Diary of a temporary monk
Andrew Cowley reports on a weekend less ordinary
Friday 7th February
4.29 pm. Words said: hundreds (normal). Time spent in devout contemplation: none (not good, but fairly normal).
Arrive at chemistry car park to see a group of people standing around a few bags. Some look fairly excited, some look fairly apprehensive, and some look like they've been here before. The one thing in common is we are all about to go on retreat. The venue: The community of the Resurrection, a community of Anglican monks in Mirfield. Oh, and it's a silent retreat.
6 pm. Arrive in Mirfield to be greeted by Zachary, a zany monk who looks a bit like Denzel Washington. OK, first few preconceptions shattered. We sign in and drop our stuff in the surprisingly nice individual rooms. Was I the only one expecting a dormitory?
8.15 pm . We've had our first meal (some kind of cheesy eggy bready thing), which was very pleasant, especially talking to the monks who all seem an interesting lot. On our table we had `Bead', a novice who was himself a former Langwith student and G&S hack. We're about to head off on a tour of this fairly enormous place, but apparently it's all just one long corridor. We're still talking.
Approx. 9 pm. I've just said my last secular word for the next 36 hours or so. This is going to be quite freaky, but at least we can talk and sing as part of the services. Talking of which, there is another one happening in the next few minutes. Two services in one day, and it's not even a Sunday!
Round up: Services attended: 2 (v. good). Zany monks met: 1 (probably good). Number of times sworn under my breath already: 3 (bad, but only if "pants" counts).
Saturday 8th February
8 am. Services missed already: 2 (bad). Words said: 0 (good).
OK, about to have breakfast and already I've been tripped up by the silence. I just missed the start of 6.45 matins, so was going to join them for the 7.10 Holy Communion service. Unfortunately the services ran together and although a monk let me in, I didn't understand what was happening so ended up in completely the wrong place. Grr …
1.15 pm. Lunch time! All this contemplation is hungry work. Again a very pleasant meal with the incredibly hospitable monks, although pud
ding is some kind of eggy bready meringue thing. It takes a while to realise that the person opposite you who is gesticulating wildly is actually just asking you to pass the gravy, but otherwise silent meals work quite well. Maybe my parents had the right idea after all. What did catch me by surprise however, was when the monks all pulled out books concealed about their persons and got through a few pages in between courses.
3.45 pm. Just spent the time since lunch in silent contemplation. Well, I was supposed to. I actually had a nice cup of tea and then wandered around the lovely grounds. I suppose it was a pretty thoughtful walk, as the grounds were simple, yet thought provoking. I got the impression it was often the wandering of my mind that gets in the way of my reflection on God. Must try harder.
5.15 pm. The silence is broken for the next session led by Rev. Stuart Burgess (well, we were still silent — captive audience or what?) Like several others throughout the weekend, this was on the theme of Behold the Beauty of the Lord and introduced different ways this had been sought. I also found a good book (reading is a big thing at Mirfield) called Our Duty and Our Joy by Robert Llewelyn, about praising God for everything (and yes, he means everything!) It hit home immediately. The message also tied in well with the thinly veiled practical advice given in C. S. Lewis' Screwtape Letters. Spending time in the lovely church has also been very good.
7.30 pm.
Praise God for monks, tea, fruit and even for the weird cheesy eggy bready thing which we had for dinner. It was subtly different from the cheesy eggy bready thing we had yesterday, but I couldn't explain how. Just before dinner we had a rather nice evening service. We've
had the bells at Mirfield before (and I don't mean the ones at 6.38am) but we've also just had the smells with some rather nice incense being wafted about. Actually wanted to stay in the church for a bit after the service, but cheesy eggy bready thing was calling...
9.30 pm. Just finished final service of the day. Am finally getting the hang of this chanting business too. The overall effect in the church is amazing and the whole experience is very uplifting.
Round up: Service count for the day: 2 missed (1 attended in spirit if not in body), 3 made (phew! — hard work but v. good!). Words said: 0 (v. good, except when trying to figure out what's going on!).
Looking back on the day, I feel I've really discovered something important. To quote Julian of Norwich: "We can never attain the full knowledge of God until we have first known our own soul thoroughly." It is the honest admission of who we are and acknowledgement of all our facets that helps us receive God — for He will accept us
no matter how dark the facet may be. And instead of repressing our negatives, we should know them and bring them into God's radiance.
Sunday 9th Februrary
10.40 am. Normally my usual service wouldn't have finished yet, but today I've already made it to two (hooray!) The latest Rev. Burgess session was on "falling in love", illustrated with the stories of St Teresa of Avila and St John of the Cross, set in the context of the 16th century. There was some beautiful poetry to go with the session, which didn't shy away from talking about physical love either. Then again neither does the Bible in Song of Songs chapter 7!
12 pm. Hours spent in silence: 39 (v. good indeed!). Number of meals based on some kind of eggy bready thing: 3 (actually quite good). Number of zany monks encountered: too many to count, but none were quite the same as Zachary.
Ah, talking again! Surprisingly, it was harder to start talking again than it was to stop. In the language of silence, a smile says so much, and I'm sure we were all smiling a lot more when we couldn't talk. Another thing I noticed was that everyone became far more attentive to other people. Someone can't get your attention by calling your name, so you tend to look at people more, just in case they might need you. Similarly meal times were fantastic, instead of asking for things, you were trying to anticipate your neighbour's needs and offering them things without being asked — something that would probably work just as well outside of a monastery too. Must try harder …