Flashback to 2019, Christ in the Desert

 I'm reposting from Dec. 2019 a memory from the early 80s. I was reminded (re-reminded?) of this memory the other day as I received in the mail a newsletter from Assumption Abbey, Richardton, ND--a refuge I stayed at on my cross-country bike trip. The brothers were very welcoming despite it being a pandemic. I felt a great affinity for them and their work. I've continued to financially support the Abbey and love receiving their newsletter.

Monastery Christ in the Desert

Nearly 40 years ago I went to visit my sister who was spending her Christmas break at Ghost Ranch, a Presbyterian conference center outside of Taos, New Mexico. She had spent time working there as part of the college staff the summer before. Soon after arriving we grabbed snowshoes off some pegs and trudged back into Box Canyon where our voices echoed off the icy walls. During the long twilight, we slowly made our way back to the house following a trail of twinkling lights, like sparkling crystals in the haloed atmosphere. After a quick cup of hot chocolate we bounded into the back of a pickup truck and set out over gravel and blacktop roads.

I had no idea where. It was Christmas Eve.

We arrived in pitch darkness at a monastery lit by candlelight. The small chapel was packed. I can still recall the smell of wet wool coats and candlewax. The monks began to chant Noël in Latin. A drowsiness descended upon me.

Suddenly I was awakened when the mass was over and both Benedictines and congregants moved toward a vestry for homemade wheat bread, butter, and honey. There might have been jams.

It was after midnight when we left. I remember looking up at the starry sky, piercing points of light, guiding our pickup back to the Ranch. I was warm beneath the blankets; my heart bursting.