Monastery/Seven (Community)

[This is the seventh (and last) installment of a series about my experience retreating at St. Andrew's Abbey in Valyermo, California, June 15-19. This retreat was part of one of my graduate school classes titled "Leadership & Community."]

Dear friends,

I have been putting off writing this post for a while because I think, in part, it is difficult to describe the kind of community I experienced at St. Andrew's Abbey. The community was threefold: There was the community I observed among the monks (and was partially invited into as a guest); there was the community I experienced among my classmates, my professor and me; and then there was the community I experienced between myself and the Lord.

Each night before falling asleep I made sure to write down my thoughts and observations from that day. I knew that I didn't want to lose this valuable information. Looking back at my journal, I made at least one comment about community each night, so I would like to share my thoughts with you:

Monday
Even though we are out in a desert, the grounds are very lush. They remind me of the juxtaposition of this walk with Christ: lonely yet in community, dry but filled, wandering but not lost, dead but alive.

I feel drawn, invited, and loved as I walk through this journey.

Tuesday
Everyone here is on a journey. At least that's the feeling I get.

My classmates and I have had intriguing discussions regarding community, leadership, theology, life, organizations, and spirituality.

There is a lot of pain and suffering no matter who you are.

Wednesday
Today my class went on a hike. Though the hike was relatively short, we stopped many times to talk, engage in rich conversation, and point out the various rock formations. At first, I was annoyed that we stopped so often because I preferred to walk and talk in order to get to the bottom to where the creek flowed. But after the second or third time of stopping, something in me shifted. My fear that we wouldn't stay on schedule, that we would just be idle, went away. In its place, came peace and contentment. And I began to enjoy my companions. Perhaps the greater peace had something to do with having to stop and look others in the eye. We stopped to come up with creative interpretations of rock formations, to carry out a conversation, or to take a picture. Life holds a pattern, a rhythm, that we cannot deny. For to deny it would deny ourselves. Walk, stop, talk, look, talk, walk. There are times for work, times for play, and times for social intimacy.

The community I am experiencing among my peers is unreal. Our conversations have been rich, intimate, loving, encouraging, and respectful.

Thursday
The class feels like it is the culmination of all my studies, personal journey in the last year, life, and organizational experiences. I feel like I am understanding community in a whole new way.

******

Before the class officially ended last week, my professor, Dr. John Horsman, wrote to us one last note. He wrote:

One thing I know is that the family/community is the crucible where we first learn and grow and are formed; organized community is also a crucible where we can learn and grow. Our task I think is to learn to create in our own environment a community environment where learning-healing and transformation can occur - this is what Benedict was trying to do. This can best be done when the crucible is permeated with love.

******

I mentioned earlier this week that I am intrigued by the relationship between physical space and organizational life. Christopher Alexander says this, "To produce this life, we must first see how life springs from wholeness, and indeed how life is wholeness. Wholeness exists all around us, and life springs from it. Every situation we are in, even the most mundane, has the capacity for life in it" (The Nature of Order: The phenomenon of life (Book One), p. 55). Physical space, then, is a tool to create, nurture, and transform a community.

I happened to be reading a back issue of Dwell magazine last night (thanks to a friend who has an extensive library of these fun reads), and in this particular issue was a story about the design and construction of a modern community and residential building for the 10 Jesuits who live on the campus of Brophy College Preparatory in Phoenix. The architects designed three buildings to better reflect the Jesuits' values and give them a space entirely unlike their old dormitory. Namely, the Jesuits desired to cut the noise down, limit the amount of running around they had to do, get more privacy, and have a closer-knit community among them. As a solution, the architects cut down on the clutter and replaced the furniture to reflect the Jesuits' vow of poverty, added secluded courtyards and water features, and set the buildings to face each other.

"For the first time in my life, I've become really aware of how the space in which we live and what we see every day can have an impact on our lives and how we relate to each other," priest Michael Gilson said (Dwell Magazine, March 2004, pp. 49-52).

******

More than a few elderly monks live in the St. Andrew's Abbey community, including one who is 100 years old who looked like he was asleep three-quarters of the time, and another one living in a nursing home. The Abbot told us that the younger, more able monks take care of the elderly monks on the monastery grounds until they require meals to be taken to their room. The monk living in a nursing home is not forgotten, however - the brothers visit him a lot and the 100-year-old monk even says Mass at the home once a week.

Since I have been rather ill, this situation greatly intrigued me. I think you really know who your community is at the point of illness, trauma, loss, or other stressful situations because it takes others' sacrifice of their time, money, energy, and other resources without any guarantee of payback. I have a full heart of gratitude for all those who have made sacrifices to see me get well; I would not be here without this community.

******

Community is one of the hardest things in life to accomplish. Inevitably, communities will yield fights, dissensions, and bitterness, and good communities will create the space to respond and hopefully resolve conflict in such a way that all are heard and God is honored. Notice I said that this is good community. Because no community is perfect. But a community can be successful when the people give up their individual rights for the sake of the whole.

This is humility.

A.