BOSTON SABBATICAL
We were tramping out on Chestnut Hill, out
around the twin reservoirs they call lakes. Dusk was shifting out of Boston and
the giving massed trees – of which there are plenty in Newton and Chestnut Hill
– that stealth and secrecy which is their pretence at night. Boston College,
with its solid Gothic tower, stood black against the last smoking flame of the
November sunset. We were down in the dark, even in November, with the Gothic
that dominated the hill. One of us caught her breath at the magnificent
silhouette. “That gives me courage,” she said, with her face towards the hill
crest. “Of late I have been melancholy with autumn – a sign of adolescence or
old age. But I couldn’t be melancholy with that above me. Not that I care for
the Gothic, but for what it represents. Sunsets may flare and the blackness of
Hades eclipse the earth, but that will endure.”
That up there was no mere group of
college buildings, but a sanctuary, a hearth and home for a cause that is never
lost, the fireside warmth of enduring friendships and the loveliness of a
garden. Looking at the imposing buildings, so clean and fresh, of Boston
College within such a vast expanse of land, I thought I must make the best of
it by attending as many courses as possible, go back with a heavy load of
academic knowledge, and ship back loads of books as evidence of time and money
well spent. But in the good God’s loving plans for me I got something infinitely
richer: not merely academic information but personal-spiritual enrichment.
Plunged into this diverse group made up of priests, women religious and one
laywoman, hailing from the United States, Australia, New Zealand, Philippines,
England and Ireland, it was refreshing to hear that this was our year to relax
reflect and recreate. My mind and emotions wanted to keep a safe distance from
academic degrees. I wanted wisdom without credits, and my rewards went beyond
all expectations in one of the best years of life. I had
time, space, rest reflection, opportunities for self-understanding and self-care,
occasions for spiritual direction. And I had my God who was most relaxed with
me. I didn’t have to prove anything to Him. I gradually began to realize what
it was to be in human contact with the sabbatical organizers and, indeed, all
the members. Through them I was learning to cope with a God who cares. Now we
could sit back and wonder what the fluster of our life was all about. No one
was alone for we talked about similar things. That was how we came so close to
each other in the colloquium, which was the backbone of the sabbatical. In a
context of sincere truth and loving care we dialogued with each other on
deepening levels of our spirituality and experience of the church. We
discovered to each other our hurts, disappointments, angers, fears about the future,
and transition in our ministry. As we talked, prayed, lived and loved through
the anguish, a great and profound peace began to descend upon our minds and
hearts. Framework and
flexibility. To give me opportunities for expansiveness beyond the sabbatical
circle, divine providence arranged that I should be in St. Lawrence’s parish,
Brookline, - mercifully close to Boston College – in which I discovered and
garnered a wealth of human experience through contact with the parishioners. One
important medium of contact was the liturgy and preaching for which I took some
trouble and which – from what they told me – was heartily appreciated by the
people. Inevitably friendship with the parishioners grew into a wide circle. Many years of priestly
ministry and teaching in schools and seminaries, of traveling over the world
and meeting people of different climes and cultures, and personal interaction
with some people on a more intimate level have enabled me store up a wealth of
intellectual, emotional and spiritual capital. The active programme of the
sabbatical has added to and – what is more – unleashed this accumulated affluence.
Life is about to begin again and, perhaps, its best years are about to be
launched, now with greater self-assurance. The dynamics of the sabbatical have
opened from within the fount of flowing freedom and self-affirmation to care
for myself and to reach out for the up-building of other people. I believe I shall
continue to discover and nurture this inner freedom and power so they work for
my personal expansiveness and in that very movement allow myself to be poured
out into the lives of others so that they too may affirm themselves and grow:
clear, deep and resilient. I am deeply
grateful to the sabbatical and the colloquium but do not feel the need of its
extension for me. I have outlived them and passed the stage of discussion and
the anxiety attaching to it. I may, God willing, go on another after some
years. But for me, this time, there will be no sad goodbyes, no wrenching,
since nothing is lost and lot that has been gained.
Mervyn Carapiet
February 7th. 1990
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