Listening at Eastern Point

Almost annually since 1988 I have been making my eight-day retreat at the Jesuit retreat house at Eastern Point near Gloucester, Mass. This year I hoped for lots of silence and time to listen to God. The second night I went for a walk down a path that separates a large pond from the cove that drinks from the ocean. Nor'easters last February spilled good-size rocks onto the path. At first I proceeded thinking I would locate the path. Almost immediately I lost my balance, fell forward, gashed my head above my right eye, came down hard with my left arm, broke the small finger of my left hand, bruised my hand and later discovered large bruises on my chest. That was five nights ago.

I spent four hours in the ER at the local hospital. The doctor that night was an Irish doctor who served me well even after I whooped loudly when she pulled my finger back into place. She also sewed five stitches in the gash. Today an orthopedist at a sports medicine clinic half an hour away put a cast on the hand after removing the splint and wrap that held It together from that night in the ER.

On Sunday the stitches are to be removed and I will hopefully be returning to Indianapolis. Eastern Point maintains the wildness and harsh beauty that has been here for ages. Each year I look for the pair of swans on the pond. One year momma swan swam right up to me on the shore to show off her seven babies (cygnets). Two chatty women walking by with a leashless dog were confronted by an angry momma swan when the dog took after it. I was betting on the swan.

This year the swans are gone. Two years ago a coyote reportedly got papa swan and last summer there was only momma swan. Now she has gone. Nor'easters have caused the ocean to intrude into the pond so frequently that it is no longer a fresh water pond. Retreat directors have explained that in recent years a couple of folks have had to be rescued from the ocean after being swept off the large rocks that line the coast. Apparently they either did not understand tides or know the power of water or didn't care.

I always enjoyed Eastern Point because it seemed to represent a harmony between God and nature. We humans were invited to enjoy it but also to respect it. Even my limited injuries suggest to me that perhaps I too have been taking it for granted. Genesis 1:28 reports God's command that human beings fill the earth and "subdue" it. Does that not mean we must get to know it, respect it, and learn from it?