Last week, I made my annual retreat to Holy Cross Monastery in West Park, New York. Holy Cross Monastery is an Anglican Benedictine community of men who have taken vows of obedience, chastity, and poverty. Each year, my annual retreat is a moment to press restart on my spiritual life. As I drove up through the densely-packed metropolitan area surrounding New York City, with wild drivers racing past me, I was reminded of what I was leaving behind in order to be on retreat. By the time I entered the winding driveway down the hill to the monastery, which sits on the west bank of the Hudson River, I was ready for a freer schedule and a great deal of silence.
When I go on retreat, I usually do nothing more than structure my days around the brothers’ rhythm of prayer and engage in prayerful reading and contemplative prayer, with daily naps and moments spent on the porch, gazing at the gently flowing Hudson River. At Holy Cross, the daily rhythm of prayer includes Matins at 7 a.m., Eucharist at 9 a.m., Diurnum at Noon, Vespers at 5 p.m., and Compline at 7:30 p.m. I attend all the services, and indeed, in my time there, I find myself longing for those definite markers of public prayer. Within a few hours of arriving at the monastery, I found my mind, heart, and body slowing down from ninety miles an hour to about five. The monks at Holy Cross recite and sing the liturgies and the words of the psalms much more slowly than we would at Morning or Evening Prayer at Good Shepherd, and I quite like it. One must move at a different tempo than ordinary life. Silence is savored. The point is for everyone to listen to one another and speak at the same pace. The very practice of praying reenforces the brothers’ sense of fellowship and community. No one is intended to stand out or dominate; all keep pace together.
Holy Cross Monastery is one of many monasteries across the world rooted in the Benedictine tradition, following in the pattern of hospitality, communal living, and prayer modeled by St. Benedict of Nursia (480-547). Benedict’s famous “Rule,” by which monks abide, holds balance as its operating principle. Nothing is either too harsh or too lenient. It’s a beautiful way of shaping one’s life. As I mentioned to our parish vestry in my rector’s report this week, on my recent visit to Holy Cross, I was struck by the way in which ministry is shared among the brothers. I would usually arrive early to each service to sit in silent prayer, and I’d notice that one brother would be responsible for arriving early, too, in order to set out the readings and turn lights on. Another brother would be responsible for tolling the warning bell ten minutes before each service, and then he would ring the bell as we prayed the Angelus. Yet another brother would brew coffee each morning at 6 a.m. and set up for breakfast. Brothers would rotate through dish duty after meals. Everything was shared. Indeed, every brother was essential to the life of that community.
I was struck by the shared ministry of the Holy Cross brothers because I have been actively pondering shared ministry in the parish. Life is more balanced, from a Benedictine perspective, when duties are collectively owned. This is no different in the parish than in the monastery. But it’s more than just a practical aspect of communal life; it’s theological. When we’re baptized, we belong to each other in a different way. When one is sad, we all are sad. When one rejoices, we all rejoice. When one of us is away from Sunday Mass, we miss that person. One can technically be a Christian on one’s own, but one can’t be a very good one!
The main ministry of the Holy Cross brothers is hospitality. St. Benedict’s Rule famously says that “[a]ll guests who present themselves are to be welcomed as Christ” (ch. 53). I believe that one of the charisms of Good Shepherd, Rosemont, is hospitality. Our retreat house ministry has become a visible manifestation of this charism. Countless people who’ve stayed in our retreat house have commented on the warmth of the building, as well as the warmth of the welcome. In a fairly inhospitable age (and sometimes inhospitable Church), our charism of hospitality is a great gift to the world.
There is a final attribute of Benedictine living that I find inspiring. On the website of Holy Cross Monastery, the monks note that “Benedictines take a vow that includes stability, which has traditionally been understood as stability of place. We seek to be rooted and through that rootedness to grow deeply in this home God has given us.” This is similar to our understanding of a parish. While we have parishioners who travel from three different states to worship at Good Shepherd, the point is that our own parish church is intended to be a place of stability for its members. There is something quite valuable in not flitting from parish church to parish church but in finding one’s own home in a particular parish. Yes, sometimes things might seem stale or boring, but the point is that in taking root in one location as a place of prayer, we are molded and shaped by the community found there. Ultimately, we’re shaped by God. Our identity as members of Good Shepherd, Rosemont, is not tied to the whim of the moment or our feelings; it’s tied to a sense of rootedness in this place, which is rooted in the larger Episcopal Church, which is rooted in the worldwide Anglican Communion, which is rooted in the worldwide Church catholic. Such an understanding of rootedness and stability is a gift in an age of restlessness and consumerism, where people are constantly seeking greater fulfillment or changing jobs or trying out the latest fad.
My experience at Holy Cross Monastery made me grateful for the monastic witness in the Church. It also made me profoundly grateful to be at Good Shepherd, where there is much stability, given chiefly in our constant pattern of prayer. If you can, find time in your own busy lives to go on retreat. Or if you can’t go away, spend some time at our own retreat house. I hope that you will find times of intentional quiet and prayer to root you ever more deeply in the love of God, which is never changing and which sustains and nourishes us eternally.
Yours in Christ,
Father Kyle