Northeastern Seminary Women's Retreat

16 women. Some of us know each other, some don’t know anyone. We all have at least two things in common: we are women affiliated with Northeastern Seminary in some way – student, faculty, spouse of student, friend, alumnae; we have a deep desire to serve God despite a sense of inadequacy. So we reluctantly set aside our hefty, hectic schedules and head to the Abbey of the Genesee to seek God’s grace.

For me, it is less than an hour’s drive south on 390, a short meander through the picturesque city of Geneseo and a few more miles on Route 63 to Piffard (pronounced pfard by natives). Left on River Road and soon the dark brown, peaked A-frame roof of the Abbey rises to the left. I drive past, continuing beyond Nazareth and Bethlehem (retreat houses), and crunch my way up the gravelly drive of Bethany House.

Bethany House is a small three story country home that sits back off the road. It sports a red garage-barn and spacious green lawns. One step inside the back door brings you to a welcoming sun porch where you immediately feel at home. The entire place, while not ritzy, has a simple, hospitable, comfortable ambiance that invites you to take a deep breath and relax. Such relief alone is enough to come for!

Soon you are greeted by your fellow retreatants. The excitement reminds me of Thanksgiving dinner at Gram’s house. Everyone is talking, hugging, catching up, introducing themselves to newcomers, helping you find your space and unpack your stuff. You feel like a novice pledging at an elite sorority – intimidated and overjoyed and not a little nervous about what to expect.

Dinner comes and goes in a whirl of soup and monk’s bread and goodies shared around a huge dining room table, and then off to the monastery for Compline and Psalm chanting with robed monks, incense and mysterious silence. Exhausted, we gather in the living room, plop down in overstuffed chairs and couches and settle in. After introductions all around, we indulge in a bit of Psalm singing ourselves, discovering traditions not all of us have experienced. Then our retreat leaders introduce our topic of the weekend: Carrying Light Into the Darkness.

We gnaw on that bone a bit, realizing the depth with which we will wrestle not just this weekend but throughout our lives. Serious stuff. There are no glib answers. We discover a kinship with Mother Theresa in our struggles. After cookies and conversation, we drift off to bed, our way lighted by a shining moon and the soft coo of a mourning dove.

Too soon our dreams are interrupted by the glare of daylight and we rise to steaming stacks of pancakes and hot coffee. We gather throughout the day to sing Psalms and wrestle with our callings, with our own pain, with our questions, with our hurts, with our insights.

We nurture each other as God envelops us in his presence. It is safe to say the hard things here. We can explore the thorny jolts life has tossed in our paths. We can cry. We can explore. We hear each other. We pray with each other. We acknowledge the commonality among women of faith. It is good to discover that we are not alone. We are community. We are the body of Christ broken, yet in the process of resurrection. We are learning how to share with others this incredible Light that has touched us, this Light of the world who loves us so uniquely, so deeply.

At end of day, we pack our things, incredulous that the time has flown so quickly, reticent to leave this mountaintop where we have met Christ, wanting to say with Peter “It’s good for us to be here. Let’s put up a shelter and stay.” But we know we cannot. The world calls us back to the nitty-gritty of papers and reading, of ministry and listening, of being God’s light to the hurting and dying.

We will remember this time. We will treasure it in our hearts. We will return to our conversations again and again as we walk forward, mindful now of our sisters with whom we have worshiped. Always this bond will tie us to each other. And if we are extraordinarily blessed, we will return next year to meet God once again in the midst of our busy lives to receive another dollop of his goodness and grace.