Saint Vincent, A Benedictine Place

Saint Vincent Memories

I entered Saint Vincent Seminary in September 1946. This was not my first acquaintance with Benedictine monks. I grew up on the North Side of Pittsburgh and the first priests I really knew were the Benedictines who staffed Saint Mary's Parish on the North Side. It was in that parish that I made my First Communion. Benedictine priests were my first confessors. It was in that parish that I attended Sunday Mass and was catechized. It was for me the Church. The monks were, for me, holy men, albeit somewhat mysterious. Coming to Saint Vincent was not traumatic. I just saw a lot more Benedictine habits than I did in the parish.

One of the first impressions I had of Saint Vincent was the importance of the role that the Benedictine monks played in bringing the Gospel of Jesus Christ to this part of God's Kingdom. I was impressed by the beauty and care given the liturgy. It was uplifting to see a large community of monks, clerics, and novices chanting the Divine Office. Major ceremonies were major ceremonies. Sunday Solemn Vespers were made more solemn with the deep, bass voice of Archabbot Alfred intoning in German-accented Latin the Pater Noster.

One Pentecost Sunday we had a super-Solemn Vespers, all in Latin. Monks were all over the sanctuary in various liturgical vestments. There was lots of good music and clouds of incense. It also happened to be Mother's Day. As I left the church, I heard a woman tell her companion, "They certainly do Mother's Day up right, don't they?" I said not a word.

I learned to appreciate the many ministries of gifted monks. They taught in the college, in the seminary, in the prep school. They served in parishes, and, at times, I even wondered if I should join the community.

At that time of my life, I would never have believed that someday I would be the bishop of the diocese which has Saint Vincent Archabbey as one of its treasures. During my seminary days, the Diocese of Greensburg did not exist. I wondered if I would ever be ordained. The thought of being bishop never entered my mind.

But when the Holy Father appointed me the third bishop of Greensburg, one of the thoughts that immediately came to mind was that I would have the wonderful opportunity of working more closely with the abbots and monks of Saint Vincent Archabbey. They are esteemed friends and co-workers. Their presence in the Diocese of Greensburg is a blessing. Archabbot Douglas was a valued co-worker when we both served the Church of Pittsburgh.

Many of the monks whom I knew have followed Boniface Wimmer into eternity. But I remember them all as having had a great impact on my life. Father Nepomucene was gruff and stern, but probably loved us in his own way. He inspired holy fear. Father Blaise, kind and gentle, would repair rattling windows while we were taking a philosophy test. In the front of my philosophy book a previous student had written, "Father Oliver goes down deeper, stays down longer and comes up drier than anyone we know." Father Ralph brought music to our ears. Father Quentin tried to pour some culture into us. Father Felix spoke about the Council of Trent as though he had been there. Father Paulinus was always generous with his time as confessor and spiritual guide. There is a rumor that he will never die.

I realize that sometimes distance lends enchantment to the view. Every day at Saint Vincent was not wonderful. Life then, as now, had good days and bad days. But one thing I know for certain. My six years at Saint Vincent Seminary and my present years as bishop of Greensburg with the Benedictine presence have had a tremendous impact for good on me. I will take responsibility for the flaws in my nature. I will give credit to the Benedictine monks for some of the good that may be in me. The spirit of Saint Benedict is alive and well in our world today because of this Benedictine community. We thank God for the blessing of their presence, their witness and their ministry.

Anthony G. Bosco

Saint Vincent Parish, 1790-1846

Saint Vincent is situated on land that was deeded to John Fraser of Bedford in 1766, shortly after the French and Indian War. This land was soon to be called the Sportsman's Hall Tract because it was used for hunting. In 1790 Father Theodore Brouwers, a Franciscan friar, purchased the property and established on it the oldest continuous Catholic parish in western Pennsylvania. It was then known as Sportsman's Hall Parish. The often-pictured Sportsman's Hall structure of hewn logs was one built for Father Brouwers to serve as a residence and church.

Father Brouwers and his successors brought ministry to the Catholic settlers of this area, so much so that the Sportsman's Hall Parish has been called "the Cradle of Catholicity in Western Pennsylvania." The most renowned among those early Catholic settlers in the area were the three brothers Christian, Simon and George Ruffner; and Christian's brother-in-law, Henry Kuhn. The beginnings of the Sportsman's Hall Parish coincided with the establishment at Baltimore of the first Catholic diocese in the United States, and with the installation of its first leader, Bishop John Carroll.

It was also during this time that the United States Constitution became effective with the inauguration, on April 30, 1789, of George Washington as the first president.

But Father Brouwers was at Sportsman's Hall Parish only six months until his death. His major contribution to Saint Vincent was the continuity that he ensured through his Last Will and Testament, which left the property in trust to the Catholic priest who would succeed him.

There were fifty-six years of Saint Vincent history before the arrival of the Benedictines in 1846. And these fifty-six years were rough-and-ready times for both pastors and parishioners on this frontier. A legendary pastor of Sportsman's Hall Parish was Father Peter Helbron, a Capuchin friar, who served from 1799 until his death in 1816. Through his kindness he was able to nourish a growing congregation, largely composed of German and Irish immigrants. Father Helbron, despite his advanced age, not only cared for the Sportsman's Hall Parish, but also did missionary work throughout seven counties of western Pennsylvania. He became the friend and confidant of the legendary prince-priest, Father Demetrius Gallitzin, "the Apostle of the Alleghenies."

But the development of the Sportsman's Hall Parish was given its greatest impetus in these early years by a newly ordained priest, Father James Stillinger. He served the Sportsman's Hall Parish from 1830 to 1845, and gave it a sense of community by building a brick church and parochial residence as a center of activities. It was at the dedication of this church on July 19, 1835, that Bishop Francis Kenrick of Philadelphia placed it under the patronage of Saint Vincent de Paul, whose feast day it was. From that day Sportsman s Hall Parish has been known as Saint Vincent Parish. Thus the origin of the name, Saint Vincent, which has endured to the present day as the name not only of the Parish but also of the Archabbey, Seminary and College. This Saint Vincent church was used for one hundred and twenty-eight years until it was destroyed in the fire of 1963. Those who were acquainted with Saint Vincent from 1905 to 1963 knew this church as the "Students Chapel." The walls of the parochial residence still stand as a part of Maur Hall, the oldest of the existing Saint Vincent buildings.

In 1830 Father Stillinger had been appointed not only as pastor of Sportsman's Hall Parish but also as the founding pastor of Saints Simon and Jude Parish in Blairsville, where he served for forty-three years until his death in 1873.

In 1845 Father Michael Gallagher was appointed to take the place of Father Stillinger as pastor of Saint Vincent Parish. It would be a short pastorate for Father Gallagher, one of preparation for the coming of the Benedictines one year later. In fact Bishop Michael O'Connor of Pittsburgh successfully persuaded Father Boniface Wimmer to make his foundation of a Benedictine monastery and school on the historic Sportsman's Hall Tract. Bishop O'Connor lost little time in naming Father Wimmer as pastor of the parish; and, so as successor to Father Brouwers, he was in possession of the Sportsman's Hall Tract in accord with Brouwers' will.

The Saint Vincent of these first fifty-six years prepared the way for the arrival of the Benedictines in 1846. There had been early indications that this Sportsman's Hall Tract was destined to serve as the site for a monastery and as a center for education as well. In fact there is evidence that in 1794 the Benedictines of Downside Abbey in England had been offered by Bishop Carroll this property on which to establish a monastery and school, an offer that they did not accept. In 1835, in addition to building a church and parochial residence, Father Stillinger had a small one-story schoolhouse erected on the property. It was destined to serve as a temporary residence for Father Gallagher, and for Father Wimmer and his companions as well. This arrangement was necessitated by the fact that from 1845 to 1847 the parochial residence was serving as a temporary convent and academy for the Sisters of Mercy until they could move into a new building at an adjacent location, known as Saint Xavier Academy. Another indication of early interest in education at Saint Vincent was the attempt, also in 1845, by Father Gallagher and Bishop O'Connor to establish a minor seminary at Saint Vincent an undertaking which was passed on to Father Wimmer upon his arrival one year later.

And so there was fertile soil in which Father Boniface Wimmer could plant the first Benedictine monastery and school in the United States. The role of Saint Vincent Parish and the Sportsman's Hall Tract was forever altered by the arrival, on October 18, 1846, of Father Wimmer and his eighteen companions. From that day Saint Vincent would be inseparably linked with the Benedictine monastery and educational institutions that would flourish on this hallowed hill.

Omer U. Kline, O.S.B.

Saint Vincent, Reflection on the Mystery of Place

A student or visitor to Saint Vincent campus has often remarked to me about a feeling of peace that comes by stopping to reflect in a favorite spot. My favorite is the graceful row of crosses that mark the monks' resting place in the cemetery. A view of the sprawling campus from that special sanctuary evokes a symbolic and mysterious presence, and provokes in me the deepest level of feeling.

My first visit to Saint Vincent was in 1964. I have vivid recollection of coming to Saint Vincent in order to interview as part of the selection process for the architect who would design a new monastery building. Just a year and half before, a disastrous fire had destroyed most of the monks' living quarters. Many questions flooded my mind as I was escorted through a maze of corridors and spaces. What is going on in this place? How can a monastery, a college, a parish, and a seminary all relate to each other? Is there a unity of intention? What is the fundamental attitude that I as an architect must grasp and express in the design of a new building? Does this environment help develop an awareness and a sense of caring about what a person sees and feels in this world and how one acts in this life? Should the new building be an affirmation for action, or simply a refuge from the world?

Over a period of thirty years as an architect and planner, I have come to recognize and appreciate the great diversity of people and interests that make up the Saint Vincent community. Monks and laypersons, young and old, men and women, students, faculty, administrators, and craftsmen with diverse interests science and religion, art and architecture all exchange ideas as part of their daily routine. A rich architectural heritage underlies this diversity. Some of the buildings which exist today were constructed by monks over a century ago with bricks made by their own hands. One senses in the architecture of those early days a simplicity of intention and a commitment to create an honest, humane environment.

I knew that the character of all new construction would have to respect and be in harmony with the authentic spirit of this heritage. For example, the new science complex, completed in 1969, could not be in conflict with the character of the basilica, completed in 1905. No conflict between the old and the new; no conflict between science and religion. Through intense interaction with many people over the years I have discovered that Saint Vincent is a human energy center, a motivating force through its people and its environment, inspiring both reflection and action. There is recognition that our world is incomplete, and often threatened by violence. In the face of this reality one senses the fundamental attitude of affirmation. Saint Vincent is not a place of despair or cynicism. It is a place of hope.

What is the responsibility of an architect in the Saint Vincent environment? First of all, planning and design must be in harmony with the spiritual affirmation of hope. There must be a natural, effortless integration of the new with the old. New spaces must be sensitive enough to preserve, yet bold enough to proclaim. A respect of diversity, a respect for land and sky and trees. Not a mindless destruction to achieve short-term goals that will gradually impoverish the human spirit. The architect must take the bold risk of defining, enclosing, protecting, and creatively building so as to enable people to celebrate the Good and to dance without restraint. Only in this way will the people who experience the mystery of this place have confidence in themselves, and thus hope and build in the face of the incompleteness and the violence they will encounter.

As an architect whose life-vocation is to study how environment can enrich the lives of people, I have been privileged to participate in creating the ambiance of the Saint Vincent campus. New spaces are carefully woven into the fabric of the community and encourage one to live a centered life. Architecture offers a cultural bridge to expand human experience. It provides an atmosphere for a kind of astonishment that occurs when one discovers a new thought, a new view, a new space. Perhaps even a moment of illumination occurs and the need to share the secret of discovery, which then becomes a shared possession. A love of place. A love of being. There is a spiritual exchange when one is affirmed by the ambiance, and one in turn is inspired by the ambiance to affirm. In this way, learning becomes fundamental inspiration.

The architecture of Saint Vincent is part of a unique cosmos that heralds a declaration of life taking creative possession of space. It is a call to share in the world's making to enhance what exists by the sheer power of one's presence and action. We are in awe of the mysterious truth that every woman and man is called upon on the foundation of their own life, understanding, suffering and joy to create and to build for us all.

Tasso Katselas

Boniface Wimmer, The Founding Story

Greeting every visitor who approaches the Saint Vincent Archabbey Basilica, a bronze statue of Archabbot Boniface Wimmer, founder of the first Benedictine monastery and school in the United States, stands prominently at the basilica entrance. In one hand is the Rule of Saint Benedict while the other hand points forward with outstretched arm. This pose aptly symbolizes the founder's gift for combining fidelity to tradition with boldness of vision.

Energized by this vision of faith, Wimmer's initial efforts have developed into a multitude of apostolates currently undertaken by monks of the Archabbey in partnership with dedicated laypersons: a college, a seminary, some 30 parishes, a priory and high school in Savannah, the Catholic Center at Penn State University, and priories in Brazil and Taiwan. Furthermore, the American Cassinese Congregation of 21 independent monasteries in North America, totaling over 1200 monks, can trace its origins largely to the creative impulse of Boniface Wimmer.

European Background

The atmosphere for Benedictine monastic life in Europe at the beginning of the nineteenth century was anything but promising. All but a handful of the hundreds of monasteries that had flourished during the Middle Ages had been suppressed. After 1820, however, a period of restoration witnessed the rise of leaders who perceived the value of reviving the monastic movement, a movement which had contributed so extensively to the formation of Christian culture on the continent. Prominent among these heads of statue was Kind Ludwig I of Bavaria.

In 1830 the young monarch decreed the restoration of Saint Michael Abbey at Metten. This abbey, active since its founding in the eighth century, had been suppressed in 1803. The abbey came to life again in 1830 when two elderly monks returned after an absence of 27 years. Clearly the abbey could not survive without an influx of new members. The bishop of the Diocese of Regensburg approached priests of his diocese to inquire whether they might wish to join the new community.

One of the young priests who responded to the invitation was Sebastian Wimmer. Born in Thalmassing, Bavaria, on January 14, 1809, he pursued his studies at the University of Munich and was ordained a priest on August 1, 1831. Upon entering the novitiate of Saint Michael Abbey in December of 1832, he took the name Boniface and thus chose as patron saint the great eighth-century missionary apostle of Germany.

Projectenmacher

Almost from his earliest days as monk at Metten, Wimmer placed himself at the center of action. While serving as professor at the school of the newly established Saint Stephen Abbey in Augsburg, he worked to reestablish Saint Michael's as an independent abbey. He strove to promote the establishment of a Benedictine house of studies in Millersdorf to train missionaries. His involvement in such causes earned him the rather derogatory nickname Projectenmacher, meaning, "quixotic dreamer" or "visionary."

As early as 1842 Father Boniface began to petition his abbot, Gregory Scherr, for permission to go to America as a missionary. In May 1845, Wimmer met Father Peter Lemke, a German priest serving in Carrolltown, Pennsylvania, who, with the approval of Bishop Michael O'Connor of Pittsburgh, had traveled to Europe to seek aid for the bishop's new missionary diocese. In Munich he met Boniface Wimmer, who thereafter was even more determined to carry out his plan to found a Benedictine monastery in the United States. After many refusals of Wimmer's repeated petitions and upon the urging of King Ludwig and the Apostolic Nuncio to Bavaria, Abbot Gregory finally gave his consent.

On July 25, 1846, Wimmer and 18 candidates for monastic life departed from Munich and, after a stormy ocean voyage, arrived in New York City on September 15. None of the 18 had received any monastic training until their leader gave them instructions about the Benedictine Rule on board ship. When they reached Carrolltown, they found the land unsuitable for farming. After a meeting with Bishop O'Connor, who offered the group property called Sportsman's Hall nearer to Pittsburgh, the band of missionaries settled at this present site of Saint Vincent on October 18, 1846. Shortly thereafter the 18 candidates were invested as monks. Thus was achieved the beginning of the first Benedictine community in the United States.

Monasticisim with Heart

Despite early hardships and setbacks the community's growth exceeded anyone's expectation. In August 1847 Father Peter Lechner, O.S.B., of Scheyern Abbey in Bavaria arrived with 20 candidates for the lay brotherhood. By 1849 there were nearly 50 men in the community. The college and seminary also grew quickly. Wimmer was determined to maintain a high quality of education amongst the rigors of frontier life. His philosophy of Benedictine education has often been characterized by his own quote: "I will not spare expense to teach the students first the necessary, then the useful, and finally the beautiful things, as long as they contribute to their refinement."

Wimmer understood that a good school depended foremost on a competent faculty. He sent his monks out for studies in the best European and American universities. Two lay professors from Bavaria, who were added to the faculty in 1848, were eminently qualified in mathematics and music. The catalogue of 1859-60 could boast of a library of 12,000 volumes and a curriculum preparing students for professions in law, science, medicine, education and business. Between 1847 and 1857 Saint Vincent received nearly 300 oil paintings from the collection of King Ludwig. In 1866 Abbot Boniface established a house of studies in Rome for American Benedictine students. Saint Vincent Seminary, too, was soon firmly established: already by 1848 there were 25 students enrolled, with a faculty of five professors.

Saint Vincent was raised to the status of an independent priory in 1852. Then on August 24, 1855, Pope Pius IX officially promulgated an apostolic brief whereby Saint Vincent became an abbey, the first monastery of the new American-Cassinese Congregation in the United States. At the same time the Pope personally appointed and blessed Wimmer as the first abbot of Saint Vincent for a three-year term. When this temporary appointment expired, Wimmer was elected by the monastic community according to the usual Benedictine practice.

New Foundations

Soon Boniface Wimmer's vision of extending Benedictine communities throughout the United States began to show signs of fulfillment. In 1856 the abbot and monastic chapter considered requests from four bishops to establish missions in their dioceses. The monks decided first to send missionaries to the Diocese of Saint Paul, Minnesota, a region with many German settlers but few priests. A priory was established there in 1858, and in 1866 it attained the status of an abbey. This community, Saint John's Abbey, grew to be the largest Benedictine community in the world. In 1857 the Saint Vincent community responded to an appeal for help from Kansas. The original foundation of two monks expanded to become a priory in 1858 and then became Saint Benedict's Abbey in 1876. Despite his reservations about founding a monastery in a city, Abbot Boniface agreed to send monks to Newark, New Jersey, in 1857. The unique urban community became Saint Mary's Abbey in 1884.

The Saint Vincent community also felt a special responsibility for service in the American South. Monks were stationed in Kentucky, Virginia, North Carolina, Texas, and Alabama. Some of these ventures failed and the abbot had to withdraw his men. Others developed into independent abbeys, notably Belmont Abbey in North Carolina (1884) and Saint Bernard Abbey in Alabama (1891). Abbot Boniface and the community also responded to requests for Benedictine monks in Illinois and Colorado. Springing from these early foundations were Saint Procopius Abbey (1894) and Holy Cross Abbey (1925). In 1857 Wimmer remarked, "Each abbey must become the mother of other abbeys: the mission spirit does not allow me to rest nor to stand still."

The founding story of the Benedictine Sisters in the United States is also related to Boniface Wimmer and the foundations Saint Vincent had made. In 1851 Wimmer had appealed to the Priory of Saint Walburga at Eichstatt in Bavaria for sisters to teach in the settlements where he had established monasteries. The following year Wimmer helped three sisters from Eichst‰tt to establish a community in St. Marys, Pennsylvania. The subsequent story of his relationship with the sisters was often one of contention over the issues of authority and the allocation of funds. The matter of jurisdiction was finally settled by a Roman decree of 1859 which determined that foundations of Benedictine Sisters in the United States would be independent of Wimmer and the American-Cassinese Congregation. Nevertheless, the sisters and the monks ultimately have built upon one another's work, and both groups have made significant contributions to church and society.

The Civil War caused the community anguish. Saint Vincent was cut off from its foundations in the South, and some monks were drafted into the Northern army. At various times the monastic community suffered from serious crop failures and financial debt. The 25th anniversary year of 1871 began with a financial misadventure in Kansas and ended with the destruction of Saint Joseph Priory in Chicago during the great fire in that city. Still the abbot was able to inspire the community to see promise in each crisis and to share the little they had with others. During the bank failure of 1872-73, Wimmer wrote, "We daily give food to thirty or forty strangers and shelter them in our exterior buildings." His practical theology in the face of crisis might be summed up in his comment "Man's adversity is God's opportunity."

Forward, Always Forward

Boniface Wimmer died on December 8, 1887. Despite all the setbacks and difficulties, Wimmer's 41 years of prayer and work in America had produced results. The college and seminary had prospered, now bolstered with a charter from the Pennsylvania legislature to grand academic degrees. The foundations from Saint Vincent formed a network of monastic houses and schools from coast to coast. Abbots of the foundations had received their formation under Wimmer and in many cases reflected his enterprising spirit. Toward the end of his life he wrote, "No one imagined us capable of accomplishing anything significant, and yet we did accomplish something. God's grace was obviously with us..." The legacy of the indomitable spirit that Boniface Wimmer gave to Saint Vincent can be summed up in his own words: "Our customary tendency to move forward must continue. Forward, always forward, everywhere forward."

Donald S. Raila, O.S.B.

The Birth of a Butterfly From a Protestant's Eye

In the beginning...
St. Vincent is only a view, a lovely panorama from my home.
St. Vincent is a cloistered place where few women dare to tread.
St. Vincent is a New monastery forbidden but for a few.
A place for bread...and German nuns serving food.

The beginning of the awakening...
St. Vincent is a theater where creativity abounds.
The Basilica provides beauty beyond my imagination... a
Christmas splendor... a Messiah performance... an awesome
place for weddings and funerals.
The communities began to blend. The panorama comes alive.
Students, female, too, bring life to this lovely, serene
place... a place to be recognized...to be stimulated
through knowledge... through the arts.

And now...
St. Vincent is a true part of our community without losing
beauty, dignity, or purpose.
I feel a part of St. Vincent, as can all who choose to be.
I love St. Vincent and its stimulating people. I am pleased to have experienced the birth of this beautiful
butterfly.
God has blessed us all.

Diana B. Kreiling

Saint Vincent Prep and Saint Xavier Academy

The story of the Sisters of Mercy in western Pennsylvania connects with that of the Saint Vincent Benedictines from earliest days. We came to the newly established diocese of Pittsburgh with its first bishop, Michael O'Connor, in 1843, and in 1845 opened Mount Saint Vincent Academy for young ladies on the land where Saint Vincent Archabbey now stands. When the Benedictine monks arrived in 1846, the Sisters of Mercy moved to the Kuhn Farm property about one mile west of Saint Vincent to a new convent and school, and renamed it Saint Francis Xavier Academy.

The monks lent assistance to the Saint Xavier community from the start, celebrating Mass in the convent chapel, giving religious instructions to the academy students, and bringing the consoling presence of the church with graveside blessings at the sisters' burial in Saint Xavier Cemetery. The Prep School and Saint Xavier Academy developed a friendly association sharing scholastic activities down through the years musical programs, school plays, debate tournaments. Saint X girls cheered at Prep sports events, and students from both schools danced at one another's dances.

Both places influenced my life beginning in the late 1940s. My family moved to Latrobe from an area of central Pennsylvania where there were very few Catholics, so Saint Xavier provided my first opportunity for Catholic education. In the summer of 1950 Father Ralph Bailey recruited a group of Saint X students to assist with cataloguing materials in the music department at Saint Vincent. My two sisters and I were among the volunteers. We passed many happy hours that summer in the environment of working-fun. During the next several years we regularly traveled between SXA and the Prep for academic, social, and spiritual events. I've heard it said that Prep graduates are among the most loyal alumni of Saint Vincent. It is not difficult to imagine why this is so when I recall the lasting impression left by monks who were teachers there in the 1940s and 50s. Many a snowy Saturday morning Father Warren Raab drove a carload of us to a debate tournament in Pittsburgh. Father Jerome Rupprecht led groups of students from both schools on field trips through the woods and marshes of Westmoreland County. Often on Saturday evenings, too, he would organize and chaperone a skating party for us at Harry's Rink in Latrobe. Father Wilfred Dumm always had a ready ear for a Saint Xavier student weighed down by some problem, and made religion classes both challenging and fun. Sometimes, too, Father Louis Sedlacko would call my dad to ask if "one of your daughters would do an act of kindness" by accompanying some shy, dateless Prep student to the Kitty Ball or prom.

Those Xavier years not only cultivated my vocation to the Sisters of Mercy, but they formed a sense of Saint Vincent as a good place that remains with me to this day. While I probably could not have named it as such at age fifteen, I recognized the monks as educated men and people of faith, the teachers of Christian culture down through the ages. Years later when I came back to teach at Saint Vincent Seminary and College, that early awareness of a place grounded in a long, rich tradition returned. The Benedictines seem able to create a wholesome environment of faith, while holding religiosity and false piety at bay. I've watched it over the decades: young monks animated by a visible fervor, and older monks ennobled by fidelity in quiet and unnoticed routines; faith expressed in rare moments of good church liturgy, and faith lived in daily moments of ordinary work and prayer; scholar-monks engaged in biblical exegesis in the classroom in the morning, and monk-scholars planting trees to beautify the campus in the afternoon. Not heaven, but a blessed place, real and earthy, where grace appears persistently present.

Saint Vincent Prep closed in 1971, and fire destroyed Saint Xavier on March 16, 1972. On the day of the fire, it was Brother Pat Lacey and the Saint Vincent fire brigade whose fast and efficient rescue efforts saved everyone, elderly sisters to young students, from harm. The neighborly community relationship begun in 1846 had come full circle.

Patricia McCann, R.S.M.

China

Benedictines from Saint Vincent Archabbey first went to China in 1925 when the country was in the midst of armed conflicts between warlords and revolutionary forces trying to unify the fledgling Republic. The Benedictines intended to begin a priory in Peking and to establish the city's first Catholic university. In 1929, with the approval of China's Ministry of Education, Fu Jen Catholic University opened its doors to Chinese students.

This project in China had begun at the request of Pope Pius XI and was under the auspices of the American-Cassinese Congregation of Benedictines with Saint Vincent Archabbey as the primary sponsor. Over twenty Benedictines from various American abbeys, the greatest number coming from Saint Vincent, shared the work at the priory and university in these early years.

Archabbot Aurelius Stehle of Saint Vincent Archabbey was the primary moving spirit behind this Benedictine venture into China and was the first chancellor of Fu Jen Catholic University. His untimely death in 1930 and the Great Depression in the United States, however, made the continued operation of the university by the Benedictines highly problematic. In 1933 Fu Jen Catholic University was handed over to the Society of the Divine Word, who then operated the university until it was taken over by the Chinese Communist government in 1950.

In 1960, at the urging of Pope John XXIII, Archbishop (later Cardinal) Paul Yu-Pin began working for the reestablishment of Fu Jen Catholic University in Taiwan. At this time, Archabbot Denis Strittmatter sent Father Hugh Wilt, who as a young cleric and priest had been a member of the Peking endeavor, to Taiwan to assist with this undertaking.

In the spring of 1963, the Saint Vincent community under the leadership of newly-elected Archabbot Rembert Weakland approved the establishment of a dependent priory in Taiwan near the reestablished Fu Jen Catholic University. A priory building was constructed and was dedicated on the feast of Saint Boniface in June 1964. The foundation was named Wimmer Priory after Archabbot Boniface Wimmer, the founder of Saint Vincent Archabbey. It has become a center of Benedictine prayer and hospitality. The Divine Office is recited daily in Chinese. Monks from Wimmer Priory have also worked as teachers and administrators at Fu Jen Catholic University. The priory in the 1960s established a Catholic community in the neighboring town of Linkou, which is now a very active parish of Chinese Catholics. The large yard at the priory has functioned as a playground for three generations of Chinese youngsters.

At present Brother Nicholas Koss from Saint Vincent and Father Cyprian Weaver from Saint John's Abbey (Minnesota) are assigned to Wimmer Priory. A number of priests and brothers from other religious congregations are also in residence at the priory while they study Chinese at Fu Jen Catholic University. Both Brother Nicholas and Father Cyprian teach at Fu Jen. Father Cyprian is assisting with the establishment of a College of Medicine. Brother Nicholas, who teaches in the English department, has organized two international conferences on literature and religion that were held at Fu Jen (1986 and 1990) and attracted scholars from Asia and the West. He also participated in the establishment of an Asian association for the study of literature and religion.

Benedictine Sisters from Saint Benedict in Minnesota went to China in 1930 and first worked at Fu Jen Catholic University and later at Kaifeng. In 1949 the community moved to Taiwan. Since Father Hugh's arrival in Taiwan in 1960 the monks of Wimmer Priory have worked closely with the sisters in attempting to bring Benedictine life to China. The sisters and Brother Nicholas are also planning to start a program for Benedictine Oblates as well as to work on the translation of books about Benedictine Monasticism into Chinese.

In recent years the Chinese Mainland has opened considerably to the outside world. At the instruction of Archabbot Douglas Nowicki, Brother Nicholas has been working with officials of the Beijing Fu Jen Alumni Association and administrators of the Fu Jen Catholic University in Taiwan towards the reestablishment of a Fu Jen in Beijing. As a first step in this direction, Brother Nicholas and other professors from the Taiwan Fu Jen will be teaching short-term courses in Beijing on the grounds of the old Fu Jen Catholic University.

As part of its sesquicentennial celebration, Saint Vincent Archabbey will host an international on the history of Benedictines in China and on Benedictine values and Chinese culture.

Paul R. Maher, O.S.B.

Brazil

The story of our priory in Brazil begins with the Saint Vincent community meeting of January 9, 1963. An excerpt from the minutes of that meeting reads as follows: In regard to the Priory of Santos, many capitulars were interested, and it was almost the unanimous opinion of the capitulars that this project should be undertaken as described in the last Chapter.  There is an additional note that Archabbot Denis Strittmatter ended the discussion by stating that a few men would be sent to the priory during the summer of 1963.

Many monks volunteered to be part of the new community in Brazil. Archabbot Rembert Weakland, who had recently been elected to succeed Archabbot Denis, selected four of us who had volunteered and appointed me prior. The monastery, which was now a dependent priory of Saint Vincent, had been founded in 1650. The five members of the Santos community welcome our arrival four German-born priests and Brother Miguel, the only Brazilian-born member.

Now, as I reflect on my experience of thirty years in Brazil, one strong feeling predominates that seems to suffuse the factual information that comes to mind. From the beginning, the Brazilian people welcomed me as a brother and friend. And in turn, I have given my heart to the people of Brazil. I still recall those first days when we were still learning a new language and the misunderstandings that often brought hilarious results. After my first sermon in Portuguese, a teacher from the local high school patiently went over all the mistakes that I had made.

The monastery, Saint Benedict Priory, is located near Vinhedo, a city of 45,000 inhabitants. We are about an hour's drive from Sao Paulo, a city with a population of 17 million people. Our long-term objective has been to establish an independent Brazilian Benedictine community at Vinhedo, which in turn would lead to other foundations.

We took several measures in order to build a solid monastic community that would enable us to focus our attention on meeting the religious needs of the people in the region. The priory had been operating a fair-sized winery and a farm when we arrived. In 1968 we voted to close the winery, and two years later we began to sell the farm. The proceeds from the sale of the land enabled us to construct a monastery, which was dedicated in November 1972. The Siloe Retreat Center was inaugurated in 1975; and the church, begun in 1986, was dedicated in 1991.

Our community, with Father Cristiano Aparecido Brito as prior, now numbers seventeen, all but four being Brazilian. Six of the monks are in the formative stage of studies on the graduate or undergraduate level. More than 3,000 persons come to the retreat center annually. We do a lot of counseling work, and are challenged to provide theological formation for lay leaders of base communities which are multiplying rapidly. Some of the monks teach theology at a nearby university. In order to support our religious mission we are also engaged in teaching English classes, translating, and growing vegetables for the monastery and retreat center.

Pentecostal and fundamentalist sects are proliferating in Brazil. Our community will have to assume a greater role in ecumenical dialogue, which at present is almost non-existent. During the 20-year military dictatorship, the vast majority of people became poorer. Our voice in support of the poor in their struggle will continue to be a major responsibility. The face of the Catholic Church in Brazil is slowly changing toward a "preferential option"for the poor.

We have made steady progress toward accomplishing our long-term goal of establishing a Brazilian Benedictine community. The prior and the majority of our members are now Brazilian. We are, however, not yet an independent priory; we continue to count on the support of the Saint Vincent community and our many American friends.

Leo Rothrauff, O.S.B.

Saint Benedict

Benedict's name and tradition arrived at Saint Vincent with Boniface Wimmer and his eighteen companions. They brought with them the Benedictine way of life from Saint Michael Abbey at Metten in Bavaria and in so doing made Saint Vincent heir to a monastic tradition which stretches back to the venerable abbeys of Monte Cassino and Subiaco in Italy.

Born into comfortable circumstances at Nursia about the year 480, Benedict was sent to Rome for higher education. He left the Eternal City after only a short time, however, disturbed by the loose morals of his fellow students. Benedict established himself as a hermit at Subiaco, and once he was "discovered, monks of a nearby monastery asked him to be their abbot." His tenure with that community was short-lived, however, since he was much more zealous than they. At one point, his monks tried to poison him. Benedict returned to his hermitage at Subiaco and was joined by a number of disciples. He built twelve monasteries on the hills outside the town, and about the year 529, left the monasteries at Subiaco in the charge of others and set off with several companions for Monte Cassino. It was on those heights that he destroyed a pagan temple, established a community, and wrote his Rule for Monasteries. Benedict died at Monte Cassino sometime after the year 546.

These are the basic facts about Benedict's life, but one can know a good number of facts about someone without ever really knowing the person. The Benedict who is worth knowing, the author of the Rule and the subject of Book Two of the Dialogues of Saint Gregory the Great, was a man of flesh and blood, filled with the Holy Spirit and faith. To get to know Benedict on that deeper personal level is to meet someone whose life continues to inspire people even fourteen hundred years after his death.

Benedict was passionate for God and the things of God, and he knew that human life involves making choices which provide life with its basic orientation. In the Rule, Benedict challenges his monks to make a fundamental choice and to recognize that "the love of Christ must come before all else." He reinforces this by referring to Christ's own teaching: "First of all, love the Lord your God with your whole heart, your whole soul and all your strength, and love your neighbor as yourself."

To indicate that this choice of faith is at the heart of monastic life, Benedict expands on his passion for the things of God in the conclusion to the Rule: "This, then, is the good zeal which monks must foster with fervent love: 'They should each try to be the first to show respect to the other'(Rom 12:10), supporting with the greatest patience one another's weaknesses of body or behavior, and earnestly competing in obedience to one another. No one is to pursue what he judges better for himself, but instead, what he judges better for someone else. To their fellow monks they show the pure love of brothers; to God, loving fear; to their abbot, unfeigned and humble love. Let them prefer nothing whatever to Christ, and may he bring us all together to everlasting life.'

For Benedict, both Christianity and monastic life call forth what is heroic and what leads to glory. They both involve a lifelong search for God driven by passionate faith.

Benedict's zeal for God and the things of God was matched by his deep appreciation of the human person. He was humane. Gregory the Great writes of how Benedict worked his first miracle already as a youth because he was "a kind and generous-hearted boy and felt compassion for his nurse in her distress." The second chapter of the Rule is entitled "What Kind of Man the Abbot Ought to Be." It might just as well be called "What Kinds of Monks the Abbot Can Expect to Have." Some monks will be obedient, docile, patient, upright, and perceptive; but Benedict observes that others will be undisciplined, restless, negligent, disdainful, evil, stubborn, arrogant, and disobedient. His care for this last group is remarkable. The great love of the Good Shepherd, who left the ninety-nine on the hillside to go in search of the stray, is evident when Benedict writes about how concerned the abbot ought to be for monks who deserve to be excluded from certain parts of monastic life. The abbot must exercise the utmost care and concern for wayward brothers and he ought use every skill of a wise physician in his treatment of them. Benedict urged the abbot to act with all speed, discernment, and diligence in order not to lose any of the sheep entrusted to him because he has undertaken care of the sick, not tyranny over the healthy. Seldom does Benedict exhort the abbot as ardently as he does when he writes concerning the care which the abbot ought to exercise for these monks who are the most troublesome.

Benedict was thoroughly grounded in tradition. Indeed, because he was rooted in tradition, he was able to do something new. When he received the monastic habit from the monk Romanus, Benedict joined himself to a tradition formed by the Bible, the Catholic Church, and the monastic movement. Much of the Benedictine Rule is made up of quotations from or allusions to the Scriptures, and monks are read the orthodox and Catholic fathers at their common prayer. Benedict relied on The Rule of the Mater and great monastic authors such as Basil, Augustine, and Cassian. Nonetheless, even though monastic life had already flourished in the church for over two hundred years and various monastic rules had already been written, Benedict wrote his own. The new conditions which he found in sixth-century Italy called for a new response. Benedict s appropriation of the Christian monastic tradition obliged him to do something original.

Saint Benedict did great things, but he probably did them very unconsciously. He could hardly have envisioned establishing a tradition that would spread to continents which he never knew existed. At the conclusion to the Rule, he encourages his monks to keep the little rule which he wrote for beginners. Yet through this "little rule" and the passionate faith which it embodies and inspires, Benedict has shaped our civilization and touched our lives.

Kurt J. Belsole, O.S.B.

A Tribute to the Sisters

The Benedictine Sisters were a beloved part of the Saint Vincent community and were responsible for food service from 1931 to 1987. The first group of sisters arrived at Latrobe on February 25, 1931, under the leadership of Mother Leonardo Fritz. By 1939 forty sisters had come to Saint Vincent from their convent of Saint Walburga at Eichstätt in Bavaria.

The character of Saint Vincent today owes much to the loving presence of the sisters for so many years. They cooked and served meals, canned food and made preserves, made vestments and ceramics, knitted afghans and booties, prayed and sang. They taught us all "we were all their students" that love and good humor transform work, and make every work a personal gift.

During World War II the sisters were prevented from sending money back to their motherhouse at Eichstätt. As a consequence they were able to purchase property near Greensburg, Pennsylvania, where they established Saint Emma Monastery. In May 1987 the sisters closed their convent at Saint Vincent and moved to Saint Emma, where they continue their ministry as a thriving retreat center.

In 1989 Saint Vincent honored the sisters through a Founders' Day Exhibit at the King Ludwig Gallery on campus. The program of the exhibit was titled "Saint Vincent's Gentle Touch: The Benedictine Sisters." All who have been privileged to know them are grateful for the abiding influence of that loving "gentle touch." In a true spiritual sense the sisters will always be a beloved part of Saint Vincent.

Douglas R. Nowicki, O.S.B.

The Benedictine Sisters
They Also Teach

No longer able to work,
The old sister
Sits praying for us all
And dozing.

In her sleep,
She drops her beads;
But her gnarled old hands
Still move in two familiar patterns:
They pull the missing beads
And then they move
Back and forth,
Still peeling potatoes,
Her work of over fifty years

At night, though,
She often stirs.
The other sisters hear her
In her sleep
Encourage a sister, long dead.
"Mach schnell, Schwester."
Hurry up!
Mother Leonarda told us:
The boys are sick;
Make them soup;
"Mach schnell."

After the sisters'meals,
She pushes her walker; and
Barely able to hold the rag,
She cleans the tables after them.
She cannot work now
So she prays
For all of us
And dreams of Him.

Richard Schulte

Outrageous Hope

He planted trees. Told he had had but six months or so to live, he planted trees. I wondered why he didn't plant flowers  he'd get to see them bloom. Or why not spend time in prayer and study, steeling his spirit for death? Now, over twenty years later, as I pause on my way to class, looking out the window over the tops of the lindens and ornamental pears he planted, I think I know. I think of Jeremiah planting trees, trees that would take years to bear first fruit, even as he prophesied the imminent destruction of Jerusalem and Judah...I think of Jeremiah: what extravagant faith, what outrageous hope. What a gift he left us, in these trees planted all around us and in this garden I now look out over, a garden named "Melvin Platz" in memory of Father Melvin Rupprecht.

As I think of my students waiting for me, these trees seem an obvious metaphor for the teaching vocation. Many have written about how plumbers and electricians know rather quickly turn a valve, flick a switch whether or not they have been successful, while teachers only rarely see their successes or failures, the results are so far off in time and distance. Yet we are Jeremiahs, Father Melvins, nurturing faith and hope in our hearts that the trees will mature, and so on we toil.

Perhaps a less obvious metaphor embodied in these trees, however, is that of teachers as trees. On this sunny day, I think of a note I recently received from Tim Zadai, class of '68. In it, Tim recalled how disappointed he was with the grade I had given him on his first essay in freshman writing. Yet he felt encouraged to do better in my course, encouragement that he told me led him to continue working to improve his writing at Saint Vincent and later in both graduate school and career. That's the "student-as-tree" metaphor, but I am thinking more about what Tim included with his note a photocopy of that first essay, an essay written for the first class I taught at Saint Vincent. So Tim's essay was the first I ever assigned, and among the first I ever corrected and graded. I watch white clouds light the sky behind Kennedy Hall and recall with a wry smile the folded photocopy Tim sent, its few sparse and fussy grammatical corrections, its cursory final comment, its overconfidently written C minus, and see it now as a measure of my growth as a teacher, for I find in it (my "freshman essay"too) an assignment that I would not think of giving to freshman students today, corrections and comments I would not make today, and the absence of comments I should have made. We've grown together here, these trees and I, students and colleagues, and Penny and Ryan, my family.

In the fall of 1990, when I was lucky enough to be awarded a national bronze medal in the CASE/Carnegie Foundation's 1989 Professor of the Year program, I told Brother Norman, College Provost, that I felt I would not have received such an award had I been a teacher at a college other than Saint Vincent. I arrived at Saint Vincent a lapsed Methodist at a time of religious and spiritual ferment on campus right after the Second Vatican Council. Saint Vincent turned out to be important in the formation of my Christian faith. A little later, students and faculty concerned about social justice led me to make a commitment to the world's hungry people: I've done anti-hunger work with government, secular, and ecumenical agencies and with Redstone Presbytery for almost twenty years now, and in a sabbatical year in 1980-81 worked as Hunger-Action Enabler for the Synod of the Trinity (Presbyterian Church USA). These gifts of the college were pivotal to my career.

Saint Vincent also gave me the encouragement and the means not simply to teach students, but to learn from them too. When Father Maynard, then college President, rehired me for my second year, he gave as his most important reason that I "frequently had been observed talking with students outside of class" how telling of priorities that shaped me here. Bill Snyder,'73, an English department colleague, has named the characteristic mode of teaching at Saint Vincent "accompaniment" faculty here accompany students in learning. I think that that accompaniment is the true Benedictine character of Saint Vincent.

Our alumni and alumnae have achieved remarkable things in life, many of them beyond all that seemed possible when they were students. Ask most from the forties and fifties about how that happened, and they will tell you that a monk came to awaken them before class when they were freshmen, or worked extra hours to tutor them, or did something special to help them through a crisis gave what our college bulletin used to call a "personalized education." Ask later alums, and they'll tell you the same story, naming with real warmth both monks and lay faculty who gave them time, caring, and concern far beyond the required.

Finally, I think these trees, as well as Father Melvin's planting them, are a metaphor for Saint Vincent itself. Another element of the Benedictine character of the place is its slowness to change. Ten years after graduating from college, I retuned to my alma mater to find it changed not only its buildings and campus, but the very essence of the college. I doubt that most who return to Saint Vincent feel that way. Change takes its good old time here, and some changes never happen for example, in the sixties, when almost all colleges, even Harvard, were abandoning required liberal arts courses, our faculty added courses to our liberal arts core curriculum. Our slow evolution at times is frustrating to administration, faculty, and students alike, but also it is a conserving force, like the slow growth of trees which gives them long life. I look out over Father Melvin's trees, remembering students and colleagues now departed, and think the trees might symbolize something important about us: our history is less important than our heritage, a living tradition of extravagant faith and outrageous hope.

Now I'm ready for class, eager even after all these years: I'm sure the students will be ready for me, too. It's early April: the seniors are restless; the trees in Melvin Platz grow upward toward the light, their branches spiked with buds about to break into leaf yet another year.

Ronald E. Tranquilla

They Brought You Their Sick

Brother Cancer came to live with me in the monastery about five years ago. He arrived with an unexpected impact to tell me how important life is, my life, where I am and as I am. Eventually I got the message. He stays around to serve me in my making the decisions that define my path. Another Brother of the same name, but no relation, rushed in unannounced last year, and for months upset all my cherished plans, before retreating. "You didn't really learn all you need to, you know," he seemed to warn, "but you'd better try again." I can't escape their lurking around, but my commitment is not to them.

Nor is it to Brother Depression, who has attached himself to me as an unwelcome companion for even longer. I wonder sometimes if he's made perpetual vows. A cumbersome burden, often in the way. He would take over if he could. "So deal with it," Life sighs. There aren't going to be only invited guests at your party.

Jesus, they brought you their sick and their repulsive outcasts in crowds, and you welcomed them. Those whom others pushed away to the fringes drew your attention and respect. Each and every one got a healing word, a consoling touch. For once someone recognized them, affirmed their right to exist. You taught your followers to bring in the abandoned and put them in places of honor at the lavish banquet of life. And after you ministered to the hopeless and vulnerable, you went and became one of them yourself. "He saved others, but he can't save himself," people scoffed. You wept from discouragement. You sweated out your isolated agony. You bled under mistreatment. You endured public humiliation and the bitterness of betrayal, denial. But you hoped and trusted, despite temptation. You offered yourself to be lifted up, and for love of others--that's us. When you felt most alone, you were closest to us. You know us because you became like us.

And who is there to bring me to the healing pool, to the Water of Life?

Illness has brought me to the deepest sense of community I have ever had. My brother monks have brought me to Jesus like those Gospel people who cared, and elbowed close to him with someone dear to them. And in our shared life and common commitment they have brought Jesus to me, healing and encouraging by their acceptance. Jesus-like, they have recognized me for what I am, and kept light in my life, while saying, "You belong in this crowd with us. Whatever is being passed out, we'll see that you get some too."  From them I learn that I will belong no less if my demons impair me or if I falter in my work. I had to submit to sickness to know that (it's one way to learn). And from them good things have come to me.

Even those I have lived with and who have now gone ahead have taught me the path to follow. The old abbots, Alfred and Denis, in their peaceful acceptance of infirmity and death. Elder brothers like Ildephonse, Leopold, Valerian. Buddies like Gus/Robert, Donald, Cecil, Alexander, Maurus. My younger brothers Ian, Michael, Roman, and Jimmy. Dear Jim. Tormented and outgoing, curious, laughing, irrepressible and irreplaceable. Outrageously unconventional, hungry for love and for Christ. Life opened a plan for him in circles of many hearts. Life-threatening illness brought him into the heart of community. Sudden death took him with a shock to us all. When we were ill together, you shared your faith with me, we talked of the same hopes and fears, we laughed and wondered together. You left me grateful.

Such are my brothers, much like me, and now we look forward to being together inseparably, one eternal Day, in our Brother Christ. Then illness will have served its purpose of strengthening the ties among us. My infirmities will not pursue me beyond death, but our love will make a place for me in a perfect and complete community. Belonging here helps me believe I will belong there too.

Brice Ryan, O.S.B.

The Challenge of Our Moment

Those of us who rejoice in the Benedictine tradition see a great parallel between the age of Benedict and our own. His and ours are turning points in civilization. We, as he, are witnessing a change from one system and cultural context of life to another. Whether we name our moment as the post-modern age or as the dawning of an age of individualism spawning a new barbarism, parallels with the age of Benedict are striking.

Around him Benedict witnessed the decay and darkness of a society losing its way and rapidly losing its life as well. The Roman Empire that had been the foundation of human civilization for centuries was in decline and that classic age, which is still an inspiration in so many ways today, was then in a state of total collapse.

Our own world, while rejoicing in many technological and scientific advances, continues to rush somewhat headlong to embrace a philosophy that sanctions the termination of unwanted and inconvenient human life, exalts violence and a sexual indulgence that would probably bother, if not shock, some whom we have disdainfully called savages.

Saint Benedict understood that a new Christian civilization could be built in spite of the age of darkness. This would come about by seizing upon and living that fundamental principle of ora et labora, pray and work. He recognized that the spiritual reality we call God's kingdom in our midst and what Augustine called the city of God would come to be only through the work of people and faith. He knew that without a constant personal communion with God nurtured by daily time in prayer, we will not have the life of God within us, the life which alone brings us to the full stature we are meant to enjoy.

Over a decade ago, these sentiments were expressed in the declaration of the council of European Bishops Conference as representatives of 24 episcopal conferences gathered with Pope John Paul II for ceremonies commemorating the 15th century of the birth of Saint Benedict. The bishops of Europe remind us that "the Christian faith tells us that human beings are created in the image of God, even if that image is sometimes disfigured by sin." They go on to remind us "that Jesus Christ came to set free every man and woman and to place before them in a unique way the challenge of liberty: freedom for the whole reality of human life, spiritual and physical; freedom for the whole of humanity, even those left on the fringes of society and those robbed of their human heritage." 

The bishops state that "this image of humanity has influenced European culture in a very special way. It will always provide us with the fundamental basis on which to ground all human dignity." What was said by John Paul II and the bishops of Europe about the old world is equally true of the new. Even our feeblest attempts to nurture human rights, human dignity and the future of humanity all take their inspiration from the gospel proclaimed in and through Christ's Church.

As in every age, the truth today remains that prayer is our contact with God. And God's kingdom will be nearer completion when all peoples and nations are filled with the life of God given to us in Christ. But it is equally true, as in past ages, that many in our world today seem to have forgotten that the fullness of our life does indeed come from God alone and the fullness of life can be communicated to us only if our lives are open to God.

So, too, is human labor truly the second important and constitutive element of human life. We hear so often today the concern that the work which so many people engage in bears little relevance to who they are both as human beings and as God's people. So many today view their work simply as a necessary evil without which they could not live comfortably, so their labor is not an authentic and intentional contribution to the development of society or of God's kingdom or even of themselves. Likewise, others in our day value work only for the wealth which it brings them. Too few in our age appreciate the creative and life-giving value of human labor which Benedict understood.

It is no secret then that what so many are longing for and seeking today is the renewing spirit which Benedict brought to the Europe of the Dark Ages "a spirit which has been kept alive since the time of this great saint by those who follow his Rule and way of life." So many are seeking some sense of the spiritual in their lives and the principles which brought the world out of darkness and into an age formed by the gospel of Christ. It should be little surprise then that Saint Vincent, which continues this centuries-old commitment to the faith and to the service of pastoral ministry and higher education, is looked to by the Church and the communities of this region to provide active leadership in the renewal of our society.

In this post-modern age, an age that is often confused, an age that is tempted to undervalue faith and religion, prayer and human labor, an age that is described as slipping into the darkness, we today need as much as ever the light of Christ that was held high by Benedict in Europe and by Boniface Wimmer in these lands. We need to regain the vision based on the message and values of these great pastors whose zeal and labor truly altered history and brought nearer to completion the kingdom of God. We continue to need this community at Saint Vincent to bring the brilliant light of Christ to a world tempted to darkness, and to bring this troubled age beset by conflicting voices the faith and heritage of Christ alive in Benedict "a message which can truly renew once again our society and our civilization."

Donald W. Wuerl

Coeducation

The theme of the 1983 Orientation Program "A New Beginning to an Old Tradition" began a new era in the history of the college. That fall marked the beginning of coeducation at Saint Vincent. A freshman class of 240 students, whom 33 percent were women, enrolled. Within ten years the goal of having women represent half the total enrollment was achieved.

One hears that the transition was so successful because of wide consultation and careful planning within the community. More significant, however, was the spirit of Benedictine hospitality and community that permeates the campus. The first women students were genuinely welcomed into the community and were invited to make themselves equal partners with the men. In welcoming the first coeducational class at the beginning of the 137th academic year, the president, Father Augustine Flood, invited all the new members of the Saint Vincent community "to take ownership." Indeed, women students have accepted the invitation and have in turn made significant contributions in all aspects of college life.

Women, like men, are generally attracted to the college by its academic reputation. Majors in business, science, math/engineering are as popular among women students as they are among men. Female students, like their male counterparts, successfully pursue graduate studies and careers in these fields as in others.

From old photograph and from conversations with alumni, one can tell that sports have always been a big part of campus life. The college encourages all students to get involved in some sport, and only secondarily emphasizes winning intercollegiate championships. Yet athletic teams have often distinguished themselves in intercollegiate competition. Older alumni talk about the baseball teams that were good enough to play exhibition games with the Pittsburgh Pirates. The 1950 Bearcat Tangerine Bowl victory over Emory and Henry College of Virginia is still recalled by many alumni.

Women students have been successful in the college's sports programs. Interest in intramural sports has been high. Competition in women's intramural flag football has been as intense as that of the men's intramural competition. Women have also distinguished themselves in intercollegiate athletics, particularly in basketball. Women's basketball teams have won conference titles eight of the past ten years, and have participated in national championship competition for the past three years.

Women students equally with men have lent their skills to many areas of campus life: prefecting, student government, orientation programs, campus ministry, newspaper, yearbook, honor societies in fact, to every club and organization. Women have served as student government president and have been the recipients of the prestigious President's Award for the past five years. The Campus Ministry Program has been the center of campus life because of the contributions of men and women as singers, lectors, eucharistic ministers, organizers of social activities, and as volunteers for outreach programs at Clelian Heights School for Exception Children and the Jubilee Soup Kitchen.

Coeducation has become of much a part of our tradition that imagining a time when Saint Vincent College was not coed is difficult. Boniface Wimmer and the other Benedictines who founded the school would be proud of this accomplishment.

Alice Kaylor

Benedictine and American
Clashing or Blending Values

Historians studying Catholicism in the United States will note how often our generation used words like "evangelization" and "inculturation." We were fascinated, they will say, by what happened when the values found in the Catholic tradition came into contact with other ways of understanding this world and with other traditions.

Many Catholics in Europe, not recognizing the particular characteristics of the Church in the United States, continue to see the Church here as but an extension of their own. Although the European roots of our Catholicism remained clear for many decades, distinctive American qualities have mingled with the old to form something new and unique. In this context we Benedictine rightly ask: In the history of American Catholicism is there something particular about how we have adapted to the values and traditions we found here, something that makes us different from monks elsewhere? Moreover, we ask if there is something special that we can contribute to Church and society.

Though the American mentality still had much in common with Europe when Boniface Wimmer arrived here, it had already begun to show signs that would differentiate it from its European roots. The philosophical concepts about freedom and individualism that came from the Enlightenment and that fostered the French Revolution and the War of Independence on the 18th century were accepted as positive values in the United Sates, even by the Church. The Catholic Church in Europe, on the contrary, was unanimous in its opposition to that movement, remembering that those ideas deprived it of its previous liberty and means of existence. Concepts such as individual rights, democratic participation in government, fair play ("taxation without representation"), and free expression of ideas were taken for granted in the new atmosphere but were still considered dangerous in European Church circles. In education the role of science and inductive reasoning from experience became commonplace in the United States. Europeans tended to remain more philosophical and speculative. New attitudes were also caused by the size and vastness of the new land that afforded unheard of opportunities for the venturesome. The frontier mentality wanted constantly to seek new horizons.

Blending the New and the Old

For Benedictines, adaptation to the new world took place rapidly. Benedictines must become indigenous at once because the vow of stability roots them in the culture and place where they build their monasteries. They belong to that specific place. Furthermore, new members must come from the country and region.

In blending their old tradition with the new the monks of Saint Vincent saw at once the importance of education. Their solid Bavarian educational tradition with its emphasis on the classics and science held them in good stead. It was not by accident that Saint Vincent College became known in those fields of study. In the new surroundings the monks saw that education was important for everyone, not just for the wealthy. Thus the monks adjusted well to the methods of the new educational systems developing in the United States and tried to add to those their own aesthetic tradition. They succeeded in blending the new and the old in their schools and in their monastic liturgies.

The spirit of rugged individualism was not just an American trait; the Bavarian founders were also strong individualists. Wimmer often had problems with priors assuming authority that was not theirs. The monks used that rugged individualism to good advantage in the founding of new monasteries whose survival required freedom to make decisions and on-the-spot adjustments. Saint Vincent sought, nevertheless, to keep community life intact against the individualism that characterized the nation. The delicate balance between community and individual was not always easy to maintain. The demands of parochial work, with monks often living alone for long periods of time, took monks away from the communal life. In such cases Wimmer tried without much success to form small priories so that the monks could live together. The monks had brought with them from Bavaria humane and compassionate discipline. At least in theory, Saint Vincent never abandoned the importance of community worship, communal meals and recreation, and chapter meetings. As novices continued to learn, the values of community life were extolled and, although practiced with many exceptions, never abandoned.

Schools and Pastoral Activities

Saint Vincent, it must be recalled, was founded before the monastic reforms of the abbeys of Solesmes and Beuron that sought to repudiate the school tradition and emphasize a more contemplative type of monastic life. I doubt if a more enclosed monastic style of life would have adjusted as easily and as quickly to the new American values as did the Bavarian tradition of monasticism with its schools and pastoral activities.

The new monastery in America also continued to develop the talents of its individual members to the fullest. In Europe it was taken for granted that such academic development would already have been finished when one entered the monastery. Monks in Europe did not go to major universities to specialize in various fields of study. One of the intuitive responses of American Benedictines was to value the talents of the individual and gives monks the best specialized training and education.

When Archabbot Alfred Koch called me to his office in 1948 before sending me to Rome for graduate studies, he talked of the importance of good theological training. He instructed me to take the major courses taught by the best scholars in the field but advised me not to absorb my time by taking their exams. He also instructed me to spend the first summer in France to obtain more proficiency in French and to study Gregorian chant, then to spend the second summer in Germany to make myself more proficient in that language and to study piano. In the meantime in Rome I was to take music privately, both theory and piano. "But don't let your studies interfere with your education," were his last words. He was being true to the Saint Vincent and American tradition of developing the talents of the individual.

Democratic Processes

Free expression and total participation in governance caused tensions in the monastery but did not seriously divide the community. Throughout the history of Saint Vincent monastic chapter meetings were often heated and intense. As the years went by, the power of the abbot became more and more circumscribed in the canonical constitutions as the seniors and the Chapter began to play a larger role. The Solesmes constitutions, for example, adhered closer to a literal interpretation of the Rule of Saint Benedict and stated that the abbot was to hear everyone but then to decide what he thought best. At Saint Vincent the abbot was bound by certain decisions of the Council of Seniors, by decisions of the Chapter of those monks living at home, and for the most important decisions by the whole Chapter that included those living outside the monastery. The abbot had to persuade and could not force his personal wishes upon the community.

Democratic processes entered the monastery but never became congregational  in practice, as happened in many mainline Protestant denominations influenced by American democratic principles. Monks disagreed with their abbots but never would have thought of eliminating the concept of abbot itself. A balance was always maintained between strong leadership and the demands of participation that the new culture postulated. Having been a member of the Council of Seniors before coming abbot, I know how much Archabbot Denis Strittmatter, like many abbots before him, struggled with these restrictions which seemed so contrary to the text and spirit of the Rule. Because of the American influence, the style of government in an American monastery tended to be more democratic and participatory.

Prayer and Work

American culture was pragmatic and experiential. The monastery absorbed that culture. Ideological monastic theories rose and fell but none ever took hold within the Saint Vincent community. For example, every decade or so saw the introduction of ideas from the Solesmes or Beuronese reforms that would have brought the monastery into a more contemplative mode, but they were not accepted. A certain pragmatic balance between the basic ideals of the Rule and the needs of the Church was sufficient to maintain the unity of the community. There have been no major ideological splits in the community of Saint Vincent in its history.

The frontier mentality also found expression in the last century in the thrust to found new monasteries. Wimmer's missionary spirit blended well with the American frontier mentality. New foundations rapidly succeeded one another.

There were some aspects of the American culture that the monastery avoided. For example, the industrial revolution separated work from calling or vocation in life. Work for the middle class often was a drudgery and just a means of earning enough money to keep the family together. The monastery did not accept that trend. Work in the monastery was seen as a part of the monastic vocation and the way each monk contributed to the community, the church, and to society. Such an integration of work with the monastic ideal in the new setting is one of the finest achievements of the monastic tradition of Saint Vincent. Saint Vincent has never been known as a "contemplative  monastery," but it has never abandoned its quest for balance between prayer and work. Also, it has not lost its thirst for intellectual and artistic pursuits.

The Story is Not Ended

What contribution can American Benedictine monasticism make today, both to Church and society? The monastic experience can teach the Church that participatory processes do not destroy hierarchical structures. The Benedictine Rule in the chapter on "Summoning the Brothers for Counsel" describes the kind of wisdom that the Church today is avidly seeking. Benedict knew that the Holy Spirit speaks through all, even the Daniel or youngest in the community. He knew that the process of discerning the action of the Spirit must involve all. In my years as bishop I can say that I learned much from my monastic experience. I enjoy and profit much from meetings of the Priests'Council and the Lay Pastoral Council. I would ask the consultors to meet every day if I could. Such bodies in the Church have yet to reach their full potential. The monastic tradition with its long history of discerning through listening to all in the community could help. A monastery like Saint Vincent is a fine example of such participatory governance.

The Benedictine ideal of a sane balance between work and prayer could contribute much to our Church and to the world around us. Our society runs at a hectic pace. Few people lead a balanced life. The need to prioritize time and weigh the values of more satisfying personal relationships against more income are real questions for Americans today.

Education in the Bavarian Benedictine tradition has not lost its importance. In addition to the traditional interests in language, literature, history, and the arts, that tradition saw a special mission to the scientists, to those who search for the meaning of this physical universe and all life on it. Benedict saw monastic life as a search for God and that search is one that every religious person is involved in. Since so many in our day do so in pursuits that were once considered secular, such an education can help to integrate life, work, and belief. The monastic experience can be helpful in achieving such an integration.

The Benedictine tradition of doing things well, whether it be art, architecture, or music, says something to our Church in the United States today. The fascination with Gregorian chant, the desire to make retreats in a monastic atmosphere, the mystery of the Liturgy of the Hours well sung all these express a quest for the presence of the transcendent in daily life. The relationship between the aesthetic experience and the religious one was well known to the monks at Saint Vincent and remains a part of their heritage.

The story is not ended. There will be a constant need to reflect on what is good in American culture, what is consonant with the gospel and can be absorbed into the Catholic and Benedictine tradition, and what instead clashes and is harmful. By continuing to do such reflecting monks will also contribute to the ever-changing world they live in. Such contributions are not as visible as those remembered in history like copying manuscripts or teachings people how to farm, but they are no less needed in our day.

Rembert G. Weakland, O.S.B.