20 April 2010

All the Trees of the Forest Sing for Joy

This past Saturday, Sandy and I enjoyed an outing with three of our colleagues from the international faculty. We traveled together to Gyeongju, the ancient capital city of Korea, and Bulguksa, a monastery that is nestled up in the mountains above Gyeongju. The cherry blossoms were at their height and many of the other trees and shrubs were beginning to show their many hues of new-growth green.
Cherry trees fill the hillside along the pathway up to the entrance of Bulguksa.
Just inside Bulguksa's main gate, we come to a lovely mountain pond.  The newly constructed monastery enclave can be seen in the background above the stone bridge.
Here's a close-up of the cherry blossoms with the new-growth of green leaves beginning to unfold.


As we walk along the path that encircles the garden pond, we can look back toward the monastery gate.

Another stone bridge leads over a slow-flowing, spring-fed stream that trickles down the mountain and fills the pond.

More cherry trees surround the monastery's 10-foot tall bell suspended in the center of this structure. The bell's low-tones mark the hours of prayer.  The entrance to the old monastic enclave can be seen along the left side of the photo.

This is the most popular perspective on the ascending stairs to the main temple enclosure.  The second stairway (in the distance) is called "The Stairway to Heaven."

Here we are with Lynn & Debi in front of one of the other temple buildings.  Lynn's husband Roy took the photo.


Then shall all the trees of the forest sing for joy before the Lord. ~ Psalm 96:12-13



Taciturnitas

Dennis Okholm, a professor at Azusa Pacific University, wrote a wonderful little book entitled Monk Habits for Everyday People.  The subtitle particularly caught my attention: "Benedictine Spirituality for Protestants."  Ever since my wife and I had the opportunity to participate in a retreat at the Pecos Benedictine Monastery in New Mexico nearly five years ago, I have been increasingly interested in the lessons I can learn from this tradition. 

Prof. Okholm's book makes those lessons very accessible.  For example, take this story from Okholm's own efforts to practice one of the disciplines taught by St. Benedict in his Rule, the discipline of taciturnitas.

"Recently, on an Ash Wednesday, I was encouraging students to think of one deficiency in their lives that they could attack with a spiritual discipline during Lent.  Never afraid to barge in where uninvited, a member of the class in the back row (the source of much consternation for college professors) asked, 'What deficiency are you going to attack?'"

"I had to be honest, so I answered, 'Actually I've got several, and I need to decide on one by the beginning of the first full week of Lent.  I'll let you know.'  But I knew what it would be, and , true to my word, I soon announced to the class that I needed to learn to listen better to others, so I would be attempting to talk much less in some small study groups of which I was a part."

“What I attempted – with a mixed degree of success – was what Benedict insists upon all the time for his monks in . . . the Rule – namely, restraint of speech. He does not command silence (silentium) but restraint (taciturnitas), because sometimes silence can be a bad thing, such as when someone needs help with directions or counsel . . . When a monk speaks, he should do so gently, seriously, briefly, and reasonably.”

Beside the advice from scripture that he cites (Ps. 39:1-2; Prov. 10:19; 18:21), why would Benedict be so concerned with a topic about which we hear so little in the church? Michael Casey answers with a litany of possible dangers of talk: ‘It restricts our capacity to listen; it banishes mindfulness and opens the door to distraction and escapism."

"Talking too much often convinces us of the correctness of our own conclusions and leads some into thinking they are wise. It can be a subtle exercise in arrogance and superiority. Often patterns of dependence, manipulation, and dominance are established and maintained by the medium of speech . . . . So if we want to grow in grace, we must learn to talk less and listen more.” (pp. 43-45).

Wise instruction worth my careful attention and adherence.