Monastery retreat puts "beauty of things" in focus

I made my annual retreat at the Trappist Abbey, a Catholic monastery for men, this past week.

Situated just outside Lafayette, Ore., the Trappists recently inaugurated an attractive new chapel with high wooden beams and windows overlooking the thick woods. The monks host a great number of retreatants, both men and women, in their 15 guest rooms.

A small sign in the dining room described my retreat, "When you reach the heart of life/You shall find beauty in all things," (Kahlil Gibran). Of course, I didn't reach the heart of life, but I grew closer to the beauty of things.

Three other Jesuits were making the retreat at the same time, and we gathered each evening for some faith sharing about the movements of the Spirit in prayer. Often the insight of someone else described my own inarticulate experience of God's interior motion in my life.

The Trappists are a reformed branch of the Cistercians, which date back to the Abbey of Cîteaux (near Dijon, France), which was founded in 1098 by monks who wished to live the Rule of St. Benedict in greater poverty, seclusion and strictness.

The name "Trappist" comes from the Cistercian Abbey of La Trappe in Normandy, France, which conducted its own reform in the late 17th century.

We Jesuits joined the monks for the Liturgy of the Hours three times a day: Lauds (morning praise) at 6:30 a.m.; Vespers (evening prayer) at 5:30 p.m.; and Compline (closing prayer of the day) at 7:30 p.m. Situated in choir stalls, 24 monks, 12 on each side, alternately sing verses of the divine praises, principally psalms and hymns.

They sing with great simplicity and clarity of heart.

Morning prayer begins each day with the invocation:

"Blessed be the name of the Lord, from this time forth and forevermore: from the rising of the sun to its setting, the name of the Lord is to be praised."

And Compline closes the day:

"Now in the fading light of day,

Maker of all, to You we pray;

That with your ever watchful love.

You guard and keep us from above. ...

Preserve us for another day."

Somewhat surprisingly, two elderly monks accompany this final hymn on guitars — one of the highlights of my day.

The 1,400 acres of the monastery are replete with hiking trails. They also host an abundance of the ominous, alluring poison oak. In fact, the hills seemed alive with all things that itch: nettles, thistle, vetch, false brome and a plethora of biting, buggy things.

Since I was using some of the meditations of St. Ignatius from his Spiritual Exercises for my prayer, I imagined all these itchy items, especially the poison oak, as little icons of my "disordered affections" — all those habits of thought and feeling that lead me away from God — all that lead me away from the heart of life and from the ultimate beauty of things. I guess I'm an urban boy at heart.

My prayer had a special poignancy this year as I contemplated the life of my mother, who died last February, and the wonderful gift she had been to me and all her children and to so many others throughout her life. Much of my prayer kept returning to praise and thanksgiving for her life.

In addition, the new Jesuit Superior General Father Adolfo Nicolás (Rome) has appointed me as the new rector (religious superior) of the 30 Jesuits at Seattle University (more on this in my next column). So this new challenge provided plenty of food for prayerful thought.

Ultimately I felt great peace in this place of monastic solitude, a place that renewed me for deeper communion with the beauty of all things.

The Rev. Patrick Howell, S.J., is vice president for mission and ministry at Seattle University. Readers may send feedback to faithcolumns@seattletimes.com