St. Ben’s provided space for connections

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This article was published 12/06/2021 (1926 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

Celtic spirituality calls them “thin places.” The term refers to locations where the veil between this world and the other world are particularly porous. In other words, they are places where connection with the sacred is more likely.

Words can seem too clumsy to describe divine energy, but Mahatma Gandhi tried. In his Spiritual Message to the World in 1931, he wrote: “There is an indefinable, mysterious power that pervades everything. I feel it, though I do not see it. It is this unseen power that makes itself felt and yet defies all proof, because it is so unlike all that I perceive through my senses. It transcends the senses.”

Some famous “thin places” include Lourdes in France, the Blue Mosque in Istanbul, and Madeline Island in Lake Superior, which is holy to the Ojibwa and Cree.

Winnipeg has long had St. Benedict’s Monastery, which over five decades has hosted tens of thousands of visits for retreats and encounters of significance. Many Manitobans would like to visit the monastery one last time, now that it’s been sold to a private interest, but pandemic restrictions prevent visitors. Regrettably, the many friends of St. Ben’s won’t have a chance to say goodbye to their treasured space.

The monastery in West St. Paul has always been run by the Roman Catholic Sisters of the Order of St. Benedict, but it wasn’t just for Catholics. The gracious sisters always welcomed people of different faiths — and people of no faith — for quick visits or long stays in one of the monastery’s 124 homey bedrooms.

These rooms were often occupied by visitors going through tough times. The monastery was a healing place for people trying to kick an addiction, leave an abusive marriage, grieve a loved one, or adjust from unemployment.

Artists found the profound silence inspired creativity. Many sketched or painted in the monastery’s third-floor art space, and others claimed one of the building’s many cubby holes to write and journal. Weather permitting, the artistic types often drifted outdoors, perhaps encountering deer as they wandered through the monastery’s 74 acres of heavily-wooded land, welcoming their muses as they sat on the banks of the Red River or under a tree that was particularly inviting.

Other visitors were more interested in mystical pursuits. For those who asked, one-on-one spiritual direction was available from the sisters, or from the monastery library in books and recordings by spiritual guides such as Thomas Merton, John Main, Henri Nouwen, C.S. Lewis and Thomas Keating.

Some people visited St. Ben’s every week. For instance, a meditation group met on Thursday evenings for years, driving out from the city even in bitter winter weather because the contemplative ambience of the monastery, combined with the vibes of fellow meditators sitting together in silence, helped them open their true selves to an ethereal presence.

Other regular visitors included the Oblates, a group of laypeople from different Christian denominations who vow to live by the monastic rule as closely as their individual circumstances permit. In other words, Oblates don’t give up their day jobs or leave their spouses, but they adopt monastic guidelines as a template for their private lives.

The hub of the monastery was its chapel, which is ringed by stained-glass windows and covered by a distinctive arched ceiling. Saturated by decades of prayer, the chapel reverberated with reverence, even when empty.

The sisters gathered in the chapel three times a day to sing, recite Psalms and pray with a large book called the Breviary, flipping frequently to different sections as prescribed by an ever-changing church calendar. Their rapid-fire navigation of the Breviary often stumped newcomers who had the privilege of praying with the sisters, and wise visitors learned to sit close to a sister to spy the page number to which she turned her Breviary.

The heart and soul of St. Ben’s has always been the sisters. People who don’t know nuns are often unsure what to make of them. They seem radically counter-cultural. At a time when many people seem to worship money, power, sex and status, the sisters have none of that. Instead, they focus on one priority, and they’re staking their lives on it.

The sisters vow to structure their lives according to a 1,500-year-old monastic guidebook, the Rule of St. Benedict, which is a practical guide to living out their holy scripture. Chapter 53 of the Rule advises monasteries to extend hospitality: “Let all guests who arrive be received as Christ.”

Manitobans can testify with gratitude that St. Ben’s has shown hospitality in exemplary fashion. Well done, good and faithful sisters!

carl.degurse@freepress.mb.ca

Carl DeGurse is a member of the Free Press editorial board.