I was a participant in a vestry retreat at the end of
August. We spent time at the monastery of Christ in the Desert. It’s a beautiful
location, reached by a 13 mile gravel road, which can be treacherous if wet.
This year it was fine and even fairly smooth. Those of us who had traveled the
road before noted that we made ‘good time’ and were actually able to do up to
20 or even 25 MPH along the road. Once at the monastery there is no cell phone
service, so you are out of touch for the duration. The Chama River runs right
past the monastery and usually there is wildlife to be heard and sometimes
seen. It is a serene and beautiful spot. It is easy to see why the monastery
founders chose that location.
I arrived early to set up snacks and make preparations for
the retreat. After a walk down to the Chama River that runs through and past
the monastery on its way to join the Rio Grande, I returned to the guest house.
Sitting on the deck, my thoughts focused on the limestone cliffs towering over
the valley.
Your first impression might be that they are rather barren
and impossibly steep cliffs. Then you start looking more closely. Steep yes, with
piles of rocks that have fallen from the sides cluttering up the bottom of the
cliffs. However, there is also a lot of life. Pine trees sprout up from cracks
and grow tall. Small shrubs cluster here and there along the face of the cliff,
wherever there is the slightest bit of dirt or level ground. Along the ridge
line, a line of trees can be seen, which outlines it.
The more you stare at the cliff side, the more you see. Shadows
turn out to be cracks, an abutment is really a tumble of huge stones, various
shades of green highlight different trees and bushes, the jutting rock at the
top of the cliff might look like a face in profile. It is easy to imagine how
early humans would see their gods in the created world around them.
The Holy One who made all things is also very present in the
cliffs and canyons where the river has tumbled for millennia. (Likely another reason the monks chose the location.) How can trees
grow on the seemingly barren limestone walls? They grow because a tiny bit of
dirt and a seed blew into a crack. It nestled there until the proper amount of
moisture and sunlight brought forth life. And that life flourished.
In my own life there are what feel like barren cliffs.
Things from the past that have left scars. However, sometimes I find myself
pausing to sit with God and bravely stare at those scarred cliffs. Instead of
barrenness, I see that there is new growth here and there. A seed of new life
has found its way into the niche and grows there. Hidden and mostly unnoticed,
nourished by prayer and study, the seed sprouts and starts to grow. Then
suddenly, one day you realize the cliff is alive with abundant life!
We happened to be there during a full moon. It was partially hidden behind clouds for the
early part of the evening, which gave it a luminescent beauty. This got me
thinking about the ways we often ignore God’s work which is right in front of
us. We are too busy running to get our ‘important’ daily things done, and we
neglect pausing to just see what God is doing. Then we pause and look around.
Like the moon behind the clouds, God is always there,
waiting to shine light on our lives. We just need to be willing to wait in the
silence for the clouds to move away. The light pours down, illuminating
the new life even on the scarred cliffs of the past.
I drew a picture of the cliff at the monastery to remind me
that life and growth can sprout anywhere. From the scars of my past, things
like books and curriculum have sprouted.
What might be growing in the, seemingly, desolate places in
your hear?
What action of God could you see if you took time to pause and look around?
