As I write this, I am sitting in one of the humble rooms at the Serra Retreat Center on a brief break during the annual Pastors’ Retreat for the Presbytery of Los Ranchos. It sounds like a joke, to refer to this room as “humble,” when this retreat center is located on the top of a mountain in Malibu. There is no end to the irony that Franciscans – who take a vow of poverty – own this property which has to be worth north of $100 million. It was left to them in an estate, so now several Franciscan monks live here and, with a relatively small staff, run the retreat center. The intersection of green and stone throughout the grounds is lovely, the Spanish tilework brings color and geometric symmetry together, and the view of the ocean is spectacular. All of that makes Serra a beautiful spot, but, to me, it is the simplicity of the rooms that makes it a wonderful retreat center. Each room has two single beds, which leave little space for the desk and armoire, along with a sink. I’m fairly sure that the rooms were originally built with only one single bed in mind, since I have to sit on the edge of one bed to type on my computer, because I can’t fit the chair in between them. There is a shared bathroom in between every two rooms, so neighbors have to learn to negotiate that. When we enter, each bed was made with new sheets, etc., by the last person to stay there, so we are to offer a prayer for them. Then, before we leave, we will make the bed with another fresh set of sheets, so they will offer a prayer for us. It is wonderfully unMarriotty.
And yet, it is enough. What a wonderful gift St. Francis and his movement offer to us – to be thankful for enough. Imagine how charitable we could be if we learned well how to be thankful for enough. Instead, we are conditioned to think that our house is fine, but a house a little larger in a bit of a nicer location would be better. Our job is fine, but the trajectory of our career ought always to be on the up and up. Our wardrobe is fine, but if we’re tired of looking at the same outfits over and over, off we go to the store. It all comes quite naturally to us, and we don’t even realize that the presumption of “ever-expanding” is really a learned disposition, not simply the way things are. Enter the Franciscans. There are benches everywhere among the paths and flora, but no television in each room. There are Stations of the Cross, symbols, and statues everywhere to remind us of God’s provision, but no pool, sauna, hot tub, or boutique. And it is enough.
I don’t want to go overboard. Because the room is built for one, yet accommodates two twin beds, the outlets require quite a few undignified contortions to plug in my hearing aid charger or my laptop. And the Franciscans provide Wi-Fi everywhere, a concession to obsession. And there’s Starbucks down at the bottom of the hill. So, we’re not deprived of creaturely comforts. But the simple absence of one or two things, and the mild encouragement to participate in making the center a welcoming space for the next person – those small things awaken me to a whole lot of potential new things that I can do to de-clutter my life and live more intentionally.
Oh my, it sounds like the season of Lent is calling! And it is, starting on Ash Wednesday, February 14. So, I’ll say more about the small changes that awaken us to life next week. I’m supposed to be retreating right now.
In peace,
Mark of St. Mark
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