Solitude – A Conversation with Thomas Merton
In mid-June of 2019, Denise and I went on an Ignatian silent retreat at the Jesuit College (Springhill) in Mobile, Alabama. It was almost two years after my mom died and just over a year since her mom died. We were in desperate need of some time to simply “be still” with God. As we entered into the silence of the retreat I found solitude and comfort in the chapel and this particular portrayal of Mary spoke to my heart. The artist used a Springhill student as her model when she painted this portrait and there was something in her gaze that drew me into the silence of contemplation. Even today I still go back in my mind to simply be still in Mary’s presence and feel her loving presence in my heart.
Since our silent retreat we have experienced the pandemic’s isolation, moving in the midst of that pandemic, the death of more family members and friends, and another move after a Sabbath break in ministry. While the pandemic offered some folks “retreat” and “quiet” time, it offered Denise and me ninety-hour work-weeks and exhaustion as we rethought ministry and how to be the church in a pandemic world. I believe we are still recovering from the pandemic experience and really need to make time for another silent retreat.
A few years later, from a distance (with a fair amount of travel) we are caring for and walking with my dad through the valley of the shadow of dementia. It is especially difficult as he continues to grieve the loss of his wife (this past March 11th they would have celebrated their 70th wedding anniversary). His loneliness is something I cannot begin to imagine. I know how much I miss her but it hurts my heart to see how much Dad misses mom who died a few months before their 65th anniversary. This isn’t an experience of solitude, it is the lonely path of mourning one whom you loved deeply that is complicated by dementia.
Interestingly enough, the entry for April 13th from A Year with Thomas Merton: Daily Meditations from His Journals (p. 159) struck close to home for me: One thing has suddenly hit me—that nothing counts except love; that a solitude that is not simply the wide-openness of love and freedom is nothing. Love and solitude are the one ground of true maturity and freedom. Solitude that is just solitude and nothing else (i.e., excludes everything else but solitude) is worthless. True solitude embraces everything, for it is the fullness of love that rejects nothing and no one, and is open to All in All. (April 14, 1966, Learning to Love: Exploring Solitude and Freedom, p. 40)
True solitude embraces everything, for it is the fullness of love that rejects nothing and no one, and is open to All in All. Wow! As I observe the cracks and fissures that continue to deepen in our nation and world, I am drawn to his words with a special urgency. In a world where division and fear seem to dominate the headlines, we need to be sharing a message of unity, love, and openness. Will you join me in this journey, dear reader?
Pastor Michael Moore's Blog 
“As I observe the cracks and fissures that continue to deepen in our nation and world, I am drawn to his words with a special urgency.”
Thank you for the invitation to see these divisions as opportunities to see that wide-openness of love that is present even when I fail to see it.
And equally important, to be that love.
It was really difficult when my mom was in the last year of dementia. She had forgotten that my dad died many years earlier and kept wondering where he was. At first I would take her through the whole story, reminding her that he had been sick and in a VA home and that he had died. She would startle with the news. It was like losing him all over again. At the end, I started telling her, that my dad would be there if he could, which seemed to comfort her. May you find all the grace you need as you walk with your father on this journey.
We don’t disagree with or correct his stories… it’s about grace and love. Thank you, Shirley 💖