This column is called “The Edge,” so my topic choice this week might seem a little odd. I’m writing about one of the oldest institutions in Western civilization: the monastery.
Monastic-type living stretches way back. It even pre-dates Christianity, possibly as far back as the Greek Pythagoreans, whose community some consider the first monastery in western culture.
In Christianity, the monastic life started with St. Antony. In 285, St. Antony fled to the wastes of Egypt, there to live by himself in an old empty fort. He stayed there nearly 75 years, coming out only twice. People flocked to see the holy man and follow his example. He organized them into loose groups and placed them in separate and scattered cells, instructing them to come together only for common worship. A little later, a man named Pachomius organized these groups into formal monasteries.
From Antony’s and Pachomius’s beginnings in upper Egypt, the monastic ideal spread to Palestine and Europe. Many of the greatest saints of the age pushed the monastic ideal: Athanasius, Jerome, Basil, Martin of Tours, John Cassian, and, finally, Benedict, who founded his monastery at Monte Cassino (southern Italy) in 529 and wrote his Rule for Monasteries, an ingenious little book that deflated the excessive asceticism that could be found in a few monasteries, struck a healthy balance between manual and intellectual labor, and demanded three vows: poverty, obedience, and stability. He hit the perfect chord, making monasticism much more appealing. The Rule spread and new monasteries sprung up throughout Europe. Centuries later, they would be properly credited with preserving culture through the devastating times known as “The Dark Ages.”
These days, you don’t hear much about the monks. There was a small renaissance when the Trappist Thomas Merton published The Seven Storey Mountain in 1948, but other than that, you simply don’t hear about them.
So I was delighted when I received the current issue of Gilbert Magazine. The cover story is by the country’s most-recognized expert on G.K. Chesterton, Dale Ahlquist, and entitled, “A Visit to Clear Creek Monastery.” With the theme “Whenever monks come back, marriages will come back” (a GKC quote), Ahlquist discusses the rise of a new monastery in the foothills of the Ozarks in eastern Oklahoma.
Ahlquist refers to it as “a new old monastery.” Its monks appear to be mainly Americans, who entered the Benedictine Abbey of Fontgombault in France years ago. After more than two decades of formation, they came back to America and established a monastery on a 1,000-acre parcel in the Tulsa diocese, far off the beaten path.
But though it’s off the beaten path, it is attracting others. In Ahlquist’s words, “It is the same thing that happened whenever a monastery was built in Europe. Famlies start moving to the surrounding area and settling in. They want to be close to a monastery. They realize that this ‘silent center’ is the center of faith, but also of culture. This is where they want to raise their children.”
It’s beautiful stuff.
But the thing I found most fascinating about the story is this: These men are progeny of John Senior's humanities program at the University of Kansas a few decades ago. Senior advanced an intelligent, radical, and Catholic view of civilization. And he did so convincingly, so much so that his students starting converting and some entered convents and monasteries. I remember reading elsewhere that parents complained to the U of K administration about the alleged brainwashing (read: “brain cleaning”). The program was subsequently terminated — but not before Senior sowed some seeds. And the seeds have sprouted a strong plant in eastern Oklahoma.
And it’s a strong plant with roots in the old ways. And in that, the monastery is radical: by reverting to the old-fashioned — the tried and true for millennia — it’s slashing against the roots of modernity. In this, it’s on the cutting edge.
I began this piece by saying that my topic choice for an “Edge” column might seem odd. I trust everyone sees now that it’s not. Monasteries are always on the edge, since they’re always on the border between this world and the next.
And today, monasteries are on the edge for another reason: they cut against every modern excess and pretension, especially the monastery at Clear Creek.
© Copyright 2006 Catholic Exchange
Eric Scheske is an attorney, the Editor of The Daily Eudemon, a Contributing Editor of Godspy, and the former editor of Gilbert Magazine.
