My post from last night didn't get put up until this morning. I've had spotty cell phone coverage the past few days, and so haven't been able to post every day.
Yesterday was one of the most interesting days so far. Like I said, I saw the Lincoln Museum in the morning, then his birthplace after that. On the cycling map I have, I saw that the route goes right by the "Abbey of Gethsemani" here in the Kentucky hills. The cyclist I met in Carbondale, Joy, had stopped there, said it was neat, and told me that it was a Trappist monastery. This made me even more interested in stopping because I knew a little about the Trappist Order (a Catholic monastic order known for their focus on silence, prayer and labor) from reading some of Thomas Merton; he was an American Trappist monk in the 60's, wrote many well-known books, and was one of the most famous modern spiritual leaders.
We at Saint John's (my Eastern Orthodox community back home) have an interesting connection to Merton in that our "Big House" used to be a small Catholic convent which he visited in '68. In the late 60's the nuns moved and the "Big House" on Monastery Drive was purchased by our community founders, Harold Dunaway and his wife Barbara, to serve as the home and church for the community of young hippie Evangelical Christians they had. The group converted to Eastern Orthodox Christianity (along with about 20 other Protestant churches at the same time), began raising families, built a larger Orthodox church, and the community formed. Ever since the Big House (now formally named the St. James House) has served as a place for young adults to live and as the center for meetings, guests and hospitality. I lived there for a year in '03/'04. Also, a friend of our community, Jim Forest, who spoke at our Eagle River Institute last year, was a good friend of Merton's and has written one of his better known biographies.
So, with this background I roll into the gates on my bike clad in my spandex and stroll into the bookstore. It had the usual assortment of books (including many by Merton), icons, cards, as well as cheese and Kentucky bourbon fruitcake the monks make. The first interesting coincidence was that amongst the icon cards I notice several put out by Conciliar Press (the publishing company formed by some from the larger group of Protestants turned Orthodox), and one of the cards featured an icon of the Resurrection painted by my godmother, Robin Armstrong! It was about this time I heard a monk talking with some other visitors about Merton and he told me that this was the Abbey he lived at! I was originally intending to keep riding a little further, but decided to see if I could possibly stay there for the evening. I made my way over to the retreat center and had to convince the Guestmaster, Fr. Anton, that yes, I would respect the rule of silence in the monastery, no, I would not listen to music or watch TV, and that in addition to being the crazy spandex-clad cyclist who wandered off the street that he saw before him, I was also a genuinely interested seeker and Christian. After telling him I was Eastern Orthodox and had visited other monasteries before, he warmed up a bit and graciously agreed to let me stay in a room for the evening. I was just in time to shower before the 5:30 service.
The church itself was beautiful in a very simple, austere way. It was long and tall made out of whitewashed brick with dark wood rafters. The only icon in the church was a small Byzantine-style one of the Theotokos (Mary) and Jesus. In fact, all of the other icons I saw in the retreat center were all Russian or Byzantine style. After a silent supper at 6:00, I went to Compline (evening service) at 7:30 followed by the praying of the rosary in a separate chapel. The majority of these services were simple chanting of the psalms in the antiphon style: back and forth in turns between the two sides of the church. They also had an organ accompanying most of the chanting, which I wish they didn't. I think the chanting sounded better a cappella echoing off the walls of the church.
The rest of the evening I was able to wander around the retreat center a bit, which has rooms for guests, some dining rooms, gardens, a meditation room and library. There are a few areas that allow talking, but most of the retreat center and monastery doesn't allow speaking. It was actually kind of nice not having to talk to everyone and just enjoy the silence. In the library they had a huge section of Merton books, including one, "Merton in Alaska" about his 2 week visit to Alaska in September of '68 before his journey to Asia where he died. I was able to read a good chunk of this book which was simply a transciption of his journal, letters and talks given during his Alaska visit. I was especially interested in learning about his visit with the nuns in Eagle River.
At this point in his life Merton had been living at the Abbey of Gethsemani for 27 years, and was very well known worldwide through his writings. His abbot had allowed him to start traveling, and he had been getting increasingly interested in the spiritual truth in other religious traditions outside of Catholicism, especially the Eastern religions, hence his visit to Asia. He was also interested in finding a more secluded place to possibly live as a hermit, hence his exploration of Alaska. He really enjoyed his visit to our great state: the friendly people, the beauty, and the seclusion. Flying around in bush planes, he was able to see a lot of the state, but spent the most time in Eagle River at the convent of the Precious Blood, now the Big House, living in a trailer next to it and giving a series of talks to the nuns. He only spent a couple weeks total, and a few days in Eagle River, but really enjoyed this time. It was especially neat to hear him describe things about Eagle River and the house: being able to see Mts. McKinley and Foraker from the house, getting tired climbing one of the Chugach mountains behind the convent, and describing how the nuns were probably going to move because the convent had "water problems". He also mentions visiting the Orthodox church in Eklutna and being disappointed that he couldn't visit a Russian hermit living on an island near Kodiak (I'm assuming he meant Fr. Gerasim on Spruce Island).
Another interesting connection is that today was the Feast of St. Ephraim the Syrian, a Desert Father highly revered in the Eastern tradition. During Mass, the homily was about St. Ephraim and how he and other pre-Schism saints can be wonderful common ground of reconciliation of the Eastern and Western churches. As I was leaving, I met a friendly Irishman, Kevin, who gave me a medallion of Mary and I spoke with for a bit.
Overall, I feel very blessed and thankful to have been able to stay there last night and the series of "coincidental" occurances.
Now I'm 15 miles down the road in Bardstown, which is a cool old historic town in the heart of Kentucky's bourbon making area. The Jim Beam, Jack Daniels, and several other bourbon distilleries are right near here. I'm hoping to visit the "Bourbon Heritage Center" for a tour and tasting! I have about 60 more miles to ride today before getting to Josh Lourie's place just south of Lexington where I'll stay tonight and tommorrow night. It'll be great to see him!
