Let the heavens rejoice and earth be glad; Let the field and all it bears rejoice at the presence of the LORD. Psalm 96:11–13
Alan Reed, O.S.B.Abbey Banner
Magazine of Saint John’s
Editor: Robin Pierzina, O.S.B.
Design: Alan Reed, O.S.B.
Editorial assistants: Gloria Hardy; Patsy Jones, Obl.S.B.; Aaron Raverty, O.S.B.
Abbey archivist: David Klingeman, O.S.B. University archivists: Peggy L. Roske, Elizabeth Knuth
Circulation: Ruth Athmann, Tanya Boettcher, Debra Bohlman, Chantel Braegelmann Printed by Palmer Printing
Merit of life and wisdom of doctrine should determine the choice of the one to be constituted abbot.
Rule of Benedict 64.2
This issue celebrates the guidance of the Holy Spirit, inspiring the monks of Saint John’s Abbey to elect Father Douglas Mullin as their eleventh abbot, and his Spirit-inspired assent to that call. On 9 January 2024, following months of prayerful discernment, the monastic community entrusted Douglas Mullin with the care of our souls (RB 2.34). Abbot Douglas opens this issue with a reflection on “planning” and how Divine Providence often enough upends our designs—as it certainly did for him! Father Timothy Backous outlines the life story of our new abbot. Prior Eric Hollas explores the personal qualities and job description of the one who holds “the place of Christ in the monastery” (RB 2.2), and Dr. Therese Ratliff “welcomes our abbot.”
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Cover: Bishop Parick Neary blesses
Abbot Douglas Mullin, 28 January 2024
Photo: Paul Middlestaedt
The Spirit’s guidance is not limited to abbatial elections. Mr. Jacob Lipke reflects on how his plans and assumptions as a college senior fell victim to Divine Providence. He reflects on his personal blessings—how he has overcome fear, grown, and deepened his faith as a result of his service in the Benedictine Volunteer Corps.
As a young man, Saint Benedict pursued a life of solitude and silence in the caves and cliffs of Subiaco, a few miles southeast of Rome. In 529, inspired by the Spirit, he moved farther south of the Eternal City and founded a cenobitic monastery. Brother Aaron Raverty introduces us to the Abbey of Montecassino, the first house of the Benedictine Order, and shares the sad story of its most recent destruction as observed by a monk of Saint John’s Abbey.
Though climate change has scrambled our normally predictable weather patterns, Mother Nature continues to amaze and entertain us. Mr. John Geissler identifies a few of the special wildlife encounters that he anticipates each spring in the abbey arboretum. Father Conrad Diekmann, also inspired by spring’s splendor, shares his reflections on the sights, sounds, and shades of this season of growth and renewal—in poetry that outlives him.
In his ongoing research into monastic timekeeping, Father Cyprian Weaver examines the Rule of the Master (written shortly before Saint Benedict’s Rule) and its references to the management of time for prayer and meals. In this issue we also meet the brothers and beards of Saint John’s first generations, reflect on America’s Greatest Generation, explore the relationship between crooks and abbots, and more.
Along with Abbot Douglas and the monastic community, the staff of Abbey Banner offers prayers and best wishes to all our readers for a blessed Easter season. Peace!
Brother Robin Pierzina, O.S.B.
Come, Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful and kindle in them the fire of your love.
Abbot Douglas Mullin, O.S.B.
Planning is a good idea. Individuals, organizations, and societies create plans to serve as a roadmap for accomplishing those things deemed important. When we plan, we identify goals and strategies to accomplish those goals. Good planning clarifies one’s sense of purpose and direction. Lack of planning or poor planning can leave people floundering or feeling helpless.
And yet, planning has its limitations. A primary limitation lies in the planners’ inability to anticipate all variables and uncertainties. It’s impossible to foresee every possible outcome or obstacle. To be sure, I believe that the variables and uncertainties are the context through which God often interacts with us, calling us to trust in Divine Providence. As a result, good plans need to be flexible so they can be adapted, adjusted, or revised in response to changing circumstances.
The Rule of Saint Benedict is a plan for disciples of Jesus who desire to live the Gospel in “a school of the Lord’s service” (Prol.45), a plan for those who wish to grow in recognizing, contemplating, accepting, embodying, and promoting the love, justice, and mercy of God that is incarnate in Jesus Christ. Benedict, who insists his Rule is for beginners, makes allowances for individual differences and for adaptations as deemed appropriate.
As a monk of Saint John’s for nearly forty-five years, I have sought to adhere to and learn from the wisdom of the Rule in my own planning. Accordingly, I have been blessed with always having the best job in the world—until the next job came along! Then that new job became the best one. While I have fond memories of each job I have had and the wonderful people I have been privileged to serve with, I have never wanted to go back to a job that now seems second or third best.
My most recent job—chaplain at the Saint Cloud VA—was the one I had planned, since my pastoral internship there during seminary days, to be my “retirement career.” I still see it as the greatest job in the world: great people to minister to and with; great stories to listen to and be moved by; a 40-hour workweek with paid holidays, vacation, and a handsome salary—all the while not having to deal with budgets or maintenance concerns. That plan was shattered when I was asked to accept the abbatial election as God’s call. While there is nothing about being abbot that I ever wanted (especially in my retirement career!), Divine Providence, along with the loving support of the monastic community and beyond, are signs that this, too, may become the best job in the world.
The election of an abbot is a key moment in the life of any monastic community.
Abbot John Klassen, O.S.B., who served Saint John’s Abbey as its spiritual father with grace and wisdom from November 2000 until January 2024, turned seventy-five in March, the age at which he is required to offer his resignation as abbot. Months ago, in anticipation of this milestone birthday, Abbot John expressed to the community his intention of retiring—“I need to step back graciously”—and urged the community to elect a new leader.
The senior council of the abbey served as a steering committee, working with other members of the community to begin the abbatial election process. The council designated 8–11 January 2024 as the actual days of election. Throughout the fall of 2023, the monks prayed for God’s blessings on our community and pondered where we are headed. During monthly meetings, they gathered to reflect on their vision for Saint John’s— their personal dreams and concerns, their hopes and fears for the life of the community. Eventually, they identified the personal qualities judged to be the most desirable for the one chosen to lead the abbey at this time. Heavily focused on pastoral sensitivity, these qualities were also aspirational, since no one could possess all of them—with the possible exception of Jesus Christ, and even for him it would be a stretch.
While the mechanics of an abbatial election are established in The Constitutions and The Directory of the AmericanCassinese Congregation, ultimate responsibility for calling forth one from our midst to serve as abbot lies with the Holy Spirit. Father Cyprian Weaver noted, “What we have to do—the responsibility that falls on each one’s shoulders—is to listen deeply and profoundly to the Spirit. It is the Holy Spirit who will guide us in this election.”
Following the Mass of the Holy Spirit on the morning of
will of the community, Father Douglas Mullin became the eleventh abbot of Saint John’s Abbey. He will serve for eight years.
During a thanksgiving prayer service following the election, all members of the community exchanged the sign of peace with the newly elected abbot. On 28 January, Most Rev. Patrick Neary, C.S.C., Bishop of the Diocese of Saint Cloud, presided at a Mass of Blessing and Thanksgiving in the abbey and university church, during which he conferred on Abbot Douglas the abbatial blessing: “Give him a heart full of compassion, wisdom, and zeal, so that he may not lose even one of the flock entrusted to his charge.”
8 January 2024, eighty-nine capitulars—solemnly professed monks of Saint John’s Abbey— cast nominating ballots, in person or through a proxy. Those nominated could accept or decline nomination. The monks who accepted were then “scrutinized” by the community—in turn, each individual stepped out of the room and was evaluated charitably as to his strengths, weaknesses, and God-given gifts.
To be elected abbot on the initial ballots, a candidate must receive at least two-thirds of the votes cast. On the morning of 9 January, upon receiving more than the number of votes required and assenting to the
Rupert Seidenbusch
Elected 12 December 1866, age 36 12 electors 1866–1875
Alexius Edelbrock
Elected 2 June 1875, age 31 24 Electors 1875–1889
Bernard Locnikar
Elected 7 May 1890, age 41 54 Electors 1890–1894
Peter Engel
Elected 28 November 1894, age 38 49 Electors 1894–1921
Our discernment is a movement, a quest toward putting on “the mind of Christ” (Philippians 2:5), which means reaching out and prioritizing the good of the other and turning away from self-centered concerns.
How do we listen to God? How do we clear out the noise of our selfcentered striving? One tactic that the Rule of Benedict encourages in chapter 72 deals with good zeal: monks should each try to be the first to show honor to the other. This putting on the mind of Christ demands that we listen to God in the reading of sacred Scripture, in our times of silent meditation, in attentiveness to the wisdom that others speak to us. We are called always to listen to the ways that God is speaking to us.
We should have as our prayer the Lord’s Prayer, crying out to the Father: “hallowed be thy name; thy Kingdom come; thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” It is not my will that I am hoping for and wanting to be realized; rather, it is God’s will. It takes every fiber of our being to be attentive to this divine life. But if we have the mind of Christ, we are on the pathway toward a very hopeful future, one that can be a source of nourishment for all.
Father Dale Launderville, O.S.B. 8 January 2024
Abbots of Saint John’s Abbey
Alcuin Deutsch
Elected 29 December 1921, age 44 116 Electors
1921–1950
Baldwin Dworschak
Elected 28 December 1950, age 44 201 Electors
1950–1971
John Eidenschink
Elected 24 August 1971, age 57 278 Electors
1971–1979
Jerome Theisen
Elected 22 August 1979, age 48 248 Electors 1979–1992
Timothy Kelly
Elected 27 November 1992, age 58 214 Electors
1992–2000
John Klassen
Elected 24 November 2000, age 51 169 Electors 2000–2024
Douglas Mullin
Elected 9 January 2024, age 69 89 Electors 2024–
He is believed to hold the place of Christ in the monastery. Rule of Benedict, 2.2
In monastic circles, the role of abbot is considered almost superhuman, probably because the responsibilities are nearly impossible for one person to handle. It is, thus, ironic that the one called by the Spirit and chosen by the monks of Saint John’s Abbey to be their eleventh abbot is the antithesis of a superman! Abbot Douglas Mullin, O.S.B., is, by nature, quiet, steady, determined, and compassionate. His style involves not force or demand but rather introspection, collaboration and, if necessary, lots of time.
Who is this man behind the curtain? Abbot Douglas says it was an “accident” that he was born in Laredo, Texas, because both his parents, Mary Ann and Delbert, were Minnesotans! Doug’s father had enlisted in the air force right out of high school and was stationed in Laredo. After a year, he returned to Minnesota to marry Mary Ann, and the happy couple returned to Laredo. About a year later, Doug was born on 30 September 1954, followed two years later by his sister Patricia. After Delbert was discharged from the air force, the family moved to Minnesota where the last of Doug’s siblings (Debbie, Sandy, Barb, Brad, and John) were born. Sadly, they lost their mother in 1969 at the age of 36. Dad died in 1992 at the age of 58.
Abbot Douglas credits two uncles—who had been students at Saint John’s Preparatory School—with introducing him to Saint John’s. His knowledge of the community would deepen as he enjoyed the preaching and presiding of weekend warrior Father Arnold Weber, a charismatic Benedictine. The final push to explore Collegeville came from his high school world-history teacher—a staunch Lutheran and graduate of Saint Olaf College—who told him definitively, “You belong at Saint John’s!” He had intended to enroll at Bemidji State College, but after his own investigation of the Saint John’s curriculum and campus, he did a reset and became a Johnnie.
What led our new abbot to monastic
life? “My initial interest came about after graduation from Saint John’s University, while I was teaching in Saint Cloud,” Abbot Douglas recalls. “I was homesick for Saint John’s, the place where I came to know and understand myself, where I found community and God giving me a sense of being at home. I knew very little about monastic life at this time; my interest was primarily in becoming a part of Saint John’s, but I realized that monastic life was the pathway to make that happen.” He would repeat those sentiments when meeting with a member of the abbey’s admission committee, who asked Doug if he had visited any other monasteries to get a sense of the different ways that monastic life is lived. “I told him that my primary interest was being a part of Saint John’s, and that my interest in monastic life was not for its own sake but to get me to Saint John’s.”
Following a year of novitiate, Doug professed his first vows with four classmates on 11 July
1979. In 2007, after completing seminary studies, he was ordained a priest. He earned a master’s degree in religious education from Saint John’s University, another in school administration from the University of Saint Thomas, and a doctorate from the University of Minnesota. Throughout his monastic life, education has been at the heart of his service: as a teacher and principal at St. Mary’s Mission School, Red Lake Nation; as a teacher and dean at Saint John’s Prep; in the campus ministry office, as a faculty resident, as a professor, and as vice president of student development at Saint John’s University. He also served the monastic community as subprior and Saint John’s Seminary as vice rector.
At the time of his election, Abbot Douglas was living his latest dream: ministering as a chaplain at the Saint Cloud VA Medical Center. Just before the election, he recalls: “Several people had told me they would like to see me as abbot, and some even asked if I would allow them to nominate me. I said ‘no.’ I felt I had carved out a wonderful retirement career as chaplain at the VA, which I found richly rewarding. I spent most of my day with veterans, doing things I loved: listening to their stories, being with them in their pain and questions, giving witness to Christ’s presence in their lives. And I was especially glad to be freed from dealing with budgets
and all matters related to discipline! The veterans and staff are embedded in my heart.”
The Holy Spirit had other ideas. When our future abbot heard his name called during the nomination ballot, “I got scared. I cried. Each time my name was repeated, it felt like a stomach punch. I prayed, ‘Lord, if it is your will, please allow this cup to be taken from me; not that it be my will, but that your will be done.’ I found relief, solace, and support each time someone else’s name was called out!”
The Holy Spirit is a master of consolation. On the day of election, Abbot Douglas reflects, “I felt peace. I believed God heard my prayers and would answer. This time, as my name was called time and time again, it felt surreal. I felt beside myself, but I
sensed the Holy Spirit was truly present with us. I cried at feeling God was giving me the clear answer I had asked for as we passed the two-thirds-majority mark, and my name continued to be called. I felt myself being embraced by God through the arms of the community. I felt blessed. I felt humbled. I felt reassurance and peace. When asked if I would accept the election, or if I needed some time, I felt God’s confidence speaking through me as I said, ‘I accept,’ and the community exploded with applause.”
Douglas Mullin brings a depth of skills—educator, pastor, administrator—that are destined to help him guide our community. Above all we now call him “abbot” because of his profound love for, and sense of belonging at, Saint John’s.
Therese Ratliff
On a bright January day,
I was finishing up an editorial meeting at Liturgical Press, when a colleague announced, “The bells are ringing! We have an abbot!”
The first election of a new abbot in twenty-three years was underway at Saint John’s Abbey. This announcement, that came on the second day of the process, filled us all with delighted anticipation! Just as a rising spiral of white smoke at the Vatican announces that a pope has been elected, so the abbey church bells break out in joyous peals to proclaim the news of a newly elected abbot in Collegeville. Along with many other campus employees and students, the Liturgical Press folk hurried to the church for the procession of the monks. From newest to most senior, they filed in two by two and took their places in the choir stalls. Those gathered craned to see the final figure in the procession: the new abbot. Excited whispers spread from those in the back of the church— indeed, “the last shall be first” (Matthew 20:16)! “It’s Doug!” “Doug is our abbot!”
Two years ago, on my first day as director of Liturgical Press, I wandered among the beautiful brick buildings on the Saint John’s campus, hoping to discover the Press offices, just down the walk. As I glanced around to get my bearings, a monk
emerged from a side door with a wide smile. “You must be Therese. We’ve been waiting for you. Welcome home!” With that simple, generous gesture, I knew I belonged.
I might describe “being Benedictine” in many ways, yet I always return to belonging, connection, community—these notions go beyond “being friends” or “having colleagues.” They reach a place of deep rootedness that eclipses geographical location, historical roots, or institutional knowledge. More than networking—it’s relationship. “Remain in me, as I remain in you” (John 15:4). Jesus desires a deep connection, a reciprocity, a regard for each other that leaves no doubt: we belong-to-and-remainin each other as much as in him.
As part of the Liturgical Press community, I spend some days in my remote office in Connecticut and some in Minnesota. Both have their blessings, and each has its challenges; but neither tips the scales—wherever I find myself in any given week, I always belong. I’m ever connected. I unfailingly feel welcomed. I experience remaining.
When the bells pealed, and those on campus hurried to the church, from afar I quickly left my Zoom meeting and opened the abbey’s livestream. There, I joined the wider community and dipped fully into the liturgical moment, as we, together, welcomed our abbot.
Dr. Therese Ratliff is the director of Liturgical Press.
In chapter 2 of the Rule, Saint Benedict presents a job description for the abbot that is, to say the least, idealistic and demanding. He prescribes that an abbot—who holds “the place of Christ in the monastery”—be an astute mentor to his flock, a spiritual father, a wise physician, an insightful judge of character, and someone who teaches first by example and only then by word.
The abbot is also a manager, and in that role, there is no room for naïveté. He must be aware of those monks who tend to build personal kingdoms. He ought not allow any monk to lord it over the brothers, nor should any personal favorites arise within the community. He cannot rely on a “one size fits all” approach, because some monks need to be challenged, while others need support. Always, he must listen carefully for the presence of the Spirit percolating through the community.
Because the abbot must confront the reality of life in community, in society, and in the Church, he needs to have social and even political skills. For example, it is his responsibility to see that all guests are received as Christ (RB 53.1), and he must relate to each accordingly. Beyond that, he must cultivate good relations with the local bishop and clergy
as well as with those who do business with the monastery. All relationships matter!
Saint Gregory the Great’s Life of Saint Benedict gives a glimpse into the practical side of an abbot’s life. While the Rule makes no mention of it, Benedict himself preached to his neighbors, not all of whom were open to his message. That was especially true of the barbarian chief who came to loot Benedict’s monastery. Benedict successfully deflected him from his goal, but for a successorabbot at Montecassino, there was no such luck.
If, in the Gospels, some could marvel that “[Jesus] does all things well” (Mark 7:37), Benedict does not expect that of abbots. Like all monks,
abbots have their own shortcomings, and Benedict warns that there will be a day for accountability—when the abbot meets the Lord for a performance appraisal.
This is a lot to expect of any abbot, and our times only add to the burden. Be he a spiritual father, a CEO, or a diplomat, much has been entrusted to the abbot, and from him much is expected. Like our predecessors, the monks at Saint John’s Abbey pray that the Lord bring to successful completion the good work already begun in our abbot.
Father Eric Hollas, O.S.B., is the prior of Saint John’s Abbey. His teaching should be a leaven of divine justice kneaded into the minds of his disciples. Rule of Benedict, 2.5
At the beginning of my senior year at Saint John’s University, I recall catching my first glimpse of the bell banner of the abbey church as I exited the freeway. I’m home! There wasn’t a worry on my mind. Most of my difficult coursework had been finished the previous year, and thanks to a successful internship over the summer, I had a job lined up after graduation. Nothing to do now but enjoy the ride.
A month later, however, I was back to worrying about the future. I was trying to decide if I should apply to the Benedictine Volunteer Corps (BVC). I had been impressed by past BVC participants and was excited by the idea of a year of service work, but there were other factors to consider. What would my family think? What would my job prospects look like after a year of service? Did I have what it takes to live in a foreign country (and a monastery!) for an entire year? While I was mulling over these questions, I realized that fear was holding me back. I thought back to when I decided to attend Saint John’s in the first place. That, too, had been a decision I was scared to make. Right then, I resolved to place my trust in the people and place that had made the last years so special. I was going to be a Benedictine Volunteer!
Fast forward: My first week of service at Prince of Peace Abbey (Tigoni, Nairobi Province, Kenya) tested my courage again —twice, in fact. One of our worksites, St. Benedict’s Primary School, tossed Trenton Dodds (my BVC partner) and me into our first teaching assignment with seven minutes notice! I remember looking at Trenton and saying, “People go to college
for four years to study teaching, and we’ve got less than ten minutes to try and get ready for an entire day?!” I didn’t think there was any way that we could be successful with so little preparation. We started our first lesson by introducing ourselves and asking our students what they had learned the day before. It was a shaky start, but halfway through the lesson, both Trenton
and I loosened up and found our groove. I finished that first class period feeling that we accomplished something, knowing that the students had gotten something out of it. My first experience of teaching got me thinking: What else could I do, if I didn’t allow fear to get in the way?
Two days later at St. Scholastica Hospital, I started my first shift in the maternity ward. I was given a tour and then put on bed-making duty. Luckily, my mom (a nurse) showed me how to make a bed with “hospital corners” while I was growing up. At this point, I was feeling pretty good about how my first day was going. I had learned a lot and done what I could to help the staff. Just then, a nurse came over and let me know that I would be doing the next checkin on all the new mothers! “Just ask them questions about their baby, how they’re feeling, if they’re drinking water, still bleeding, in pain, etc. You’ve got it!” I couldn’t believe it. There had to have been some kind of mistake. I’m no doctor! I decided that no matter how I felt, I needed to project confidence from the start. I didn’t want the mothers to be worried by the lack of knowledge or training that my uneasiness would project. I rehearsed my list of questions a couple times, took a deep breath, and said hello to the first mother of many. By the fourth or fifth mom, I wasn’t nervous anymore; I was
excited. Even though I was in a new setting, I was just meeting people and finding out how they felt. Once again, I saw that on the other side of fear is a chance for me to grow and find a new interest.
There have been many opportunities in the past few months to exercise courage when faced with a daunting task, but none so big as travelling to Tabgha, Israel, for a six-week stint of service. Tabgha, on the shore of the Sea of Galilee, has been a BVC site for a number of years but hadn’t had any volunteers since the war between Hamas and Israel began in October 2023. When Brother Paul Richards, director of the Benedictine Volunteer Corps, asked if anyone was interested in serving in Tabgha, I found myself drawn to going there—as long as I could come back to Kenya. I can confidently say that the decision to go to Tabgha is one of the best
I’ve made. I lived where 5 loaves and 2 fish fed the crowd of thousands (Mark 6:31–44), and this miracle of abundance is still alive today. Even though there was a limit to what I could do because of the war, I made many connections, did lots of meaningful work, and experienced countless new things.
I am grateful to everyone who makes the Benedictine Volunteer Corps possible. The BVC has caused me to grow and change in ways that I never would have imagined. I have deepened my relationship with God and made many new friends. I have memories that will stick with me for the rest of my life. Lastly, I recognize the value of being outside my comfort zone and being courageous in the face of fear.
Mr. Jacob Lipke, a mathematics major from Stewart, Minnesota, graduated summa cum laude from Saint John’s University.
“I finished that first class period feeling that we accomplished something.”
One of the many benefits of working in the Saint John’s Abbey Arboretum and observing nature in the same place for numerous years is that we can train ourselves to be alert, to look in the right place at the right time to see so many special natural moments annually. The following is just a sampling of spring wildlife encounters in the arboretum that I eagerly look forward to each year.
Not long after the ice melts on the lakes in and around the abbey arboretum, the loons announce their return, calling loudly as they fly over campus. Soon after, I can expect a phone call from Brother Walter Kieffer, with a friendly reminder to get the loon nesting platforms out. The floating platforms are basically miniature islands that provide nesting protection from land-based egg-eating predators, such as raccoons and skunks. We move the platforms to shore each fall to prevent the winter ice from damaging them. For the last three years, Mr. Con Brady (abbey forest professional) and I have had the pleasure of putting out our three loon platforms in the spring. Our favorite and the most successful platform—constructed by Brother Walter many years ago—is on Stumpf Lake.
In the morning, we jump into a canoe and paddle to the southeast shore where the platform is
stored. Pulling up to the shoreline, we refurbish the platform by adding new dried vegetation to the nesting area and to the wire arch overhead, which provides shade and, most important, protection from bald eagles.
Next we hoist the platform anchors into the canoe, slide the platform into the water, and slowly begin to tug the platform into position on the lake about twenty yards from shore. What happens then I wouldn’t have
believed if I didn’t experience it two of the last three years. Perhaps sensing that their nesting island is arriving, a pair of loons from across the lake make a beeline toward us. Wow! Here they come, directly toward us, without hesitation! As we make final preparations on the raft from the canoe, I am speechless as the loon pair is circling within six feet of us! They seemingly can’t wait to be back on their summer nesting site. As they circle, they make soft calls that I translate as “Thank you!” Or maybe, “It’s about time you guys got this out here! What were you waiting for?” After the raft is appropriately anchored, we slowly and silently retreat, filled with the thrill of this unique, annual closeup interaction with Minnesota’s state bird.
Back on land, much of our stewardship activity during the month of May is planting trees. With so much time in the field, on our hands and knees, we will definitely observe many wonderful things! Watching the joy of discovery as our student land managers encounter a salamander, skink, redbelly
snake, or curled-up white-tailed deer fawn for the first time are priceless moments! They are definitely a side benefit of the job. During exit interviews, students confirm that these special discoveries are among the highlights of their experiences in the abbey arboretum.
In early to mid-June, whenever our crew is on a dock or near the edge of a body of water, we try to keep an eye out for the transformation of dragonflies from nymph to adult. They are a little harder to spot but not less impressive. Dragonfly eggs are laid on the surface
of the water. They hatch as aquatic organisms, spending two months to five years underwater, depending on the species. The moment I love most is when they climb out of the water (often on vegetation sticking out of the water, on the dock itself, or on any plants along the shoreline) and transform from a water-dwelling critter into a flying dragonfly. It is amazing to observe this metamorphosis! The back exoskeleton of the dragonfly nymph splits, and the new dragonfly slowly emerges from its old water-dwelling skin. The most astonishing detail is how the four intricate wings— that look like tiny bumps— unfold, expand, and eventually harden. This process leaves behind the skin of the nymph (exuviae) as evidence. Once we develop an eye for spotting these exuviae, we will see them
in many shapes and sizes, depending on the species that leave them. There are about 140 total species of dragonflies and damselflies in Minnesota.
From insects to mammals, from birds to reptiles and amphibians, there is an abundance of life surrounding us! I hope you get outside, whether in your own backyard or in the abbey arboretum, to see what you can discover this spring.
Mr. John Geissler is the land manager of Saint John’s Abbey and director of Saint John’s Outdoor University.
Conrad Diekmann, O.S.B.
One lone crow calling— Let’s forget the calendar; Spring is on its way.
Last year’s dead brown leaves, Once live green, will be transformed Into new green life.
All through the long night, Wild geese trumpet their return In clangorous brass.
It’s time for a switch: Bare black and white to color— Strong on blue and green.
SPRING
Exultant spirals
Of mad loon laughter hail spring’s First open water.
The soft drumming of Warm rain rouses and quickens The long-dormant seeds.
Frail anemones, Shivering pale blue, can yet Mock April’s chill winds.
Ping-pong balls with down, Beady eyes, and yellow feet: Newly hatched ducklings.
Stalking the Spring woods, I freeze like a dog on point: Wild plum in full bloom!
The fawns are dappled As the sun-splattered woodlands Where they lie hidden.
Robins transmute a Muddy-worm diet into Clean, bright melody.
Rabbits antedate
Complex computers as quick Multiplicators.
Jack-in-the-pulpit
Preaches a good short sermon: There’s beauty in bogs.
Dandelions?—Weeds!
But winter-starved eyes relish A green-gold salad.
The fiddlehead scrolls Of uncurling ferns are mute Music to my eyes.
I watched in wonder: An opal dragon fly burst From a rusty nymph.
Tulips, in strict files, Stand at attention. Lilacs, Relaxed, loll at ease.
“Nothing is so homey,” Said the turtle, “as the sound Of rain on my roof.”
I went out for bass.
Got skunked!—But caught a sunrise And a loon calling.
Father Conrad Diekmann, O.S.B. (1904–1974), was a Benedictine monk for fifty years. Though trained in art at the University of Munich in Germany, he spent nearly all his adult life teaching English at Saint John’s University. He was keenly interested in sports and possessed the mind of a scholar and perceptiveness of an artist and painter. A frequent writer of verse, especially haiku, his poetic contributions appeared in various magazines including America, Catholic World, and Sports Illustrated.
Founded by Saint Benedict of Nursia in 529, the Abbey of Montecassino is located just west of the town of Cassino, Italy, built upon a rocky hill that had originally housed a shrine dedicated to the Greek god Apollo.
Subiaco, the womb of the Benedictine Order, was Benedict’s first settlement after departing Rome in his student days. Subiaco, in turn, “gave birth” to Montecassino, the first house of the Benedictine Order. The editors of RB 1980 note: After establishing monasteries in and around Subiaco, “Benedict left this region with a few disciples and founded a fully cenobitic monastery on top of the mountain rising above Cassino, some eighty miles south of Rome on the way to Naples. Here he acquired a widespread reputation as a holy man invested with divine charisms” (77). While Benedict may have begun to write his Rule at Subiaco, RB 1980 asserts that the Rule was written for his monastery; “there is no record that it was followed anywhere else” (113).
Montecassino has a rich historical legacy since Benedict died there in 547. The monastery was notable even beyond its Benedictine heritage, however. Saint Thomas Aquinas (1225–1274), the Italian Dominican theologian and Angelic Doctor of the Church, was schooled
quake in 1349, and sacked for a third time in 1799 during the French Revolution. It was dissolved as an abbey by the Italian government in 1866 and became a national monument of Italy that same year under the custody of its resident monks. The twentieth-century battles of World War II devastated Montecassino. A letter in the Saint John’s Abbey archives penned by Father Michael Marx (1913–1993) in 1944 provides graphic detail about the razing of the monastery—deemed by the U.S. to be a German defensive stronghold—on account of its strategic military importance.
monks,] Abbot of Monte Cassino, six Fathers, and three Brothers sweated out the bombardment. The rest of the community had been evacuated to Rome in October.
carved in walnut, is a complete ruin.”
Getty Museum/Wikimedia Commons
Inhabited initial E of a Latin breviary from Montecassino, 1153 Excita, D[omi]ne (Rouse up your power, Lord, we pray).
there as a boy. The monastery complex was built, destroyed, and rebuilt several times throughout its history, most recently after being bombed by the Allies on 15 February 1944 during World War II. King Charlemagne (c. 747–814) visited Montecassino, making a copy of Benedict’s Rule in the eighth century and actively promoted its implementation by multiple transcriptions—one of which survives today—in other monasteries throughout Western Europe. Montecassino was sacked by the Lombards (c. 580), sacked again in 884 by the Saracens, destroyed by an earth-
Father Michael, who was a student at Sant’Anselmo, the international Benedictine house of studies in Rome, during the war, approached the Abbey of Montecassino on foot following the destructive Allied bombing: Then we rounded the last bend, and I exclaimed, “There it is.” Before us, framed against a beautiful morning sky, was the empty shell of the former abbey, the home of St. Benedict and the cradle of our Order. I shall never forget that view. Here and there its walls were still standing, hiding the huge mass of stone and rubble behind. . . . I presume that you have read in the newspapers that Monte Cassino was destroyed. Monte Cassino was not destroyed— it was obliterated. The Italians have a word for it: polverizzato; and so have we: pulverized. That was my first impression as I approached the spot where a few months ago stood the venerable old abbey of St. Benedict. . . . [The resident
Father Michael’s description echoes both shock and relief: “Bending low and climbing over heaps of stone and debris, we entered the chapel of St. Benedict in the old tower, one of the most ancient parts. Thank God that the lower story of this is still standing. Here St. Benedict, according to tradition, lived and wrote his Rule.” Father Michael’s sadness is palpable: “Nothing remains of the church, I mean the upper church, but the empty shell. All the altars have been blotted out, including the High Altar. The famous choir, with its three hundred angels
Looting was pervasive after the bombing. German soldiers and Italian citizens were involved, but they were not alone. Father Michael recounts, “not all souvenir-hunters here were Germans. Some of our GI’s walked away with souvenirs. I saw it with my own eyes.”
The U.S. government paid for the restoration of Montecassino. Today the reconstructed abbey, its museum, and the surrounding landscape exhibit all the hallmarks of a shrine. The monastery welcomes visitors and is a popular pilgrimage site. An archive and library welcome the researcher and the traveler.
Many Saint John’s monks have visited or otherwise been associated with Montecassino over the years. Fathers Godfrey Diekmann (1908–2002) and Paschal Botz (1905–1998), who were studying in Europe, professed their solemn monastic vows here on the feast of Saint Benedict, 11 July 1929. Saint John’s centennial history, Worship and Work, notes that our confrere Brother Clement Frischauf (1869–1944)—the artist who created the mural of Christ Pantocrator in the Great Hall, the abbey’s first church—worked on the crypt of Monte Cassino (333), having been chosen as one of the artists to decorate the crypt of Saint Benedict and Saint Scholastica from 1900 to 1914. In addition, when Benedictines around the world commemorated the fourteenth centenary of the birth of Saint Benedict in 1880, they gathered at Montecassino. Saint John’s “Abbot Alexius attended these festivities with Father Peter Engel [our future abbot] as companion” (150).
In its role as motherhouse, the Abbey of Montecassino holds pride of place as the alma mater of Benedictine monasteries everywhere.
Brother Aaron Raverty, O.S.B., a member of the Abbey Banner editorial staff, is the author of Refuge in Crestone: A Sanctuary for Interreligious Dialogue (Lexington Books, 2014).
Convinced that the Abbey of Montecassino was occupied by German forces (it wasn’t) during the Second World War, Allied commanders ordered 250 bombers to drop 600 tons of explosives on the complex in February 1944. Following the war, the monastery was rebuilt—its fifth resurrection since being founded by Saint Benedict.
In August and September 1955, historian Father Colman Barry interviewed Father Louis Traufler, the monastic community’s senior member at the time, who shared his remembrances of monks of Saint John’s Abbey and their lifestyle in the late nineteenth century. The following profiles are excerpts of the transcribed interviews.
Augustine Brutscher
Brother Augustine Brutscher (1866–1894) wore a red beard. It was the rule at that time, established by the general chapter, that all the brothers and fathers had to wear a beard. No matter what color, density, or length it would be, but that all wore beards.
Henry Duerr
Brother Henry Duerr (1811–1894) would busy himself making rosaries. In fact, he was the first one to make rosaries and also the first one to grow the beads which we called—I don’t just know the name of them, but some of them are still used here. All rosaries at Saint John’s were made by Brother Henry.
The only lights they had outside of kerosene lamps were stubs of candle, and Brother Henry always carried his candle in his pocket so that if any emergency arose, he was always ready.
Prosper Mayer
Brother Prosper Mayer (1836–1894) was not accustomed to do any heavy work, so he made use of the hobby he acquired, growing flowers. He did this for the purpose of having natural flowers on the altar. He started raising geraniums in the brothers’ rooms and wherever he found space near a window to put his flowerpots. It pleased the abbot to see natural flowers on the altar because before that, we only had artificial ones, which also were used in almost every church in our vicinity. To help Brother Prosper, we built a little greenhouse on the south side of the quadrangle, and it was attached to the room which is
now the brothers’ locker room. They cut in that door that leads to the outside into the little greenhouse. It was no larger than about twelve feet by eight feet. Many times the sacristan or the novices had troubles to get flowers from him because he also had some reserved for the choir chapel, so that the abbot would always have fresh flowers on his altar when he said Mass.
[Mr. John Kaiser, who had been trained as a gardener in Europe] volunteered to help Brother Prosper grow flowers. He showed him many of the intricacies of gardening, such as making cuttings and proper waterings. Because Brother Prosper and Mr. Kaiser grew the cuttings during the winter, they were the first ones to have flower beds in front of the building. Mr. Kaiser was an artist at it, and Saint John’s became known for its beautiful flower beds, varied color and foliage and flowers, even to the present day. But we may say Brother Prosper was the originator of decorating the lawns in front of the building.
Thaddaeus Hoermann
One might say of Brother Thaddaeus Hoermann (1817–1897) that he was one of the cornerstones of Saint John’s. He was very helpful in building the early monastery. He was a great horseman, though he started by driving oxen. He did most of the hauling of the rocks that were used for the foundation and later on, when they opened up the
Brother William Baldus, O.S.B. (1844–1918)
Lionized by students and monks alike as a marvelous cook and baker, Brother William modified the original recipe for Johnnie Bread (Schwarzbrot, black bread), adding cracked wheat and other grains. His beard was as remarkable as his culinary skills.
brickyard, Brother Thaddaeus was kind of the supervisor. He was very active with the farm, and when the monastery bought the first farm at West Union, Brother Thaddaeus took care of it. He came home very seldom. He also wore a beard, or it was almost what you might call an excuse of a beard, for the hair were very few, and the length of those few hair made up for the density of the hair.
Adalbert Dilger
The specialty of Brother Adalbert Dilger (1827–1899) was raising horses. They had a horse for the use of the fathers, and this was a Hambletonian. Brother Adalbert
used to raise colts. These colts afterwards became the abbot’s team for driving. The abbot was known all through Stearns County on account of having the finest buggy horses in the county.
Brother Adalbert took special pride in the fact that he was the abbot’s horse furnisher. He was a very small man, with very thick whiskers and very neat; a man of very few words. He did most of the talking with the animals around the place.
Alexander Weiss
Brother Alexander Weiss (1824–1902) prayed almost every one of those early fathers and brothers that died at Saint John’s into heaven. He spent hours and hours there, day and night, praying with the father or brother who was dying. Whenever we saw him go to the room of one of the sick ones, we knew it wasn’t long until he died. And these brothers, they died like they would go to the dinner table. Nothing special about it at all. They were just getting ready for the journey. The death of every brother was an edifying death. There was none of that struggle you read about nowadays.
Benedict Kormann
Brother Benedict Kormann (1842–1903) had charge of the farm and the old mill down at the Watab. We had very few workmen in those days. All the farm work was done by the brothers, novices, and clerics. As soon as school closed, the clerics
were busy working the hay fields, putting up all the hay—we didn’t have tame hay like they have now. It was all the old sloughs and any lowland. All the hay that was used at Saint John’s was the so-called wild hay. We didn’t have the machinery that they have now. They cut the grass by hand; it was raked, shocked, and stacked and brought into the barn. When the wheat and oats were ripe, we had to follow the reapers and do the shocking, and afterwards bring it to the old barn that stood where the gymnasium is now, and it was
threshed in there, because they had to save the straw. The straw was used for straw ticks [mattresses]. In September the old straw was taken out of the bags, and the bags refilled and sewed. When we filled the straw ticks, we would fill them as tight as we could, until they would look like sausages, perfectly round. It took the students at least a month until they had a groove dug in there so that they wouldn’t roll out of the bed. The first night the boys came back, you could hear: “Boom! OOOH!
BOOMP! OOOOOOH!” Pretty soon another one, and this would keep on for weeks until they had a regular groove worn in the tick.
Agatho Gehret
Father Agatho Gehret (1868–1927) taught Latin, physics, and telegraphy. He was the first to get us in communication with the outside world by telegraph. We had word when Abbot
Bernard Locnikar [abbot, 1890–1894] was returning from Rome because Father Agatho rigged us up a telegraph set. He led the current into Saint John’s by the fence wire that enclosed the pasture. The first actual message that arrived from the outside was the one warning us of the abbot’s arrival. He later expanded his facilities by getting the permission of the railroad company to put the wire in all the way, instead of only to Saint Joseph. He was a very quiet man, had a long red beard.
Isidore Schwind
Brother Isidore Schwind (1851–1925) was a laundry man. He had complete charge of it and was the example of neatness. The laundry floor was clean enough to eat your meals on it. He was the most exact and never made any mistakes. He could really sort out the laundry. And then he’d mend all the clothes. He’d wash on Monday and Tuesday, and the rest of the week he’d mend.
Father Louis Traufler, O.S.B. (1874–1960), who professed his first vows in 1894, taught at Saint John’s Preparatory School and Saint John’s University until 1902 when he began decades of pastoral service in Minnesota, North Dakota, and the Bronx, New York. He is credited with organizing Saint John’s first football team in 1901 that played Saint Thomas, initiating that long-standing rivalry. At the time of his death at age 86, he was the oldest member of the monastic community.
John Meoska, O.S.B.Growing up, I frequently heard the expression “by hook or by crook.” “We’ll get this done by hook or by crook” means we will do whatever is necessary to complete the task. The origins of the expression are obscure but probably go back to medieval England when the landed gentry allowed the peasants to take from trees whatever branches they could reach with their shepherd’s hook or crook and use them for firewood. Lord Protector Oliver Cromwell, who leveled many a monastery in Ireland in the mid-1600s, supposedly said he would have to conquer the Waterford area by “Hooke and by Crooke”; that is, by first taking the towns of Hooke Head and Crooke.
Shepherds. Monasteries. Hooks and crooks. At some point in the history of Western monasticism, abbots adopted the shepherd’s crook or staff as one of the signs (along with the miter and ring) of the abbatial office. Typically, an abbot’s pastoral staff is referred to as a crosier. It symbolizes an abbot’s authority as the spiritual and canonical head of an abbey and his mission to govern and shepherd those under his care.
In June 2022 our confrere Father Jonathan Licari was elected Abbot President of the American-Cassinese Congregation. At his abbatial bless-
ing, Abbot Jonathan was presented with the ornate metal crosier of Archabbot Boniface Wimmer, who founded the first Benedictine monastery in the United States as well as the congregation. Soon after, Abbot Jonathan asked me to make him a crosier of wood. Similarly, at the time of Father Douglas
Mullin’s election as the abbot of Saint John’s Abbey, I fabricated a crosier for him.
Abbot Jonathan’s crosier is made of black walnut—my favorite wood—and Abbot Douglas’ is made of torrefied black ash. (Torrefied wood is heated to about 1000°F, resulting in a beautiful hue, and is very resistant to swelling, shrinking, or warping.) For both crosiers, the nodes—which connect the crook with the staff proper—are made of cherry. The design is my adaptation of a somewhat nontraditional crosier shape. I wanted something that was unique, simple, and beautiful.
I personalized Abbot Douglas’ crosier by engraving the four sides of the node with the Saint John’s Cross. To personalize Abbot Jonathan’s, I laser engraved the node, front and back, with the Saint John’s Cross and the two sides of the node with the front and back of the 1880 Jubilee Benedictine medallion—a reminder of his ministry to our wider congregation and a reference to the prayer of blessing for a Saint Benedict medal, which includes the entreaty: “May all who use these medals devoutly be blessed with health of soul and body” and “strive to exercise true charity and justice toward all.” So may it be for our abbots!
Father John Meoska is a woodworker and crosier craftsman at Saint John’s Abbey Woodworking.
Although once thought to have been a document postdating the Rule of Benedict (RB), the Rule of the Master (RM) is now widely accepted as having been written about 500–525, thus predating Saint Benedict’s Rule by several years. Of unknown authorship, the document, dubbed Regula Magistri by Benedict of Aniane (c. 747–821), is linguistically similar to the RB but three times longer. Neither a simple anthology of wisdom and counsel (like that of Basil) nor a standalone collection of regulations, instructions, and prohibitions governing the life of the community (like the Rule of Pachomius), the Rule of the Master contains precise regulations and theological and spiritual reflections as well as the reasoning for the regulations.
Out of ninety-five chapters in the Rule of the Master, seven deal specifically with the management of time for prayer and meals and frequently include references to how, where, why, and by whom a signal is sounded to alert the brethren. The following are excerpts from the seven chapters that address time management.
Chapter 31: The Hebdomadaries during the Night
Those whose week it is to [rouse the community for the Night Office] are to watch the clock [horologium] carefully night and day and remind everyone of the time for psalmody.
Chapter 32: The Manner of Rising from Sleep
When the time for the Night Office arrives, one of the chosen pair who is more vigilant rises and awakens the other. Both go to the bed of the abbot to awaken him by touching his feet. The abbot goes to the oratory to strike the signal, to bring the community together to begin the Night Office.
Chapter 33: The Divine Office during the Night
[During the winter, the Night Office is chanted before the cockcrow.] Those on watch must take care that the cock does not get ahead of or catch up with the Nocturns, because nights are long in winter. What is imperative in
winter is that cockcrow follow after the Nocturns are finished, because the nights are long.
[In the summer, the chant begins sometime after cockcrow.] In spring and summer, that is, from Easter to 24 September, which is the winter equinox, the brothers are to begin the Nocturns at cockcrow because of the shortness of the nights. The Nocturns are to be joined with Matins so that the brothers do not go back to bed after Nocturns, become drowsy and, overpowered by sweet morning sleep, not only miss Matins but be put to shame by saying even Prime late.
Chapter 34: The Divine Office during the Day
In summer, because of the short nights, let Vespers begin when the position of the sun is still quite high, so that the brothers, their limbs tired from the long labor in the heat and from fasting, may get additional sleep for their weary repose while it is still daylight, to supplement the short nights.
Chapter 49: The Night Office
Every Saturday, Vigils are to be celebrated from evening until the second cockcrow is heard, with Matins then following. The very name Vigils means that the brethren refrain from sleep. Then after Matins they take repose in their beds.
Chapter 52: Prayers without Psalms during the Night
After the first period of sleep, all are to rise and pray at their beds; the abbot concludes; and all lie down again. Likewise, after the Nocturns they go back to bed and, when the cock has crowed, all again rise and pray at their beds; the abbot concludes; and all lie down again. Hence the vigilant roosters (vigigallos) must be very vigilant during the nights and days of Lent, and during the day be careful to let the brethren know when the times for prayer have come.
Chapter 54: The Brethren Must Hurry to the Oratory
When the signal struck in the oratory indicates that the time for Divine Office has come, let the workers immediately drop their work, the artificers lay aside their tools, and the copyists not finish their letter. The foot of each brother must straightway, with gravity, hasten to the oratory and attention be directed to God.
Like bees going for honey, let the brethren swarm into the oratory in such a way that the holy oratory, which until then was a place of silence, is suddenly filled with the sound of the psalms, and the silence of the holy place moves to the deserted shops and tasks.
Moreover, whenever the signal is struck in the oratory, let all who hear it, make the sign of the cross on their forehead immediately, before hurrying off, and say in response: “Thanks be to God.”
Several points in the Rule of the Master regarding both the signal and the rooster are worthy of note. Not only is a signal given, but a signal is also struck (RM 32; 54). This would imply that the signal was generated by a type of gong—the same manner of sounding a signal occurred in the Rule
of Pachomius: “The one who strikes the signal to assemble the brothers for meals shall recite while striking” (RP 36). The Rule of the Master states: “When the signal struck in the oratory indicates that the time for the Divine Office has come, let the workers immediately drop their work, the artificers lay aside their tools, and the copyists not finish their letter” (RM 54). This is an intriguing, if not problematic point, however. We know, for example, that by the late fourth century, Marmoutier Abbey in Tours, France, had about eighty monks in the monastery (Jacques Fontaine, 1968). What possible signal would have been “struck in the oratory” that could have resounded throughout the monastery with such force and synchronicity that it brought monks quickly together from such work areas as remote tool sheds or scriptorium alike? Yet, the Rule of the Master insists that “Like bees going for honey, let the brethren swarm into the oratory” (RM 54). Before the invention of bells, it is hard to imagine such cohesiveness in ancient monasteries with their numerous unlit passageways, thick fieldstone walls, and separate sleeping dormitories! Such a tenuous route may explain why all the early monastic rules have so detailed and unforgiving passages on how those who come late to prayer or meals are to be dealt with.
Chapter 32 of the Rule of the Master is particularly puzzling. How are those who are to awaken the others able to calculate when that moment
On a cloudy day, when the sun hides its rays from earth, let the brothers, whether in the monastery or on the road or in the field, estimate elapsed time by careful calculation of the hours, and no matter what time it may be, the usual office is to be said. And whether the regular hour of the office is said before or after the exact time, in no case may the Work of God be left out.
Rule of the Master 54.18–20
arrives? In chapter 52 the RM designates them “vigilant roosters” (vigigallos) or even “police officers” (Jacques Biarne, 1984) but does not offer further details. This stands in contrast to Cassian who notes that the monk who awakens the community does so because “from the course of the stars (cursu stellarum), he carefully and frequently watches for the time appointed by the community and calls them to their service of prayer” (Institutes 2.17). Perhaps the vigilant roosters of the Rule of the Master derived their vigilance from their ability to read star clocks (constellations)—or maybe they simply programmed themselves psychologically to awaken with amazing accuracy!
The consequences for oversleeping, coming late for, or missing monastic functions are systematically regulated in these early rules and those that would follow in the next centuries. Monks coming late to prayer or other functions risked not only communal humiliation but also the disgrace of excommunication—being separated from the community they had worked so hard to join. The Rule of the Master provided for the step-by-step punishment for one’s indolent behavior and disrespect for the Work of God. Moreover, the punishment would be equally shared by innocent brothers incriminated solely by their association with the late-comers.
Chapter 73: Brothers Who Come Late
A brother who misses the first prayer or psalm of Nocturns, Matins, or Vespers, at him the abbot shakes his head in the oratory to inspire fear, and then outside privately admonishes him to amend. If he misses the second prayer or psalm, after the psalm is finished, let him be sharply rebuked there in the oratory in the presence of the community. But if he comes in after the third prayer or psalm, he and his deans [monks appointed by the abbot to supervise a group of ten brethren] are to be excommunicated immediately and expelled from the oratory and may not return for pardoning until and unless they have all equally made humble satisfaction.
At Prime, Terce, Sext, and None, however, anyone who does not arrive for the first prayer and the first psalm after the signal has been struck is to be sharply rebuked in the oratory in the presence of all. But anyone who comes after the second prayer or the second psalm is to be
excommunicated forthwith, and he with his deans must leave. Whoever is not present for the antiphon or the verse preceding the meal must eat and drink by himself and be deprived of the sign of the cross, without a blessing being given or received, without a word from anyone. Anyone who is not present at table for the verse after the meal is to receive at the next meal the same punishment of being segregated as he who before the meal did not speak with God.
The harsh measures taken here to emphasize the strict need for punctuality based on expedient timing seems unreasonably penal in nature since the measurement of time itself was less than precise and the ability to coordinate events uniformly was quixotic.
Unlike either the Rule of Benedict or Cassian’s Institutes, the Rule of the Master makes frequent
reference to cockcrow in regulating the recitation of the office, including the obligatory necessity of seasonal adjustment. With the RM cockcrow assumes a definitive role in regulating the multiphasic facets of the Night Office even to the point of becoming a polestar, a guiding principle. In winter with its longer nights, Nocturns are chanted before cockcrow, whereas in summer they are chanted afterwards. The chanting of Night Office then is correlated with the shifting durations of darkness and provides a regulatory link with the daylight hours that follow.
Whenever we discuss these early diurnal or nocturnal facets of the monastic schedule, we need to put aside contemporary impulses or biases to understand them exclusively on our own terms of defining time. Cockcrow shifts in relation to the subjective halfway point of darkness—commonly referred to as “midnight” but not to be confused with the clock time of 12 A.M. Since it moves with dawn, but the intention is to perform a midnight office, the relationship between cockcrow and the office would change. The Rule of the Master establishes a subjective midnight that shifts in relation to cockcrow but still happens at the same time every day (Kevin Birth, 2011). Not only is cockcrow indexical, unlike the arbitrary and conventional nature of a clock, but it also travels as a sound in ways that clock images do not. Sound attracts attention and can impose itself on activities. It can breach barriers and navigate corners.
Our story of timekeeping according to the Rule of the Master ends here. But stay tuned! Our next installment will continue this engaging exploration of how these humble beginnings lead us to timekeeping as we know it today.
Father Cyprian Weaver, O.S.B., a research scholar in the role of neuroendocrinology in regenerative and genomic medicine, is a retired associate professor of medicine, cardiology, at the University of Minnesota.
Psalm 139 is a favorite of many monks. Its opening verses outline the wondrous, mysterious journey of our life before God: “O Lord, you search me and you know me, you know my resting and my rising, you discern my purpose from afar” (139:1–2). Later, the psalmist marvels at the divine gift of life: “I thank you for the wonder of my being, for the wonders of all your creation” (139:14).
But this otherwise lovely psalm switches its tone at the end when it says in a sudden flare-up of emotion: “O God, that you would slay the wicked! . . . Do I not hate those who hate you, abhor those who rise up against you? I hate them with a perfect hate, and they are foes to me” (139:19, 21–22). And then, after the angry flare-up, the psalm just as suddenly returns to its peaceful tone: “O search me, God, and know my heart. O test me and know my thoughts. See that I follow not the wrong path and lead me in the path of life eternal” (139:23–24).
When our community prays Psalm 139, we omit the angry flare-up. Some years ago, a Mennonite minister was praying with us when Psalm 139 was recited. The minister later commented that by taking out the “angry” part of Psalm 139, we had made our prayer less honest, less human. This psalm portrays with remarkable
Anger is an acid that can do more harm to the vessel in which it is stored than to anything on which it is poured.
accuracy, he said, how we can be at peace; and in a split second, we are overcome with burning rage; and then we catch our breath and return to inner peace.
The psalms are amazingly honest about the reality of anger.
They don’t sanitize the human condition. They readily attribute this human emotion directly to God. By my count, the Grail translation of the Psalter has the word “anger” 51 times, “rage” 12 times, and “wrath” twice. “Lord, rise up in your anger” (Psalm 7:7). “Destroy them, Lord, in your anger” (Psalm 59:14). “So we are destroyed in your anger” (Psalm 90:7), but also “The Lord is compassion and love, slow to anger and rich in mercy” (Psalm 103:8).
Anger. I have it. You have it.
We all have it. Anger is part of every family, every marriage and monastery, every workplace. What are we to do about our anger?
Jesus says that whoever is angry with brother or sister will be liable to judgment (Matthew 5:22). Jesus sets a high standard: “If you bring your gift to the altar, and there recall that your brother or sister has anything against you, leave your gift there at the altar, go first and be reconciled with your brother or sister, and then come and offer your gift” (Matthew 5:23–24). Anger is not allowed, Jesus seems to say—no approaching the altar if there is alienation between you and a brother or sister. If we were to apply this passage literally, probably none of us would ever be eligible to receive Holy Communion! We wouldn’t be so worried only about keeping the divorced and remarried from receiving Communion. Rather, we would be worried about ourselves receiving Communion unworthily.
Evagrius, a fourth-century monk, wrote much about anger. He had no illusions about it. He did not think that we could simply switch off anger and be done with it. No, Evagrius said, anger is a lifelong reality for the Christian. He understood that anger can increase as we grow older—or at least we become more aware of it as we age.
Evagrius did not think we are at fault by being overcome with anger. The concern is what we do with anger. He seems to agree with modern psychologists who say that it is normal to feel anger. It is not acceptable, however, to speak or act in anger. We need to embrace anger appropriately, so it doesn’t become an unruly passion. We need to move from “I hate them with a perfect hate” to “O search me, God, and know my heart. Lead me in the path of life eternal.” We need to address anger as Saint Paul suggests: “Be angry but do not sin” (Ephesians 4:26). That is, feel your anger, admit your anger, but don’t sin by acting in anger.
The early monks believed that the psalms are a remedy for anger. Evagrius asserts, “Turbid anger is calmed by the singing of psalms.” The early monks found in the psalms their own unruly hearts. They used them as a sort of spiritual psychology to advance in greater honesty,
The most fierce passion is anger. It is defined as a boiling and stirring up of wrath against one who has given injury—or is thought to have done so. It constantly irritates the soul and, above all at the time of prayer, it seizes the mind and flashes the picture of the offensive person before one’s eyes.
self-awareness, and ability to negotiate those difficult emotions that separate us from God and our brothers and sisters.
Years ago I heard a story of two monks who were at odds about something. Sunday morning, one approached the other to apologize. “I cannot go to Eucharist,” he said, “in this state of non-reconciliation.” The monk, who valued the Eucharist as a communal, relational sacrament, was living out the words of Jesus, “If you bring your gift to the altar, go first and be reconciled, and then offer your gift.” Were the two monks suddenly rid of all their anger toward each other? I suspect not. But the Eucharist called them to reconciliation, to actions of peace coming from hearts not ruled by anger.
The liturgy, the Scriptures, the sacraments, have more healing power than we may realize. We come to the altar, angry and wounded, and are moved by the love of God to compassion in place of resentment, to understanding in place of judgmentalism, to forgiveness in place of revenge.
Father Anthony Ruff, O.S.B., organist and abbey music director, teaches liturgy and liturgical music at Saint John’s School of Theology and Seminary.
The daily routine within the cloister is enlivened by the antics of the “characters” of the community. Here are stories from the Monastic Mischief file.
Night Silence
Brother’s snoring disturbed a number of his confreres during Evening Prayer recently. He was so loud, he kept them awake!
Self-understanding
I’m not bossy.
I just know what you should be doing.
Father Cyril’s tee-shirt
Q & A
Thank you for your attention today. I want to be respectful of your schedule, so we have time for just one, long, rambling, self-referential question, totally unrelated to the topic of today’s discussion. Anyone? Anyone?
Winter Wardrobe
A confrere posted a rather testy note on the community bulletin board, suggesting that someone with hot fingers had taken his handsome winter coat (the one with the remains of a 19thcentury beast around the collar).
Gloss:
“It’s been hanging in the old basement washroom for weeks.”
Compromise
Compromise: the art of letting other people have your way.
Change
The only one who likes change is a baby with a poopy diaper.
Halfhearted Hospitality
A worm welcome to all who have come today. Half a nice day.
The First Shall Be Lost
As the storm raged, the captain realized his ship was sinking fast. So he shouted out, “Anyone here know how to pray?”
Just one guy stepped forward and said, “Aye, captain, I know how to pray.”
“Good,” said the captain. “You pray while the rest of us put on our lifejackets—we’re one short.”
They say . . .
To do good is noble. To tell others to do good is even nobler and much less trouble.
Attributed to Mark Twain
More Church Bulletin Bloopers
Don’t miss our annual parish bazaar Sunday night. The church will host an evening of fine dining, superb entertainment, and gracious hostility.
The women of the church have cast off clothing of every kind. They may be seen in the basement on Friday afternoon or by appointment.
All are welcome to this month’s Bible Study presentation. Attend and you will hear an excellent speaker and heave a healthy supper.
The members of our parish finance committee unveiled our church’s new campaign slogan this week: We Upped Our Pledge. Up Yours.
Weight Watchers will meet at 7 P.M. Monday at the First Presbyterian Church. Please use the large double doors at the side entrance.
The Low Self-esteem Support Group will meet Thursday at 7 P.M. Please use the back door.
Thanks to the members of our awesome parish council. The agenda was adopted, the minutes were approved, and the financial secretary gave a grief report.
Next Wednesday evening there will be hymn singing in the park across the street from the church. Bring a blanket and come prepared to sin.
We received word of the sudden passing of Rev. Olson this morning during the worship service. Now let’s sing “Praise God from Whom All Blessings Flow.”
Winter temperatures in Minnesota, like the children of Lake Wobegon, have been above average! Steady rain on Christ mas Eve and Day helped to make December the warmest, wettest ever recorded in the state. For a week in mid-January, with windchills in the -30s°F, winter enthusiasts had a brief taste of Minnesota’s longest season. But by month’s end, daytime temps rose to the 50s, spurring the earliest beginning of Saint John’s maple syrup production. The color scheme for Ash Wednesday and Valentine’s Day was white— with two inches of snow brightening the landscape—but temps in the 40s and 50s the following week helped restore the bleak brown terrain. Even with a windchill of -2 on Leap Year Day, Minnesota had its warmest meteorological winter ever recorded (since 1871). Brisk winds contributed to Lake Sagatagan opening on the
afternoon of 3 March, marking the earliest ice-out date—the previous record, set in 2000, was 15 March—and the shortest season of ice cover, 96 days.
With temps in the 60s and 70s in mid-March, records throughout the state continued to fall.
One record will stand forever: Neither death, nor life, nor things present, nor things to come, “nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate
us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 8:38–39). He is risen! Alleluia!
December 2023
• With joy, thanksgiving, and birthday cake, Abbot John Klassen and the monastic community honored Brother Luke Dowal [below], who turned one hundred years young on 18 December—giving thanks to God for the gift of Luke’s life; and giving thanks to Luke, for his sixty-three years of good cheer, steady service, and faithful observance of monastic life.
Brother Luke is the third monk of Saint John’s Abbey to reach the centenary mark, following Fathers Angelo Zankl (1901–2007) and Kilian McDonnell (b. 1921).
• The pouring rain of Christmas 2023 was no match for the pouring of wax in the abbey candle shop throughout 2023.
Father John Meoska, abbey chandler, reports that 116 (12") altar candles, 10 (40")
Advent wreath/Easter candles, 5 (52") Easter candles, 6 (24") Epiphany/Good Friday candles, and 14 (14") table candles were produced in 2023. Though most of the candles are used for abbey liturgical services, Saint John’s does sell Easter and Advent candles to neighboring parishes.
• From 16 October until 31 December, Saint John’s hosted its twenty-second controlled deer hunt since 1933. The intent of the archery hunt is to reduce the deer population to a level that allows natural regeneration of the forest ecosystem. The significant browsing of vegetation by hungry deer disrupts the ecological balance of the woods, thereby threatening the health of the forest, deer, and other wildlife. Twenty-eight deer were taken this season.
January 2024
• Following a festive Epiphany lunch on 7 January, the Abbey Schola sang a prayer of blessing for Abbot John on his final day as head of the community. Prior Eric Hollas opened a short program, reflecting on Abbot John’s twenty-three years of faithful service and bestowing on him dozens of cards and letters of gratitude written by the monks. Teary eyes and prolonged applause conveyed the affection and respect the community holds for Abbot John and his grace-filled tenure. Ad multos annos, Abba John!
• During the initial balloting on the morning of 9 January, Father Douglas Mullin was elected the eleventh abbot of Saint John’s Abbey. At a thanksgiving prayer service following the election, Abbot Douglas reflected: “I want to offer my sincere gratitude to everyone here and around the world, who surrounded our monastic community with prayers for the Holy Spirit to be with us. I’m deeply humbled and grateful that among all the bright, talented, faith-filled members of our community, my brother monks have chosen to call me to serve as your abbot.”
discernment of monastic life in Collegeville. With the approval of the abbot of Saint Peter’s Abbey and of our monastic chapter, Denys transferred his vows to Saint John’s Abbey, where he continues to listen with the ear of his heart (Rule Prol.1) to the promptings of the Spirit.
• On 26 January Abbot Douglas and the monastic community blessed and formally welcomed Brother Denys Janiga as a junior monk of Saint John’s Abbey. Born in Bowmanville, Ontario, Canada, Brother Denys began his discernment of monastic life at Saint Peter’s Abbey in Muenster, Saskatchewan, where he professed his first vows in 2021. More recently, while studying at Saint John’s School of Theology and Seminary, he felt called to continue his
February 2024
• The somber Lenten atmosphere of the abbey and university church was enlivened on 23 February when maestro organist Greg Zelek (Madison Symphony Orchestra) and cello virtuoso Thomas Mesa (Sphinx Virtuosi) presented a concert of works, solo or duet, for organ and cello. The classmates from The Julliard School opened the program with “Méditation” from Thaïs by Jules Massenet and concluded the evening’s entertainment with
Sonata for Organ and Cello, written by another Julliard classmate, Daniel Ficarri. The scores of students, neighbors, and monks in attendance also delighted in several solo performances, including J. S. Bach’s Prelude from Cello Suite no. 1 in G Major, BWV 1007; and George Gershwin’s “I Got Rhythm,” arranged by Mr. Zelek.
Two days later, on 25 February, an overflow crowd was moved by a stellar performance of Mozart’s Requiem featuring the St. Cloud Symphony Orchestra (with principal conductor Hisham Bravo Groover), the Great River Chorale (with Mary Kay Geston, artistic managing director), and the College of Saint Benedict and Saint John’s University Chamber Choir (with director Bradley Miller).
glory of Edgar Allan Poe’s noisy poesy on the morning of 5 March.
Nonstop, for more than thirty minutes, how it clanged and clashed and roared! The unchained melody, the moaning and groaning of the bell, the frustration of tintinnabulation was the result of mechanical malfuncuation. But thanks to the Saint John’s electricians, nevermore.
March 2024
What a gush of euphony voluminously wells! . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
To the swinging and the ringing Of the bells, bells, bells, Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells—
• Not a southern belle. Not Northwestern Bell. No, no, no, it was the bell banner Benedict bell that tolled the story and the
• The 2024 edition of Saint John’s sweetest season was dripping with records. The unusually mild winter resulted in the earliest recorded tapping, cooking, and bottling for the community’s maple syrup production. The record-making season was launched on 29 January—the earliest date ever recorded, according to Brother Walter Kieffer—when 150 taps were put out, followed by some 1200 more over the next three days. On 2 February, 20 jugs of syrup were capped—the earliest bottling ever. For the next six weeks, students, neighbors, and monks, assisted the staff of the abbey arboretum in collecting and hauling sap and in the cooking/ bottling process. The continued warm weather brought the season to an end on the Ides of March, at which point a record 23,515 gallons of sap had been collected, producing a record 577 gallons of syrup—the previous record, set in 1968, was 566 gallons. How sweet it is!
Excerpted from Confrere, newsletter of Saint John’s Abbey:
26 February 1974
[Our confrere] Most Rev. Paul Leonard Haggerty, Bishop of Nassau, spoke to the community on February 5. Calling The Bahamas “your mission as well as mine,” Bishop Paul Leonard reported to his stockholders and answered questions about the present situation in The Bahamas and his hopes for the future. He spoke of the extremely good relations that the Church in The Bahamas has with the new government. He specifically asked that Saint John’s send two teams of two men each to work in the area of adult education for the preparation of catechists.
Father Luke Steiner was one of the two resource persons present for a Protestant-Catholic Dialogue at Concordia College in Moorhead, Minnesota, on January 22. The theme of the dialogue was Peter in the New Testament, and Father Luke spoke on “Peter in the Pauline Literature” before discussing “Implications for an Ecumenical Understanding of the Papacy” with Dr. Joseph Burgess, a member of the Great Plains Institute of Theology.
26 March 1974
On March 12 Professor Norman James, a member of the university psychology faculty, spoke to the community and answered questions on the subject of racism. Calling blackness “a collective aspect that seeks acceptance, apart from any individual’s worth,” he described some of the attitudes of the Black students at Saint John’s and particularly asked for the community’s support in confronting and correcting racist attitudes in neighboring communities.
that manufactures medallions) reports that it has been flooded recently with inquiries about the “anti-Satan” medal. The executive director of the firm states, “Last December, when The Exorcist movie began to make headlines, we started noticing the calls and letters.
Mr. John Dwyer, business manager of Liturgical Press, confirms that a similar surge in Benedictine medal orders has been noticed.
Better than Bottled Ælred Senna, O.S.B.
Iwas pondering aloud at the lunch table one day what recipe I might share in this issue of Abbey Banner, and one of my confreres asked, “Have you ever given a recipe for salad dressing?” Eureka! I realized that I had not shared a saladdressing recipe, and it’s such a snap to make. It’s so much better than anything you can buy, and you can customize it to suit your own taste.
The letters on the arms of the cross are abbreviations for a Latin prayer: May the holy cross be my light! Let not the devil be my guide!
Operation Sap-Tap has begun with the placing of about 3000 maple-tree taps in the Saint John’s woods. As soon as the days get warm and the nights get cold, the operation will be in full swing with the help of Mr. Ralph Meyer, Brothers Mark Kelly and Walter Kieffer, the novices and candidates, and junior monks.
26 April 1974
Interest in devils and demons has boosted sales of the Medal of Saint Benedict, according to a recent Associated Press release. The Catholic Art Guild (a Canfield, Ohio, firm
Father Godfrey Diekmann attended a meeting in London, April 24–27, of the International Consultation on English Texts. This is a gathering of Catholics and Protestants of all English-speaking countries who are working on texts of the traditional prayers we have in common.
24 May 1974
Brothers Walter Kieffer and Arnold Jirik and Fathers Paschal Botz, Roger Botz, and Sebastian Schramel caught about 190 gallons or 1500 pounds of smelt at Split Rock River near Silver Bay during the recent smelt run. There are about 150 cleaned smelt to a gallon.
The recipe here is for a basic vinaigrette. Feel free to increase or decrease the amount of acid, depending on whether you like it more or less vinegary. Similarly, add the fruit or don’t. Use a bit more sugar if you like it sweet or leave out the sugar altogether. The mustard serves as an emulsifier; that is, it will help the dressing hold together. If you leave it out, the dressing will begin to separate as soon as you stop shaking it. Instead of canola oil, you can use olive oil. But remember that olive oil will set up when refrigerated, so if you won’t use the whole batch of dressing at once, it is best to use canola or another salad oil.
The bottom line is, once you start making your own, I think you’ll be hooked, and storebought dressings just won’t have much of an appeal anymore!
Basic Vinaigrette
(Makes about 1 cup)
• ⅓ cup vinegar (red or white wine vinegar, balsamic vinegar, lime juice, or a combination)
• 1 tablespoon water
• 2 teaspoons Dijon mustard
• 1 small clove garlic, minced
• 1 to 1½ teaspoons brown sugar, more if you like your dressing sweet
• Salt to taste, about ¼ teaspoon
• Freshly ground black pepper to taste
• 2 to 3 teaspoons chopped fresh herbs, such as basil or cilantro (or ½ teaspoon dried)
• A few crushed berries, such as strawberries or raspberries (optional)
• ½ to ¾ cup canola or other salad oil
Combine ingredients, except oil, in a small jar with a lid. Shake to combine well.
Add oil and shake again.
Taste and adjust seasonings, as desired—i.e., add more vinegar or more oil, more salt or pepper, etc.
Brother Ælred Senna, O.S.B., is publisher of Give Us This Day and abbey refectorian.
Please join the monastic community in prayerful remembrance of our deceased family members and friends:
Russell “Russ” Anderson
William “Bill” Bazan
Robert N. “Bob” Becker
Patrick “Pat” Beckermann
William J. “Bill” Brausen
Rita Budig, O.S.B.
James Callahan
James William “Bill” Clarey, F.S.C.
Abbot Victor J. Clark, O.S.B.
Gabriel Coless, O.S.B.
Mary Jane Cournoyer, O.S.B.
Carol Crawford
John W. “Jack” Dallas
Marjorie E. “Marge” Dallas
Bernard William “Bernie”
DeLaRosa
H. Dieter Dellmann
Cecil John Donahue, O.S.B.
Michael Martin Donahue
James “Jim” Glover
Abbot Louis Hacker, O.S.B.
Colleen Haggerty, O.S.B.
Michael James Hensley
Catherine Lee Houston-Cameron
Telan Hu, O.S.B.
James H. Huff
Leona Margaret Jenniges
Theresa Jodocy, O.S.B.
Bradley A. “Brad” Johannes
Jayden Lee “Jadie” Kline
Julia Margaret Ladner
Charles “Chuck” Lauer
Carolyn Law, O.S.F.
Cyprian Luambano
Mary MacDonald
Patricia Ann McGrane
Joseph O’Connor “Joe” Neumeier
Anthony A. “Tony” Nicolini
Lorraine Olmscheid, O.S.F.
Susan Marie “Sue” Palucci
Patrick J. Paur
Gregory H. Poser, O.S.C.
Richard Rolfson
Mary Ann Rymanowski
Judith “Judy” McCartin Scheide
Pete Schmitz
Richard Michael Schmitz
Andriette Schommer, O.S.B.
Gertrude “Trudy” Schommer, O.S.F.
Mayolia A. “Maye” Schraut
Robert E. “Bob” Schutzius
Rev. Bob Schwartz
Tanya M. Shorter
Gary William Starzecki
Paul J. “Jeff” Stephens
Charles A. “Chuck” Stock
Rev. Harlan B. Strong, Obl.S.B.
David Michael Strumpf
Kathryn Anne “Kathy” Taylor
Sylvester “Sy” Theisen
Thomas Nicholas “Tom” Thelen
Jon A. Theobald
Robert “Bob” “Veek” Verkuilen
Rose Frances Wagner
Michael Thomas “Mike” Wesbur
Rose M. Zumwinkle
Precious in the eyes of the LORD is the death of God’s faithful ones.
Psalm 116:15
A Monk’s Chronicle
Father Eric Hollas, O.S.B., offers spiritual insights and glimpses into the life of the Benedictine community at Saint John’s Abbey in a weekly blog, A Monk’s Chronicle. Visit his blog at: monkschronicle.wordpress.com.
Father Don’s Daily Reflection
Father Don Talafous, O.S.B., prepares daily reflections on Scripture and living the life of a Christian that are available on the abbey’s website at: saintjohnsabbey.org/reflection/.
Timothy Backous, O.S.B.While viewing the celebration of the 100th birthday party of a Pearl Harbor survivor, I heard an old soldier, with glistening eyes, share these words: “We all gave some, but some gave all.” It was an emotional tribute to his friends and compatriots who had experienced, firsthand, that day “which will live in infamy.”
The similarities of military life and monastic life are too numerous to overlook. Both are rooted in vigorous discipline, familiar routines, and uncompromising loyalty. They demand all-in dedication to a “way” of life that emphasizes the common good and frowns on individualism as an ultimate value. The clothing is the same for all. The food is sufficient but not extravagant. The living quarters are warm, dry, safe, and spare. There aren’t too many differences between a military base and a monastery!
This is even more evident in what that centenarian serviceman had to say about his fellow soldiers. For some, the notion of sacrifice is limited by a comfort zone that safeguards one’s giving threshold. While it’s nice to serve others, there is a limit, we might hear ourselves saying. But for other soldiers and monks, the sacrifice is total, including a disregard for personal comfort. It seems their lives are geared toward such noble efforts, and their most intense joy is serving others with no expectation of compensation or reciprocation.
Every monastery has a handful of intensely devoted men or women who seem intent on making service to others the purpose of their day, and our community is no exception. Besides having a fulltime job (maybe several of them!), there are monks who cook, clean, decorate, and serve meals as well as sing, offer hospitality, preside and preach at the Eucharist, and generally make themselves available for daily chores that any household needs if it is to function. On any given weekend, there are community members who spend their time in parishes, chaplaincies, and other engagements in service to others. But, to be clear, they are not performing something considered “extraordinary”! Rather, what they do is the true reason for monasteries to exist.
A communal life of prayer and work (ora et labora) is an ongoing search for God so that we, in turn, may serve each other and the world around us. Thank God we have those among us who understand the importance of this truth. That “some give all” is as important to a monastery as it is to the patriots who do so for their country.
Their most intense joy is serving others.
They should vie in paying obedience one to another— following not what they consider useful for themselves, but rather what benefits another.
Rule of Benedict 72.7
The monks of Saint John’s Abbey welcome people of all faiths to share our hospitality for a time of spiritual renewal. In addition to joining the monks for daily prayer and Eucharist, guests are also welcome to participate in retreats sponsored by our Abbey Spiritual Life Program.
Saint John’s offers two kinds of individual retreats: private or directed. You choose the dates, the length, and the kind you want.
Private retreats provide solitude for rest, reading, reflection, and prayer.
Directed retreats provide the private retreat experience plus regular one-to-one conversation with a spiritual director.
For additional information or to register, visit abbeyguesthouse.org; call the Spiritual Life Office at 320.363.3929; or email us at: spirlife@osb.org