Saint Mary

Following a 3 day whirlwind tour of DC with my older daughter's 8th grade class, I headed to Baltimore to visit my dear friend Mary. As I step into her world, I am flooded with memories of living in a poor neighborhood in which I had a woman who was constantly fighting with her boyfriend in the row house on one side and a family in which I could hear the children being abused in the row house on the other side. I lived in that house for 10 years trying to be a presence of hope in a challenging situation. Then I burned out. I will never forget the day I sat on my back step looking at the garbage in the yard next to me, smoking a cigarette and thinking "I can't do this anymore". It was then that the journey toward moving to Seattle started. My close friend Mary has stayed. Of course, I would never have expected her to move as she runs a system of homeless shelters that she started in 1978. Project PLASE now houses hundreds of homeless from the mentally disabled for whom PLASE was started to Aids patients who have no place to live. Mary works constantly, always trying to raise money in a decidely unfriendly environment. She still lives in the home she purchased more than 30 years ago in west Baltimore in a neighborhood that is a couple of blocks from the area where season one of "The Wire" (television series about drug dealing and homicide) was filmed. In one of our conversations, Mary was once again bemoaning the fact that she was yet to see "The Wire". I told her that she lives in the midst of "The Wire" so there was no need to watch it. This was confirmed one morning during breakfast as I watched young men in the vacant lot behind Mary's small urban yard. Every time we sat at her table there was a fair amount of activity in this space. I thought "How terrific. They must be working on an urban garden." I finally asked Mary what these guys were doing. She casually said "Oh, there's a lot of drug dealing that goes on back there." I thought to myself about how I have definitely lost my street smarts. Mary is amazing. Despite the fact that she has lived among the poor and, in this case, dangerous, for all this time, she has never had anything happen to her. Her shelters are mostly in poor areas. She is a holy woman who attends daily mass and has worked on behalf of the poor and neglected her entire adult life. She is one of the most content people I know. Sharing her friendship is a gift and a blessing. She is a saint.

Belonging and Behaving

Having finished Diana Butler Bass' book Christianity After Religion, I am struck by her claim that the majority of people are drawn to religious communities in which belonging and behaving are the top priorities. By that, she means, churches in which people value each other in a deep and meaningful way. In these communities, people do not attempt to wear masks and conceal what is going on in their hearts and lives.

The behaving part has to do with the community's involvement in significant works of service.

What people actually believe is at the bottom of the list. This is true of all religious communities whether they are Christian, Jewish, Muslim or anything else. In fact, the religious communities that do not honor and respect other traditions are in the decline.

She, of course, is talking about Western civilization. This is something I have certainly observed in my conversations with people both in and out of religious communities. The way people treat each other is vastly more important than the details of any belief system. Churches that do not offer opportunities for community service have little chance of surviving.

This 'n That

I have been reading as much as possible which has been absolutely wonderful.  Yesterday I took a break from my Benedictine rhythm of work, prayer and study and went to see the movie Bully.  It was a disturbing movie but in the end hopeful.  It is one of those important movies, certainly not entertaining but still one I would highly encourage people to see.  

After the movie, I felt very unsettled and so while my daughter was involved in something near the Riley Skate Park in Farmington Hills, I went and sat at the park and watched kids skateboard while I read.  It was a healing experience as there were all kinds of kids there - from elementary age to young adult, several different races as well as those with a ton of tattoos to those who looked as though they had on a school uniform.  Everyone got along, lots of good skateboarding.  It was nice.

The daily office readings have been full of landscape images.  I am seeing them through an entirely different lens having finished The Solace of Fierce Landscapes.  I also finished Diana Butler Bass' new book Christianity After Religion, another enlightening book.  She does a great job of interpreting the whole spiritual but not religious movement that has been afoot for many years.  She does an in-depth analysis of the current spiritual awakening.

When it comes to religion, the Great Turning is less of a turn toward something completely new and unknown; it is more of a Great Returning to an ancient understanding, of finding a forgotten path of wonder and awe through the wilderness of human chaos and change.  p. 97

Being a Benedictine at Home

Of all of the monastic traditions, that of the Benedictines has always held the most appeal for me.  It is the combination of prayer, study and work that has captured my heart.  During the past week since being home from New Mexico, I have moved into a more regular rhythm of that life.  The most significant change from that of my life when I am working full-time is that of reading a great deal  more than I am able to do when working at church.  This has been a wonderful gift.

Last night I finished Belden Lane's The Solace of Fierce Landscapes.  This was one of the best books on spirituality I have read in years.  Books such as this are a rare find for those of us who have had profound experiences of God in the wilderness.  Now I have begun Diana Butler Bass' new book Christianity after Religion.  This is an entirely different read as it explores what has been happening in the American religious landscape over the past 30 years.  It is both challenging and exciting.

Prayer and scripture reading are a significant part of my day; it is wonderful to have the luxury of not being on a time schedule with these sacred acts.   My heart is calming.

Planting in the Right Place

For years I have tried to grow cilantro.  I have planted plants which have not survived being transplanted and then tried growing it from seeds.  The efforts have been met with little success.

Last year toward the end of the summer, I noticed cilantro growing under the rose bushes.  How did it get here?  Perhaps we threw one of the dead plants in that direction at some point.  This particular location is no where near the herb garden.  I asked my husband and he could not offer an explanation.  Then during the traditional family yard work day on Mother's Day, I discovered an abundance of cilantro right in the same place.  The plants loom large and will provide enough cilantro for an abundance of dishes.  How did this happen?  Why is this location the perfect location?  I am reminded of Jesus' parable of the sower in Matthew 13.

I don't exactly know how this revelation of the earth will shape my ministry as a whole but I do know that one of the discoveries I am making on my sabbatical is the deep desire to return to some level of retreat work. In the first ten years of my ministry, I frequently took groups on retreat.  My time at Ghost Ranch reawakened in me the desire to go into the "wilderness" with people and so I will pursue getting a group together from St. John's and perhaps the larger diocese to do a Desert Mothers retreat at Ghost Ranch sometime in 2013, perhaps teaming with a male colleague who would do a Desert Fathers retreat.  The landscape at Ghost Ranch provides its own spiritual awakening.  I want so much for others to experience the power of this fierce landscape.

Prickly Pear in Bloom

Toward the end of my stay in the desert, I found a number of prickly pear plants in bloom.  They spoke to me in a big way!

WE are the Desert Mothers

When I first arrived on this retreat, I was not in a place to socialize.  I was so tired and close to burnout that I just did not want to talk to anyone.  The prickly pear plant, so prevalent in this landscape, resembled my stretched and torn heart.  I found all kinds of reasons to keep my distance.  But as the week progressed, I encountered the wonder of these women, a mixture of lay and ordained.  Gradually we moved from learning about the desert mothers to becoming desert mothers with all that that entails; silence and prayer woven with heart felt conversation and holy laughter.  Our vans became Amma 1 and Amma 2 as we journeyed to the places of spiritual richness that surround this area.  By the end, I felt a connection to this group of women all of whom brought their own wounds and gifts to this retreat.  

Christ in the Desert Monastery

On one of the days, we visited Christ in the Desert Monastery which is quite near Ghost Ranch.  What a magnificent place.  I plan to return there for a retreat at some point next year.  I have known for a long time that landscape is a critical part of my spiritual life.  Being in this part of New Mexico has renewed the connection between landscape and God and my inner life.  Yesterday when I was reading the selection from Leviticus for the daily office, I could visualize God speaking to Moses on Mt. Sinai in a way that was previously not available in my imagination.  

The Stations of the Cross at this monastery are magnificent.  Each cross is a different shape.  I could have sat there for hours.  Another time.

Holy Dirt

One day of our retreat included a trip to Chimayo, a place of great healing. Our group had a healing service at the outdoor altar.  We read the 9th chapter of the gospel of John, the story in which Jesus heals the blind man by putting mud on his eyes.  Chimayo has a room off of the church that contains holy dirt (that IS what they call it) collected from a nearby riverbed.  Our healing service included making a cross on the top of our hands using the holy dirt.  It was powerful.  


The public is welcome to take some of the holy dirt so I filled a bag with about three cups.  Now we will have an additional means of healing for use at St. John's.  The holy dirt, aside from being holy, has an amazing physical property, quite different from any substance I have ever encountered. 


Chimayó is believed by many to be the site of a miracle which occurred about 200 years ago. 
Miraculous healings are believed to have occurred at the site where a wooden crucifix was unearthed. Because of this a chapel was built in 1816 called el Santuario de Nuestro Señor de Esquipulas. This chapel, now commonly called el Santuario de Chimayó, is the destination of thousands of pilgrims and travellers each year who come for various reasons; some hoping to be healed, some simply for curiosity, and some hoping to be restored spiritually by the tranquility and hospitality of the surroundings.

Hike to Chimney Rocks

A window into God

Hiking an unfamiliar trail is like making a new friend. Each turn brings an experience of knowing.  Hiking a familiar trial is like catching up with an old friend.  Both bring solace to this weary soul of mine.  Today I hiked a new trail.  Most of it was a steady but not taxing incline.  Up, up we headed until we were at the highest point around.  It was our group’s day of silence so the three of us hiked in total silence which allowed each of us to hear the flapping of the ravens’ wings. It was heavenly.  

On many hikes, the views come and go, not unlike God.  It is sometimes easier to feel God’s presence than at others; it just is.  Aptly named Chimney Rocks, the view at  the top was spectacular.  God’s creation arrived in full glory.  We could almost touch the rocks.  It reminded me of hiking the trails of Mt. Rainier where you can get close enough to feel as though you can reach out and embrace the mountain. I am falling in love with the rugged nature of this landscape.  The story of Moses climbing Mt. Sinai takes on a whole different meaning.    

The White Place

A Cave at the White Place

The White Place

Today we drove to a area called the White Place, another subject of many of Georgia O’Keeffe’s paintings - a wildly intense place of spiritual depth.  We spent an hour or so walking around this area in total silence.  I found a cave which, in my imagination,  must resemble the kind of space that some of the Desert Mothers or ammas inhabited.  I was ready to climb into this cave but out of respect for the fragility of this area, I refrained.  How did these desert fathers and mothers live?    I must confess that on a perfect day such as we had, life in the desert seems compelling.  What about when it snows, or harsh winds prevail or blinding rain creates mud holes.  Then I’d like to be inside. 

The Desert

The desert is so engaging.  I have not spent this much time in the desert and it is taking me a while to appreciate the variety of the landscape.  The drama of the land is intense and it is the perfect place to work through spiritual trials because life in the desert changes dramatically, often within just a few minutes.  I did a four mile hike into a canyon and as we returned a strong wind blew up out of no where.  It did not last long but is that not often how life is.  Things change in a minute and decisions have to be made.  We throw ourselves on the mercy of God, seeking answers that are often hiding in the crevasses of a desert wall.  

The mountains have been beaten down and changed through the harshness of the weather. And so it is with us. Life beats us down and but then the glory of God appears just like the gentle beauty that so often embraces this kind of place.  The silence is not a vacuum; it’s just an absence of all the human chatter and electronic noise that is so invasive these days.  There is much that rattles our souls and robs us of that link with the eternal.  When you are in the desert, you see the drama of God’s handiwork with such vast variety every time you drive just a short distance.  Of course, I am in an exceptionally breathtaking part of New Mexico.  There is a reason that Georgia O’Keeffe settled here.  To be able to look out at Pedernal, the flat topped mountain that is such a common subject of her artistic hands is overwhelming.  Having loved the Pacific Northwest for so many years, I never thought I would take to the desert but spending time here allows for a deeper understanding of the life Jesus lived.  This was his landscape.