grayscale

The Communauté de Grandchamp prays in a converted barn.

I had an appointment this morning, which meant I wasn't home for my 10:00 prayer time, so I decided to try it in situ, first outside waiting for the Landesmuseum to open and then - when a full class of third graders streamed out of the museum and invaded my meditation spot a.k.a. park bench to have their morning snack - sitting at my favorite workplace at the museum library. I was watching some little birds hop up and down the bare branches of the tree outside and musing... so cool and how privileged am I? and could it possibly be that this is what I'm *supposed* to be doing???

The appointment was my second and final consultation at the Laufbahnzentrum, a kind of guidance counseling center for the city, which exists mostly for the kids trying to make their way through the complicated flowchart that is the Swiss education / career system, but they also have a program for elderly people like me who are trying to figure out what to do with what remains of their working lives. I was lucky to get paired with a coach who, in addition to dispensing the required practical advice, also managed to be complimentary and encouraging in a way that didn't feel forced or condescending (as it so often does, to me, which I do realize could well be me and not "them"). She kept referring to my "backpack" - I guess in English we'd say "toolkit" - which contains all my life experiences and abilities, and at this point in my life does indeed have some stuff in it. And said that just because my life might go new direction doesn't mean I need to toss the whole thing out and start collecting from zero. This hit a nerve; she's right of course, and I think this was something I was subconsciously anxious about. The practical result of our two meetings is that I'm supposed to be looking into doing an apprenticeship as a cook, a plan B in case the whole church thing doesn't work out, which on the one hand seems crazy and on the other...definitely has some arguments to recommend it. So, maybe?

In other news, I spent the weekend at a retreat with some GCL folks, offered in lieu of the group's traditional day-long Advent meeting. It took place at the Communauté de Grandchamp, the female and Swiss counterpart to the male and French community of Taizé. It was a silent retreat (should I have known this? I didn't.) with silent meals with the community, silent listening to the nuns singing their liturgies four times a day, silent meditation sessions with our group, and silent walks along the river toward Lake Neuchâtel. 

This could have been relaxing. But. I read a tip last week that if you set your phone to black-and-white mode, it will be more boring to your brain and you'll spend less time looking at it. Worth a try, I thought. And somewhere between not being able to see the colors on my photos and, the aggressively gray weather we've been having, and all that time in my own head (one is supposed to encounter Jesus in there; this has yet to work for me) I got to feeling like the color was draining out of my life completely. Heavy, and not in a good way.

But I'm not at at all sad I went. How crazy is it to even get opportunities like this? The thing I'm taking home from the retreat is something our retreat director, Sr. Marie-Elizabeth, said at the end. This is not in fact verbatim, and of course it was in French and/or German, but for the purposes of this discussion let's say it's a direct quote.

You have to have priorities. And people assume that here I'm going to say "the highest priority is being present with the Lord!" No. First priority, get enough sleep. Second priority, take care of your body. Meditation, in our community, comes in third - critically important, for sure, but terribly difficult without sound mental and physical health. Then fourth: at least once a day you should spend time with another person in an entirely non-transactional way. And fifth, work. And whatever you're doing, try to stay receptive: hear, see, smell, taste, feel, sense what the people and the world around you are offering, aside from and beyond the purposes you've already assigned to them.

Sound advice. And I think not a thousand miles away from what Jung was getting at in my last post. And if I were in charge I'd make a parallel list for my church community. People assume that our highest priority should be our service to the world: liturgy, religious education, access to salvation. But imho, the most important person in the church is the not the priest, it's the custodian. Our first (at least financial) priority should be the care of our physical space, with respect for those we inherited it from and hospitality towards those who are using it now and will use it in the future. Second comes building relationships with and caring for each other, not as potential task-doers but as whole people. Perpetuating our religious traditions, however important, comes third. And whatever we're up to, we must also endeavor as a community to stay receptive: on the lookout for God's kingdom, not as we assume it will appear but however and wherever it breaks into this gray and weary world.

Thank you for coming to my Advent sermon.