Experiencing Shalom at a Silent Ignatian Retreat
How Silence, Stillness, and the Gift of Confession Transformed My Soul.
Last year, the blessing I wanted most was feeling God’s presence.
I remember talking with my counselor at the beginning of 2024 and telling her I had bought Dallas Willard's The Spirit of the Disciplines. It was a New Year, and studying the spiritual disciplines seemed a logical next step for my annual January 1 energy (if you’re an Enneagram 1, you know).
“It is less a matter of searching for God than allowing oneself to be found by God in all situations.”
- Peter Hans Kolvenbach SJ
My counselor, twenty years my elder, looked at me with eyes of love and encouraged me to take a different direction for the New Year.
“I hesitate to give you homework, but if I could give you homework for the New Year, I’d tell you to read Towards Rest. It’s a beautiful little book by Alabaster Co. The photography is stunning, and the message is what I hope you take into the new year. I encourage you to consider resting in God. Willard is wonderful, but it can be a lot to process. If I’d choose a book for you this season, it’d be Towards Rest.”
“In God’s rest, we are liberated to be who we truly are.
We are human.
We have limits.
We are vulnerable.
Though we try to be superhuman, we will always ultimately fail. And that is okay. We can do our work with gratitude and humility, knowing that it does not define our value. Only God’s everlasting love defines us. Our fragile existence is held firmly in the center of God’s hands.”
-Towards Rest
To date, this is the *only* homework my counselor has ever given me. Only God (and the Spirit through my counselor) could turn the struggle I experienced in 2023 into peace through rest, silence, and stillness in 2024.
I realize this probably isn’t the motivational speech you were expecting in January.
“The LORD is a shelter for the oppressed, a refuge in times of trouble. Those who know your name trust in you, for you, O LORD, do not abandon those who search for you.”
-Psalm 9:9-10
By beginning the year with rest as my aim, throughout 2024, I became more open to silence, stillness, and prayer. My schedule, and as a result, my soul, shifted in ways I could never have experienced before.
So by the time I received the email announcing the opportunity to do a silent retreat, I was prepared for a weekend of silence. Last week, I explained the why and what of the retreat, but I didn’t cover much of the actual experience.
What did I take away?
Would I do it again?
What was my first confession like?
When I registered for the retreat, I hadn’t planned on participating in the Catholic Sacrament of Reconciliation (aka Confession).
However, I’m nothing if not curious.
So when I met with Lori, the retreat leader for Spiritual Direction, I asked if it would be okay for me to go to Confession. Lori gave her blessing and encouraged me to do so.
“Go to Confession! Father Bob is fantastic!”
That was all it took.
I headed to the Chapel and sat in the line of several women waiting for Father Bob. It was utterly silent in the Chapel. I waited for an hour. One gift of the retreat was that I had nowhere else I needed to go and nothing else I needed to do but pray, journal, and wait. I had turned my phone off and left it in my room at the center's advice. So, I waited. It dawned on me that if I had been at home attempting this, I would have abandoned ship. Real-life tugs at available time and drives us toward duties. In this instance, though, time seemed irrelevant.
When the woman in front of me emerged from her confession, she returned to the Chapel and nodded at me, indicating it was my turn. I walked toward the space and found Father Bob sitting in a cozy room instead of a confessional booth like I’d seen in movies. It looked very comfortable and reminded me of a counseling office. Father Bob was in one of the four chairs circling a table holding Kleenex.
“Hi…do I shut the door or leave it open?” I asked, one hand on the door.
“Yes, shut it unless you want it broadcast out there,” Father Bob said, motioning to the Chapel with a sly smile.
“This is my first Confession. I’m not Catholic, so I have no idea what I’m doing.” I laughed at myself as I admitted my ignorance.
“Come in! Welcome. Are you Christian?”
“Yes, Protestant.”
“Ah! There’s not so much difference between Catholics and Protestants. The Catholics could learn a thing or two from you all. For one, your liturgy and music is in English!” We laughed together, melting my hesitation.
Father Bob continued by sharing a joke about the formality of Catholicism, and by the time he was done, I was comfortable.
The conversation shifted and he explained the purpose of confession.
“What we talk about here is sin. Sin is anything between God and us. Sin is any harm to myself, God, others, or the Earth.”
I nodded in understanding. I appreciated the succinct explanation.
“Some people come in here, and they feel a need to describe every single little thing they’ve ever done wrong. You don’t have to do that. What you say will stay here.”
I started to describe the various things weighing on my soul. He nodded knowingly, like he had heard it all before. At one point, he drew my attention to the setting sun pouring through the window.
He had some additional suggestions, and he said it was wise that I had already taken my thoughts to God. In a peak confession moment, Father Bob gave me two thumbs up.
“Have you ever climbed a ladder?” He asked.
“Of course.”
“As you’re climbing up the ladder, you have to let go of the lower rungs to move up the ladder. There’s nothing wrong with the lower rungs; they are quite nice, and in fact, they are necessary to get to the higher rungs. If you continue to hold on, though, you will get stuck. You need to let it go. Forgive your younger self. Have you forgiven your younger self?”
“I think so, but I guess I don’t know.” Tears began to trickle down my cheeks as we talked.
He prayed release and absolution over me, and then I was free.
After about 30 minutes, I left his office. As I walked outside, I felt lighter. Something had shifted in my soul.
I returned to my room and journaled before my final silent dinner.
The next day, at lunch, when the silence lifted, the women at my table were eager to discuss the retreat experience. Almost immediately, one of them said, “Can you believe Father Bob Dufford was the Priest? What a gift to be able to sing with him!” Many nodded in excitement and recognition, but I did not get the reference.
Done holding back, I chimed in: “What am I missing about Father Bob? I’m not Catholic, so I have no idea who he is.” Surprise and delight registered on several faces.
“He is a famous musician! He wrote many songs, including well-known hymns! He wrote ‘Be Not Afraid,’ and he has several others you may recognize! He was like a Catholic celebrity in the 90s!”
“Oh really?! I’m so glad I didn’t know that before I did confession with him yesterday!”
(Sidenote: not knowing that Father Bob was a famous musician prior to my confession was another instance of God’s grace. A former President named ‘Be Not Afraid’ as one of his favorite hymns, and it was played the morning of his inauguration. There’s no way I would have spilled my guts to Father Bob had I known his notoriety in Catholic circles.)
A woman at the table looked at me, shocked. “You did confession? I’m a lifelong Catholic, and I avoid confession. I get so nervous.”
“I guess that’s the advantage of not having a clue! He was very kind. It was a good experience, and I’m glad I went.”
“I come that they may have life and have it abundantly.”
-John 10:10
The retreat was the refuge I needed from life after the last decade. It was the perfect start to my 40th year and this new decade. When I came home and tried to summarize the experience for friends, I compared it to having done a “factory reset.”
The weekend of silence restored me to my original settings. The gift of the retreat was that I searched, found, and experienced God’s perfect love.
The walks in the woods, time spent in prayer, and the nourishing meals shifted something in my nervous system. When I got home, my husband noticed it too. “You’re…so…peaceful.”
What is more astonishing is that I experienced this just by showing up. It required my openness. There lies the rub: I had to experience an authentic need, dare I say desperation, for God’s nearness, His loving presence, and His guidance.
“There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear.”
-1 John 4:18
If you ever have the opportunity to do a silent retreat, I encourage you to go. I wish everyone had the time and resources to experience it. The world would be different. I’m positive there would be more peace.
To conclude the retreat, the guide wished us each Shalom. Shalom is a blessing of wholeness for the human heart. In the biblical context, Shalom can describe a state of flourishing and fullness that includes physical, emotional, spiritual, and social well-being.
Shalom, my friend. I pray that God’s peace surronds you in 2025, bringing you deep wholeness, rest, and renewal.
The illustration of the lower rungs on a ladder was so good. I’d never thought of that before!
Awesome sunrise photo. Thanks for sharing.