Coming Clean

aka RETREAAAAAAAAAT!

I went on a retreat last weekend. I left my wife at home with a sick baby boy who basically was at the beginning of a week of the runs. I’d call myself a jerk, but the whole thing was largely her idea. I even was okay with bailing on my refundable payment – but she more or less insisted I go ( … but remember, it was more or less … there was still room for me to bail if I really wanted to).

But I didn’t want to. I wanted to go. I wanted to see if (a) this retreat was worth all the hype I’ve heard and (b) if it could do anything for the spiritual slump I’ve been in for a year plus some.

As to the hype, I can see why there’s the hype. It’s a good retreat, especially for young adults who may be slightly wayward. A number of presenters shared their “wayward” stories – some particularly brutal and hard – and spoke to the awesome power, insight, peace, and struggle of redemption and orthodoxy.

As to soothing the pain of my spiritual slump and perhaps lifting the haze of malaise, I can say that it has brought to light a number of areas in my life that are probably contributing to my paralyzingly mute dissatisfaction. It’s given me some hope in that I have areas I can now firmly address. Among those are (1) I realize now I’ve been bringing work home much more often than I’ve been heretofore aware and (2) I realize that not being among folks who need to share their faith and life makes me pretty much miserable spiritually.

I didn’t learn a whole lot from the talks in themselves. In fact, the first point (bringing work home) I learned during Confession (crazy, huh? but it once again affirms – CONFESSION IS GOOD FOR YOU). The second point I learned from introspection about why I was enjoying myeslf so much during the retreat. No one told me, “You know, Spencer, you’re liking this retreat because we’re sharing with you and you with us.” It was something I became aware of during the mix of it all.

Probably my biggest beef with the weekend (and it’s actually somewhat small, though it has given me a lot to think about) was something I felt was missing. As I kind of summed it up in my survey of the weekend, I wanted a story about “Beaver Cleaver living the life of Captain Saint in a real way that relates to Larry Flint(sic).” (I only now remember that it’s Flynt, with a y.)

A number of the presenters told the rough and tumble stories of their lives – that of a life given to selfishness, gluttony, and near-despair. It’s amazing the tremendous amount of shit (and I only use the profane because, indeed, aspects of their stories in honest and earnest are the very essence of profane) folks go through in order to stand before you and claim Christ as their savior.

And while I appreciate those stories (indeed, they cause much rejoicing, allelujah!!), they present a kind of problem for people who have had incomparable life experiences. On the one hand, we’re all happy that we didn’t have to live that life. On the other hand, we now feel like we’re missing something in our life experience that validates why we’re standing with these people, claiming the same things. It feels like they are claiming something more … or claiming more profoundly.

As a teenager (and even to some extent a young adult), I had two knee jerk reactions to the feelings these stories evoked in me. It caused me to want to play the bad boy and/or re-work the stories of my past experiences so they felt more like the bad boy stories. Both of these reactions are wrong-headed and contrary to the desires the owner of those stories have for us. But when all you hear are stories of shit to redemption, it begins to fuel an inference, even if subconsciously, that you can’t really own your faith, your redemption without the shit.

But I believe there are stories about those who are and have, by and large, always been upright and good, who rescue those mired in the wastelands of sin and despair – and they need to be told . Understanding those stories would go a long way in helping those of us who have treaded only the borderlands of sin and despair our purpose, our ability, and our worth.

The other problem I’m left with is my relationship with these folks – those crawling by the nail-grip out of the wasteland of sin and into a new life. (ooo … I LIKE that description. It’s an original.) The worst that can be said of my life is that I’m a bad boy wanna-be. I’ve done a few things that have hurt people badly, but I haven’t done anything that ruined my or anyone else’s life. I’ve not lived in sin where the many people I become involved with are at risk of harm. Nor should I need to, nor do the bad boys in good faith want me to. But what do I have to offer them? How do I relate to them?

This problem I think I’m coming towards an answer, but I’ve yet to get a full grasp on it. But I’m thinking here of Christ’s death march to Golgotha. More than I can ever know and understand, these folks are working on a real Golgotha path.

Don’t get me wrong, I understand that that their sins are forgiven, but all the same, putting the sins to death in the flesh is a very different matter – we all know this. Sins get a hold in our flesh, our flesh craves and wants, and temptation, it seems, always abounds – to be technical, concupiscence. As Christ destroys those sins before the Father on the cross, we must destroy those sins before the Father in our flesh – again, to be technical, sanctification.

Jesus didn’t walk in agony to the cross alone. He had fellow sufferers: His Mother, Simon, Veronica, the women of Jerusalem. And that is what we’re called to be to each other. I can’t stop the pain and agony of desire and temptation in someone else anymore than Mary, Simon, and the other women could stop Jesus’s crucifixion. But I can suffer with them. I can be with them. I can help shoulder that cross, though that cross is their’s all the same. I can wipe their brow, though they have a longer journey yet to go.

This is something so simple that it’s easy to dismiss or overlook, but the depth of its Truth and Love is infinite. We enter into the mystery of Christ when we emulate the good things of Jesus for His sake. Not only do we show true love, true faith, true devotion … but we enter into the very mission of His existence: to be witness to God and His infinite Love. We are in those moments very much Christians – little Christs.

So, yeah, good weekend. Lots of very positive things to think on and begin doing. You could say that I’m feeling spiritually happy, which I’m not sure I could really say for a long, long time. For those of you who have been praying, thanks.