Saturday

Actually written the following Wednesday - but today should be the day that time and space come together and allow us to live in the present again.

The trip up was fast and easy compared to the days when I had to compete with workday traffic.I deliberately left early and enjoyed a quick breakfast at the convent and it was nice to share a quiet start to the day with those in residence. Matins was lovely as usual, - quiet and reflective. Though the morning weather looked promising, we were suddenly deluged with rain that turned to hail - noisy blessings.



The plan for the day was somewhat different. We gathered briefly in the chapel as usual for brief instructions. This was the day that the discussion groups were to bring back suggestions for the future of SSJD and how it might respond to the needs of the wider community. We were to return to the chapel at 10:45 with our reports.

Margaret briefed us and reminded us of the image of the tree of life. I particularly like that one because I used it in the Quiet Saturday reflection I gave earlier in the year - one of the oblates who re-committed herself on the Feast of St. John had mapped a similar one, which she had placed on the altar for all to see. The roots of the tree, Margaret said, are prayer, courage and compassion and they are watered by grace. The SSJD tree also has particular branches that bear fruit. It is now time to harvest the fruit and develop a particular "salad" to be served with delight. Like all creatures we are given energy to create it.

Sister Elizabeth Ann, responding to the weather also reminded us that John literally meant "Son of Thunder". She encouraged us to release that energy through "Big Bodacious Holy Dreams". This reminded me of the book by a writer who has always identified herself by her initials, S.A.R.K. who uses the word, "bodacious", in one of her books and is herself a living example of life transformation.



One of the participants in our discussion group showed us a picture that she had earlier also passed on to Margaret, showing that some oysters produce not just one pearl but a multitude of them. She has kindly sent it through so you can see it for yourselves - an inspiration to use a multitude of gifts.



The small groups met and returned to the Chapel after a very short coffee break. There was a wealth of ideas, all written on large sheets and mounted on both sides of the seating - serving as an offering. Many of the small groups had come to the same conclusions, particularly with extending knowledge of the value and contribution of the relgious life. You will have to forgive me for not taking notes on this session and I will simply highlight some of the ideas of my own group. Along with other groups, we thought that promotion is an area where associates and oblates can play a wider role in their parishes. There were hopes for a "religious orders day" to become part of the church calendar. We recognized that we needed to be more inviting. Associates outside the Greater Toronto area had greater needs to assemble and support one another and keep in touch. The geographic zones of the order might be reviewed because they corresponded to the country's, rather than the actual proximity of people. We wanted to add the religious life to subject matter for study groups forming part of parish programs. The most receptive to adding them would be priest associates and they provide a place to start. We also hoped that the religious life could become an option in discernment programs as well as educating candidates about the order at the beginning of their process of seeking ordination. There were also ideas about planting seeds, by speaking to groups of women, young and old, who currently had affiliations outside the church, such as professional or social organizations.

Sometimes the best messages come in pictures not words. As each group was asked to stand and identify themselves one group produced signs bearing the number 12 - harking back to Margaret's address about discipleship. Clearly they had signed on. I was able to get a couple of them to pose later.



We were then off to a silent dinner. There was a brief break but no walking outdoors as rain teemed down. By now we enjoyed talking with new friends and having a last look at the tempting books in the corridor.



Then it was time for Margaret's final address. Just before that happened participants were asked to assemble the lovely plants that had graced the common areas on the marble table in the refectory and invited to take one of the living stones in the font with them as a keepsake. Then Margaret began her address entitled, More is Less.

In our protectiveness we are often unwilling to take risks. But she related a story of a religious community of women who did. They allowed a rather rough and tumble group of boys to spend a day at the convent. Though apprehensive throughout the visit, the sisters' risk taking was rewarded by one of the boys saying on departure, "Ive never heard silence before - or heard a bird sing".

It's always her stories that make Margaret's point. Another concerned the game of 'pass the parcel'- a children's game rather like musical chairs, except children pass a package from one to another. When the music stops, the child holding it gets to unwrap a layer. There is a lot of expectation through the various stages and usually the gift in the final layer is quite small - a prize on the inside wrapped in layers of less. It reminded her though of a ruse played on a monastic, where after peeling off many layers, he found a Bible. He had the last laugh though with his immediate response - "I've read it!".

In another incident she was on a bus, where a passenger didn't have a fare in the correct currency. Another passenger simply stepped up and paid it. The one in trouble protested mightily and wanted her to take the other currency in exchange. Watching, Margaret noted how hard it is for many of us to receive when we can't pay it back. The only solution is to pay it forward.

If less is more, it requires stripping away what we have acquired and moving closer to the core of our being. This is a process that continues throughout our lives when the final unpacking comes with death itself. In hindsight, we have to discern how we have come closer to the core through loving choices, and continue them. Margaret related how during a particularly painful period in her own life she had attended a Holy Week retreat and returned to her room to find that the last petal of a bouquet of sweet peas had finally fallen. It seemed to mirror her own desolation until she saw that what remained was a seed pod that could be transformed into new life.

Finally those who know the pain connected with birthing might ignore the fact that the process isn't any picnic for the baby either. It has existed in a comfort zone where food is continually available, the temperature is steady and the heartbeat is comforting. Suddenly the baby is pushed and squeezed into a new world where its food supply is rather violently cut off, the temperature is cold and the heart beat disappears. But it is also a world of blazing light - where new warmth is found in human arms, where new food is offered with increasing variety - Margaret earlier talked about telling her granddaughter what fun it is to be able to turn a small jar of pureed cauliflower and cheese into a little girl - and where many new hearts beat to surround the child with love. The entry to planet earth places us in new relationship. It feels like loss initially but leads to life.

We venture out moving from one stepping stone to another. In a dream, Margaret imagined herself trying to cross a fast flowing river of life and needing stepping stones ot ensure her passage. Suddenly a boulder appeared and then another which ensured her passage. She wondered where the boulders were coming from and then realized they were being removed from her former house.

We have to let go and leave some things behind. The bridge to the future may require relinquishing huge and familiar traditions and the need to deconstruct and reshape them. A good experience in a secular training course found her resisting leaving because the place felt good. But the solution was to walk forward with open and empty hands, not clinging, confident that more would come, internalizing what was best in the experience to add to the person she already was.

We are, like the participants in the skit, weaving a web of who we are. It has to be based on the kind of trust that we remember Mary in the Angelus had in which she staked everything. Like her, we are called by name and our previous life will never return. It's scary to go forward without fear. But we can be a little like the long distance truck driver who turned his engine on for his first trip in a dark night and realized that he could see only fifty yards ahead. He was about to embark on a trip of 7,250 km across the country. The only solution is to start to move - because the light travels with us.

The final eucharist was preceded by a musical offering from Sister Ann and Dan Norman. I noted especially Sister Thelma Anne's pleasure in the music as they played demanding repertoire exceptionally well - and it was fun to see Dan give Sr. Ann a small hug in recognition of her talent as they acknowledged the applause of the crowd. The celebrant and preacher for the eucharist was Bishop Linda Nichols, Area Bishop of Trent-Durham in the Diocese of Toronto, and an Associate and long time friend of the SSJD Community. I have the privilege of working with Linda on a national task force - in fact I am meeting with her later today - and rejoice in her life giving energy as she celebrates. The elements cooperated beautifully when she said "Listen to the Wind" - and in the silence we heard a powerful rushing that was spirit filled. She also anticipated the Sunday lections summarizing so well the role of vines and branches that we have been immersed in for this amazing week.



We went to the refectory for one last talking supper. There were thank you's, leave takings and introductions of the planning group and an incredible sense of gratitude for all that we had been able to experience and share. Volunteers were invited to accept one of the plants as a thank you. One of them now graces my dining room table as a lingering reminder of the Gathering Experience.



I'll care for it as best I can. It will inevitably reach a stage when it will have to return to the earth - as will we all. But the core of The Gathering Experience will act as a stepping stone as we continue the journey.

I want to thank all those who have travelled the week with me for their kind remarks. Once they unpack both suitcases and the experience itself I hope they will add their comments. I was amused at how many people were reading the blog as the week progressed. Where were all those computers hidden? We seem a bit like tourists who spend the whole time reading the guide book - and I confess to sometimes being one of them - instead of looking at the place where we are. Why don't you write your own blog, I sometimes hoped.

I'll have a writing vacation for now. But I will want to share the debriefing meeting that is coming up in a couple of weeks. Please feel free to add your own thoughts and ideas. The Gathering journey, after all, is really just beginning.

Blessings
Norah Bolton