Retreat thoughts

Retreat Day 10/26/2005

Scripture Meditation: Matthew 14:23B-14:33

When evening came, he was there alone, but by this time the boat, battered by the waves, was far from the land, for the wind was against them. And early in the morning, he came walking toward them on the sea. But when the disciples saw him walking on the sea, they were terrified say, “It is a ghost!” And then they cried out in fear. But immediately Jesus spoke to them and said, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.” Peter answered him, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” He said, “Come.” So Peter got out of the boat, started walking on the water and came toward Jesus. But when he noticed the strong wind, he became frightened, and beginning to sink, he cried out, “Lord, save me!” Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him, saying to him, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?” When they got into the boat, the wind ceased.

This passage has always meant a great deal to me. It is an invitation to risk, an invitation to try the unknown, and most importantly, this is an invitation to trust in the seemingly impossible, the countercultural, the things that society says can’t be done, shouldn’t be done or aren’t acceptable to the status quo. When the winds of pressure are blowing and threatening to derail us or to knock us off this course, it is this simple and strong reassurance that we can do whatever we set out to do even if it looks like it will take a miracle to be accomplished successfully.

Furthermore, it is an invitation to action. What caused Peter to speak up when he saw Jesus? Weren’t there other people in the boat who were just as shocked to see their friend walking on the wind whipped water? Did anyone else want to say anything? What held them back? What stirred in Peter’s heart to cause him to physically take action and climb out of the safety of the boat and go into the unknown territory of walking on water? Was there a part of Peter that was telling him that he was crazy? Was there a part of Peter that accessed a realm that was previously unknown that caused his spirit to knock wildly inside his chest as his feet made contact with the water? Was it because his friend was beckoning him? Was it just the simple word, “come”? Had he stopped thinking of all the risks and dangers? Was he just carried along by the presence of his teacher who was calling him?

Within this action filled invitation, there is the reassuring immediacy of the spirit and companionship of Jesus who comes to us when we are in the midst of trouble and sinking due to whatever we are being bogged down with, be it worry, fear, insecurity, doubt or societal pressure that can attack us as we walk boldly along these countercultural paths. To me, there is an image of a strong and sturdy hand being extended immediately in support, in faith and in an effort to support us in this journey. There is someone next to us whom we can cling to, someone we can lean on, someone to support us when we feel as if we are going under. Besides the physical support, which for me, is coming in the form of my new community and family and friends who are with me in this period of discernment and postulancy, there is also a spiritual reassurance, a comfort to my heart that all it takes is trust, a simple trust and a willingness to grab onto what is being extended to us.

Today is my first retreat day; each month everyone gets a day to retreat from the official community schedule to rest, relax and be quiet with God.I was asked to select a scripture passage that I was to use during an Ignatian imaginative meditation.. Originally, I wanted to do the tried and true story of the Prodigal Son but something in me caused me to find the Peter walking on water story. Somehow it just seemed to fit my situation as I try to discern where I am supposed to be and to trust in the process.

This got me thinking about when my friends and I were talking about what our Philip Pullman inspired daemons or soul counterparts would look like. Instantly I thought of the disciple Peter and his complete humanity, his doubt, his impulsiveness, his determination, his frailty, his fear and his great willingness to trust. On a retreat that changed my life, a good friend of mine—who was the lay director of the Covenant II process and one of my favorite people—was talking about the goofball-ness of Peter. When she said that, I began to see Peter in a new light, in a way that was attractive to me, a way that seemed human. It endeared Peter to my heart. Now, what animal to match it with? Well, that was easy, it is my cat named Orange. Orange is a 22 lb orange boy cat who matches the spirit of Peter. Orange is easy going at times; Orange is loving; Orange is trusting; Orange is fiercely loyal; Orange would go anywhere I went; Orange would wait for me; Orange is not afraid to risk and explore as long he knew that I was there to pick him up or to save him. So my daemon is an orange cat named Peter. I’m looking at a picture of him as I type this and I’m so happy that he was a part of my life. I miss him so. He was my prayer cat. Each morning as I did my centering prayer before work, he would jump in my lap, curl up and purr and purr and purr. Actually, whenever I prayed Orange was there, even if a sudden movement would cause him to get up—he always came back, eager to not miss anything.

As I write up this meditative experience, I have just turned thirty years old. I’ve been living in a religious community for 3 weeks, after what seems a lifetime of searching for this place. This passage is significant for me since my life had reached a place where it was time to stay in the boat or get out and trust the process and explore. Sure, I could have stayed in the boat and been ok but perhaps I’d never be completely satisfied or feel complete. But, there was something in my spirit that responded to the irresistible call of “come”—a simple word that gave me such opportunity and permission to swing my legs over the side of my boat and walk away from the old—not forgetting the old but being open to new possibilities and experiences. It is permission to be willing and vulnerable as well as an exercise in growth and openness; all the while trusting that if a fall happens, and they will, that I’ll be supported on all sides. While other friends and family members saw risks and choppy water, I saw an opportunity that couldn’t be missed; I saw my friend and wanted to be with Him.

I know that by trusting in this call, by reaching out for that steady hand, as the prayer book reassures, I “will never hope in vain.” Just as a bird doesn’t think about how her wings are moving up and down against the wind, she is responding to the situation with all her being and floating on the supportive wind, I too am learning to just be present in the moment, to let go of the analysis which is doubt’s way of sneaking in and to respond with all of who I am to this experience of answering the loving invitation of “come”. I don’t have to be perfect. I can fall down. I don’t have to be the best. I don’t have to believe every single second of the journey. I just have to get moving because I could think about it forever and never ever take any action. Thinking is easy as it doesn’t require much. Action, however, is another story as it asks all of who I am to take a gigantic risk and trust in the unknown.

Love,
Monk_1975