Monastic Journeys
A towering sequoia surges from the ground at Queen of Angels Monastery in Mount Angel, Oregon. A Benedictine sister planted it from a random cutting in 1892. The tree now stands some 150 feet tall. The lowest branches form an open arch extending about six feet above the ground. I asked my friend Mari Miller, who was showing me around the monastery grounds, what we might expect to find within that empty space. “God,” she said.
A host of monasteries dot the U.S. landscape from coast to coast. Each offers clean, quiet guest rooms in a prayerful setting at minimal cost (sometimes only a free will donation). The guest rooms, however, are hardly the main reason to visit a monastery. A multitude of discoveries, like the Queen of Angels’ giant sequoias — awaits those who arrive. Just as fascinating as the surroundings is the constellation of intriguing characters that seem to gravitate toward monastic settings.
Most importantly, monasteries offer a break from the daily chaos of our lives, a chance to refocus on what really matters.
Besides its strikingly beautiful evergreens, Queen of Angels also has an outdoor labyrinth and a series of lovingly-tended flower gardens, perfect for meditation walks. The monastery is home to some of the most hospitable Benedictine sisters you will ever meet. I needed another suitcase to carry home all the gifts I received when I guided a retreat at the monastery recently.
The monks of Mount Angel Abbey live just down the road. The abbey grounds include the oldest seminary in the western U.S. The library there is a structural gem, designed by the Finnish architect Alvar Aalto. He is known for working curbed wave designs into his buildings and did so with this library as well. I could have spent days among the rare manuscripts and books, and was able to purchase a few not-so-rare spirituality titles for a just a few dollars on the sale book table.
My monastic journeys led me next to St. Placid Priory in Lacey, just outside of Olympia, WA. There I met Seattle filmmaker Marilyn Freeman, one of the lay associates (called Oblates) of the Priory. After spending years as a documentary maker, Marilyn now creates short films she calls “CinemaDivina.” Their purpose is to spark quiet contemplation in the viewer, in the way that monastics have used “Lectio Divina,” the slow, careful, reflective reading of Scripture, as a meditation practice for centuries.
In one of her film shorts, Marilyn uses a cross-country trip as the jumping off point for an excursion into the nature of mercy. “Mercy is something I know, but don’t want to know, because it requires too much of me,” the film’s narrator says. Lingering shots abound, like one unforgettable image of the dark depth of a goat’s eyes, that orient us toward seeing in a new way.
There are repeated motifs, like these lines from Gertrude the Great of Helfta, that challenge us and urge us on to deeper reflection:
Love arouses the soul
Oh wake up, soul
How long will you sleep?
Marilyn Freeman’s “CinemaDivina” causes us to slow down, pause, and tap into the inner life. It is just one of the ways people are adapting ancient monastic contemplative practices to the contemporary world.
If you love arts and crafts, it’s possible to meet many artists and craft-makers within the orbit of a monastery. St. Placid Priory, for example, is where the artist Sister Monika Ellis lives and works. Among her many creations are colorful banners made of pressed wool that depict the symbols of each liturgical season. I now have two of her banners in my home — one for Lent and another for Ordinary Time. Sister Monika illustrates Bibles and lately has been painting designs on coffee cups sold in the Priory gift shop.
Of course, the natural beauty of St. Placid’s surroundings — especially the tall pines and spruces — add to the artistry of the setting. That beauty reminds us that we humans are but one fragment in the vast community of creation.
Not far from St. Placid sits St. Martin Abbey, where Lacey’s monks live. There, Brother Edmund Ebbers, who is the Oblate director at St. Martin, creates extraordinary rosaries made of interwoven string. Whether he is having a chat in his office, listening to a talk, or riding in a car, Brother Edmund’s hands are always busy threading his rosaries. His industriousness reminds me of a line from The Rule of St. Benedict, “idleness is the enemy of the soul.” Proceeds from the sale of Brother Edmund’s rosaries help support a variety of causes.
As many of us take off in the coming weeks for our end of summer vacations, may I suggest visiting a monastery if one happens to be nearby, and perhaps even staying as guests. I guarantee you’ll be glad you did. Happy journeying!
