The apostles gathered around Jesus, and told him all that they had done and taught. He said to them, “Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while.” For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat. (Mark 6:30-31, NRSV)
The above passage comes to us from the Gospel according to St. Mark. It occurs immediately after we are told of the death of John the Baptist and immediately before Jesus feeds the five thousand. Certainly, I have a familiarity with both of those stories. John the Baptist, after all, is one of my favorite saints. If we follow John’s example, then we know we can follow Jesus and lead others toward him by being ourselves and not compromising who we are, just like John did. And everyone knows the story of Jesus feeding the multitudes. Although the specifics vary, that story appears in all four gospels. We know that Jesus fed a whole lot of people by multiplying the loaves of bread and the fishes. And while some skeptics say that everyone likely got a small piece of bread and a small bite of fish, and the miracle was actually that thousands of people shared small bites of food, then that really isn’t much of a miracle, is it? The miracle, the piece beyond our understanding, is that Jesus actually multiplied the fish and the bread so there was enough for everyone to be filled. But that’s a topic for another time. Today I want to focus on the passage from chapter 6, verses 30 and 31. After spending some time teaching his disciples, Jesus told them to find a quiet spot and to rest. Until this week, I had never noticed those verses. I likely had read them dozens of times but paid no attention to them. And yet, those were immensely important instructions Jesus gave to his disciples because they were ready for what he was going to ask them to do next. They are instructions he wants us to follow, too.
The vows I took when I was ordained a priest include promises to take time for continued learning, growth, and renewal. While these activities certainly enhance my life, the true reason clergy make these vows is to benefit you, the people we shepherd. How so? Well, if I’m in a good place spiritually, emotionally, and physically, then I can be in a position to help you to be your best self. It doesn’t do much good for me to tell you that you ought to have a strong spiritual life if I don’t have one myself. So it is in your best interest for me to make good on my ordination vows, including time for learning, growth, and renewal. And this week, for the very first time in my life, I am working on those areas and more during a silent retreat.
As I write this, I am sitting in my room at the Sacred Heart Jesuit Retreat Center near Denver, Colorado. The room is small. Maybe 12 feet by 12 feet. There is only enough room for a bed, a chair, a desk, a nightstand, a small dresser, and a small sink. The shared restroom is down the hall. And everywhere on campus, there are signs reminding retreatants of the importance of maintaining silence. As the monastics say, silence is the gift we give to each other. Now, full disclosure here: I did not realize this was a silent retreat when I booked it. I knew I would meet daily with a spiritual director (more on that later), and I knew that I would have the opportunity to attend Eucharist services daily, but I did not know that those were the only two times during the day that I would be permitted to break the silence. Had I realized it was a silent retreat, I almost certainly would have booked something else. However, my lack of attention to detail turned out to be a true blessing (for a pleasant change!). Like the disciples in the gospel passage, I am finding tremendous value in the silence and rest.
I arrived here with some anxiety. “How am I going to stay silent?” I wondered. Let’s be honest. I’m kind of a bull in a china closet. I’m clumsy, talkative, and restless much of the time. I’m also the kind of guy who makes jokes under his breath an inopportune times so that others find themselves laughing inappropriately while I face none of the consequences. I think I have a permanent bruise on my side from being jabbed by elbows when I’ve made people laugh when they shouldn’t have been laughing. How am I going to be quiet for five days? Won’t I be bored?
I arrived later than I had hoped. My flight was delayed several hours and then I had to fight with Denver traffic. I hadn’t driven through Denver in something like 20 years and I didn’t know the freeway layout. Even with GPS, I missed a few turns. I arrived when virtually no one was around, and I found a letter on a bulletin board with my name on it. It told me my room number and gave me some emergency phone numbers if I should need anything. Other than those instructions, I was pretty well on my own. Great. Now what am I going to do?
Not quite ready to settle in for the evening, I found the library. I grabbed a couple of books that looked like they might be helpful. Then, I made my way back to my small room. As I unpacked and changed into pajamas, I noticed I was becoming acutely aware of my surroundings. I was aware in a way I hadn’t recognized before. Every movement I made brought with it some kind of sound. Was I being too noisy? Am I going to disturb someone? But as I took out one of the library books and settled into my chair to read it, I noticed my senses were becoming heightened. Not just my sense of hearing, which allowed me to recognize the sound of someone coughing in the hallway or someone else running the sink in the restroom. But all my senses. I noticed I could feel the cold draft wafting in from the cracked open window. I noticed the sound of the railway trains that frequent this part of Colorado. I noticed the stars in the sky that seemed more numerous because I’m away from the city lights. I noticed the wildlife outside my window. And I noticed the presence of Jesus. He didn’t seem to be saying anything to me, but I got the sense that he wanted me to know that he was here with me. I was not alone in my silence. Instead, I was here with the Lord.
The retreat house offers spiritual direction for anyone who wishes to use that service. To be very honest with you, I have tried spiritual direction in the past and I have not found it helpful. But because spiritual direction is highly recommended by the Jesuits, and Ignatian spirituality has a slightly different approach to spiritual direction, I decided to give it another shot. While there are some touch points between spiritual direction and pastoral care, they are not exactly the same thing. A spiritual director is trained to ask leading questions and then to follow up with other questions based on the answers. The spiritual director is supposed to listen for underlying ways that the directee (in this case, me) is describing their relationship with God. There really shouldn’t be any judgment. The director isn’t there to act as a therapist or a pastor. The director’s job is to listen. And my spiritual director here has done a fantastic job of that.
I asked her what I’m supposed to do while I’m here. In all my previous retreats, activities and liturgies have been planned. While there has always been some down time, the schedule has been full for those of us who, like me, prefer to spend time with others. “There’s no right or wrong way to be on retreat,” she told me. “Some people like to be here and go for hikes. Others like to read. It’s your time. You get to just be here and get out of it what you need.” And what she told me wasn’t surprising. I could have told you that myself. The problem is, I don’t know how honest I would have been if I were telling myself the same thing. Like many of us, I tend to commit the sin of holding myself to a “higher standard” than I hold others to. It might be summed up like this: “It’s ok for thee, but not for me!” Of course I want you to have a meaningful retreat that gives you exactly what you need. But I’m so busy that I couldn’t possibly take that time for myself! Can you hear that tiny violin playing?
So here I was. In Colorado. With no agenda. The only thing on my “schedule” was another meeting with her the next day. So what did I do? Whatever felt right. I went for a walk. I took a nap. I prayed. I read a little more. I wrote a whole lot. I prayed again. I enjoyed the meals that were served, and I allowed myself to simply be. I haven’t responded to emails or social media posts. I haven’t received any phone calls or texts (except, of course, from my wife). I just did what it felt like I needed to do at the time. And I found it tremendously freeing.
In today’s meeting, my spiritual director told me she noticed that by doing what it felt like I needed to do, I was listing to invitations from Jesus. And when I decided to go along with those nudges, then I was telling him yes. That was such an affirmation! And it answered my question of why I needed to be at this place at this time. It can be easy to get caught up in the everyday hustle and bustle of the world and to ignore the invitations of Jesus in our lives. Through this retreat, and by spending time in silence, I have been able to connect to that relationship with Jesus. It wasn’t something that was missing, exactly. It was simply something I hadn’t been paying attention to in the way that I would like. I invite you to try to do something similar. I understand that priests have expectations placed on us that don’t work terribly well with the schedule of a member of the laity. You may or may not be in a position to take a week away for a silent retreat at a formal retreat house. But that doesn’t mean you can’t have some time for yourself with God. It may not be part of your career expectations like it is for me, but that doesn’t mean you can’t benefit from some one-on-one time with Jesus.
During seminary, candidates for holy orders are taught a whole lot of things. We’re taught about all the ways we’re supposed to stir things up and to show off how smart we are. But I haven’t found that to be a useful tool. Maybe it’s because I’m not really that smart. But what I have noticed, post seminary, is that they did not teach us the importance of permission granting. Through mentors (and through trial and error), I have discovered that ordination does give me a certain degree of authority. Whether I like it or not, people come to me to seek guidance. And sometimes it seems like they’re seeking guidance to do something that seems perfectly reasonable. “Can I wear shorts to church since it’s 112 degrees today?” And when the request is something like that, something that helps that person to be their best self, then the only correct answer is “absolutely!” Do you feel like you’re at your best when you’re wearing shorts on a hot day? Then please, wear shorts! “Is it ok if I like to pray the Hail Mary?” Yes! Please pray the Hail Mary if that brings you closer to God! That’s the kind of permission granting I frequently do, and it seems to put people at ease.
So please accept this as permission (and encouragement!) from your priest to take some time for yourself with Jesus. Take some time in silence. Try it out. Don’t be a wimp like me. Actually do it. And let yourself do what you need to do. Listen for the voice of Jesus. Is Jesus telling you he wants to go on a walk with you? Then maybe it would be a good idea to say yes. Is he telling you he wants you to read the latest book by your favorite author? Then by all means, do it! Is he telling you he wants you to buy that souped up sports car? Well, you’d better run that one by your spouse first just to be sure. But please, accept my permission. Do something for yourself. Need a note for your boss? Let me know and I’ll gladly write one for you! It can say something like this: “This person has a prescription to skip work in order to spend time with Jesus today. Love, Fr. Tim.”
Silence is the gift we give to one another. I am grateful for the gift of silence that has been extended to me by the Jesuits, the staff, and the other retreatants this week. I am keeping you all in prayer as I complete this retreat, and I am excited to return to you as we begin our Advent journey together this weekend. Wait a minute. What’s that sound? Oh yeah. It’s silence. And it’s beautiful. Take some time to enjoy something beautiful. Thank you for your prayers and thank you for receiving the permission I offer to you.