We use the word “retreat” to capture the Biblical practices of the active waiting, listening and rest before God. The practice of Sabbath resonates as an invitation to retreat. Sabbath is a command to withdraw weekly from productivity so that we might rest in the liberating truth that is God’s care and not our busy striving that sustains our life and the life of all creation.

The Hebrew etymology of Sabbath is simply “Stop!” - still visible at the intersections in the modern Israel. To be unable to stop is a symptom of the hidden conviction that our lives and the lives around us cannot survive apart form our striving. Such compulsion drives God’s children far from their true selves and God himself who is greatly feared and rejected by our false selves. While the false self compels us, we find ourselves resistant to coming apart; “What would happen to the world around us if it were deprived of our care for a moment?” A period of “Stop!”is a sacrificial leap of faith in God’s ability to sustain our life and the life of the world. The offerings of Sabbath can be received anew through retreat.

Jesus Our Example

Jesus, our guide into the recreative space of silence and solitude, began his public ministry only after experiencing a forty day retreat alone in the desert. All throughout his ministry, Jesus both retreated by himself and led his disciples in retreat. During a busy time in ministry, St. Matthew tells us that Jesus, “dismissed the crowd. After he had dismissed them, he went up on a mountainside by himself to pray.” (Matt. 14:23)

These retreats preceded important events in his life: decision making, such as the choosing of the twelve disciples; times of sadness; particularly taxing seasons of service; and times of great trial, as in the Garden of Gethsemanie. St. Mark recounts one such retreat, writing, “Then, because so many people were coming and gong that they did not even have a chance to eat, he said to them, “Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest.” (6:31)

In chapter nine of his gospel, Mark relates, “After six days Jesus took Peter, James and John with him and led them up a high mountain, where they were alone. There he was transfigured before them.” The indication of the 7th day reminds us of Sabbath, and Jesus’ short withdrawal from his active life accompanied by close friends infuses retreat with the hope of transformation. A retreat - a “sabbatical” - is a place where our identity as beloved children of God is revealed and cultivated. This call to retreat is a cool shock of wind that sweeps out of the Bible, through time, and into our homes and offices, whispering, “Child, come away with Me.”

Retreat Invitation

Retreat is not a magic formula by which we inject God into our loves. In retreat, we cup our hands around that flame of love that the Spirit continually hungers to ignite our hearts. Through solitude, silence and prayer we protect that flame from the winds of crowds, noise and hurry which extinguish the fire of divine longing. From Peter and John over wet and tattered fishing nets to Matthew sitting at his office desk like everyday before, the disciples of Jesus each hear this invitation, “Follow me! Come away with me for a time.” (Matt. 4:19)

These ordinary professionals were called away from their busy lives to be present to their Master. What made their ordinary lives extraordinary was their willingness to disconnect from their important business and respond to the great Invitation: “Wake up to the miracle of your life! You were created for a great love.” We are told of others being called who were too caught up in the stream of “life’s worries, riches and pleasures” to hear or respond to Jesus’ call - the rich young ruler among others. Surely those who answered Jesus’ call were not without important business, but their lives were transformed because of their willingness to hazard the important for the ultimate.

Retreat Experience

A retreat for spiritual renewal may seem to many of us like a journey into a bewildering and barren land. We have no compass and doubt the adequacy of our provisions. We may sense a call to pay attention to our souls, but knowing how to make our way in the wilderness causes us to ignore the invitation. However, we know that the desert’s barrenness is deceptive; with just a little water, the desert bursts into fruit and flower.

As we begin to answer the call to retreat, we need someone to accompany us - someone who will remind us that our dryness of heart is teeming with potential for abundant life. We need someone to nourish our faith, telling us, “That dead stick can become a living tree. Keep watering!” No seeker needs to enter the desert alone.