a silent companion, who yet had words for you in this retreat. Mysterious grace!
Michelle ~ I saw a woman climb into it last spring. The photos from inside the tree are still coming. Thanks for the card!
Deletemay there always be a tree...
ReplyDeleteNance ~ yes indeed. One I loved at the center took ill and was taken down.
DeleteI'm glad you found your "cone of certainty" in the silence. That is one massive tree! When hubby and I took a walk yesterday morning, we stopped to hug a favorite, very old live oak along the way. Every time a storm approaches, we get nervous about whether it will survive another one. Hurricane Ivan took a toll on it, but it still hangs in there.
ReplyDeleteWalker ~ I guess I can say with some certainty that I dig trees. ;')
Delete