Retreat Diary Day 2 Entry 1

Day two: Stop running away

So…for those who think that going on retreat is another holiday: I was in Church ready for Mattins at 6:45 today: less “O Lord, open my lips” and more “O Lord, open my eyes”. This was followed by a lovely breakfast of porridge and some toast. Breakfast is in silence as the Greater Silence is observed here until 9 in the morning. Many people bring books to read with them as they have breakfast. I had St Augustine’s Confessions with me. I am enjoying this book. I find it quite compelling and enjoy the intensity and earnestness of his faith.

I think I may then have fallen asleep. I often spend the first day or two of retreat asleep. Sometimes it is only when you stop that you realise how tired you are and I have not been on retreat for three years. I then went into the Church to pray the Rosary, meditating on the Sorrowful Mysteries, and praying for my own sense of vocation and for God’s guidance in my vocation and ministry.

Then there was Midday Prayer and Mass. (I have a feeling they read yesterday’s readings by mistake but it meant I was blessed again by the verse that blessed me yesterday.) I had quite a lot to eat at lunch and so I ended up snoozing again for a lot longer than I intended. I guess sometimes the Lord does give his beloved sleep! Had a cup of tea and chat with some other guests and brethren of the community, then Evening Prayer and Supper. After Supper, I met with my Spiritual Director and Confessor (the same person).

I made my confession, which was long overdue. It has been nearly three years since my last confession. I suppose that I used COVID as an excuse not to come here to make my confession and then I just kept putting it off and off (in itself part of the confession).

There were some things that have been hanging over me for a while now and so it was lovely to be able to let them go. Making one’s confession is not always an easy thing and it is sometimes something that we run away from, perhaps because we are so ashamed or embarrassed to let other people know our deepest, darkest secrets. Or we tell ourselves that we do not need to do it.

I suppose that, in a sense and theologically, we don’t need to make a confession for God to forgive us and yet I find that it is a sacrament so precious and so beautiful. It is the only way I know of being able to let go of all the rubbish that can build up in our hearts and minds. When I arrived here, I went to the Church to find that there was some scaffolding in the Church as work is being carried out. At first I bemoaned this situation but as I thought I realised that this is a necessary part of looking after our sacred spaces. Then it occurred to me that this was what is going on in my heart: it is full of chaos and clutter and it needs lots of work, lots of healing.

Confession is the most powerful way I know of that work being carried out. It is not always pleasant or easy but when it is done and absolution is pronounced, the mess, the hurt, the damage is taken away. It has been said by many people many times but all sin leaves a mark. We might try to pretend that it doesn’t matter and that we are “only human” and shouldn’t feel too bad but this is not actually helpful. We are all, if we are honest, sometimes haunted by the guilt or shame of some mistake or another. As a priest, it is often the greatest joy to pronounce absolution when somebody has made a confession and see that person walk away like new. It is not about guilt or shame: it is about the healing of our hearts and being set free from the things that so often enchain us.

This was followed by a lovely chat with my Spiritual Director as we sat in the gardens. We talked a lot about a sense of belonging. I have said for years that the Community of the Resurrection feels like home and this is still true. A while ago, I began the process of becoming an Oblate of the Community—somebody who lives outside of the community but lives under vows. I began a probationary year to live this way before making vows. But then I ran away from it and then lockdown etc. happened. I think I will be having this conversation again.

I have not felt this comfortable or “at home” since the last time I was here almost three years ago. I can’t help feeling that the Lord may be trying to tell me something here.