The Hermitage
May 17, 2019
Hopefully by now you’ve read my posting about the trip so you’ll know this meditation is about my reflections on making the decision and Quo Vadis?
If you’re not familiar with the quote, it’s from the Apocryphal Acts of Peter. It seems an appropriate question at this stage of my life. Hopefully I’m not on my way to be crucified upside down, but--in many ways--it seems I’m running away from my future.
I don’t mean it in as negative sense as that might sound. The real problem is…
I don’t know where I’m going!
There’s an old saying, “If you don’t know where you’re going, no roads will get you there.”
For good or ill, I’m not one to be stationary. I use the ole boating adage..."if you’re dead in the water your rudder is useless. If you’re underway at least you can change course." I guess it’s possible He wants me to sit and wait. But I think about the disciples waiting in the upper room. As I read it, they weren’t just passively sitting on their thumbs. They’d already gone to Galilee and back to Jerusalem again for no apparent reason other than Jesus told them to go! (Matthew 28:16)
Chris and I spent a lot of time analyzing my question to him,
“What do you see me doing with my life now?”
In a real sense, I’m not just preparing for the next season of my life while I’m still reasonably mobile. I’m really looking toward the day when the Hermitage (or something similar) will truly become my retreat, dependent on others for my needs. I don’t have the resources my father had. He hired a full time driver (as did my aunt) as well as a housekeeper and nurse.
So how do I wisely use this coming season?
One option Chris suggested excites me--doing Elderhostel type things. (Elderhostel is now RoadScholar.org) They have all kinds of conferences/retreats around a multitude of subjects in a multitude of places--even overseas. For example--a week long photography retreat in the Carolina Lowlands.
The John C. Campbell Folk School has 49 categories of crafts and skills...three that immediately grabbed my attention were calligraphy, photography, and playing the hammered dulcimer (which I used to play years ago.)
I’m refreshing my coaching skills, so perhaps I can offer my premarital counseling program and clergy support program to the Diocese (if they’re interested.) I could lead retreats on spirituality (if anybody would be interested...and how would I let them know if they were?)
Life is not without opportunities to fill my time.
But that doesn’t answer the basic question.
“What does He want me to do with my life?”
I can tell you I’m very uncomfortable with the answer that keeps coming to me.
Just BE!
There’s a story a priest friend of mine told me years ago. He had been in a parish he dearly loved for many years when a unique and challenging opportunity was laid before him. Being a man of deep prayer he spent many hours in the chapel on his knees praying for guidance. As I recall the story, the day before he had to make a decision to go or stay, he heard an inner voice that clearly said, “Do you think I care what you do as long as you love Me?”
But I have to contrast that with my similar experience since He deals with us all in our own unique ways…
I had been at Lewisville for two years, dearly loved the parish and the parishioners. One day the Bishop called me into his office and said, “Why have you been ignoring the Diocese of Central Florida?” I had heard nothing from them and told him so. The next day I got a call from the Canon to the Ordinary of Central Florida who said they needed my unique combination of experiences and skills for a parish in transition. (Won’t go into all the details.) I’ve always had the standard that if a parish calls you you’re free to decline (as I’d done many times in the past.) If a Bishop calls you are obligated to at least respond. So I went through the process...and was unanimously called as their rector--a small miracle in itself. I desperately wanted to turn down the call but told them I’d give them an answer the following week.
The following week--Pentecost Sunday--as I stepped into the pulpit I still didn’t have an answer. In the middle of the sermon I heard that still small voice…”You know you can stay if you want to, but you know I want you to go.” The decision was made.
Or the decision to go into the priesthood when He audibly said to me,
“How long are you going to fight me?”
So how will I know?
Maybe I’ll meet Him on the road to Damascus again...or on the road to Emmaus...or on the lakeshore...or...or…??
And maybe...just maybe...
I’ll never know for sure.
Till then...
Thanks for journeying with me.
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Domine quo vadis? (1602) by Annibale Carracci