Laymen’s Retreats

New Zealand Tablet, Volume LII, Issue 1, 7 January 1925, Page 15

Laymen’s Retreats

~ The other day, I met a business friend—he had been successful owned a motor car, of course— it was indispensable in the running of his business. It was a Eng time sme© we had a chat his life was a whirl—a wave, as he passed in the car had just kept our friendship alive for quite a while. This day he was walking. “Had a smashup, I queried, expecting a rehearsal cf some . ; harrowmg details of Auto misery. . Hardly,” he retorted, “can’t run those luxuries: true the car’s, in the garage, but. its only a fool who uses the garage as a casualty ward and no more. Cars, like businesses, must in great part be run on ; thought—and forethought. That’s how I’ve , gone ahead. Take these motor accidents—they re generally called unavoidable, but are t ■ y ’a > I 0 "’ 11 counter nearly all these 'uTn U of ‘ e i Ped * people with a why Vanin t you ? —of some sort or other, and ten fh 01 l e , 7011,11 get tlle answer. * I never L T ■ Well, i think a lot of my machine, and after a grinding year in she goes for a spell v and an annual sweetener.” ; . . 1 ventured, marvelling at my busy fciend s loquacity on this occasion, “you’ll be 1 0S -^ out lt *” • . Better that, ’ he replied philosophically,

(Contributed.)

“than being lost with it. But, as a matter of fact, I am going to lose myself for the next few days and for the same reason. I’m looking ahead— ahead—to the everlasting side of things. Many men turn to this side, only after a smash-up They have the ‘casualty ward’ view of the Church It was poor rather Terence Shealy, the great New York Jesuit, who put me right on this matter. I was one of 2000 men—by the way the great American doctor, James J Walsh, M.D., Ph.D., was one of us, and what he doesn’t know about life—better ask New York about him. It would do you good to meet our Catholic professional men in’ the States. Well, 2000 of us blew along to a most wonderful “Garage” on Statenand in one year. Such an assortment—all ‘ deadbeats,’ in a . senseworn down with 100 different interests. The good Father old us to take a spell and to invite our souls ’ to Mount Manresa to think— think of the meaning of lifehe said we were just going through it like a Christmas Eve crowd in the streets. We took the hintsomehow Father Shealy’s hints had to be taken, and spent the three happiest days ever. Sweetened up? I should say. - After three days’ recollection we left with a consciousness of new powerthrobbing with it—Rotorua? Te

Aroha? Mount Cook ?—not in it! i New power, l was saying, to face our every day problems,: and a definite recognition of the mystery of things so dark to the men "of J our times - who have no Faith to guide them.">■■■■ [ ■',■"■.. Then I got thinking, too, for my friend had had a long say and had given me a $ good chance. 'But," I objected, "you haven't got to be a Manresa Cave-Man to do that job—a mission every three years is all you want." "I'd have agreed with you once," was his answer, "but not now. You see you are looking at things speculatively—as an outsider. I've been through the mill. You can't think long enough during these missions. Mind you I don't underestimate them—wouldn't miss them. But during the mission, it's business as usual. You can't concentrate sufficientlya mission is a makeshift for those who want to get out of the rut, in comparison with a Retreat. I don't do my work at meetings. My biggest strokes are pulled off in my den — to everybody—thought. You see the soul that runs my businessthey say I am the soul of it —has to run the salvation side of things as well. It gets overstrained —run. downridden to death. It's running my business during Missionstwo minutes overtime on a sermon gets it on edge. During a Retreat there is nothing else on. You concentrate on the salvation side. It's a real change, and a change is a holiday. Yes, the anxieties of business eat into the soul-sounds like cancer though some one speaks of "life's fitful fever." Perhaps he was right—believe me, sometimes I'm very near delirium. Take my adviceit's a straight tip from one who knows—stave off the delirium there's nothing so bracing for the tired, washed-out soul as mountain —it's mountain air in the house of Retreatwhen it's the sermon on the mount that's in it."

I never thought, he had it in him —never thought he mixed religion with business — but . there was always something about him. He hated and despised the man who hid his religion, who said a Catholic couldn’t get on. By sheer hard work, by taking the straight road, which every Catholic should take, and will command respect and a following in taking, he had got on, got ahead. His secret was out. The man with something in him was off to St, Bede’s, Christchurch, for the 16th January, or to Holy Cross College, Mosgiel, on the 30th January, just as Dr. Walsh and the men who matter in America, are off to Mount Manresato learn • how their light should shine in the pagan darkness of our times. By his influence I’ll fit in a visit to Wanganui at the same time and be right with him. in spirit, and it won’t be my fault if that brother of mine doesn’t hie him off to St. Pat’s on the 23rd.