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?

Palm Sunday under Quarantine

This Palm Sunday Dear Husband and I celebrated Palm Sunday with Third Presbyterian Church via Zoom. Despite the occasional technical difficulties (we got kicked off twice!), it was really nice to see our church family. You can see our Communion set up here: tea in appropriately Pittsburgh-themed black and yellow mugs, and Lenten pretzels on a ceramic sand dollar paten from my parents. The Miracles of Jesus in Galilee place mats are from DH's parents' trip to the Holy Land. It was a beautiful service with plenty of time for meditation. I hope we can have singing next week; at the very least, I suppose DH and I could sing together at the piano here.

I have spent the last two weeks basically home, and I expect the same for another week before taking my turn at the hospital for a week. Being off clinical rotations has let me cook more than usual. So far I have made scones from a mix, an old favorite, Bean and Potato Casserole with roasted Brussels Sprouts, and a new recipe, Creamy Tuna Pasta. DH complained that the sprouts with olive oil, salt, and rosemary were too bland, so I spiced up the leftovers with red pepper flakes and was pleasantly surprised by how much I liked them that way. This week he will bake a pie out of mixed frozen fruit, and I want to make chocolate chip cookies.

On the left, I am pleased with how well my spider plants are doing. There is another little group on the mantel in the front room, and the "giants" are now out on the front porch. On the right, snuggling up together on the couch to stream a movie on my laptop. We have been holding a disaster-themed film series every Friday evening. So far we have watched Contagion (2011), War Games (1983), and Cast Away (2000). Also Dial M for Murder (1954), split up over two other nights, if you want to count that. DH gets to choose next week; he is thrilled(!) to finally get to show me The Shining (1980).

That's So Pittsburgh: Mystics in Motion

One night at Mystics in Motion (the Wednesday night service formerly known as Worship Jam), we made sock puppets. The idea was that while we might show one face to each other, God knows our innermost selves. So we decorated socks and then turned them inside out and decorated them again. And because this is a group of creatives, we went around the circle to name and describe our characters before and after their transformations. (That's my sock with its two different personalities above.)

Because I waited too long to write this post, I can't remember any of the details, but that's probably just as well, as many of them reflected their creators' personalities and interior journeys. I will say that I was struck by the fact that no one's sock puppet had the same shape as anyone else's: one was tall, another short, one with a long nose, another short, and so on. That diversity and the safe space to open up to one another--to do crafts, and sing/dance, and have the faith of children--is one of the reasons we enjoy this group so much.

In an effort to be conscientious, the socks were undecorated and donated after we finished with them.

Art Potpourri at Princeton University

While visiting my cousins in New Jersey, we spent a very enjoyable hour at the Princeton University Art Museum ogling the variety of their collection. For grownups visiting alone, it could easily take 2 hours or more, but we had two eleven-year-old girls in tow, and their attention spans were just not that long--especially with the prospect of ice cream on the schedule. I was really impressed by the quality and diversity of pieces on display, which the chatty docent who met us at the door told us represented only 10% of their holdings.

On the left is a gorgeous old stained-glass window in the Arts & Crafts style of William Morris, and on the right a contemporary mobile sculpture that undulates sinuously on a timer. Below is "After Vespers," a charming portrait by Lord Leighton Frederic (1871). My poor little cell phone doesn't do the rich oil colors justice. Below that is a delightful sculpture by Jacques Lipchitz of an acrobat on a circus horse (1914). It reminded me of the Ringling Circus Museum that Dear Husband and I saw in Sarasota earlier this year. (Click to see yours truly doing "acrobatics" on horseback!)

The ancient Chinese grave guardian on the left was one of a group of figures that captivated my interest. I had never seen anything like these composite clay statues with horns, scales, fur, claws, wings, and snouts. Next to it is a photo of one of several ancient Greek mosaics with a stunning variety of colors and inventive geometric and nature-inspired shapes. Below is one of several pieces of Native American artwork included in a temporary exhibit on nature in American art. This is wampum made out of quahog clam-shell beads recognizing that the museum is located on lands that used to belong to the Lenape. The symbols are a broken peace pipe, a turtle, a tomahawk, and a cross.

This provocative piece is part painting, part sculpture. Created by Valerie Hegarty, "Fallen Bierstadt" (2007) reimagines Bridal Veil Falls in Yosemite Park as a classic, pristine landscape destroyed by fire and human intrusion. I would love to see so many natural wonders like Yosemite  or Yellowstone, but I worry that I will be one more human trampling on nature, and getting there via fossil-fueled airplane and car, thereby contributing to global warming and nature's destruction. 

Above are images from the Princeton Art Museum's medieval religious collection. Some of the art was hung in a standard, relatively minimalist gallery, while the rest occupied a room with gorgeous stained-glass windows and carved stone columns and "sheep gates" from a cathedral (right). On the left, Andrea Rico de Candia painted "Virgin of the Passion" on the island of Crete in the second half of the 15th century. It combines traditional Byzantine motifs like Mary's facial features and her "showing the way" by pointing to the Christ child with newer ideas like both Greek and Latin inscriptions and what the placard described as a frightened Jesus, losing a sandal as he hurriedly turns to look over his shoulder.

Said ice cream turned out to be delicious at The Bent Spoon, a neat little shop that has dairy-free options. Palmer Square was decorated for Small-Business Saturday, and these three ladies were singing Christmas carols in Victorian outfits. God bless them for their exertions in the cold. After stimulating the local economy, we went home for Rutgers football, take-out from an Asian fusion restaurant, and a rousing game of Forbidden Island. (If you've never played cooperative team games like Forbidden Island or Flash Point, I really recommend them!) Sunday morning we worshipped at a sleepy rural clapboard church before heading off for the next thing (my aunt and uncle's house).