Go Ahead, Retreat…Oh Wait, Don’t

If I didn’t know better, I might think that just about the whole town where I live (for a few more weeks, anyway) has become virulently non-religious.  Why?  Because there are signs popping up all over the place with this exhortation:  “STOP the Retreat!”

A pastor’s wife needs to add a whole slew of new words to the household lexicon – at least I did – and “retreat” is right up there with Most Commonly Heard Episcopal Life Terms (OK, I made that up).   It means, of course, a kind of “time out” from the regular humdrum daily life; an opportunity to pull back in quiet to enable a re-connecting with God or just a renewal of the spirit.   Often it is a solitary activity — or non-activity, but sometimes whole groups of people (vestries from churches, or entire staffs from secular organizations) go on a retreat to focus on particular big picture issues.  I’ve done the one-day kind, with those huge easels up front, through my jobs a couple of times.  Maybe you have, too.

So I know that the whole concept is supposed to be positive.   Early on in our marriage, when there were little ones around needing lots of attention, I admit that I wasn’t always thrilled when I heard about an approaching retreat.  I didn’t really know what went on wherever it was my husband disappeared to for spiritual refreshment (I envisioned the cool stone walls of a monastery and perhaps some chanting) but I did know that the domestic duties would go on just the same for me.  I needed to have faith that he was getting enough benefit for the both of us.

A few months ago, I spent a few days with him (and about a dozen other couples) at the Roslyn Episcopal Conference and Retreat Center in Virginia.  This was different, all right.  We went because we were new bishops and spouses of new bishops, and we needed attention.  I guess, technically, we were in the “conference” rather than the “retreat” category; we sure did plenty of talking, that’s for sure.  I think the main upshot was that we got to know one another at least a little bit so that we could provide support and companionship, even from different parts of the country, going forward in this new life.

Some places with “Retreat” in their name have a mission that goes beyond providing a peaceful place to stay and pray.  Our local radio station reminds us that the Brattleboro Retreat serves a wide array of people struggling with addiction and mental illnesses.  From what little I know about it, I am sure that many lives have been saved through the programs there.  The well-known psychiatric facility known as the Institute of Living, in Hartford, used to be called “The Hartford Retreat for the Insane.”  We don’t often hear the word “asylum” these days, but the pioneers who worked hard in the 19^th century to create places of sanctuary (as opposed to places of imprisonment) for the mentally ill were clearly ahead of their time.

Which brings us, in a certain way, to the thousands of college students living in my hometown.  Those readers who live elsewhere won’t know that the “Stop the Retreat!” signs are all about plans to let an out-of-state development company come in here to a section of North Amherst called Cushman Village, to construct a huge student housing conglomeration:  191 4-bedroom single houses, to be exact – enough to accommodate 700 young adults who are always seeking off-campus options.   Proponents argue that “The Retreat” will go along way to help alleviate the growing pressures that partying and littering and swearing (did anyone say “studying?”) students have been having on single-family neighborhoods around here:  apparently, the site which is being proposed is enough removed from the main residential areas to provide a kind of buffer, not to mention offering up a splendid array of on-site recreational opportunities for students.

Opponents, however, strongly disagree; they argue that not only will 150 acres of precious wildlife habitat be swallowed up, but that the partying activities will just shift their location and that this historic part of town will be forever besmirched.   The group’s website includes this statement: “Isolated students in a mammoth development at the outskirts of town will not solve the town’s student housing problems.”  Judging from the number of signs on lawns in all sections of Amherst, the opposition is growing as fast as the spring grass.  We shall see which powers will prevail.

In the meantime, I just can’t get over that anybody, presumably someone powerful in this company that proudly shows off other sites already built in college towns elsewhere, had the nerve to call a proposed place like this “The Retreat.”

Now I have nothing against college students, having two of my own and all.  But honestly, are we talking about the same word here?  The one that denotes quiet reflection, prayerful meditation, even physical and mental healing?  Pul-eeze. 

In addition to having my whole past 20 plus years as a clergy spouse come gushing back to me as I look at these signs around town, I’m hearing another voice too, the voice of The Boss, offering up yet another version of the same word:

Once we made a promise we swore we’d always remember

No retreat, baby, no surrender

Blood brothers in a stormy night

With a vow to defend

No retreat, baby, no surrender

These guys raising havoc wouldn’t be likely to head to a monastery to collect themselves, or for that matter to any planned community for college students either, preferring to stay forever out roaring on the open road.  You probably want to hear the song now, so be my guest here..

I guess it’s a good thing that I get to read poetry with my students for a couple more weeks, even if they may think I’m a little weird to get so thrilled about a plain old word.   It seems to me, though, that wherever we can find our moments of amazement, our lives will be richer for them.  And, if the moments get too overwhelming, we can always retreat.