Our deepest calling is to grow into our own authentic selfhood, whether or not it conforms to some image of who we ought to be.  
Parker Palmer, Let Your Life Speak

Friday, July 25, 2008

On retreat

With somewhat confused and reluctant silence I entered into this space of retreat, but I leave with a widening vision of the joy that might be found in silence.  Though defined as absence of sound, I have learned that silence is anything but empty and yet at the same time wearing the habit of silence can in all of its fullness create space- to understand, to appreciate, to listen (of course), to observe.  I'm getting philosophical I know, a territory in which I don't feel quite prepared for what might emerge from this state of mind, but adventuring into the mystery of who I am as a created, named, and called being is what I've been doing for the last three days so I embrace this opportunity to explore.  



Praying through scripture has been my task during this directed spiritual retreat.  Though I believe every entry of this blog has journeyed in and out of my faith reading such a full disclosure of this faith might not be something you have come to expect from this blog.  Indeed, I have a faith tradition that is full, inclusive, marked by love, and dependent on reflecting justice in word and deed.  I have come to my faith through a rich heritage of believing people and actually part of my family leads this retreat center in rural Georgia, Green Bough House of Prayer in Scott, GA.  

I was reminded during retreat of just how extensive the root system of my faith legacy is with the mention of Grandpa Ches, my great-great-great grandfather.  Alexander Chesnut Flanders was a farmer, a captain in the Confederate Army, a local pastor, and as I found out over the retreat a man of great passion and fiery spirit.  Grandpa Ches was know to preach with great fervor and when called for by a stubborn mule or disobedient pigs curse a blue streak.  He was also known to pray with great faithfulness for the "seeds of his loins," in other words me.  (smile) His prayers and the confidence of such an awesome legacy have encouraged many generations of active lay members, workers of social justice, and ordained ministers.  I feel so much that confidence of being his legacy of faith.  

Back to the sound of silence...  The silence of this retreat at Green Bough has pervaded all aspects of habitual living for these few days.  Silence rising to greet the morning, silence in community around the table for lunch and dinner feasts, silence in worship, and silence 
in retiring at night.  Even after practicing silence for these few days I may understand it better, but I'm not sure that I am any better at it... we shall see.  Most of the time it was the enthusiastic joy in my surrounding or curiosity that made me want to shout aloud or break silence with a multitude of questions.  As I mentioned at the beginning, my discovery of the joy of silence is an expanding horizon.  

One practice in silence was particularly enlightening for me... the silence of the table.  Silence at meals was awkward at first... where does one look, how does one eat without talking or my great standby, reading.  I do think I understand this practice a little better now.  By remaining silent at a communal meal, one is blessed with the opportunity to contemplate all that the meal entails... the people around the table yes, but more organically the food that is there.  I have never tasted better food that at the silent table!  Because I wasn't distracted by conversation, I felt like I was tasting fruit and vegetables and breads for the first time.  I guess my discovery of the pleasures of silent meals hints at what the real purpose of practicing silence is all about... contemplation of the ordinary, acknowledgment of the universal abundance in the simplicity of that which comes from the earth.  Each meal ended with a reading of some kind, at lunch the daily witness of the life of a saint and at dinner a poem.  As one voice broke the silence of our meal, my ears seemed more alive to hear the wisdom and enlightenment found in these words.  

Yes, the silence and prayerful nature of this time has been good for me.  I have discovered more about my faith heritage and so much more about myself.  Unraveling the mystery of who I am is a partnership with my journey toward unraveling the mystery of the One who creates, redeems, and sustains.  More reflection of this time will come I am sure, but for now I am...

Just, Margaret

1 comments:

Dori said...

I hope that your retreat is going well. Thanks for adding me to your list of favorites. I have added you to my list too.