Sunday, August 4, 2019

the path of descent

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 Rohr

The 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.