By Kathy Berken
On Deck
Who knew that reuniting with old friends and places could be a spiritual practice?
Since moving to St. Paul, Minnesota from Iowa some 15 years ago, I’ve been remiss in staying in contact with old friends from Iowa and from Wisconsin, where I previously lived.
I led a retreat at Our Lady of the Prairie in Wheatland three years ago, visited the L’Arche community in Clinton and had some sporadic visits with friends from Green Bay, Wisconsin over the years. Some friendships, though, just fell through the cracks. So, when I was in Wisconsin visiting family recently, I made a point of catching up with four dear old friends, two of whom I hadn’t seen in several decades. None of them knew each other, so I met each separately because the dynamic with a group is very different from a one-on-one conversation.
Our relationship with another person — and with God — is unique, which is why class reunions and other social gatherings can feel distancing and why I prefer to visit individually at these events, unless we are sharing common experiences. I think this uniqueness is why some people cherish centering prayer, private devotions and holy hours.
The spirituality of a meaningful friendship is worth noting. When a strong bond is created between two people through shared experiences, values and conversations, the thread connecting them often remains enduring. We can confidently state, “We just picked up where we last left off,” even if that was 30 years ago. We can say the same about our relationship with God. When we have been lax in our prayer life, often a return feels like a homecoming.
When I reunited with Mary, we hugged for a long time and just looked at each other with the realization that we have both aged but were still the same, great friends. After a minute of gathering our bearings, we spent the next three hours reminiscing, catching up and adding new stories. The next day when I saw Kathy, we did the same thing for three hours. We hugged and laughed at our now graying hair and other signs of aging.
The conversations with both Mary and Kathy were as genuine and deep as they had been all those decades ago. We shared old and new stories about family and friends. We compared notes about our declining bodies and minds. Most importantly, we were still easily comfortable with each other and I felt the chasm of time begin to fill in with God-moments. I suspect the same was true for them.
Certainly, God was present in our visits as we reestablished our friendships but sometimes you just know this without having to discuss it. To have a deep connection with people is one thing, but to verify that connection after any relationship (including with God) has been dormant is a gift beyond measure.
My visits with Mary and Kathy, along with two other life-giving meetings with old friends, gave me renewed hope and new life. The emotions that are still with me remind me of the day I happened to be in the neighborhood of a small, rural church and school I attended in the 1950s, which I hadn’t seen since the seventh grade.
I remember pulling my car into the parking lot, walking up to the front of the church, feeling elated that the door was unlocked, walking in and just standing in the back for a long time as fond memories filled my heart. Sitting in the back pew staring at the large crucifix and altar, the blonde-stained pews and the space where confessionals used to be, I felt at home. I thought about my grade school friends and teachers and how God was present throughout those times and the decades following.
Renewing all those old friendships and memories was for me a sacred moment, a spiritual practice not unlike my relationship with God.
(Kathy Berken is a spiritual director and retreat leader in St. Paul, Minnesota. She lived and worked at L’Arche in Clinton — The Arch from 1999-2009.)
