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"I See You" by Debra Classen
I have been driving for hours now. I must stop for a cup of coffee and gas, I am getting tired and I have another two hours of driving. As I turn back onto the freeway, I crank up the air conditioner and the music to wake myself up on the long stretch of I 71S that is a straight,flat highway with fields of corn for miles. These last two hours of the six and a half hour drive are long, until I turn left on to the narrow gray band of road meandering through the Kentucky woods towards the monastery. It doesn't seem to matter how tired or hungry I am, it all melts away as soon as I see the medieval looking castle of the Abbey on the slope of the hill. A wave of peace and happiness begins to wraparound me. The long stretch of monastic, stone wall beckons me, calling me to the peace within its walls.
Just beyond the blinking red light at the corner is a house with a wide front porch. This is Bethany Spring Retreat House, part of the"Merton Institute for Contemplative Living", where I will be staying to give a retreat on "Beauty". I hope to spend a few days of silence and solitude with the monks at the Abbey, in the days beyond the retreat.But before I go to Bethany Spring I must stop at the monastery.
I park and as soon as my feet touch the ground I feel I am "home". I have been driving down to the Abbey of Gethemani in Kentucky for fourteen years now. So much of what I have experienced within these walls of prayer have changed me. I am like a shard of glass, the jagged edges beginning to be worn smooth by the crashing waves of silence and prayer in this place. The
My first trip to the monastery had been in early August, over a decade ago. Although I have now returned to the Abbey during each season, this particular week in the heavy Kentucky heat of August, brought back a wave of those first memories. I remember getting lost and pulling into"Jim Beam" Bourbon distillery, thinking I had finally found the monastery. The buildings were large and ominous looking gray structures with small black stained windows. As I approached the buildings, the air reeked of alcohol. I remember thinking, "If this is the monastery--I am not going in." Fortunately I had quickly discovered that the monastery was further down the road and much more inviting than the distillery had been.
I parked, stepping out of the car into the steady, rhythmic hum of the cicadas in the sweet gum trees. The thick air of the day's heat was still rising from the earth as the bright sun began its descent behind the knobs. The rolling hills stretched out in front of the Abbey. I could see the highest one in the distance, one I had easily climbed in younger days. Walking the center of the entry towards the chapel, I stopped. I stood, as I always do when I arrive, in front of the monastic gate and read the words above the black iron gate, "GOD ALONE".
Thomas Merton, the Abbey's famous monk who put the monastery on the world map with the publication of his best selling book, "Seven Storey Mountain"wrote about the impact of those very words during his first visit to the monastery in 1948. He said, "it is the prayers of these monks in the wilderness of Kentucky "that are holding the world together."
Up the concrete steps and into the chapel--austere white stone walls,with the plainest of stained glass depicting minimal color. I sat in the darkness and this beautiful silence. The wooden monk stalls face one another, allowing the monks to echo back and forth to one another their chants of the Psalms in prayer. The simple black chair was for the visitor who had come to observe this counterculture life of the monks that has endured for centuries. The narrow and long stretch of the building and the tall vaulted ceiling, with its wooden beams lends itself to this austerity. Minimal in color and form, a simple structure,simple life, simply God, all of it reflects a life which seeks "God alone'. Here there is little room for the extravagance, busyness, and the chaos of most of our lives, and even a short stay begins to strip one to God alone.
A mile down the road I settled into my room at Bethany Spring to work on my final notes for the retreat on "Beauty", to begin tomorrow."Beauty"--a simple word that has shaped my journey. Revelations of God's beauty had converted me, a decade of academic study had given me new insights, and time with the monks had steeped me in its presence. All of it was something I passionately wanted to now share. I think it was Pope John Paul who had said that "beauty is the biggest calling card of our faith."
Years of retreats had taught me to trust God for who would come, why they would come, and what we would discover together during these next few days. Twelve years ago I had taken a class at the seminary on "The Mystics", of whom I knew virtually nothing about. My professor was a Franciscan priest, the only Franciscan I had ever heard of was St. Francis. Brown robe flowing behind him, in walked a tall man in his sixties with the kindest and most intelligent blue eyes I had ever looked into. He began his lecture and I remember my anxiety when I realized I didn't have a clue what he was talking about.
During that semester he revealed beauty to the class, to me, in a way that healed a kind of blindness I had suffered from with without knowing it. I was like
In the middle of the Mark's Gospel Jesus asks Peter, "Who do you say that I am?" Just in front of Mark's eighth chapter Jesus heals a man of his physical blindness. Just after Jesus' question to Peter He exorcises demons--healing emotional blindness(darkness). It seems that for us to see Christ clearly, to know who He is, we must be healed of whatever darkness or blindness, keeps us from seeing. A perception of the beauty of our being, our essence-- is seeing.
I felt the intensity with which the woman in my peripheral vision was listening. Her presence vibrated. A petite and beautiful woman, her hair the color of honey, her liquid blue eyes sparkling with the luminosity of her faith, she spoke with the youthful enthusiasm of a young girl. "I remember feeling invisible as a child, as if I was not seen. Now my husband and I say to one another each night,'I see you'. This is Swahili for, "I love you." In their culture it is the ability to truly see another that conveys love."
Yes, it is in seeing the beauty of another and seeing Christ within them that conveys a profound respect for the essence of their being,their beauty. Mother Teresa's ability to see Christ in the deprivation of Calcutta's poorest of the poor conveyed love for the beauty of their being. She said, "The world is not only hungry for food, but also for beauty."
We are each hungry to see beauty, to see God's beauty in our world, and to be seen through His eyes. God heals our blindness, allowing us to see... in the silence of Kentucky, in the face of a stranger, our spouse or child, and in a thousand moments of today where He unfolds His beauty within our heartaches, our struggles, our ordinary lives, if we but have eyes to see.
Posted by Debra Classen at 8/16/2010 10:40 PM 
Categories: Debra Classen, Journal
Tags: Bethany Springs beauty Retreat
Categories: Debra Classen, Journal
Tags: Bethany Springs beauty Retreat
Your words has inspired me to put this Abbey on my Travel/Retreat bucket list. Sounds beautiful and peaceful. Thank you for sharing your experience.
I too am in love with the mystics and their writings. St. Teresa of Avila is my favorite.
Blessings, W
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Debra,
Thank you for this entry. I identify with so much of your description and feelings. We are kindred spirits.
"I see you" and am grateful. UPS letter follows.
David Hilton
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