Restored by silence

I just had such a wonderful, restorative retreat. Feeling frazzled and scattered, I had decided a stay in a monastery might do me good. I found a Cistercian women’s community in Fribourg that opens its doors to guests, and made plans to stay a couple of nights. This week, from Monday to Wednesday of Holy Week, the time finally came.

I could slow way down and pare life to the essentials: eating, sleeping, walking, reading, listening, breathing. Attending the daily office, with its beautiful singing in a 700 year old church. Chatting over meals with other visitors who had also made their way to this center.

I am so grateful to the women who maintain this sacred space and make it available to others. I hope that I can keep its gifts in my remembrance and practice, even as I return to regular life with all its demands.

What restores you when you feel life is getting to be too much? Is there a special place where you find peace?

Last month, asking subscribers what date and time might work for them for an online Sacred Reading practice meeting proved to be a good idea. So anyone who would like to meet up in April, please send me a message. Then I’ll do my best to find a time that works for everyone.

Once scheduled, the meeting info will be sent to everyone, so you can still join spontaneously.

Paradox
Paul Laurence Dunbar

I am the mother of sorrows,
I am the ender of grief;
I am the bud and the blossom,
I am the late-falling leaf.

I am thy priest and thy poet,
I am thy serf and thy king;
I cure the tears of the heartsick,
When I come near they shall sing.

White are my hands as the snowdrop;
Swart are my fingers as clay;
Dark is my frown as the midnight,
Fair is my brow as the day.

Battle and war are my minions,
Doing my will as divine;
I am the calmer of passions,
Peace is a nursling of mine.

Speak to me gently or curse me,
Seek me or fly from my sight;
I am thy fool in the morning,
Thou art my slave in the night.

Down to the grave will I take thee,
Out from the noise of the strife;
Then shalt thou see me and know me–
Death, then, no longer, but life.

Then shalt thou sing at my coming.
Kiss me with passionate breath,
Clasp me and smile to have thought me
Aught save the foeman of Death.

Come to me, brother, when weary,
Come when thy lonely heart swells;
I’ll guide thy footsteps and lead thee
Down where the Dream Woman dwells.

The text above comes from the Lectionary Poetry project of the Englewood Review of Books, which since 2019 has been publishing a weekly selection of poems that dialogue in some way with the three-year cycle of Bible readings used in many churches. One volume of these selections is now available as a PDF download - see here for purchase options. Or follow the weekly series on the Englewood website.

I appreciate this series for both reminding me of some favorite poems and alerting me to some I had not previously encountered, like the one by Paul Laurence Dunbar above. As I reflected on my journey with silent prayer, my attention was especially caught by the last lines - “I’ll guide thy footsteps and lead thee / Down where the Dream Woman dwells.” Guided into the realm of the sacred feminine, the open generative space of creation, all that we take in during the day can be transformed as our dreams reshape experience during the night. It’s another way of understanding the process of sacred reading, too.

In the lectionary poetry series, each traditional poem is juxtaposed one in more up-to-date language, stimulating reflection on different artistic uses of the word. Dunbar’s metrical rhyming stanzas, for example, were paired with the free verse poem “Making a Fist” by Palestinian-American Naomi Shihab Nye. Both, for me, made a powerful emotional impact, though in very different ways.

How do these poems resonate with the lectionary text, Psalm 31:9-16, which begins “Be merciful to me, O Lord, for I am in distress?” The compilers do not add any commentary, but leave readers to draw their own connections.

As a source of material for Sacred Reading, this project is a goldmine. Many thanks to the Englewood Review for this resource, just one of their many richly rewarding offerings.

I hope this newsletter is an inspiration for your own practice of Sacred Reading. If you have any feedback or suggestions, I’d always love to hear from you.