Doing a Nun-ly Thing

On Friday, 5 June, feast of St Boniface, apostle of the Germans and Frisians, and incidentally a very sensible monk, blessed with the friendship of many Anglo-Saxon nuns, nearly all of whom ended up as saints, we begin our annual retreat.

All most people are likely to notice is that we are not online, and those who haven’t yet discovered scheduled tweets or Facebook posts probably won’t even notice that. However, because we are not online, we shall seem to many to be inactive, silent, invisible. Some may see this as an opportunity for rest and recuperation (which it is) but we shall also be engaging in the spiritual struggle St Paul writes about. It isn’t fashionable to refer to such things. It isn’t fashionable to admit that sin and malice have warped our understanding of God, or that we need times when we plunge deeper into the mystery of grace; but we shall indeed be praying, or at any rate, trying to pray, with an intensity we can’t sustain at other times. That is, by its very nature, an interior work no one else can know much about. Our silence, our lack of presence, may seem like nun-ly negativity, but they aren’t.

I must not give the impression that we shall emerge from our eight days of retreat with a new and saintly persona. I know I won’t, alas. Exposure to prayer and scripture tends to reveal a lot about ourselves before it shows us anything of God. It can be uncomfortable, disconcerting, thoroughly unpleasant, as our remaining illusions about ourselves are shattered one by one. The moments of light relief, the holiday aspects we also enjoy during the retreat, can never distract for very long from that rather searing experience. Is it any wonder we approach the annual retreat with mixed feelings?

I take heart, however, from one very obvious fact. God is not a destroyer. It may be a long while after the retreat has ended before we see any positive good coming from it, but we can be confident that, however much we may shrink from the self we are forced to confront during the retreat itself, God doesn’t. His love never changes. Doing a nun-ly thing like making a retreat is a powerful reminder of that.


The Annual Retreat

You may wonder why contemplative nuns should need an annual eight-day retreat. I am half in agreement with you, if you do. If we lived monastic life as it should be lived, our recollection would be perfect and a retreat unnecessary; but in actual fact, none of us does live monastic life as it should be lived. We are not saints in heaven, just sinners struggling on earth, and a retreat is an excellent means of reminding ourselves of the fact.

For the next few days, therefore, the community will be almost invisible: no tweeting, no blogging, no Facebook, no Google +, save in the most exceptional circumstances.  What shall we be doing? That rather depends on the Holy Spirit. The whole point of a retreat is to enter more deeply into the life of prayer and union with God. It’s a rather open-ended contract. All we know is that, provided we aren’t deliberately obstructive, what God wills will come about and in a small way (or perhaps even a big way) the world will reflect God a little better than before. Pray for us as we do for you.