Retreat to Montreat

Dear Husband and I took a working vacation to Montreat this year. Nestled in the mountains of western North Carolina, not far from Asheville, the town of Montreat is home to Montreat College (blue signs) and a Conference Center (green signs) that hosts events associated with the Presbyterian Church (USA). The campus surrounds "Lake Susan"* and is reached by driving under a stone gateway with two arches that could be interpreted as an "m." The name is a contraction of "Mountain Retreat Association."

This was my first visit to the Presbyterian Association of Musicians Worship & Music Conference, and DH's fourth as the Music Director of Sewickley Presbyterian Church. SPC has been sending a contingent of singers, bell ringers, and hangers-on for almost 4 decades, since his predecessor brought the idea with him from Mississippi. It's a Presbyterian version of the United Methodists' Music and Worship Arts Week at Lake Junaluska (less than an hour west of here!), and the SPCers' favorite moment of every day is happy hour on the back patio before dinner.

Flying out after Sunday morning worship via Charlotte to a recently expanded Asheville Regional Airport, where we rented a car for the week, we arrived juuust as the kick-off worship service was starting in Anderson Auditorium (above). It was truly impressive to hear hundreds of people of all ages singing and praying together. The theme of the scriptures, liturgy, and music for the week was "Who'll Be a Witness?"

We shared a room with twin beds in Assembly Inn (pictured from the other side of Lake Susan, top), the main lodging house with a cafeteria that provided all our meals. DH and I both signed up for sessions like a lecture series on hymns, adult Bible study, intermediate bell ringing (him), and movement in worship (me), but I didn't want to burn a vacation day when the fourth Monday of the month is already scheduled for video visits, so I actually worked 10 hours on Monday with meetings and patient visits (after buying a webcam from Best Buy on our way into town) from the lobby (above) and our room. Having missed the first day, and cognizant of a lengthening summer to-do list of lectures, papers, and a book review, I decided to skip all but one hour of class to catch up with this, that, and the other thing.

In between reading, writing, or emailing from a succession of comfy or charming locations, I attended worship at 11am, ate meals with the group, and joined in the evening activities (below, in order): a comedic operetta based on Cinderella, a tree-themed hymn festival, and a brass band concert played outside for us to enjoy around the lake. The weather was cooler and drier than I had anticipated, mostly 60s in the mornings and 70s in the afternoons, with occasional overnight rain.

Tuesday evening a group of us drove into Black Mountain, parked at the visitor's center with its oversized rocking chair (below), and ate dinner al fresco at the bistro next door. Having left room for dessert, DH and I walked over to Kilwins for ice cream (also famous for its fudge), which we ate while walking around the quaint downtown of shops.

Earlier in the day I had "stimulated the economy" by patronizing the Montreat Store and its upstairs affiliate, The Good Steward. My prize find was a pair of glass bubble earrings by a local artist for only $35. I promptly wore them for my 2-hour drive to Charlotte on Wednesday to surprise my 100-year-old grandmother for lunch. I stopped by my aunt and uncle's house to see them and one of my cousins before battling traffic back in time for dinner.

Thursday and Friday, DH played a handbell voluntary before the services (video above), and Friday the service featured two tall flagpoles with doves at the top (above) that I really liked for bringing movement into worship. Friday at lunchtime we ducked into the Presbyterian Heritage Center in Freeland Hall (pictured below, with the kids' ribbon procession practice session barely visible over the stone wall). The small museum held a variety of exhibits: on the origins of Montreat; a well-done exercise applying critical historical skills to the question of the Mecklenburg Declaration of 1775; and Rev. John Mack Walker, Jr.'s carved wooden sculptures of Biblical characters dressed and posed like Appalachian residents in the 20th century. After lunch I came back to look at the other exhibits and to finish this blogpost in the quiet, air-conditioned library / archive.

The Walk to Emmaus (1961) won an award from the North Carolina Museum of Art for its depiction of mountain people. When classes let out, we bundled two seminarians and all our stuff into the rental car and drove to the airport. We were sad to miss the big closing service / concert Friday evening, but I got scheduled to round with the brand-new hospital interns Saturday morning. May the Spirit of the Lord interrupt my work as often as my work interrupts my leisure. Amen!

*Lake Susan was created in 1910 when the creek was dammed. It is named for the niece, sister, mother, grandmother, and great grandmother of the man who donated the wood. It's now made of stone and has a waterfall that can be enjoyed from a rocking chair or bench on the three decks of the Moore Center, which hosts a cafe (I was made the Duchess of The Huckleberry Cafe on Yelp after checking in only twice!), two shops, and classrooms.

SPC Women's Retreat: Never

Today I attended my first women's church retreat since I can remember. Sewickley Presbyterian Church has traditionally gone out to beautiful Ligonier, an hour's drive southeast of Pittsburgh, but this year they started alternating with a partial-day retreat on the church campus, and twice as many women were able to participate. I could have stayed home, working on the latest version of my book manuscript, which has been sitting in my email for more than a week. (I know you must be thinking, "I thought you finished the book, what more could there possibly be to do?" Well, after I submitted it  to the Press in March, a copyeditor make suggestions over the summer that I had to deal with, and I promise we're now on the final step, which is checking for errors and compiling an index.) Unfortunately, it meant I missed the local No Kings protests, but I've enjoyed looking through photos of crowds and signs online. Here's the sign that welcomed us.

Welcoming tableaux with encouraging words and lanterns to light our metaphorical paths. 

Despite our suburban setting, the retreat planners opted for a rustic-country-chic style, which just elevated the mood of the basement dining hall. They fed us a cold breakfast and soup for lunch. The theme was "Never," based on Tasha Layton's song "Never" which proclaims "Never forgotten / Never forsaken / Never abandoned."

Pastor Barb chose three Bible passages to illustrate these themes: the story of King David showing kindness to Mephibosheth (2 Samuel 9-13) instead of killing him as the heir of a rival; Jesus' uttering the first line of Psalm 22 as synecdoche for "hope still has the last word"; and the story of Moses' birth (Exodus 2:1-10). This last one was very personal for Pastor Barb, who shared some of the toughest moments in the long journey to adopt two of her children from Haiti, and for two of the women at my table, who had both adopted children from Russia. They talked about the courage it takes to give a child up to another family being the opposite of abandonment.

We played some ice-breaker activities like "That's so me!" and "What's in your purse?"

After lunch, we walked over to the Faith House for "prayer activities that sometimes look like crafts":

• just sit in stillness and rest
• read some psalms and then write one
• pray for your family over a heart-shaped keychain to take home as a reminder
• sit on a comfy sofa and do breath prayer
• put on a backpack full of rocks and meditate on the burdens you're carrying, then remove one of the rocks, write a burden on it, and leave it at the foot of the cross
• take-a-verse-leave-a-verse (see below)
• write a magnetic poem-prayer
• meditate in front of a mirror about replacing negative self-talk with positive affirmations
• decorate a ceramic tile with your "sins" (in marker) and then symbolically "wash them away" with alcohol
• pray for the least and last in the world while looking at photos
• make a Bible bookmark and take one someone make
• pray for someone who has hurt you and then bury those resentments with a heart-shaped seed card that will hopefully grow into flowers
• color part of a "Never" poster while thinking about the women of faith who have impacted you

I left the verse, "Cast all your worries upon God, because God cares for you." ~1 Peter 5:7

I took home, "The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you, he will never leave your nor forsake you. Do not be afraid, do not be discouraged." ~Deuteronomy 31:8

I brought my prayer beads (a craft from graduate school Bible study), seen here with two small devotional books for later: Chris Tiegreen's Moments of Hope: 40 Days of Encouragement for Women (Walk Thru the Bible) and Lysa Terkeurst's Is God Speaking to Me?

It was a good day of fellowship that I hope will bring me closer to my sisters in Christ.

Walking the Labyrinth: Guide My Steps, O God

Today I walked a labyrinth. It's a spiritual practice I have tried before but now the Adult Forum at my church is reading Barbara Brown Taylor's An Altar in the World: A Geography of Faith. In one of the chapters we discussed this morning, Taylor describes the spiritual discipline of "walking on the earth," of being connected with the ground that holds us up. We had also discussed how easy it is to fall into "cow paths," worn ruts that are direct but also unimaginative.

The most famous labyrinth is probably the one in Chartres Cathedral. Our church is having a competition for local artists to design a temporary labyrinth that can be set up on the lawn for Lent. It reminded me of the Franklin Community Garden and walking prayer maze that Dear Husband and I had discovered on one of our many daily quarantine walks way back last spring. I decided to check it out.

As you can see, the setting isn't much, especially this early in the year. But the half-circle, quasi-mushroom-shaped path was clear. I prayed before I started that the stress of house-hunting would be lifted. And then I walked. Not too fast, not slowly, just steadily onward, looking at the ground. 

I could see that other people had piled small stones on top of the brick painted "LOVE" at the center of the maze. Probably they had picked up a rock on their way in and left it--and the burden it represented--before spiraling out of the center.

I was not carrying a burden today so much as practicing the discipline of walking in the prescribed path. I could have easily stepped over the low brick markers, of course, but I chose not to. I found myself praying, "Direct my steps, O God."

On my way out, however, I couldn't help but notice that some of the bricks had fallen slightly out of line. I nudged them back into alignment with my foot. Then I picked up a chunk of brick to one side and carried it with me to a spot that no longer had a stone. This meant I deviated a somewhat from the path, but no one was waiting to take their turn or to pass me, so it seemed undisruptive, maybe even helpful to those who might come after me.

A charitable reading of this would be to say that it was like I was co-creating with God and the labyrinth builders. The bricks were out of place, and I was able to re-place them. A critical reading would suggest that I can't help meddling, that I assume my ideas are the correct ones, and that I can't leave well enough alone.

I can't tell you which is the correct answer, and maybe there isn't one. But I spent a short half hour in the thin sunshine, and I plan to walk the labyrinths at Chatham University and at Third Presbyterian Church later this Lent.

What spiritual disciplines are you practicing?