St. Anselm's Abbey

I spent last weekend in Washington DC at a lovely place called St. Anselm's Abbey, a Benedictine monastery and school for young men grades six through twelve.   I was at the abbey to drop off one of my dearest and oldest friends for his journey into a new life of monastic living and ultimately, God willing the priesthood.  The weekend was enchanting and sad at the same time.




The abbey sits on forty or so acres in the north east section of the city. It is serene, secluded and much like Don Bosco College in Newton New Jersey was when attended summer camp there as a boy. The abbey like Don Bosco generated feelings of warmth and happiness in me. As a guest I was set aside from the monks in what had been at one time the original part of the monastery.  My room was simple but comfortable. More than anything, the place is quiet except for the occasional call to prayer which is done by buzzer or bell.


The monks allow guests who visit to do their own thing; I opted to participate in their monastic routine. This meant I was up at six for six twenty prayer, then breakfast, then mass, then midday prayer, then vespers and finally compline.  I didn't get to midday prayer because on Saturday I went to the National Gallery and on Sunday I left after mass.  I felt it was best if I let my friend Brian get on with it and that wasn't going to happen if he had to worry about me or think about me being there on site.


I found the prayers and the ritual lovely. The prayers were responsive and anyone present could participate. So there were cantors and then the choir and congregation responded and most of the prayers were Psalms which by the very nature of the poetry is beautiful.  I was especially struck during morning prayer that we started while outdoors it was night and by the time prayer concluded the sun had arisen. It was a very refreshing way to start a day.


The visit was bittersweet and as I left I felt a profound sense of loss in leaving my friend Brian there.  I think that this calling is going to work for him and I think the Benedictines of St. Anselm's Abbey are where he needs to be.  Brian is a very gentle and old soul and I'm not sure that the twenty first century world was a good place for him.  St. Anselm's offers him a place of silence, a big city for ministry, wonderful men to share the journey with and a lovely surrounding.

I Don't Understand

John with the look. Barcelona 1999

Castle in Ibiza

 

As I stood at the altar of Immaculate Conception Church looking out at our assembled friends while delivering John’s eulogy, I noticed that our friend Brad, sitting next to his partner Thom looked furious.  Interestingly, the more I spoke the angrier he seemed to get and by the end of my fifteen minute remembrance Brad was undone to the point where he couldn’t sit still.  Yet despite his agitation, Brad and Thom showed up after the memorial for the reception at my home and as they departed they promised to stay in touch.

We’d been casual close friends, dinner at one another’s homes, short vacations together to Ocracoke Island for the weekend, pool parties at our place and in the final year of John’s life; before he got sick an amazing European vacation that included renting a castle on the island of Ibiza. Once Johns was sick, I don’t recall Brad and Thom being around much. They visited when John had turned for the worst and was comatose in the hospital. In his final weeks at home they didn’t stop by until the night he died, then Brad came alone, perhaps Thom was traveling.

In between Spain and John being diagnosed with lymphoma; we had separated. The stress of renovating a one hundred year old home, building a business, John’s travel schedule and mutual immaturity and changing life perspectives had driven us apart.  Perhaps on some level John knew that he was sick and needed me to leave for a while so that we’d be strong for the fight for his life. There is a photo of John in Barcelona where he looks aware of something coming down the pike.  This is an assumption. It’s something that John and I never talked about. We just hadn’t had time. When he and I separated I was ready to move on for good.  I think John was ready too; he’d started courting a housemate of Brad and Thom’s; I imagine if John had lived that courtship might have gone somewhere.

Brad and Thom had decided during my separation from John, who they'd remain friends with. It wasn’t me.  That was ok too, they had been friends with John first and although we got along. I’d always been a little mistrustful of them.  Brad especially had an acidic tongue and wouldn’t bat an eye when it came to dissing or gossiping; even if the brunt were his closes friends or even his partner.  He tended to present as queen bee which is rather ironic because Thom was the steady earner as a scientist. Brad was an artist, very capable but not really driven.  John and Thom were close because they’d worked together. I was the accidental and disposable friend because I was sleeping with John. When that ended so did the friendship in their eyes.

So at the memorial service Brad was furious and then in the heart wrenching years after John died, when I really needed friends, I heard nothing. No cards, no phone calls, no emails, nothing.  It wasn’t until we ran into one another by happenstance years later that the light bulb went on for me. I’d gone out to a bar with some friends, something I just don’t do anymore and Brad and Thom were there. Being adult and in the company of one another we spoke and I was told that they weren’t mad at me.  I found that proclamation odd.  The years of silence meant something right? There was anger and now it had been articulated, but what was it?

I suppose John could have vented to them about all that had gone wrong between us and my verbal painting at the eulogy was rather idealistic and contrary to the reality of our split up. Silly me, but it just didn’t seem appropriate at John’s funeral to go into the details of our split up and all that had gone wrong in our life together. After all he’d just lost his life. I suppose that Brad and Thom expected to participate in John’s service and they weren’t asked.  I included people who were within my line of site at the time.  

In the end, I’ll never know what the answer is. They aren’t part of my life, my true friends are close and have remained close; still it would have been nice to have a few more people around who knew and remember John. It would be nice to have more people close at hand who could reflect and remember aspects of a great guy seen through the kaleidoscope of their perceptions.

Bull's Head Inn

Bull’s Head Inn

It really is amazing how the decades can fade away. This Sunday after Nana’s 100th birthday party I drove up to Goshen New York to have dinner with two high school friends. The day was lovely; the drive-through northeastern New Jersey was amazing. The mountains were pretty, the sky uncommonly clear and the colors crisp. As I drove I thought if I had found this before moving to North Carolina I would've moved here. The New York Thruway was equally beautiful and the town of Washingtonville New York a delight. Washingtonville looks like one of those miniature Christmas villages, idealistic, serene, neat and warm.

The Bull’s Head Inn was equally charming, nestled on a gentle rise, along a country road outside of Goshen. My friend Beth and I arrived at the same time and we retired inside to wait for our friend Sheryl to show up. Beth and I sat at the bar drinking soda and talking and starting to catch up. I gave her little snippets from my grandmother's birthday party, from work and from life in general and she did the same. The bar was absolutely stunning, with the picture window beyond the bottles and a view of the meadow. The top of the bar was copper which I found to be amazing.

Sherryl showed up at about 5:10 and she looked like she had just stepped out of high school 30 years ago. Truthfully, so does Beth; I'm not sure the same could be said about me. So Sherryl showed and we were directed to our table. We had a private corner in the public dining room and we were the only people in that room.

The atmosphere was wonderful, the food was perfect and the nearly 5 hours of conversation was fluid, warm and engaging. I was struck then and am struck now by how easily the decades with these two fine women just melt away. As we talked, we rediscovered very keen and specific shared values; interestingly enough, and even though life had taken us in very different directions the three of us rediscovered that we felt the same way about a variety of issues. All three of us are concerned about the deterioration of manners in our society, the venom that embodies the body politic and the overall disregard for the disenfranchised within our society.

Of course we spoke about our families and what had been going on in our personal lives and that was wonderful. It sure is nice to know that people who I care so much for are doing real well in the end. Of course their lives are not ideal no one’s life is. My own life included. My one wish and my one take away from this evening is that we don't wait 10 more years before we see each other again; but if we do I'm not concerned because I know that my friends are there.

Sin and Forgiveness

If you forgive those who sin against you, your heavenly Father will forgive you. But if you refuse to forgive others, your Father will not forgive your sins.Matthew 6:14-15

Sin and Forgiveness

One of my very best, albeit most difficult friends in the world truly has issues with forgiveness, I might even go onto say that she doesn’t even have a clue as to how to forgive. This could be said of herself first and then those with which she interacts. Unfortunately, I see this cycle of behavior as being very self destructive and venomous to her. Furthermore, I am ill prepared because of our close relationship to help her out of where she is.

For several years I have attempted to help my friend find her way. As my faith journey began it was aid offered first in conversations of grace, love, joy and forgiveness. However, the longer these conversations went on the more intractable she became toward the topics and the more frustrated I became with her claims that she couldn’t change because she was too old and had too much invested in this cycle of behavior. The truth is that she refuses to change; she has made a choice not to change. I think this is because her anger and bitterness are her snug harbor and safe haven. They consume and envelop her; they are a poisonous security blanket. They color each and every aspect of her life and all interactions that she has with other people. The anger and bitterness she cleaves to are so comfortable to her that I believe she can’t even recognize them.

The sad reality of this anger and bitterness is; she through her words and actions and victim mentality has driven every close friend, partner or spouse away from her. Her anger has colored her relations with family too. Now because of my very close relationship with this woman; I find myself driven away too. So, I’m in mourning to a degree. The mourning of this relationship is very different from the other relationships that I’ve lost because the evolution of this death is not complete. I’m plagued now with doubt and worry. I see my friend moving away from me, something that I now see that she’s wanted for a very long time and my desire not to let her leave has created an abundance of tension for both of us.

So, today while praying on this situation, I came to this verse in Matthew.

If you forgive those who sin against you, your heavenly Father will forgive you. But if you refuse to forgive others, your Father will not forgive your sins.Matthew 6:14-15

I hold that one can substitute the word, wound or hurt or insult or slight for the word sin. I think as a person of faith and a believer in Christ and Christ’s path that I must do this. I have attempted to do so in all instances. This as it turns has been one of the wedges driving between my friend and me. What drew us together initially was the fact that at our core we are fundamentally damaged people. We could stand outside work and smoke, and complain and suck the flavor out of any joyous situation we to delight in not forgiving others and discussed this openly. In common we had a thread of negativity so thick it couldn’t be cut with a sword. In reflection I know this now about myself, years ago my father said to me that he thought I enjoyed being angry. At the time I was furious with him…isn’t that all too telling. I can now smile when I think about how brave dad was to say that to me.

I made a decision not to be an angry person. I made a decision to say to myself each day that God would do something miraculous in my life and that I would find a way to love people even with their flaws and shortcomings. I thought that I could love my friend out of her place. I couldn’t and I’ve failed so far. The endless hours of prayer and conversation haven’t worked and we’re separating on a temporary and part time basis. I’m not so naïve to think that our separation is temporary or part time, I see it as the first step to a permanent parting of the ways. I’m not scared about where I’m going. I have a focus and clarity. I fear for my friend because she’s admitted to me that she doesn’t know what the next phase of her life will look like. I hope that she can figure it out.