June 26:
I spent 4 days in June at a monastic retreat: the Dallas Benedictine Experience. This event is held in four locations each year; the Dallas event was the 16th annual.
It was, quite simply, amazing.
I was a bit nervous going into it. I am happy to be in silence, and I am happy to be without TV. Eschewing social media might be more difficult. But being in community, in silence, for four days with a group I didn't know? Hmm. Eating in silence? Huh. (I have some issues about eating in front of people I don't know).
It was very tightly scheduled, and rather formal. Four worship times per day (Lauds, Sext, Vespers, Compline.) Two class sessions per day, plus one hour for Q&A. Conversation prohibited except in the classroom.
What I was delighted to find was that in the discipline was freedom. This is not an original concept, but new for me to experience in this way. I took long naps on each of the two "full" days we were there, when we were given time to rest, pray, read, etc. NAPS. Because I could. Because intentionality can be tiring. Because eating in silence was, indeed, a little stressful to me.
We processed to meals and to worship in a prescribed way, chanting a litany. The procession was led by a crucifer (me in this pic) and then by someone bearing an icon of Christ.
Our worship was antiphonal chanting of Psalms, along with other prayers. We had homilies each morning by Fr. Daniel Forsythe, of St. Basil the Great Byzantine Catholic Church in Irving. His words were perhaps the most approachable, hearable, to me at least, of any preacher I know besides Amy Haynie.
I had paid a bit extra to have a single room (which had 4 beds in it!) so I really luxuriated in that private space. I always need solitary time.
July 14
I'm not sure why it's taken me so long to complete this post, except that there's really no way to put the experience into words. It was a liminal time, and better minds than mine have struggled with describing such things.
Some things I took away: A reminder that Psalms can be chanted at any time, internally (or out loud, in the car!) I have a version of Psalm 95 in my mind from my childhood, with language from the 1928 prayerbook, that I sing often if I need comfort or calm.
I have a great love and respect for St. Benedict and his Rule. I continue to study it and it speaks much to me. I am also reading The Cloud of Unknowing, which we discussed in class.
The group assembled for a photo on the first night, at which time we did not know one another. Now I have that photo as the wallpaper on my desktop. It is amazing to me how precious each face is, how bonded I feel to those people. Some of them, I do not know their names, because we didn't have nametags, but as St. Benedict said, "Each one's name is Christ." Just being together with them for that experience, mostly in silence, was transformative.
Daughters of the King cross and St. Benedict medal
