Abbey Banner - Winter 2019 by Saint John's Abbey

Abbey Banner Winter 2019-20

Age to age shall proclaim your works, shall declare your mighty deeds, shall speak of your splendor and glory, tell the tale of your wonderful works. Psalm 145:4-5

Robin Pierzina, O.S.B.

This Issue Abbey Banner Magazine of Saint John’s Abbey Winter 2019-20

Volume 19, number 3

Published three times annually (spring, fall, winter) by the monks of Saint John’s Abbey. Editor: Robin Pierzina, O.S.B. Design: Alan Reed, O.S.B. Editorial assistants: Aaron Raverty, O.S.B.; Dolores Schuh, C.H.M. Abbey archivist: David Klingeman, O.S.B. University archivists: Peggy Roske, Elizabeth Knuth Circulation: Ruth Athmann, Tanya Boettcher, Chantel Braegelmann, Cathy Wieme Printed by Palmer Printing Copyright © 2019 by Order of Saint Benedict Saint John’s Abbey 2900 Abbey Plaza Box 2015 Collegeville, Minnesota 56321-2015 abbeybanner@csbsju.edu saintjohnsabbey.org/banner/ ISSN: 2330-6181 (print) ISSN: 2332-2489 (online)

Change of address: Ruth Athmann P. O. Box 7222 Collegeville, Minnesota 56321-7222 rathmann@csbsju.edu Phone: 800.635.7303

Holy, holy, holy is the LORD of hosts! Isaiah 6:3

Cover: Detail of the apse mural (1934) of the Great Hall, first church of Saint John’s Abbey, painted by Brother Clement Frischauf Photo: Alan Reed, O.S.B.

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Illuminating Hope Abbot John Klassen, O.S.B.

“I am determined to have our monasteries [be] not only schools of religion and of sciences, but also nurseries of the fine arts. . . . It is the duty of monasteries to foster, to promote, and to spread art, especially religious art.

n the film The Shawshank Redemption, the lead character, Andy Dufresne, is thrown in the hole for two weeks for piping a Mozart opera over the prison compound. When he emerges in good spirits, his friends ask how he managed to survive the time of total deprivation. Andy attributes it to the music he carried in his imagination and the singular capacity of music to assist in staying positive. Music supports hope and lifts us up.

Abbot Boniface Wimmer, O.S.B., 1849

This issue of Abbey Banner celebrates the role of the arts in monastic life. Since its founding in 1856, the arts have animated the lives, the lifestyle, and the vision of the Saint John’s community. Over the decades the Saint John’s calendar has been punctuated with musical and dramatic performances by the monks, the students, and staff. Painters and poets, photographers and filmmakers, woodworkers, sculptors, and designers have helped form and enhance our lives, our liturgy, and our ministry. Father Nathanael Hauser introduces us to a monastic art form, Beuronese art, and one of its master practitioners, Brother Clement Frischauf. Inspired by a painting of Saint Martin of Tours, Dr. Martin Connell reflects on how each of us can respond, through our ordinary lives, to God’s call to holiness. The late Father Conrad Diekmann, himself an artist, opens our senses to the world around us through his poetic observations.

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Beuronese crucifix, Maria Laach Abbey

Christians are familiar with these Isaian texts, but they may not have encountered the material in which they are immersed. Monks hear these powerful condemnations of Assyria and Israel, and their leaders for being ruthless, disobedient, arrogant, and unfaithful. The messianic predictions are bold expressions of hope, calls to conversion, calls to fidelity to God, and calls to integrity in leadership. They support belief in a God who will not give up on the human race and our desire for a peaceable kingdom. Not wishful thinking, these prophetic scriptural verses are embedded in the real world of history, economics, and politics of the day.

Since the mid-1800s, the monks of Saint John’s Abbey have been stewards of this special place called Collegeville. Stewardship, caring for the land and lakes, being inspired by the beauty of God’s creation are not, however, the exclusive domain of monks. Ms. Augie Witkowski shares her experiences as a student land manager in the abbey arboretum, reflecting on the bond she feels to the environment and how that environment and Benedictine values continue to inspire her. Stewardship is not limited to the land nor even to the goods within our monastery. In 1965 Saint John’s expanded its stewardship efforts to preserving (photographing) manuscripts in European monasteries. Over the decades, the work of the Hill Museum & Manuscript Library (HMML) has grown exponentially, now including millions of manuscript pages from Europe, the Middle East, Asia, and Africa. Father Columba Stewart, the 2019 Jefferson Lecturer in the Humanities, highlights the significance of HMML’s work and what we have to learn from other cultures.

The Saint John’s Bible illumination captures the singular power of Christian hope and the significance of words and promises remembered. We need hope in the face of fear, failure, confusion; discouragement or cynicism and indifference toward the good. This illumination is utterly different from those created for the Valley of the Dry Bones (Ezekiel 37), the Suffering Servant (Isaiah 53), or the Temple Vision (Isaiah 6), with a light infused color palette, and a brilliant emphasis on the texts of Isaiah. The original flashes with gold and platinum such that the whole page seems to be alive.

We open and close this issue of Abbey Banner with reflections on hope from Abbot John Klassen and Father Timothy Backous. We also explore a new site for the Benedictine Volunteer Corps; meet a monk from China, the Philippines, and Japan; toast the new year with stories of Minnesota 13; and more. Along with Abbot John and the monastic community, the staff of Abbey Banner offers prayers and best wishes to all our readers for a blessed Christmas and Epiphany and for a happy and healthy new year. Peace! Brother Robin Pierzina, O.S.B.

For Christians, the seasons of Advent and Christmas have long been associated with the theme of hope. The Saint John’s Bible has a joyful illumination entitled Messianic Predictions by artist Thomas Ingmire. The illumination takes its inspiration from the “Halleluiah” chorus of Handel’s Messiah, that jubilant and well-known masterpiece that memorializes the titles of a messianic figure envisioned in Isaiah 9 and 11: King of Kings, Lord of Lords, Prince of Peace, Everlasting Father. Even people who have never sung it know the words and the music. Mr. Ingmire’s rendition also references the young woman who “shall bear a son, and shall name him Immanuel”—God is with us (Isaiah 7:14).

At the conclusion of The Shawshank Redemption, Andy Dufresne leaves a written message for his friend, Red. “Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies.”

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The Gloria

Genevieve Glen, O.S.B. Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to people of good will. Luke 2:14

n the skies over Bethlehem on that memorable night long ago, the Christmas angels taught us the first two lines of a song we still sing every Sunday, solemnity, and feast. Over 2000 years—that’s a good run for such a simple lyric! We remember it especially this month, though, because

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it announces the very first Christmas present: “on earth peace to people of good will.” As the daily news reports another terrorist attack on a busy city street, the current death toll of the war in wherever, the latest school shooting, or one more domestic murder, there is no other gift we long for quite so urgently. Yet the gift

doesn’t look like much at first. Contemporary Christmas-card art notwithstanding, this peace isn’t that mountaintop banquet where lion, bear, and wolf sit down for a meal with calf, lamb, and kid goat—the latter trio as table companions rather than menu items. It isn’t even the quiet that follows after spears have been hammered into farm tools, and nuclear technology is used for medicine rather than weapons. It comes before all those things and makes them possible. This peace is a person—a newborn baby, in fact,

maybe one of thousands born that night. The gift comes with a name tag: Jesus. That’s it. Just Jesus. Angels have to explain to parents and shepherds alike that the name means “God will save us.” But how? Sorry, no user’s manual provided. The gift is oddly wrapped too. Where we might look for gold foil and red velvet ribbons to assure us of its worth, all we see is swaddling clothes, bands of ordinary cloth that might cover any poor couple’s baby. But God has a long history of wrapping valuable gifts in unpretentiousness: a baby in an Egyptian reed basket, a shepherd boy with a slingshot, simple Passover bread like the bread on supper tables all over Jerusalem. “Ordinary” is our clue that God, not Santa Claus, has delivered this first Christmas gift. Ordinary, but oh-so-valuable. The community of believers over time wrote a thank-you note, quite a long one—the Gloria as we now know it. Tucked among the lines praising the gift’s giver—our Trinitarian God no less!—is a hidden price tag: “only begotten Son.” We tend to breeze right by that phrase out of long habit. But think about it: God gave us not a trinket picked up at the local bazaar, not even an impressive warrior king like David, but God’s own and only Son. This is the One who would become the “Lamb of God” sent to carry away our own sins and dispose of them.

That’s no ordinary lamb. It’s the Paschal Lamb, slain to shield God’s beloved people—us—from ultimate death. John’s Gospel (3:16) seems almost to stammer over the explanatory note later attached to the gift: “God so loved the world . . . .” We could read the amount on the price tag as “priceless”—but it isn’t. Not to Father, Son, and Spirit, who paid the bill. But didn’t the angels say that first Christmas gift was “peace,” not a person, never mind this person? Yes. But one of the Advent prophets, Micah, says they are one and the same thing: “he shall be peace” (Micah 5:24). He, who “is our peace,” will bring our sorely divided hearts and our wounded world into one on the cross, the final price tag (see Ephesians 2:14-16).

God, not Santa Claus, has delivered this first Christmas gift.

This year, when we sing the ancient and perhaps too familiar hymn, let’s remember what that first Christmas gift really was and is. Our thank-yous—“We praise you, we bless you, we adore you”—may not sound any more angelic than usual, but our hearts will carry the tune with conviction before the God whose love has more than earned them. Sister Genevieve Glen, O.S.B., a contemplative nun of the Abbey of St. Walburga, Virginia Dale, Colorado, is the author of Sauntering Through Scripture: A Book of Reflections (Liturgical Press, 2018).

“The Gloria” by Genevieve Glen, appeared in the December 2018 issue of Give Us This Day (volume 8, number 12) [www. giveusthisday.org] published by Liturgical Press, Collegeville, Minnesota, and is reprinted with permission.

O.S.B.,

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Benedictine Volunteer Corps that I was visually disrespecting all the students to my left for half of the class. How? By crossing my right leg over my left leg, I was exposing several students to the bottom of my shoe—which is a sign of disrespect in this culture.

Saint Benedict of the Copts Cairo, Egypt Kirk Harrington

norkeling in the Blue Hole of the Red Sea (created by the direct impact of a meteorite crashing into this area ages ago) is one of the highlights of my time in Egypt so far. The most beautiful place I’ve ever visited is called Moon Blue Lagoon, a sort of beach-hut resort thirty minutes away by speedboat from the main tourist city of Dahab. It’s home to lots of fun stuff, including a kitesurfing community—and masters of this activity who are eager to teach anyone for a pretty penny. A beautiful mountain range runs alongside the beach to the west, and a colorfully blue lagoon to the east. I spent a couple hours on the beach admiring and studying the surfer’s technique, hoping that one day I can skip the expensive kite-surfing course and take a few ignorant and naive injuries, learning the hard way instead. Someday, Inshallah (God willing)! As the first volunteers at a young monastery, Saint Benedict of the Copts, Dominik Bame and I feel like pioneers on some days and like guinea pigs on others! We are the first members of the Benedictine Volunteer Corps (BVC) in Egypt, so we cannot consult former volunteers about the monastic life, what the work entails, or where to hang out and relax. As students of business

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Benedictine Volunteers share a meal and hospitality in Cairo.

and philosophy, we have both learned to embrace ambiguity. But it’s not easy. One example of this ambiguity is our daily teaching experiences. We tutor two monastery candidates English, Monday through Thursday, but these candidates don’t speak English, and we don’t speak Arabic! We will continue to work on improving this skill set! One of the universal positives of the BVC is the raw cultural exposure that all volunteers constantly deal with. At times this exposure can be fun, a beautiful experience. At other times it can be frightening or dismaying. It is always mind-expanding. And this is immensely beneficial as it teaches us the ability to react to any situation with calmness and a level head. The BVC program gives its volunteers the opportunity to grow as individuals through difficult times, as well as to learn to enjoy ourselves as we revel in the daily life of the local culture. These experiences are

invaluable and will be cherished and utilized throughout the rest of our lives. Egypt is incredibly hot, but the heat here is unlike our Minnesota heat and humidity. Egyptian heat causes one’s skin to feel like it’s burning from the inside out! Because there’s little airconditioning, we are constantly using our marwaha (fan). Spoken English is not very common here, so Dominik and I like to say that when we’re not physically hot, we are mentally heated (from remaining silent to disguise our American identity, or having to slow down our English to be understood, or to try to interpret Egyptian English). We are also learning—again, the hard way—how easy it is to violate cultural norms. For example, after teaching my first class alone at the cathedral in Ismailia, I was pulled aside by a student. She made me aware

The harsh Egyptian climate is another of our challenges. Every time I wear my glasses outdoors, I end up taking them off to clear the dust from the lenses and rubbing away the sand-scratches that they have collected. The beautiful Egyptian Sahara creates dusty, sand-filled air that has a drying effect on cars, animals, and people! I must shower thoroughly each day, or I break

out on my face, arms, and neck. The dust collects in the hair follicles and sweat glands, making healthy skin nearly impossible to maintain. We are having fun learning the local dialect and trying it out in conversation with our Egyptian friends. Nearly everyone I encounter tells me that I look Egyptian! So, when they begin speaking Arabic, and I respond with, “Sorry, just English or Spanish,” they are surprised and Above: Father Maximilian Musendai (left) and Bishop Marcarius of Ismailia, Egypt, welcome Kirk Harrington and Dominik Bame (right). Below: Kirk visiting the Great Pyramid of Giza.

Photos: BVC archives

delighted to learn where I come from and what I’m doing here. I’ve found this is a great time to test out my new Arabic vocabulary! People respect and appreciate that I’m teaching English and learning Arabic as well as staying in Egypt for more than a couple of weeks.

eously teachers and students. Each day that we teach, we are presented with opportunities to shut up, listen, and learn about the Egyptian culture or the Arabic language. I thoroughly enjoy learning Arabic, so I keep my mufakkira (journal) on me for quick note taking while learning new words or phrases during conversation. Besides the language, there is so much to journal about each day as Dominik and I set the foundation for a new Benedictine Volunteer Corps site and friendships that will last a lifetime.

Dominik and I recognize that we are simultan-

Mr. Kirk Harrington, from Chanhassen, Minnesota, is a 2019 graduate of Saint John’s University.

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Caring for the Land Augie Witkowski

fter graduating from the College of Saint Benedict in May 2019, I realized that this was going to be the first summer I would not spend in a chemistry laboratory or classroom in six years, and I couldn’t have been more excited! For once my summer vacation would live up to its name, because I would be a student land manager at Saint John’s Abbey Arboretum. I spent my days as a student land manager seeing the world on a grander scale than I am used to. In the chemistry lab I am always concerned with the molecular and atomic scale of the world, but this summer taught me much about the world on a broader, ecological scale. I had little to no knowledge of the prairie or woods that I would spend the whole summer working in. I knew none of the prairie forbs and grasses. But, by the end of the summer, I could identify dozens of them. Most significantly, my appreciation for nature deepened from a surfacelevel observation to actual knowledge of the environment around me. Summer typically is a break from school, but this year my summer represented a culmination of my time as a college undergraduate. It truly was an opportunity to practice the Benedictine values I had heard about repeatedly throughout my four years on

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Augie Witkowski and friend

campus: stewardship, community, stability, dignity of work, hospitality, and more. I was able to engage in the practice of stewardship every day. As I worked on oak regeneration projects—planting, matting, caging, watering, and caring for oaks—I received firsthand experience in what it means to care deeply for the land. It was exciting to see plots of oaks that were planted just a year ago and to think about what the oaks I planted this summer will look like next year and beyond. I had hands-on experience of how it feels to have an impact on the environment.

The value of community is heavily emphasized at our Benedictine schools, and this summer I experienced the campus community in a heightened way. The past few summers in the lab were collaborative, but not to the degree that I experienced here in the abbey arboretum. I spent hours and hours with three phenomenal student workers; the whole summer was a blast, thanks to them. We completed John Geissler many projects together. I cannot imagine doing this job without them, making every day productive and fun. My favorite (and simultaneously least favorite) project was repairing both the fixed and floating boardwalks in the wetlands. Over the past few years, I had run across these boardwalks quite a few times with the crosscountry team (following a route that we had so creatively named “boardwalk”!), but not once had I thought about the work that goes into maintaining these types of structures. My recognition of the dignity of work widened my perspective and helped me appre-

ciate and notice what happens behind the scenes, allowing people to enjoy outdoor spaces— all this, in addition to the variety of practical skills I learned, such as how to replace a foam float from beneath a boardwalk without falling into the water! The boardwalk project and simply being on the land every day pushed me outside my comfort zone. I have always enjoyed the outdoors, but going for a hike in the morning is a bit different from buzz-sawing a hill in the heat of the day with

deer flies all around me. I can handle being uncomfortable much more comfortably now, and the fact that I loved all the experiences I had this summer really shows the impact of the surrounding environment at Saint John’s. I would happily suffer a few more mosquito bites to see swan cygnets (babies) again, and I would readily pick off a few more ticks to have the opportunity to plant more oak trees. This summer outdoors, the first in a long time, will also be my

last spent outside of a lab for some years. Spending the summer with the Outdoor U program in the abbey arboretum was an invaluable experience as I prepare to begin my doctoral program in chemistry at the University of Oregon. The lab that I love is where I’ll be for the foreseeable future, but I leave here with a new and deeper love of the land that will forever ground me. Ms. Augie Witkowski is a 2019 graduate of the College of Saint Benedict.

Prep School Service Day On 25 October the students and staff of Saint John’s Preparatory School celebrated the Benedictine value of stewardship and joined forces with the abbey arboretum staff and volunteers to work on several land stewardship projects. The day included bud capping conifers to protect them from winter deer browse, pulling invasive buckthorn, collecting acorns for oak regeneration efforts, and collecting prairie seed for savanna restoration. Photo: Acorn collecting

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Winter 2019-20

Jefferson Lecture Columba Stewart, O.S.B.

he intellectual pathways we trace in our preservation efforts [at the Hill Museum & Manuscript Library (HMML)] reveal the original “internet of things,” the manuscripts that travelled in a merchant’s chest, in a monk’s pocket or pilgrim’s pouch across the known world. The ideas written in them were translated into new languages, challenged conventional assumptions, summoned forth creative replies. Their power was in their words, words usually read aloud, in the way of traditional reading. As they read, they heard another person’s voice, in real time, at the pace I am speaking to you now. It is often said that Jews, Christians, and Muslims are “People of the Book,” even if not the same book. In fact, we were and are people of many books, as are those who follow ancient philosophies or other great religious traditions. In those books are stories, reflections on stories, ideas spun from human observation and experience, attempts to trace how our This article is excerpted from the 2019 Jefferson Lecture, “Cultural Heritage Present and Future: A Benedictine Monk’s Long View,” delivered on 7 October at the Warner Theatre in Washington, D.C., and is reprinted with permission. To read the full text or to view the video of the presentation, see https://www.neh.gov/award/fathercolumba-stewart.

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universe exists and functions in space and time. These books changed the world because their words were heard. They were taken seriously, seriously enough at times to prompt rebuttal or controversy, admiration or adoption. But they were heard. We are at great risk of losing the capacity to listen, and therefore losing our ability to understand. The opening word of Saint Benedict’s Rule is, appropriately, obsculta, “listen.” The discipline of listening is now an Wikimedia Commons endangered art. Saint Augustine of Hippo reading Paul’s Letter to the Equally endangered Romans (Tolle, lege). Fresco by Benozzo Gozzoli, are the stores of wisdom contained in c.1464, San Gimignano, Italy. these communities on their own the manuscripts of the ground, even if they subsequently world, targeted by those fearful lost it. Our team at HMML has of difference or threatened by worked with them to ensure that imaginations broader than their their deposits of wisdom, their own. Those old books become libraries of handwritten texts, caught in the indiscriminate the voices of their past, can join destruction of war and left the global conversations of the behind by the displacement of digital era. And we do it side by their owners. The wisdom conside, as equals. tained in them is eroded by the forgetting that besets a diaspora What happens when we fail community severed from its to listen, or forget the wisdom roots, resettled in a strange of the ancestors? I have said place and often undergoing the that the opening word of the slow but inexorable loss of its monastic rule I follow is “listen”: language and distinctive ways. to the words of Scripture, to the It has been my privilege to meet

events around us, to the stirrings of our own heart. When we fail to listen, when we miss or misread the “signs of the times,” the result can be catastrophic. Peter the Venerable was abbot of Cluny at its zenith; six centuries later, the monastery and its great church were plundered, and its library burned. At one time Cluny had represented a great reform of Benedictine life. At its end, it represented everything the poor had come to hate about the concentration of wealth and power in the Church and the aristocracy. No institution, however venerable, is immune to the consequences of forgetting its ideals or ignoring the voices of its critics. We Catholics know this only too well. And yet, Benedictines are still here! As the motto of the bombed and rebuilt Montecassino Abbey proclaims, Succisa virescit: “Cut it back, and it flourishes!” Humbled by the Reformation, the French Revolution and its aftermath, we had to rethink what it means to be monks in the modern world. We are still working on that. What is true of my small part of the human community is also true of nations when they forget to listen, or simply give up trying. Our fragile planet has never been so threatened nor the human beings who inhabit it so divided. The terrain for rational discourse has shrunk to a narrow strip between camps defined and limited by their political views, religious beliefs, race or

We are at great risk of losing the capacity to listen, and therefore losing our ability to understand.

ethnic identity, beset by anxiety that easily becomes fear and then violence. In such times as these, we must dig deeply into our respective stores of wisdom and offer whatever we find for the sake of mutual understanding, the only possible basis for reconciliation and for the resolve to move forward for the common good. Frankly, we need all the help we can get. Of course, that wisdom is found not only in manuscripts, but also in the other records of our past. The power of words has illuminated our own nation’s darkest and most troubled times, from the Civil War through Jim Crow and the Civil Rights movement. Abraham Lincoln, Frederick Douglass, Martin Luther King Jr., the late Toni Morrison, my luminous predecessor at this podium: they called us to wrestle with our nation’s original sin of chattel slavery and its woeful legacy. In my own lifetime I have seen the death of Jim Crow, the unmasking of the myth that separate can be equal, the abolition of the poll tax in my native Texas, and the desegregation of the schools I attended. And yet we still tolerate so many, less obvious, versions of those odious practices. We are not done, not nearly.

Now we are facing a new temptation to ostracize and demean, this time because of the sincerely held religious beliefs of our Muslim sisters and brothers. This is not simply a divisive geopolitical issue, but an urgent local problem, even in my adopted state of Minnesota with its immigrant Somali and other Muslim communities. As medieval Christian scholars of Arabic manuscripts came to understand, their enemy was not Islam, however deep their theological differences. The common enemy was—and remains—the fanaticism and ignorance that make understanding impossible. My roots in an ancient monastic tradition give me a certain perspective, and dare I say, a confidence and hope when considering the work that lies before us. I recall the story told long ago by a young African man, confused and emotionally tormented, who heard the voice of a child chanting, Tolle, lege. Tolle, lege. “Pick it up and read it. Pick it up and read it.” He picked up the book at his side, and he read it, as if for the first time. His name was Augustine, and in time he would become the finest writer of Western Christianity. But first he had to pick up the book—of course it was a manuscript—and read. May we do the same. Father Columba Stewart, O.S.B., is the director of the Hill Museum & Manuscript Library.

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Holiness in the Ordinary Martin F. Connell

nce Christianity became the Roman Empire’s state religion in the fourth century, models of sanctity other than martyrdom were needed—models of holiness revealed not only in suffering and death, but in the holiness of ordinary, daily life. Among the earliest chronicles of nonmartyred saints is the Life of Saint Martin (Vita S. Martini), the first draft of which was written while Martin was still alive. The actual life of Saint Martin of Tours—as a Roman soldier; a catechumen aspiring toward baptism; a monk; and then as bishop of Tours, France—was filled with countless moments when his dedication to the faith was recognized by people in and outside the Church. From those countless moments, Martin’s biographer, Sulpicius Severus (c. 363–420), selected what would most inspire faith after Martin’s death in 397. A final winnowing of Martin’s life was presented by artists in the Middle Ages who chose a handful of events that would inspire all—educated and erudite, uneducated and illiterate—toward holiness. And so went the process, from countless actual events in Martin’s life to selected written events to a handful of painted images. A striking treasure at Saint John’s that displays the winnowing of Saint Martin’s life,

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Spanish altar-frontal of the life of Saint Martin of Tours Alan Reed, O.S.B.

a painted altar-frontal from medieval Spain, goes mostly unnoticed. Even though it might be eight or nine hundred years old, those who pass the wooden frontal usually don’t even know it’s there, so inconspicuous is the artwork at the entrance to the School of Theology in Luke Hall. The work is a treasure not only

for its age but also for the beauty of its design and colors. The central panel captures a majestic Christ, his raised right hand larger than his almandine face, with its Grateful-Dead stare, tiny ears, skinny nose, and cool goatee. Surrounding Christ are four scenes of the life of Martin. The upper two quadrants of the

altar-frontal capture the signature moment of Martin’s life, the one medieval believers would instantly recognize as Martin. There Martin, not yet baptized, is a Roman soldier passing the gate at the entrance to the French city of Amiens. Sulpicius reports that on “a winter day much colder than usual, so cold

that many died from the icy conditions,” Martin cut his cloak in two and gave half to a beggar on the road. On the Saint John’s altar-frontal, Martin is on his horse (painted in red and white circles like a Target ad), drawing his sword to cut his cloak. Close examination reveals the hollow ribcage of the beggar, confirming how hungry the poor guy was. At the bottom of the upper right quadrant, Martin is depicted with his monk’s tonsure, hands raised, looking up at two angels —who are barefoot with wild green-and-red wings over their heads. At the top is the beggar/ Christ, bare-chested and about to be clothed. His halo matches the halo of Christ in the center of the artwork. Sulpicius’ Life narrates that the night after Martin performed this holy deed, he was asleep and “saw Christ clothed in the cloak he gave to the beggar,” recalling Jesus’ words in the Gospel of Matthew, “Whatever you did for one of these least ones, you did for me” (25:40). The left and right panels of the Saint John’s artwork capture that identity of the beggar and Christ, both being clothed in Martin’s signature moment. Magnificent, sentimental, or overly pious scenes from the lives of saints can actually distance them from the ordinariness of our day-to-day life. Martin’s altruism in antiquity, on the other hand, inspires us. It also

confirms that the communion of saints includes more than the heroic dead and those whose lives are the result of Vatican causes for beatification and canonization. Trusting God’s love and generosity toward us all, we enter the communion of saints by baptism—and, by the sacrament, daily realize Christ’s life on the ground, even in lessthan-magnificent deeds. God’s love in the suffering and rising Christ is revealed as well in the ordinary pains and joys of our daily lives: when we suspend e-communications and, instead, honor friends, family, and loved ones face to face; when we visit or bring communion to the aged or infirm; when, exhausted, we change the next dirty diaper, prepare the next meal, or schlepp kids to the next school activity; when we cope with the prodigal adult child addicted to drugs or engaged in a harmful relationship; or when we pray and remain in faithful service to the Body of Christ—in the face of our own hunger, despair, or feeling of abandonment. Even without a feast day like Saint Martin’s November 11, and without a medieval altarfrontal, baptism brings Christians into Martin’s communion of holiness. Saint Martin of Tours, pray for us. Dr. Martin F. Connell is professor of theology at Saint John’s University.

Winter 2019-20

Rule of Benedict

Beuronese Art

Shaped by the Seasons

Nathanael Hauser, O.S.B.

he most striking visual element of the Great Hall, the first church of Saint John’s Abbey, is the large mural of the Pantocrator, Christ the King, in the apse of the former church. It was painted by Brother Clement Frischauf, O.S.B. (1869–1944), in a style known as Beuronese Art, originating from the Archabbey of Beuron

Eric Hollas, O.S.B.

very time winter settles in I muse on what life in the monastery would be like if we followed Saint Benedict’s Rule literally. Summer at Saint John’s would be a delight. Winter, however, would be another story. For most of winter, dark and cold would be the order of the day.

In chapter 41 of his Rule we get some inkling of how Benedict allows the seasons to dictate the daily round of life. Here he legislates the time for eating during Lent, and it rings strange to modern ears. “Let Vespers be celebrated early enough so that there is no need for a lamp while eating, and that everything can be finished by daylight” (RB 41.8). Would we really want to finish supper before 5:00 P.M.? Of course, Benedict did not mean “everything.” The night office, for example, still took place at night, even in winter. But since monks generally recited those psalms from memory, they needed only a cue from the reader, who was the only person who needed a candle or lamp. Obviously, Benedict made no provision for a brilliantly-lit church. As a medieval historian I appreciate how different life was for Benedict and his monks. There was little illumination at night, though he did allow for one lamp

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(Archabbey of Saint Martin) in Germany. With the many revolutions in nineteenth-century Europe, artists were searching for ways to revitalize their art. Among these were Peter Lenz (1832– 1928) and Jacob Wüger (1829– 1892), two of the three founders of the Beuron School. Mr. Lenz, a theoretician at heart, sought to adapt sacred art to the geometric

principles he saw in Egyptian art. These works had become known in Europe because of Napoleon’s conquest of Egypt—and the style was immensely popular. Mr. Lenz’s theories sought to use this ancient geometry to transcend the nineteenth-century’s craving for the new and novel so that he could create a universal, timeless art in service of the liturgy. His friend, Jacob Wüger, was sympathetic to this theory but

Aidan Putnam

in the dormitory (RB 22.4). I also presume that lamps lit steps and sharp edges to avoid accidents or injuries. Despite that, nights were dark in medieval monasteries, and moonlight offered the only relief from the inky blackness. If Benedict is sparing in his use of artificial light, he’s almost silent in reference to the cold. He comments on the oppressive heat of summer, which should come as no surprise from a resident of Italy. But about the cold of winter and the occasional need for snow removal, he is reticent. Later, medieval monasteries of northern Europe indulged in one heated room— the calefactory (sitting room). All the other rooms ranged from stifling to bone-chilling, depending on the season.

their electric lighting and central heat? At the very least he’d be puzzled by the rhythm of our lives. For one, artificial light pierces every corner, and the days are as long as we choose to leave the lights on. Meanwhile, central heat allows for the possibility that a blizzard might rage outside while we might be too warm within. While nature dictated the terms of life for monks and nuns in the Middle Ages, modern followers of Benedict live in perennial greenhouses. As a consequence, the horarium never varies, and nature no longer is the decisive factor that it was in Benedict’s day. Father Eric Hollas, O.S.B., is deputy to the president for advancement at Saint John’s University.

What might Benedict think of modern monks and nuns with

Detail of a Beuronese ceiling

Arca Artium

never took it to the logical limits that Mr. Lenz developed. However, they worked together and in 1868 received their first big commission: a small outdoor chapel at the new Benedictine Abbey of Beuron. The commission came from the third founder of the movement, Abbot Maurus Wolter, O.S.B. (1825– 1890). Soon after, Jacob Wüger, taking the name Gabriel, joined the new abbey while Mr. Lenz lived in the monastery as a layman. This change in their relationship proved to be significant. Brother Gabriel Wüger began to distance himself from the strict Egyptian geometrical rules that Mr. Lenz supported, looking instead for inspiration from medieval art and icons. This caused a controversy that spread through the whole monastic community until, finally, Abbot Maurus decided in favor of Brother Gabriel, who became the effective artistic master of the Beuron School. But Peter Lenz’s voice was not lost. He too became a Benedictine, taking the name Desiderius. Thereafter, the Lenz and Wüger artistic theories continued to act in tension in the work that the Beuron School produced. While the roots of the Beueronese style can be traced to the early nineteenth century and the desire to reinvigorate Christian sacred art, it came into public notice only in 1905 with the publication of L’esthétique de

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Beuron, a French translation of

Desiderius Lenz’s theoretical work, and in the same year, at the Vienna Secessionist Exhibition. Both these events placed the Art of Beuron in the circle of the European avant-garde, influencing even secular artists such as Gustav Klimt. Commissions for Beuronese art came from other Benedictine houses, both new foundations and those renewing their lives after the upheavals of the Napoleonic Wars. In the late 1870s Brothers Desiderius Lenz and Gabriel Wüger worked at Montecassino Abbey in Italy, preparing for the great Jubilee Year, 1880. Undoubtedly Desiderius’ most famous work is his design for the Jubilee Medal produced by Montecassino and still venerated throughout the world.

dictine monastery in Austria founded by Beuron. In 1899 Brother Clement joined Desiderius Lenz in painting the new monastery and church of Saint Gabriel in Prague. A year later Brother Clement was invited to join the team of artists who were restoring the crypt containing the remains of Saint Benedict and Saint Scholastica at Montecassino. This was the most prestigious commission that Desiderius Lenz had received, being blessed by the pope himself. He was, therefore, able to gather around him the best artists of the Beuronese School. Brother Clement worked there for fourteen years, becoming the team’s foremost mosaicist, covering the arches and ceilings of the crypt.

Finishing this commission in 1914, Brother Clement traveled to the abbey at Cava de’ Tirreni One of some fifty monks and near Salerno. Founded in the oblates who studied art at twelfth century, this monastery Beuron was Clement Frischauf had been suppressed in 1866 but who, in 1892 at the age of 23, was not destroyed, becoming a joined Seckau Abbey—a BeneNational Monument. The following year Brother Clement, joining a group of artist-monks, sailed to Brazil. Working under the leadership of the painter/sculptor Father Adalbert Gresnicht, O.S.B. (who was also part of the Montecassino team), these monks worked until 1922 on the decoration of the abbey church of Saint Paul in Baldwin Dworschak, São Paulo. Brother Clement Frischauf, c. 1936 O.S.B.

America. The lowest register of stylized cherubim and palm trees are in the true Lenz “Egyptian” manner, while the middle register with its procession of sheep recalls early Christian art in the style of Wüger— similar to the apse mosaic of the sixth-century Basilica of Sant’Apollinare near Ravenna, Italy. The image of Christ in the upper register, however, reveals Brother Clement’s own genius. The inspiration for Christ Pantocrator is found in both Eastern and Western churches, but Brother Clement’s response to the Alan Reed, traditional form makes it a Detail of Brother Clement’s Beuronese masterpiece, the apse of the Great Hall deeply personal work. The face In December 1922 Father in 1932. The main frieze porconforms to convention, but it Adalbert was commissioned to trays different forms of monasis alive with a gaze of ardent work on the Church of Saint tic life: adoration, preaching, concern for those looking up at Anselm in the Bronx, New York, teaching, the arts and crafts, the divine image. The clothes are founded by Saint John’s Abbey. and farmwork. The models he vibrant with enamel-like colors, There, along with Brother chose were well known among reminding one of mosaics Clement and Brother Luke Benedictines, having been pub(Clement’s main work at MonteReicht, O.S.B., he began a fivelished in a German edition of the cassino), but the artist has year project designing the high Rule of Saint Benedict—similar modeled them with a softness altar and liturgical vessels as images were chosen by the artists that recalls the work of the conwell as painting murals. In 1931 of Conception Abbey (Missouri) temporary American Depression Brother Clement was invited to for their refectory. This common paintings. In this outstanding Collegeville where, until his artistic language among Benedicpiece Brother Clement reinvents death in 1944, he continued to tine houses throughout Europe, the stylized art of Beuron by paint and to teach Beuronese art. the Americas, and Asia is one of infusing it with tenderness and The arrival of Brother Clement the great accomplishments of the by responding to its new setting at Saint John’s gave the abbey a Beuronese style. in the heart of North America. master artist with a direct line to one of the founders of the Brother Clement’s masterpiece is movement, Desiderius Lenz. the apse paintings of the Great Father Nathanael Hauser, O.S.B., Hall. Dedicated in 1934, the received a doctorate in classical and medieval art and archaeology Brother Clement began painting images are among the finest from the University of Minnesota. the Saint John’s Abbey refectory examples of Beuronese art in O.S.B

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Brother Clement reinvents the stylized art of Beuron by infusing it with tenderness.

Photos, clockwise from top left: Cartoon stencil of a fish; Nativity painting; vegetation study; angel acolyte Photos: Abbey archives study; Good Friday mural; angel acolyte study.

Minnesota 13 Aaron Raverty, O.S.B.

he setting: rural German and Polish immigrant farmers in central Minnesota during the early years of the twentieth century. The activity: moonshining. The product: Minnesota 13. The obstacle: Prohibition. These are the dots connecting the drama that unfolded in this engaging story of booze and bootlegging in Stearns County, Minnesota, from 1920–1933. During the Prohibition years, Stearns was considered the “wettest” of the central Minnesota counties, if not the entire state. Among the towns named in the moonshining operation were Albany, Avon, Cold Spring, Melrose, Opole, Richmond, Roscoe, Saint Cloud, and Saint Wendel, with Holdingford considered by many to be the capital city of moonshine. In fact, most central Minnesota farmers were likely distilling spirits in these years. By far the spirit of choice was Minnesota 13, a potent whiskey concoction named for

Abbeys and alcoholic beverages, especially beer and wine, have long-standing ties; monastic brewhouses have existed for centuries. Numerous postprandial cordials originated as medicinal tinctures derived from cloister gardens. Bénédictine, an herbal liqueur produced in France, supposedly was made from a recipe developed by monks in Normandy. Another French liqueur, Chartreuse, was named after the Grande Chartreuse monastery near Grenoble. In an unpublished 1997 manuscript, “Minnesota 13: Moonshine, Feds, and Stearns County’s German Catholics,” author Chris Schearer lays out the monastery’s attitude amid this local drama: “Traditional German attitudes appeared to be alive at St. John’s Abbey during Prohibition. The German-speaking monks there thought that Prohibition was ‘nonsense’” (7). Father George Zurcher, president of the Catholic Clergy Prohibition League

Minnesota 13 Testimonial I’m reminded of an occasion with a basketball game between Foley and Holdingford. Some of the Foley fans were asking about where they could get the best moonshine. [They were told] they could get it in any place, any house except that white house on the hill. That was where I was living. During my time in Holdingford and after, I sort of sympathized with those people on account of the hard times they had. Wheat: $.40 a bushel. And oats, $.10 a bushel! That was a shame! Reverend Francis Bialka of Little Falls, Minnesota Interviewed 19 January 1978 by the Stearns History Museum

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Franciscans, were allowed everywhere to sell the wine of their own vineyards, or the beer of their own distilleries” (15).

the seed corn used in its manufacture.

Gluek Brewing Company

Logo of Minnesota 13 beer brewed in Cold Spring by Gluek Brewing Company

USA, coined the derogatory

phrase “beer monks,” despite Pope Pius IX’s sympathetic agreement with future Abbot Boniface Wimmer that monks without beer was no cause for cheer. In his centenary history of Saint John’s, Worship and Work, Father Colman Barry quotes a conversation between Abbot Boniface and Bishop Mathias Loras of Dubuque, justifying the abbot’s attempt to establish a brewery: “We are now ten years in this country; all of us have been used to drinking beer; here we have it not; it is too high in price to buy it . . . but it is cheap, if we would distill it ourselves. Being obliged to drink fresh water and nothing else is a thing which no religious orders . . . are obliged to do. All religious orders, except Capuchins and

Indeed, the German drinking culture and heritage were alive and well in central Minnesota, and beer was as common and plentiful as soft drinks at local celebrations and gatherings. Mr. Schearer points out that “Anecdotal evidence . . . suggested that the culture in Stearns held moderate drinking to be a virtue” (6). Drunkenness, however, was over the top. The enjoyment of drinking was not in itself sinful and was even condoned by the local Catholic Church. In her 2007 book Minnesota 13: Stearns County’s “Wet” Wild Prohibition Days, Elaine Davis relates a joke of questionable veracity: “An assistant priest came to Father Luke at St. Mary’s Cathedral in St. Cloud in a quandary. A penitent had confessed that he was making moonshine. The young priest asked, ‘What should I give him?’ Father Luke replied, ‘If it’s good stuff, give him $10’” (27). The “nonsense” of Prohibition hit closer to home in another way: continued access to sacramental wine for the celebration of the Eucharist. But the intrigue involving federal agents, local officials, and rural Stearns County residents just intensified during the 1920s. The evidence that Saint John’s monks were involved in moon-

Brother Justus Trettel, abbey blacksmith

shining and bootlegging operations is equivocal. Some claim that a still was in operation in one of the buildings on the Saint John’s campus during the Prohibition years. But several confreres consider it unlikely that then-Abbot Alcuin Deutsch would have permitted this. However, clerics apparently lent their Roman collars to locals for disguise in aiding them to avoid capture, while others even bailed out those arrested and jailed. Some priests hid parishioner donations from moonshine operations behind the altar in church where federal agents rarely looked. The late Father Godfrey Diekmann, O.S.B., claimed that Benedictine Brother Justus

Trettel built whiskey stills for neighboring farmers during Prohibition, and that these stills contributed to the outstanding quality of Minnesota 13. Brother Justus’ assistance was a compassionate gesture to help the farmers cope with the locally depressed economy. Other monks may also have lent their expert assistance. But given German brewing Abbey archives history and a plentiful supply of soft spring water, many local farmers already possessed the moonshining skills to distill a potent potable. Elaine Davis claimed that “making illegal liquor did not collapse the moral order; very few of the Stearns producers drank much of the alcohol they made, and there was little drunkenness” (126). Poverty and large families only exacerbated the scourge of farm depression overtaking the region in the 1920s. Production and sales of moonshine helped their bottom line. And the physical geography of the isolated countryside, in addition to the heavily wooded locale, made it easier to hide the incriminating

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THE SEASONS evidence. According to Ms. Davis, concealment was further fostered by blind pigs: “storefronts such as a drug store, barber, or grocery store that covered for the real operation in the back. Most towns in Stearns County had at least one blind pig” (68). Federal agents were at odds with homegrown brewers, and the hostility generated was palpable and pervasive. One source of consternation was the tip-off system the farmers used to frustrate federal enforcement. Local distillers even used codes to disguise their efforts to warn neighbors of an impending raid. The German phrase riecht nach Lumpen, “smells like rags,” was one example. No doubt a sympathetic network of “wet” friends helped many a moonshiner evade capture. While these initiatives united the moonshiners (a “conspiracy of silence”), they separated them

in other ways. The sanctions wrought against those who snitched on their neighbors could be severe, and jealousies and suspicions were also bestirred. Ms. Davis describes how even organized crime got involved: “Seeking new sources of the high-quality Minnesota 13 liquor, hired thugs of [Al] Capone and other syndicates visited St. Cloud in expensive cars, prowling the back rural roads of Stearns County” (89). County bootleggers usually plied their trade by night without the aid of car headlights. The ploys used to evade detection of their precious stash were creative and varied. According to Ms. Davis, “They hid moon under car hoods, loads of hay, potatoes or fruit, used egg cases with false bottoms, selling ‘eggs’ from farms that had no chickens, and under hay during ‘hayrides.’ . . . Locals knew that classified ads during Prohibition or later

on KASM radio for ‘homegrown rutabagas’ or ‘goose feather pillows ready for pickup,’ were code words for moonshine for sale” (60). Is anyone seeking to revive the Minnesota 13 legacy? Saint John’s University alumnus Phil Steger, founder of Brother Justus Whiskey Company, Minneapolis, asserts that his company aims “to emulate the example of Minnesota’s moonshining farmers” in the production of its single malt whiskey. Another claimant of a Minnesota 13 revival, Ace Spirits in Hopkins, Minnesota, hopes “to resurrect this unique spirit and bring back its international status as a quality moonshine.” Cheers! 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).

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Christ walked the waters. Today, wonderingly, I walked Winter’s first thin ice. Program change: WINTER. Nature switches from color To plain black and white. The sun-glared snow-scape, Flint-sharp, is shadow-pocked by Deep pools of cool blue. The cottontail tracks Stop at the sharp etching of Fanned hawk wings on snow. Twenty-five below! But the cardinal’s flame-flash Burns hot holes in snow. Above, sapphire sky; Below, snow sparkling diamond.— Mere gems are tawdry. WINTER–SPRING

Nothing ever blooms— Or bears fruit—quite like the ads In seed catalogues.

Alexius Hoffmann, O.S.B. “Natural History of Collegeville, Minnesota” 1934

WINTER

After Winter’s Lent, Flowers and Easter hats burst Into sudden bloom.

Speaking of water, reminds me of drinks. Some of our enemies, even priests in the diocese of St. Paul, said that we used to have a brewery. We never did, and we never owned one elsewhere wholly or in part. We never brewed beer and never made wine.

The monks of Saint John’s Abbey may not have brewed beer nor made wine in the early years of the community, but they did make wine (the infamous Abbey Gas) beginning sometime in the late 1930s, ceasing production in 1982.

Conrad Diekmann, O.S.B.

Brother Stephen Thell bottling Abbey Gas, c. 1980

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SPRING [The new crop of Novices] Ducklings ugly? Well, Perhaps—and awkward and foolish; But quite lovable! Baseball training camps, Like crocuses and robins, Spell coming of Spring. SUMMER For blood transfusions, My A-Pos. blood rates high with Female mosquitoes. [Vespers Song] Vesper sparrows pipe Eine kleine Nachtmusik Before drowsing off. [Meditation Topic] Bats are quite harmless— Except for those established In your own belfry. FALL What ancient wisdoms Do the geese, sotto voce, Gaggle all day long. (Natter all . . .) The telephone wires Are clotted and black-beaded By south-bound swallows.

Father Conrad Diekmann, O.S.B. (1904–1974), was a monk of Saint John’s Abbey 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 a scholar and sports enthusiast, witty and perceptive. A writer of verse, especially Haiku, his poems appeared in various magazines including America, The Catholic World, and Sports Illustrated.

The woods are on fire! Don’t panic. Sumac flames red. Stop and admire.

FALL–WINTER

Late Fall, like Rembrandt, Paints in sated reds, rich browns, And somber umber. BEASTS No “See you later” For those clamped in the jaws of An alligator. God asked the camel: “One lump or two?”—Silly beast; It couldn’t decide. The jackass will bray All the louder, knowing he’s Got nothing to say. Moose heads are mostly Above bar bottles: glass eyes Eyeing glassy-eyeds. The porcupine’s gruff “Quit shoving!” is not request But pointed demand. Pythons eat seldom, Fasting strictly for whole months; But then go whole hog. The sloth—the slow-poke— Though first in line at the Ark, Got caught in the rain. At the water-hole, The Wart Hog smiled, gratified At his reflection. “How’s this for a fit?” Spouted the whale, trying on The ocean for size.

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Lives of the Benedictine Saints Blessed Columba Marmion Richard Oliver, O.S.B.

orn in Dublin, 1 April 1858, Dom Columba Marmion, O.S.B., was educated in Belvedere and Clonliffe colleges. While enrolled in the Irish College, Rome, the rector ordained him a priest at the age of 23. Appointed curate in Dundrum (Dublin), Dom Columba went from there to teach philosophy for four years in Clonliffe College. He also served as chaplain to the women’s prison in Mountjoy. The Archbishop of Dublin gave Columba, 27, permission to join the German Beuronese Benedictines at Maredsous, Belgium. The transition was challenging, as he was a respected priest and professor, but was now starting over as a novice with younger men, aged 16 to 20. He eventually found his place within the newly founded community (1872) through the congenial work of teaching Thomistic philosophy to the junior monks. He also gradually built up a reputation as a spiritual guide through the occasional exercise of pastoral ministry. In 1899 Dom Columba was sent as one of the founding monks from Maredsous to the monastery of Mont-César (Keizersberg) in Louvain. He remained in Louvain for ten years, serving as

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prior, prefect of clerics, and professor of dogmatic theology. He also became confessor to the future Cardinal Primate of Belgium, Désiré-Joseph Mercier, to whom he had preached a retreat. “This decade in Louvain provided a wide outlet for his matured spiritual doctrine, through his lectures on dogmatic theology, his retreats to priests and religious, and his wide private correspondence” (Placid Murray, O.S.B., Saints of the Day, 3 Oct 2012). In 1893 Pope Leo XIII appointed Hildebrand de Hemptinne, O.S.B., second abbot of Maredsous, as the first abbot primate of the Benedictine ConfedWikipedia eration. At the request of Dom Columba Marmion, c. 1888 the pope, Dom Hildebrand When war broke out in 1914, continued as abbot of Abbot Columba, fearing that his Maredsous, but he relinquished that office in 1909. In that novices might be called up, sent them to Edermine, County year, sixty-nine choir monks Wexford, Ireland. Unlike the elected Dom Columba as their military situation in World War II, third abbot. (The lay brothers, fifty-five in 1909, could not vote Belgium was able to retain its until 1968.) At the age of 51, sovereignty over a small coastal strip of its own territory. This Abbot Columba was at the height of his powers. Maredsous enabled Dom Columba to travel, disguised as a cattle dealer, Abbey maintained a humanities college, a trade school, and a through the war zone from farm. The abbot sustained the Belgium to Ireland, without abbey’s well-established reputapassport or papers. tion for research, and he continued editing various publicaThe anti-German sentiment in tions, including the Revue Belgium after World War I made Bénédictine. it impossible for Maredsous and

the other Belgian monasteries to remain in the German Beuronese Congregation. After the monastic chapter in Maredsous voted in favor of separation from Beuron, Pope Benedict XV erected the Belgian Benedictine Congregation (February 1920). Abbot Columba Marmion was one of the most influential spiritual writers of the early twentieth century. His trilogy, Christ, The Life of the Soul (1917); Christ in His Mysteries (1919) that provided a theological foundation for the embryonic Liturgical Movement; and Christ, The Ideal of the Monk (1922), has been translated into thirteen languages. The books appeared in rapid succession because they were compiled from notes taken during his weekly conferences. The final editing was done by Raymond Thibaut, O.S.B., and was in each case authenticated by Dom Columba, who even remarked about the text of Christ, The Ideal of the Monk: “C’est bien moi.” [It’s me.] One of the central themes of Dom Columba’s writings is divine adoption: because God became human, we as humans become adopted children of God. This theme is found in the letters of Saint Paul and the Eastern fathers, but Dom Columba brought it to ordinary people. Grace, he said, is the life of Christ in the soul, which we get at baptism, and which we build on until we die.

Ten years after Columba’s death (30 January1923), Benedictine monks in Aurora, Illinois, named their school Marmion Academy. Devotees also attributed favors and miracles to him; justifying the transfer, in 1963, of his body from the monks’ cemetery to the abbatial church (his body was found to be incorrupt, after more than forty years). In 1966 a mother of seven, Mrs. Patricia Bitzen (1927–2014) of Saint Cloud, Minnesota, developed breast cancer. Doctors predicted that she had only three months to live. The family had come to know Father Arnold Weber, a monk of Saint John’s Abbey, who fostered the cause of Dom Columba, so they asked their friends and fellow parishioners to call on him in heaven, to “Pray along with us to God, and ask God to have mercy on Patricia and to heal her body.” Mrs. Bitzen went to the Abbey of Maredsous in Belgium and prayed at the tomb of Dom Columba. She was totally healed! This miracle led Pope John Paul II to beatify Dom

Columba in 2000. Mrs. Bitzen’s brother, Father Thomas Wahl, O.S.B., reports that even today the family, when praying for a person in need, asks Blessed Columba to pray with them. Following his beatification, Blessed Columba’s cause for canonization has been very active. In 2009 the Archdiocese of Vancouver, Canada, began a canonical investigation into the cure of a man ravaged by a necrotizing fasciitis. The promoters of Blessed Columba’s cause, including Justin Cardinal Rigali, hope the new saint might be named “Doctor of Divine Adoption.” In 2016 two dissertations compared Dom Columba’s spiritual theology of divine filiation to both Thomas à Kempis and Saint Thérèse of Lisieux. Blessed Columba, pray with us. Brother Richard Oliver, O.S.B., president emeritus of the American Benedictine Academy, is the coordinator of abbey church tours.

Dom Columba’s insight “gives the ordinary Christian a great dignity and is an enormous encouragement in prayer. His teaching is that prayer was simply spending time with God. He stressed that holiness, contemplation, and prayer are open to anyone . . . . His theology of hope drew much from his time as chaplain at the women’s prison at Mountjoy: here he helped hardened criminals, people who had no hope, to see that even though they were condemned in the world of humans, they were not condemned by God.” Patrick Duffy, “Bl Columba Marmion: apostle of the divine adoption”

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Meet a Monk: John Chrysostom Long

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Timothy Backous, O.S.B.

t was not too long ago that “diversity” for Saint John’s students, employees, or monks referred to those who came from Benton County (“that’s across the river, doncha know!”). But times have changed. Now diverse faces are transforming not only central Minnesota but Saint John’s Abbey as well—offering exciting changes and introducing new dimensions to monastic life that just a few years ago we could hardly imagine. One such dimension comes to us in the person of Brother John Chrysostom Liting Long, O.S.B., whose path from China to Collegeville reads like an improbable novel. He is the only child of Jiahui Long (father) and Xiumei Zhang (mother), born on 23 February 1979 in Qinghai, People’s Republic of China.

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John Chrysostom’s journey to Christianity and monastic life is, in his words, “remarkably cosmopolitan.” While pursuing undergraduate studies in China, he took advantage of a library in the nearby Catholic cathedral. There he met and received instructions from the pastor and was baptized in 2002 at age 23. In 2005 he moved to the Philippines and spent a year assisting in a Manila parish while living with Chinese diocesan priests. Upon his return to China, he entered the National Seminary of the Catholic Church in China, Beijing, where he completed a year of philosophy. In the seminary, John Chrysostom was influenced by a visiting Saint Ottilien Benedictine monk from South Korea who introduced him to lectio divina (meditative

reading of Scripture), sparking his interest in monastic life. Along his vocational path from the People’s Republic of China to Trinity Benedictine Monastery in Fujimi, Japan, Brother John Chrysostom encountered Father (now Bishop) Anthony Yao Shun, a graduate of Saint John’s University School of Theology and Seminary—and John Chrysostom’s spiritual director while he studied at the Beijing seminary. Father Anthony encouraged him to contact the vocation director at Saint John’s, who in turn referred him to the Fujimi community. When he professed solemn vows as a Benedictine monk there in 2014, John Chrysostom reflected: “My life is taking turns that I would not have ever imagined as a

John Chrysostom and mother, Chinese New Year, c. 1986

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child. There are many surprises. I am learning a lot about myself and my expanding world, and about my faith that is still pretty new to me. I am discovering that what is important about monastic life is what I can learn in the community from my brothers and especially from common prayer and holy Mass. I miss my home country, and maybe someday I can go back to China. But that is a long way off. Now I just want to be a good monk! I chose the name John Chrysostom, the fourthcentury saint, to remind me to appreciate whatever life has to offer, try to make it better where I can, and always to be grateful.” If John Chrysostom thought his earlier life was “taking turns” that he would not have imagined, he was not prepared for the greatest turn—toward Collegeville and Saint John’s Abbey. As the community in Fujimi found it more and more difficult to grow and sustain itself, a conversation began among the members, eventually leading to the painful decision to close the monastery. The monks had further major decisions to make; most of them simply decided to return to Minnesota from where they had come. But for the non-Minnesotans (or non-Americans) the situation was much more difficult. John Chrysostom pursued the Collegeville option and moved to Saint John’s in 2016. Since his arrival, he has continued to discover what he initially found

John Chrysostom in Beijing

in Japan when he first visited the monastery as a vocation guest. “Monks are like everyone else,” he notes. Through a balance of work and prayer and dedication to the sacred liturgy, he has reinforced his love for his chosen way of life and remains grateful for his Benedictine vocation. Besides being a student, Brother John Chrysostom serves the university as a faculty resident, living on First Tommy with fifty undergraduates. He also helps in the vocation office, hosting prospective candidates and attending to “other duties as assigned.” He notes that both jobs bring him energy and joy. What attracted John Chrysostom to Benedictine life? His response to this question is particularly touching: “I have always believed that happiness is to be found within the depths of the heart. The goal of monastic life has always been to seek true

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happiness, marked by good deeds and contemplation. I can say, in the broadest terms, that to seek happiness in a personal love relationship with the Absolute is to be a monk at heart. Loving God ‘with all your heart and all your soul, with all your mind and all your strength’ (Mark 12:30) is the greatest possible fulfilment in life—and this is what it means to be a monk in spirit. Monasticism, a very ancient human phenomenon, brings me happiness. So, I will continue to follow Christ in this life, seeking always to be better and better.” Our community is lucky to have among us a man of such deep faith. We are grateful that Brother John Chrysostom’s improbable journey led him to the shores of Lake Sagatagan, and that his presence will continue to diversify our common search for God.

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Hilary Thimmesh

Musings of a Monk Tara Durheim

iturgical Press recently published Musings: A Bene- dictine on Christian Life by Father Don Talafous, O.S.B. The book features selections from his online blog Daily Reflections—a collection offering hope and encouragement in the face of the sadness and suffering of our world. We interviewed Father Don to get a sense of what inspires his writing and this work.

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How did the Daily Reflections blog start, and what keeps you writing it?

Writing for college students while I served as the Saint John’s University chaplain (in two eight-year stints) trained me somewhat in getting and keeping readers’ attention. Further, I wrote some longer reflections that were published by Liturgical Press in 1992 as A Word for the Day: Reflections. They received enough favorable comment to encourage me to write more, though I tried to write shorter ones not related to particular days of the year. What has been the spiritual impact of your blog?

Judging from the comments I receive (and I receive them daily), I presume that many readers depend upon them for inspiration or encouragement as they face a new day. Their approving comments spur me to do my best. What they write tells me that they cherish something uplifting—a stimulus to thinking.

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Paul-Vincent Niebauer, O.S.B.

Though many readers may be graduates of Saint John’s or Saint Benedict, we know that a substantial number are not associated with our schools and are from over twenty-five countries. (A reader in Portugal and one in France have translated the reflections for friends or other clientele.) How do you find spiritual/pastoral nourishment in your writing?

My reflections inspire me insofar as the positive comments from readers “raise the bar” and tell me that many people are expecting quite a bit from these short reflections! I should emphasize that short reflections are what keep readers reading and me writing. Length constraints require more time and effort than work without such limitations.

What is the source of your reflections?

I keep ideas for reflections on my computer and come back to them over the months. Often what I think is good matter for a reflection remains for quite a while difficult to formulate and “jell.” Even though I provide material for rumination, I try not to be abstruse or too remote from readers’ experience. My reflections are the product of my own thought and prayer, my observations of ordinary life, my reading and experience. Consequently, I avoid reading other blogs on Christian life in order to keep my writing free of such influences, true to my own bent. Ms. Tara Durheim is associate publisher for academic and monastic markets at Liturgical Press.

Musings: A Benedictine on Christian Life by Don Talafous, O.S.B. Pages, 224. Liturgical Press, 2019. To learn more or to order a copy, visit litpress.org.; or call 1.800.858.5450.

fter a marvelous life of ninety-one years, Father Hilary Thimmesh, O.S.B., died unexpectedly on 11 August 2019. Baptized Donald Merlin, he was the oldest of seven children born to Theodore Pierre and Frances Esther (Schmidtke) Thimmesh in Osakis, Minnesota, on 2 March 1928.

Chaucer, Shakespeare, and American Civil War history were his favorites, he fell in love with all kinds of literature. In addition to teaching in the prep school and university classrooms, Hilary educated generations of Johnnies in the dorms. He was a prefect in Benet Hall in the 1950s, a faculty resident in Bernard Hall in the 1970s, and for eighteen years, until his retirement in May 2019, a faculty resident for the freshmen of Tommy Hall. His confreres and colleagues anticipated his annual announcement that he had the best group of students ever.

Following graduation from Osakis High School in 1945, Hilary enrolled at Saint John’s University. Two years later he began his novitiate, professing first vows as a Benedictine monk on 11 July 1948. After completing his bachelor’s degree in philosophy in 1950, he embarked on priesthood studies at Saint John’s Seminary, leading to his ordination in 1954. He pursued graduate studies in English at Cornell University, earning both a master’s degree (1956) and doctorate (1963).

Father Hilary was a seasoned administrator of both the monastic and academic communities. He served as the abbey’s director of oblates and prior, and as the apostolic administrator of Saint Martin’s Abbey, Lacey, Washington. His university responsibilities included chair of the English department, academic dean, and director of the Benedictine Institute. Hilary’s extensive background as a teacher and administrator prepared him for the role of president of Saint John’s University, 1982–1991. He oversaw the renovation of the Auditorium and Simons Hall; the construction of Virgil Michel House and Saint John’s Art Center; and he played an active role in the creation of Saint John’s Master Plan of 1986.

A consummate educator, Father Hilary believed that “a monk is a man with a book.” While

The last living member of the planning committee for the construction of the abbey and

university church, Hilary detailed the machinations of that remarkable undertaking in Marcel Breuer and a Committee of Twelve Plan a Church: A Monastic Memoir (2011). He was also the general editor and contributor to Saint John’s sesquicentennial history: Saint John’s at 150. Growing up on a farm, Hilary developed a love for nature. “I learned the seasons well, and I gained a great love of the out-ofdoors,” he said, “particularly in the autumn when the harvest of corn and vegetables took the whole family into the fields and the garden.” He would exercise that same love for nature throughout his monastic life, exploring the woods and wetlands of the abbey arboretum and gardening until he was well into his 80s. Hilary read widely and wrote well. He delighted in happy hour with colleagues and confreres. He was inquisitive, creative, scholarly; and occasionally, moody. A good storyteller, he invented many ghost stories. Following the Mass of Christian Burial, Father Hilary was interred in the abbey cemetery on 16 August. Father Hilary: A Benedictine monk with a book; an unassuming leader with purpose; a conscientious mentor with gentility; an inspiring teacher with compassion; a life with words; a life with meaning. Isn’t that marvelous!

Provost Richard Ice

Winter 2019-20

Cloister Light 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. Father Emeric writes from Concordia College, Moorhead, Minnesota, 1969: I was invited to preach the Reformation Day sermon on October 31 and chided the Concordians for their lack of ecumenical spirit in beating Saint John’s football team this fall, also for their failure to have a statue of Martin Luther on the campus anywhere. There were some priests present, so I told them to take up a collection in their parishes.

Abbey Chronicle Theology 101 From grade school to grad school, Benedictines have been teachers of the Catechism, Church history, Bible studies, moral theology, and more. They have also learned that their carefully prepared lessons are subject to a variety of interpretations by their students. In the first book of the Bible, Guinness, Adam and Eve were created from an apple. Noah’s wife was Joan of Ark. Lot’s wife was a pillar of salt by day and a ball of fire by night. Moses went to the top of Mount Cyanide to get the Ten Commandments. David was a Hebrew king skilled at playing the liar. King David’s son was King Salmon. King Solomon had 700 wives and 300 porcupines. Pontius was the pilot on the flight into Egypt. Pilate had Jesus scrooged. The people who followed Jesus were called the twelve decibels. One of the opossums was Saint Peter. A reading from the Letter of Saint Paul to Minneapolis.

Following the appointment of a new superior in the monastery, this note was posted: For Sale 4000 sheets of stationery with Brother Wilfred, Subprior printed on them. Gloss: I will take 100. Brother William Father Conan writes that he just completed a tour of duty [as military chaplain] so far north that he had to look south to see the northern lights. He was circuit rider to the radar sites on the Bering Sea. It is so cold up there, he says, that he is convinced that even God moves out during the winter.

Lutherans believe in the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; but Catholics believe in the Trinity. Pagan kings had many wives. This is called polygamy. Christians have only one wife. This is called monotony.

From the Oral Tradition This monastery has deprived our society of some very good gasstation attendants.

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Father Aelred

Father Alfred

Father Martin

Seventy years is our span. Or eighty for those who are strong. But after 80, it’s good-bye, baby!

Cold days. Long nights. We long for the bright dawning Son. O come, O come, Emmanuel! August 2019 • In mid-August Saint John’s water system was found to be contaminated with E. coli. Though the source of the contamination was not definitively identified, turkey vultures—that perch by the dozen on the cellular antennae atop the Collegeville water tower—are the prime

Robin Pierzina, O.S.B.

suspects. To discourage them from roosting on the tower, a skydancer [above] (waving, armflailing, inflatable balloon) was installed—the most benign, least expensive, and certainly the silliest way of protecting the community’s water supply. So far, it’s working. • The community rejoiced at the news that Father Anthony Yao Shun, an alumnus of Saint John’s University School of Theology, was ordained a bishop on 26 August in Jining Diocese, Inner Mongolia—the first episcopal ordination in China since the

2018 agreement between the Holy See and People’s Republic of China. The second alumnus of the School of Theology to be consecrated a bishop, he had been approved by the Vatican in 2010. September 2019 • On 10 September Prior Bradley Jenniges and the monastic community blessed and dedicated the newly renovated space on the first floor of the abbey quad (formerly the campus clinic). Various monastery offices, including vocations, oblates, Benedictine Volunteer

Epiphany Reflection

I don’t want to railroad this through unless I have to.

Father Edgar

Monasteries: the last refuge of self-will.

ain, rain, and more rain! Like the spring, the summer and fall in Collegeville featured an abundance of wet weather. By summer’s end, Lake Sagatagan had flooded over most of the lakeside trails. The beginning of autumn was marked with more than four inches of rain—as well as lightning and crashing thunder. Another inch of rain made for a soggy Homecoming on 5 October, while 1.75 inches fell on 22 October. Unseasonably cold weather arrived in early November, resulting in enough ice on Lake Sagatagan to support hockey along the shore but not enough to deny geese open swimming on Thanksgiving.

Three Wise Women would have . . . Asked directions. Arrived on time. Helped deliver the baby. Cleaned the stable. Made a casserole. Brought practical gifts. And there would be peace on Earth!

The community welcomed Mr. Félix Mencias [left] who was invested as a novice on 11 September. A native of La Perla, Veracruz, Mexico, Novice Félix is now discerning a monastic vocation with the guidance of formation director Father John Meoska. Mr. David Allen, who previously completed the novitiate at Saint John’s Abbey, is beginning a year of probation as he explores his return to Benedictine life. Robin Pierzina, O.S.B.

Robin Pierzina, O.S.B.

Winter 2019-20

Corps, development, Latinx ministry, and abbey volunteers are now housed in the wing. The renovation was made possible by the generous support of abbey donors, in particular Barbara and Stephen Slaggie, in whose honor the new conference room and kitchen are named. October 2019 • Father Wilfred Theisen was inducted into the Saint John’s Athletics J-Club Hall of Honor and presented with a J-Club Distinguished Service Award on 5 October. Beginning in a

Tommy O’Laughlin

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previous millennium, Wilfred was a highly vocal fan of Johnnie athletics and an occasional critic of the officiating, mentoring coaches and athletes alike with the same wisdom he shared with popes and presidents. Though the J-Club had planned to bestow these honors on Wilfred posthumously, he was not cooperating, so they had to pay for his dinner at the awards ceremony. Go Johnnies! • On 18 October, prior to the fifteenth firing of the Johanna Kiln at the Saint John’s Pottery,

hundreds of guests joined Saint John’s University Artistin-Residence Mr. Richard Bresnahan for a prayer of blessing by Abbot John Klassen and a lighting ceremony. For ten days, sixty volunteers and staff stoked the fires round the clock. In the weeks prior to the firing, the kiln had been loaded with some fifteen thousand pieces of pottery and sculpture, including works by Mr. Bresnahan and his staff as well as by guest artists. • Father Nickolas Kleespie, abbey beekeeper, reports that it

Alan Reed, O.S.B.

A tractor trailer filled with three thousand organ pipes and the wind chests to hold them arrived at Saint John’s from Roy, Washington, on 16 September. Scores of monks and volunteers took part in a “photo op,” and a few of them even remained to help master organ builder Mr. Martin Pasi and his team unload the precious cargo. By day’s end, the nave of the abbey and university church looked like a lumberyard. For the next several weeks the pipes were moved from the nave and installed in the church’s organ loft. Meanwhile, project manager Mr. KC Marrin, was busy designing and constructing an expanded console of four keyboards.

was a “bad year for honey. The season started with a rogue flyaway queen and an aggressive bear attack.” Our hives never recovered. At season’s end, a paltry six gallons of honey were harvested. Brother Isidore Glyer had equally dismal news: “The walnuts were all tiny this year. I did not harvest at Saint John’s.” But the 2019 tonnage totals from the abbey gardens offered a brighter picture. More than 8,280 pounds of produce were harvested, including 4,105 lbs of various varieties of squash, 45 lbs of radishes, 37 lbs of beets, 40 lbs of rhubarb, 172 lbs of lettuce, 38 lbs of chili peppers, 231 lbs of cucumbers, 502 lbs of potatoes, 71 lbs of carrots, 107 lbs of onions, 47 lbs of pea pods, 116 lbs of green beans, 160 lbs of tomatillos, 63 lbs of asparagus, and 1,721 lbs of tomatoes that went directly from the garden to our table throughout the summer. November 2019 • Father Columba Stewart, the 2019 Jefferson Lecturer in the Humanities, was interviewed by PBS journalist Mr. Fred de Sam Lazaro at the History Center in Saint Paul on 6 November, discussing why cultural heritage matters globally and locally. Minnesota Governor Tim Walz and First Lady Gwen were among those attending the event. • Brother Lucián López addressed the topic of “Work and the Presence of God” during the Oblate Day of Reflection

Upgrades to the Stella Maris Chapel Trail in the abbey arboretum include a new shrine honoring Mary’s Annunciation. The stainedglass art was created by Mr. Dieterich Spahn, who also designed the windows of the Stella Maris Chapel. Abbey woodworkers fabricated the wooden housing. Photo: John Geissler on 17 November. Forty oblates gathered for Eucharist, prayer services, and the conference that explored how Saint Benedict encourages us to invite God into our work and daily tasks. During the retreat Mr. Kevin Keane from Sioux City, Iowa, made final oblation. Kevin writes, “I definitely love the Saint John’s environment, the monks of the abbey, the dedication to monastic life, all of it. Being an oblate would help me to advance my cause of being a better follower of Jesus.” In September, Mr. Dennis Hanson, from Duluth, made his final oblation. He reflected: “It is important for me to follow Benedict’s guidance. Saint John’s has always been a rich spiritual influence in my life. It was at Saint John’s as a youth that a strong spiritual thirst was instilled in me and has never ceased.”

• The Minnesota Chapter of the National Wrestling Hall of Fame honored Father Otto Weber (1934–1987) with a lifetime achievement award on 24 November. Known to generations of youngsters as the director of sports and leadership camps at Saint John’s, Father Otto served as the wrestling coach of Saint John’s Prep School for more than thirty years and was a collegiate wrestling champion. • Between 16 October and 31 December, Saint John’s is hosting its eighteenth controlled deer hunt since 1933 in order to reduce the deer population to a level that allows natural regeneration of the forest ecosystem. As of 25 November, fourteen deer have been taken.

Winter 2019-20

Fifty Years Ago Excerpted from Confrere, newsletter of Saint John’s Abbey: 21 September 1969

• Father Kilian McDonnell did research at Oral Roberts University, Tulsa, Oklahoma, for a book which he is in the process of writing. Oral Roberts University has one of the best Pentecostal collections in the world. • Approximately 1,550 students enrolled at Saint John’s University, and an additional 630 students enrolled at the College of Saint Benedict earlier this month. Dr. Sylvester P. Theisen has been entrusted with the responsibility to effect future coordination between the two Benedictine institutions or to combine administrative and academic functions by January 1971. After that date the two boards will consider, subject to the approval of the monastic chapter of Saint John’s, whether to create a single charter for Saint John’s and Saint Benedict as separate colleges with a single corporate identity. Meanwhile, to serve both colleges, a single head librarian, registrar, and director of public information have been appointed. • Brothers George Primus and David Manahan cycled to the north woods to gather mushrooms. Just after entering the woods, Brother George saw something white. He thought it must be a big puffball mushroom, but lo and behold, the big white thing moved. It was a

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nice big white rabbit! It is now in a cage outside the monastery, where the novices and others are giving it tender, loving care. 21 October 1969

• The new public address system from Northwest Sound of Minneapolis was installed above the church baldaquin to provide maximum speech intelligibility.

27 November 1969 • Chaplain Father Peregrin Berres writes from Fort Jackson, South Carolina: I married a Catholic nurse to a Jewish dentist last Friday night. I witnessed the marriage, and the rabbi blessed it all—but other chaplains thought I was ultraliberal for doing it. The senior priest is slowly “getting with” the Council—of Trent, that is! 27 January 1970

Abbey archives

L to r: Father Colman Barry, Jay Phillips, Rabbi Nahum Schulman

• Saint John’s University will be the first Christian college in the country to have a chair in Jewish studies, a contribution of Jay Phillips, Minneapolis philanthropist and president of the Phillips Foundation and chairman of Ed Phillips and Sons Company. Courses will be taught at both the graduate and undergraduate level by Dr. Nahum Schulman, first occupant of the chair. Mr. Phillips said, “This chair, located in a university with an outstanding record in the world of Catholic scholarship, and a deep-rooted tradition of academic freedom, will do much toward the building of bridges of good will and honest human relations.”

• Father Godfrey Diekmann was among an impressive array of scholars, liturgists, and pastorally oriented people who assisted in the preparation of the revised Lectionary and ordinary of the Mass that will be available for a Palm Sunday introduction. The bishops at Vatican II agreed “to undertake with great care a general restoration of the liturgy itself.” A Consilium for the Implementation of the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy was established. For five years it undertook to purify, to update, and to simplify the Roman Missal, the Divine Office, the Ritual, pontifical and church calendars. • C. Jack Eichhorst, a Lutheran layman who is chair of the department of religion at Lea College in Albert Lea, will become associate director of the Institute for Ecumenical and Cultural Research. He will replace Father Philip Kaufman, who has accepted a theological consultant position at Saint Benedict Center near Madison.

Sweet Perfection Ælred Senna, O.S.B.

ecently I received an email which opened with “HELP!!!” I should note that the person who sent it is a fellow editor, not given to the use of multiple exclamation points, so I knew it was something dire. It turns out she was frustrated with her attempts to make buttercream frosting and wanted to schedule a “frosting class.” By remarkable coincidence, I was making a batch of buttercream later that week, so the class was on! Buttercream frosting is simple to make, but there are a couple of things that need careful attention. The first is the butter itself. Good quality butter is needed, preferably one with a not-too-high water content. The butter also should be soft—you should be able to squeeze it and leave dents in the sides. But it should not seem oily, which means it is too soft. Assuming the butter is properly softened, the other challenge is getting the right texture. Will you be piping this frosting, or spreading it? For spreading, just a bit more liquid in the mixture is helpful; for piping, a slightly firmer frosting gives nice definition to the ornaments. This chocolate buttercream is my go-to for chocolate frosting. The coffee crystals are essential for truly sublime chocolate flavor.

Ælred Senna, O.S.B.

German chocolate cupcakes with chocolate buttercream; pumpkin cupcakes with maple buttercream

Chocolate Buttercream Frosting (for a 2-layer cake, or 20–24 cupcakes) • • • • • •

11/2 cups butter (3 sticks), softened 1 cup cocoa powder, sifted 5 cups confectioner’s sugar ½ cup milk 2 teaspoons vanilla extract 1 teaspoon instant coffee crystals

Combine butter and cocoa in the bowl of a stand mixer and beat with paddle attachment until well combined. Scrape sides of bowl and beat for another 15 seconds. Combine milk, vanilla, and coffee crystals in a measuring cup. Stir to dissolve coffee crystals. Add confectioner’s sugar and milk mixture in alternation, a little at a time, until all ingredients have been added. Scrape down sides. Beat at high speed about 30–60 seconds more. Test for desired consistency. For a slightly thinner frosting, add milk a teaspoon at a time; for firmer frosting, add more confectioner’s sugar a tablespoon or two at a time. Brother Ælred Senna, O.S.B., is associate editor of Give Us This Day and a faculty resident at Saint John’s University.

Winter 2019-20

In Memoriam

Searching for Hope

Please join the monastic community in prayerful remembrance of our deceased family members and friends:

Timothy Backous, O.S.B.

Cynthia “Cece” Bashore Loretta Beyer, O.S.F. Kathleen A. “Kathy” Braaten Aaron Broughton Joan Cipala Abbot Brian Clarke, O.S.B. Charles M. Denny Jr. Marcene Ann “Marcie” Dockendorf Jerome “Jerry” Evans Rosalia Fink, O.S.B. Most Rev. Harry J. Flynn Dominica Freund, O.S.B. Joseph “Joe” Gessell Louise Marie Kriz Gorman Clement Gustin, O.S.C. Raymond Alfred Haik Kathleen Rose Haws

Golden Charles Hoersten Rev. Arthur H. Hoppe Mary Catherine Jacoby, O.S.C. Naomi Sørlien Jasmer Louis R. Kaverman Most Rev. John F. Kinney Brian Andrew Kokesh Msgr. Donald H. Krebs Edward J. Kucera, O.S.B. Anne Malerich, O.S.B. Pamela Gail “Pam” McAlister Aloyce Mhagama Chet Mirocha, Obl.S.B. Ortega Sadik Mohamed Kevin Muldoon Colleen Cooney Murphy James R. “Jim” Murphy Marvin Muyres

Andrew Dũng Lạc Nguyễn, O.Cist. Dorothy Zilka Pierzina Charles (Leon) Pilon Robert J. Pongratz Cokie Roberts Paul J. Smith Doris Steinfeldt, O.S.B. Gary Everett Stoos Marie Theis, O.S.F. Colleen B. Thielman Delroy J. “Butch” Thielman Gary Craig Thomas, Obl.S.B. Veronica T. “Froni” Toenies Timothy Tomczak, O.S.C. Nicholas W. “Nick” Weiland Jr. Roberta Werner, O.S.B. Francis H. “Frank” Zeck Jr., Obl.S.B. John Zilverberg

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/.

áclav Havel (1936–2011) who, for most of his life, was known as a poet in Czechoslovakia, was a champion of justice and environmental responsibility. He was thrust into the role of political dissident and eventually, against all odds, became the president of the Czech Republic. In an interview, he made this observation: “[Young people are beginning] to seek, among the diffuse and fragmented world of frenzied consumerism . . ., for a point that will hold firm—all this awakens in them a longing for a genuine moral ‘vanishing point,’ for something purer and more authentic. These people simply long to step outside the general automatic operations of society and rediscover their natural world and discover hope for this world” (Disturbing the Peace [1990]). Even though this insight is decades old, it has not lost any of its relevance today—especially in light of multiple studies that point to a decidedly shrinking number of young people who believe in God or who belong to an “organized religion.” What accounts for this lack of hope? While one could easily blame it on the “fragmented, frenzied” world of consumerism, the answer is likely more complex. The most obvious issue would be the unchurched state of young people’s parents and friends and other role models. Some analysts also blame the economy, technology, and even the tragic events of 9/11.

There is a search for hope occurring.

Whatever the cause, there is a search for hope occurring—hope that, sadly, is not easily found in today’s society, certainly not found in the emptiness of consumerism. If this is the case, a Benedictine way of life should be drawing record numbers to the vocation directors’ offices. Sharing all things in common is among the aspects of monastic life that gets the most attention from young people. It is so countercultural, so mysterious, and so attractive to those seekers of hope. May they find their way to a Benedictine monastery very soon!

Hope . . . is a dimension of the soul. It is an orientation of the spirit, an orientation of the heart; it transcends the world that is immediately experienced, and is anchored somewhere beyond its horizons. Hope . . . is not the same as joy that things are going well, or willingness to invest in enterprises that are obviously headed for early success, but, rather, an ability to work for something because it is good, not just because it stands a chance to succeed. Václav Havel

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Abbey Banner 4 This Issue Robin Pierzina, O.S.B. 5 Illuminating Hope Abbot John Klassen, O.S.B. 6 The Gloria Genevieve Glen, O.S.B. 8 Benedictine Volunteer Corps Kirk Harrington 10 Caring for the Land Augie Witkowski 12 Jefferson Lecture Columba Stewart, O.S.B. 14 Holiness in the Ordinary Martin F. Connell

Abbey Retreats 14–16 February 2020: 27–29 March 2020: 9–12 April 2020: 24–26 April 2020:

Winter 2019–20 Volume 19, Number 3

16 Rule of Benedict: Shaped by the Seasons Eric Hollas, O.S.B. 17 Beuronese Art Nathanael Hauser, O.S.B.

30 Musings of a Monk Tara Durheim 31 Obituary: Hilary Thimmesh 32 Cloister Light

22 Minnesota 13 Aaron Raverty, O.S.B.

33 Abbey Chronicle Robin Pierzina, O.S.B.

25 THE SEASONS Conrad Diekmann, O.S.B.

36 Fifty Years Ago

26 Lives of the Benedictine Saints: Blessed Columba Marmion Richard Oliver, O.S.B. 28 Meet a Monk: John Chrysostom Long Timothy Backous, O.S.B.

37 Monks in the Kitchen: Sweet Perfection Ælred Senna, O.S.B. 38 In Memoriam 39 Searching for Hope Timothy Backous, O.S.B.

Married Couples Retreat Presented by Patrick and Shelly Flynn Lenten Retreat Presented by Father Edward Vebelun, O.S.B. Triduum Retreat Presented by Jessie Bazan Easter Retreat Presented by Annetta Sutton

Six-Day Directed Retreat 5–11 March 2020 Each retreatant will be matched with a spiritual director based on the information provided in the application process. The focus of the daily spiritual direction sessions will be the retreatant’s prayer life and experience of God. Register online at abbeyguesthouse.org; call the Spiritual Life Office: 320.363.3929; or email: spirlife@osb.org.