A Silent Retreat

August-September 2008

When I tell people I've been away for a week's silent retreat, I get several reactions: 'I've been meaning to do that, but just never seem to get around to it.' 'Where did you go?' 'What did you do?' 'A silent retreat? What's that like?' 'I suppose you've come back restored.' I must say that seldom did I get a disinterested reaction. Going on retreat seems to be something that appeals to most of us church-going Christians, however infrequently we actually do it.

So why did I go, where did I go, and what did I do?

I went away on a silent retreat so that I could focus on a time of prayer and contemplation. I chose the Mother House of the Order of the Holy Paraclete, Sneaton Castle, Whitby because it is an Anglican order and the women observe four daily Offices which I attended every day: Lauds, Midday, Vespers and Compline. They give a structure to the day and emphasise the priority of worship, praise and prayer which, good as my intentions are, are lacking in my daily life at home - good stuff.

There are just two rooms for guests in the Priory. Spiritual direction is not provided there, but is available elsewhere. Details are on their website: www.ohpwhitby.org. I fixed my own breakfast to eat in my room; everything was provided. I ate with the sisters at lunch, the main meal, and supper, both silent with a few exceptions; then I was provided with a tray in my room. There is a good working library which I've checked out, but don't use. That's not why I go.

Why was silence so important? It freed me from interaction with other people which is a normal part of daily life, but which I need to step aside from occasionally. Was I bored? No. What did I read? The very first time I did a silent retreat I discovered the importance of virtually no reading. Like conversation it's part of my everyday life. The words of the Offices were sufficient for thought. This time I brought an essay on Silence and before sleep read a few pages of Gerald Durrell's Fillets of Plaice.

It took a couple of days to put off the sense of usual responsibilities and get on with the primary activity for the week: BEING. I need silence for that, and great chunks of solitude which the community provides in its grounds, in an oratory, in a small side chapel, and in my room. The place is soaked in their lives of prayer and silence, and I participate.

Did I come back restored? Yes, but it's simpler than that. It's deeper than that. I was embarking on an adventure: a journey into silence. The first day one of the novices gave me a scallop shell, a gift to her as she went on pilgrimage. She could either keep it or pass it on to another pilgrim. By the second day I realized I was indeed on a pilgrimage to be in silence with God, True Silence

Alice Bullough


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