August 4, 2019
"The path of descent is the path of transformation. Darkness, failure, relapse, death, and roundedness are our primary teachers, rather than ideas or doctrines."
Richard RohrThe past couple of weeks have been quite a pilgrimage. Leaving Snowmass after my retreat time I was supposed to have a semi-official meeting with someone down near Farmington, New Mexico (long story) and I had gotten a hotel room there for the night, to save myself a very long drive to Santa Fe, my next stop. I drove south out of the Aspen area on a route that I had taken before, right down the backbone of the Rockies, probably up as high as 10,000 feet if not more, a breathtaking panorama. Then the road descended through towns I knew well, having both driven them before and passed them on the bus. First there was Ouray, the charming old city with hot springs where my sister PJ and I had treated ourselves to a spa day some years ago; then the old mining town of Silverton; then past the famous Purgatory ski resort; and finally into familiar old Durango where I have been many times working with John Pennington. As I was approaching Durango it suddenly occurred to me that John might actually be in the area somewhere as he often is that time of year, either there in Colorado or playing for the opera festival in Santa Fe. I gave him a call and left a message. He called back about an hour later and sure enough he was in Durango itself getting ready for a performance that evening for Music in the Mountains, for which he has performed for many years. He wanted me to come back for the performance, but I was already a long way away and had been driving for over six hours by then, anxious to get to my hotel room. It was sure nice to have a long conversation with him again. I mvery much miss the work we did together.
As it turned out my semi-official meeting had gotten
cancelled but it was a non-refundable (cheap) room. The landscape between
Durango and Farmington, New Mexico gets suddenly very desolate, the empty
fields punctuated only occasionally by random mobile homes or trailers, some of
which serve as various types of churches, mostly of the evangelical sort. I
believe a large swatch of that land is reservation. Farmington itself too was a
rather bleak town, and it was broasting hot––about 107 as I pulled into town.
The overnight at the hotel was a good stop in any case; they had a very nice
gym and pool, laundry facilities, WiFi and a sumptuous breakfast buffet (with
fresh fruit and veggie egg-white omelets!). So I was able to reconfigure for
and transition from retreat into the week ahead.
My next stop was Santa Fe to visit with our friends Deborah
and David Douglas. (Deborah is also an oblate of New Camaldoli and one of my most
trusted unofficial advisors.) They put me up for two nights at the picturesque
old La Fonda Hotel right in the heart of the old town (Santa Fe dates back to
1610 as a Spanish colony) across the corner from the well-known beautiful
cathedral basilica, another place where John and I had performed years ago.
After morning Mass, Deborah and I had breakfast there, during which I was able to
process some of the things had come up during my retreat time (an “accounting
of graces” as Deborah referred to it), then I went to their sprawling adobe
home where David and I met for the first time and swapped songs on dueling
guitars, and then a delicious dinner––and I mean one of the best meals I have
had in years––al fresco back downtown, joined by another mutual friend and
oblate from California, Jenepher Stowell, who happened to be passing through
Santa Fe that weekend. We had a marvelous conversation about the state of the
country and the church (or churches). They are three articulate educated people
with vast experience. David in particular works for an organization called WASH
(an acronym for Water, Sanitation and Hygiene), which aims to bring just those
things to health facilities in the developing countries. This has led him to
have a lot of commerce with the Vatican since a disproportionate percentage of
these health facilities are run by Catholics, and at that by religious women.
“If you want to get something done,” he has often been told, “talk to the
nuns.”
The next day I had been anticipating greatly. I drove early
in the morning from Santa Fe to Albuquerque arriving at the Center for Action
and Contemplation for a visit with Fr. Richard Rohr, OFM. I know so many people
who have been a part of CAC and its Living School that “seeks to
empower individuals to live out their sacred soul tasks in service to the world
through contemplative programs and resources.” Richard is one of those
people of whom many people profess to be friends. We know each other from his
own retreats at the Hermitage, and especially from my having done his Male Rite
of Initiation Retreat in 1998, just before my ordination, certainly one of the
pivotal moments of my life, religious and otherwise. I had also visited him
there in Albuquerque on a very similar pilgrimage in 1999, and we had run into
each other occasionally on the road. But all of that was before he had reached
his current level of international fame––Bono from U2, who endorsed his latest
book, is among his close acquaintances, so I did not know what to expect,
though I had set up the meeting with him months earlier. To my delight, in
spite of having just come home tired from a trip––which he claimed is going to
be his last, by the way––he had scheduled to spend the whole day with me.
We sat in his office talking over
coffee starting at 9 AM, and pretty much talked straight through lunch, with a
tour of the facilities in between. There are three buildings for the CAC all on
the same long block that also is home to the Albuquerque Catholic Worker and
ends up at the Franciscan parish on the corner, where Richard also lives in a
hermitage on the property for the past twenty years. I gave a presentation, a
mix of music and talking, for the staff––about 40, mostly young people, “the
millennials,” Richard kept calling them. It is rare to have an audience so
deeply engaged and intensely attentive as they were. After the presentation, I
went off campus with Michael Poffenberger, who is the Executive Director of the
CAC. He’s a fascinating bright young millennial himself. A Notre Dame graduate
(who knows our friend Danielle Rose from there), he spent 10 years doing
advocacy and peace-building work in Washington, D.C. as Executive Director for a
non-profit group called Resolve. As the website says, “At Resolve, Michael led
bipartisan coalitions and developed international campaigns to advance policy
change for war-affected communities in Africa. He helped author and win passage
of legislation focused on the prevention of violent atrocities and testified
before both the US Congress and United Nations Security Council.” Richard and
CAC are quite fortunate to have him doing his work of bringing some new
consolidation and organization to the organization. We had a lot to talk about
as well, about that topic as well as about the prophetic voice of contemplative
spirituality in our day and age. The back to the Center and I had another few
hours with Richard through dinner at a local Mexican restaurant. All in all, a
very enriching day that left me hoping that we will have more exchange between
us, me and them, maybe even New Camaldoli and the CAC.
Richard, as many know, has had a
return of his prostate cancer, which is now metastasizing in other parts of his
body. He is doing chemo by way of pills, and is obviously diminished physically
tiring easily, but he is as sharp as ever and in very good spirits. It is not
often that I get to speak to a respected elder such as that, who is looking at
the end of life and looking back at his life’s work. It reminded me to some
extent of my visit with Fr. Thomas Keating in 2017. With what riches am I being
showered!
After that I headed across the
desert to Arizona to start time with my family. I met Mom and Dad in Phoenix
and then accompanied them across the country to Minnesota first. My Mom’s
brother, lives there with his wife and Mom’s sister was also visiting, so this
was a good opportunity for them to have a little reunion. These are my step-relatives
with whom I have not had a lot of contact since I was a teenager. Two of Uncle
Bob’s children showed up one night for dinner and a granddaughter as well.
After a gap of 40 years it was kind of a shock to my system. I must admit that
at times I felt like I needed to get out of the house so “the adults” could
talk, and I did by visiting my friends up at Collegeville, and getting a two
day pass for a nice local gym. Then my sister and her family showed up (they
had been in Boston) and we all drove together to upstate Wisconsin where my
brother-in-law has a cabin on a lake, with another little cabin on the same
property that he let me stay in, while they put Mom and Dad up at a local
conference center. And we had a blast. There is nothing like it, that kind of
family time: fish fry, a boat trip on the lake, endless games of Uno, going to
the movies, yoga class with my sister and nieces, a little music, lots of food.
My dad is really declining and I do not know how many times we will be able to
do this, so it meant a lot to me to be their chaperone.
Then I headed back to Phoenix on
my own, got all my stuff ready, ran a bunch of errands, flew to LA, spent the
night in a noisy cheap hotel room, and then flew off Thursday morning for Rome
via Dallas, where I am writing right now, in a room in the foresteria of San Gregorio Magno right off the Circus Maximus
across from the Roman Forum. I'll write more from here later.
