The Longing for Simplicity

I have always had a longing for the simplicity of monastic life; a life devoted to prayer and service to God. The simplicity of a life scheduled around prayer, worship, solitude, and service, without much excess. A life of simplicity.

Simplicity: as I was sitting by the lake at the monastery, I heard the sounds of nature around me, yet there was a comforting stillness in this place. I realized I really enjoy this peaceful setting and remembered that I actually have such a place on my back porch that harbors a quiet, natural setting that I really ought to sit and enjoy the peacefulness of my backyard more often than I do currently.

Simplicity: a simple meal - soup and salad - eaten in silence. In this monastery, eating in the silent dining room, dwelling on God as the monastic chants played from the stereo tuning my heart, thoughts and prayers to God. I take for granted the time I have to pray and enjoy a simple meal in my own home. Too often I get on the computer or hurriedly eat standing up, but there is something restful about communing with the Lord as I partake of the daily food and His provision for my life.

Simplicity: the simplicity of saying the name of Jesus over and over again - always returning my thoughts back to the name of Jesus as one of the monks mentioned. In Nouwen's book "Reaching Out," he tells of a pilgrim who learned the Jesus prayer, "Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me." Over and over the pilgrim constantly repeats this simple prayer, as a breath, to open the man's heart to Jesus and come to Him as a sinner crying out for mercy and acknowledging His lordship in the man's life. Simple prayers - even in Matthew, which I read during my stay at the monastery, Jesus says "And when you pray, do not keep on babbling like pagans" (Matthew 6:7, NIV). Then he teaches his disciples the Lord's prayer: simple, yet to the point. The simplicity of every moment and thought turning back to Jesus. Simple prayers expressing the deep yearnings of the heart.

Simplicity: singing the chant-like songs with the monks five times a day. They sing through the psalms, read scripture together, pray together, and continue to dedicate their lives and their time to the Lord. There was no harmony and only on occasion an organ accompanying the simple tunes that declared the power of the Lord and praised His name. Sometimes in the simplicity of these monks' songs, the focus turned off the music and turned onto the words being declared in these Psalms, tuning my heart to praise God in simplicity.

Simplicity: sitting in the beautiful courtyard alone, soaking in His presence, listening to the songs of birds and watching the leaves gracefully descend from the trees; distracted by a wandering goose, turning my thoughts back to the Lord again; reveling in the damp and quiet of the place after a light morning shower, nothing but birds' songs and the faint drip of excess water on leaves falling to earth; soaking up the freshness of God's creation. Then sitting on a bench under a tree as a storm rolled in, feeling God's power in the wind. Invigorating. Refreshing. Hearing the wind die down and watching the rains come peacefully as God replenished the earth. I love the simplicity of reading, praying, and listening to God as I see and hear the work of His hands in creation.

Simplicity: the simplicity of having very little. There is really very little on which we humans must live. Two times in my own reading and once in a reading of scripture during the morning service on the third day, came the story of Jesus sending out the disciples. He sends them out carrying very little to nothing, expecting that they will be provided for by people in the towns to which they travel. He knows the Lord will provide for them through the generosity of others or by other means. In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus also urges those listening to not worry about food and clothing, but instead to seek the Kingdom of God, for the Lord will provide the rest. I have found God's provision to be so steadfast in my life, yet I hold on to many unnecessary things. As I return from the monastery, I feel the need to cleanse my life of those things in excess and live more simply on what is truly necessary in life.

There is freedom that comes with this kind of monastic simplicity. In this state of simplicity, I feel closer to the Lord. The distractions are fewer and my soul so quiet that I feel I can hear the voice of the Lord more clearly than in the normal every day tasks of life. As I reflect now on this time of peace and solitude, I long for such peace in my life, so I aim to take steps to simplify my life, continue to seek the Lord's will through prayer, and take time to enjoy those times of quiet solitude in order that I may hear His voice.

I will try to live in simplicity. Simple food. Simple clothing. Simple settings. Simple prayers. Listening for the Word of the Lord.

Three Walks

Walk One

I went with a friend to the Wallen See (a lake in Switzerland). We went walking along the coast of the lake with the lake below us and the mountains and green hills all around us. It was a pleasant walk, as we caught up on each other's lives over the last two years. At one point along the path we had to go through a cave of sorts (really more like a tunnel made out of the mountain). It was dark and damp inside and in one spot we had to put up the umbrella to avoid the constant dripping in the middle of the tunnel. My friend showed me a spot in the tunnel that opens up to the lake where he and his friends jump down a good distance into the water when they go swimming in the summer. The air was damp as we walked outside again and the wind cool, but the pace was brisk and we kept warm as we went along. We passed a large tall waterfall plummeting into the side of the mountain leading into the lake. We could feel the mist rising up from the waterfall. It was beautifully powerful with the excess water from the consistent rainfall over the previous days adding to its strength. We walked on, heading up a hill to a traditional Swiss chalet that now served as a restaurant and hotel. The outside was made of dark wood and red flowers grew on the window sills. We also saw huge, colorful roosters in the hen house next door. Inside there were many old paintings and photographs and an old tile fire place testifying to the years of history lived within those walls. My friend had coffee and I had tea as we rested from the climb to the chalet. Then we headed back along the shore enjoying the view around us and the finish to a pleasant walk with a friend.

Walk Two

It was the night before my father left, so Hannah, my dad, and I headed out after supper to walk to Lichtenstein, which was right across the Rhine. It was wonderful to walk together; talking, laughing and taking pictures. The sky was beginning its colorful dance into the dark of night. We passed through the town and crossed the bridge over the Rhine, stopping to take pictures of us standing in two countries at once, for the Rhine was the divider of Switzerland and Lichtenstein. One of the castles in Lichtenstein was illuminated, standing proud in the ever-darkening evening. We walked along the Rhine on the Lichtenstein side, all the while enjoying each other's company and taking photos of the mountains that surrounded us and the river that ran beside us. We crossed over a different bridge back into Switzerland, then rested on a bench, silently sitting together in the approaching darkness, treasuring this time before we had to part ways in the morning. Finally we got up and headed back through the town, thankful for the special walk we were able to share together.

Walk Three

After lunch, my grandfather, Opa, asked me if I wanted to go on a walk with him and my cousin Luis. I agreed, since it was my last day in the country and I wanted to spend some more time with him. We met at the bus stop around two and took the bus up the mountain to a town called Oberschaan. Opa then led us inside a small building which housed a red, self-run cable car. I had never seen one that was self-run before. We got in, closed the door, and Opa pushed the green button that pointed up, and off it went at a slow steady pace up the mountain. We rode over plush green fields, cows, and farm houses as the town of Oberschaan became very small below us. Finally we reached the top and the red cable car slowly glided into the station with fine-tuned precision. We got out of the cable car and Opa put money into a machine that spit out coins that would let us out of the station through a full height turnstile. The air was noticeably cooler at this altitude, but I knew the walk would warm us up. Towards the beginning of the walk we came upon a little playground called Heidi’s Land (the real Heidi-land – yes it is a true story and a real place – is actually a few towns over). There were large, carved figures of Heidi, Peter, and her grandfather, and a miniature cabin, which Luis, who is four, enjoyed climbing in. We stopped to let Luis play a while and have a snack of pears and chocolate, then we were on our way down the mountain to Oberschaan. It was so peaceful walking with Opa in the woods, seeing the mountain ranges over the trees that were looking down at us as we walked down the path. He pointed out trees whose roots had grown around and sometimes through these huge rocks in the side of the mountain; truly a phenomenon of nature. Luis was fascinated by the wild mini strawberries growing by the side of the path. He proceeded to pick and eat them with Opa’s permission. As we came out of the wooded area, we looked upon green fields, farm houses, and the towns below. Every where I looked I wanted to capture with my camera. It was breathtaking. We passed a stream, more fields and farms, some cows, and the pool that my grandfather and his friends used to walk up to and swim in as teenagers in the summer; all the while the town of Oberschaan grew larger in our sight. After a brief rest at a bench under a tree and an intake of more chocolate, we descended into the town of Oberschaan and waited for the bus to take us home. I was glad to have this time with my grandfather and will treasure always the walk through the land in which he grew up.

Cousin Time

I spent a fair amount of time with some of my cousins during my visit. Here are some of the memories that I have of my time with them.

• Playing with my little cousin Luis (4) with his tractors - he forever wanted to be "cutting" hay, because that is what the farmers around the town were doing at the time.

• Singing together with Aaron, Zippora, Hannah and a well played ukulele

• Walking around St. Gallen with Eveline, having a delicious lunch with her, seeing her very cool top floor apartment with a balcony and an excellent view right in the city, and going to see her work place where she is a programmer for a big bank in Switzerland

• Hearing Aaron and Jonathan play piano, drums and the ukulele and sing at a restaurant called Wilson, where I ate kangaroo and ostrich (very good by the way) and hung out with my aunt, uncle , Zippora and Hannah. Among the songs they played was a variation on "Sweet Home Alabama" called "Sweet Home Shaffhuse" (the town in which they live)

• Sitting in the kitchen and talking late at night with Res, Vroni, Zippora, Aaron, Angela, Joni, Benni, and Hannah

• Gallivanting around Shaffhausen with my cousin Zippora and Hannah, eating ice cream, doing a mini photo shoot by the Rhine, and looking at the lovely buildings and shops around the town

• Playing the dice game with my cousin Tobias, where he thoroughly beat us twice even though it was his first time playing that game
  

It was a grand time with all and it was very nice to catch up with some of my cousins again.