Friendship as Sacrament

"I came to Jesus as I was, so weary, worn, and sad, I found in him a resting place; And he has made me glad." ~ lyrics from I Heard the Voice of Jesus Say

Today has been a long day, with a good many tears. I have come worn, weary and sad; I am in desperate need of a resting place. My deepest desire is to leave here with joy. The first talk of the day was given by a woman religious named Bonnie and the topic was being friends in the Lord. She spoke with wisdom and from personal experience. What struck me were a number of things. She pointed out that there is a cost to deep human friendships that we must be willing to pay when those friendships are rooted in love. Though human, there is a profound spiritual communion in many relationships. When two humans share a bond, it is usually a triad due to the moments of grace that are given to sustain the journey. I know that this is true for me in many of my relationships.

She shared an experience at a shelter where she was confronted by a homeless woman who asked of her, "are you a do-gooder?" If she was, she wanted nothing to do with her. If she was willing to be her friend, she could stay. In ministry, we must ensure that we are serving for the right reasons and developing mutual relationships. We must give our gifts to the Church and the whole world, thinking first of the other, and not ourselves.

Jesus, she reminded us, instructed us to take nothing for the journey which means that we must be willing to receive as well as to give. Ministry is not a one way street.

We were given a text to pray on for the day but also encouraged to just soak in nature. The grounds here are stunning. I walked the labyrinth this morning, wanting to slow down and think more about a disturbing moment from my prayer time. In reflecting on Christ's order to Peter in a colloquy, I found I was stumped. I don't know how was my response to feed my sheep. I feel stuck right now and I hope that in a week's time I can respond differently.

However, even in the labyrinth walk, I felt a shift. Labyrinths are odd places. You desire to reach the centre but the journey is a slow one. This morning, I noticed that I came very close almost immediately to the chair in the centre but the path then veered off and took me away from my destination. The journey to the centre is long and arduous, especially when walked in the hot sun. The twists and turns keep you focused as you silently place one foot in front of the other. The temptation arises to hop over a row to quicken the anticipated arrival but a voice cries out, "Trust me! You will end up where you need and want to be" and the walker stays the course.

Another woman joined me at one point and I reflected that I am not the first to walk this path, nor will I be the last. A great cloud of witnesses has gone before me and is yet to come after me as well. We are not alone, yet we all must walk the path that is laid out for us.

When I start the journey of returning, yet another temptation arises to jump to the path easily within my reach that will take me straight out, having made it to my destination. Instead, I walk the long way out, more content and more trusting than when I entered. I have less questions and anxiety though not much has essentially changed. I know that the brief time in the centre is meant to sustain me and leaving the short way does not honour the journey that I am on. I cannot cheat. I must complete the journey in its entirety.

I make it back to the house just in time for lunch. I am grateful for the meals here, which are healthy and nourishing. I am also appreciative that the meals are in silence so that I can concentrate on my own journey for the whole day, until the evening group work.

I meet with my director after a brief rest. He is a lay man and I like him. He is gentle and wise. He also prods me into where I need to go. There are a good many tears during this time. He encourages me to let go of the failures and move instead into my graced history, to ground myself with gratitude for the gifts given. I like the idea of gathering gratitude this week. It is time to let go to the negative stuff. He can see that I need rest. I think I must look like heck that it is so obvious to him that I am exhausted. He suggests that I participate in mass this week, as a gift bearer or minister. I shake my head. I am too weary. He gently recommends I give it a day or two prior to sticking by that decision. By the end of my afternoon, I have signed up to be a lector at week's end. Already, I am feeling somewhat more centered.

After our time together, I chose to go for a walk in the forested area. I come across a clearing after some time, with a beautiful metal cross, and I pray before it, but I also rest. I walk on, delighting in the beauty that God places before me. I am like a child, wondering at all I see. I love the texture of the bark on the trees and the way the light dances in this forest.

I come to a bridge with a bench on it and sit down. Water flows under me. I take off my shoes and breathe deeply. I look at the scene before me and am suddenly startled by black and white shapes darting along the stream, chasing each other. I am not sure what these creatures are and then I figure it out--dragonflies! Beautiful black-winged, white-bodied dragonflies. I feel a rush of joy at the sight of them. As I sit there a little longer, my thought is that if God can create this winged creature so beautifully, the Creator must stamp "beautiful" on everything, including me.

I walk back to the house for mass and supper. Afterwards, our small group meets. I go to sit outside, watch the sun set on the statue of St. Ignatius, and review my day. I recall to mind that someone said that friendship is a sacrament. If a marriage can be a sacrament, so can a friendship. I close this day so very grateful for this experience and for my graced history. I would not be where I am today if it were not for my friends. I hold them in prayer as I go through this week.

Peace,

Suzanne