A life of deep faith and few words
Monks shed worldly distractions to serve God in ‘most direct way’
The monastery sits atop a hill in Mission, in the Fraser Valley east of Vancouver, surrounded by 80 hectares of lush countryside. Buffered by green lawns and woods, it seems far removed from everyday life.
The Westminster Abbey is only a couple of hours from Vancouver, but it may as well be in another world. The Catholic monastery is home to 32 monks whose daily life would cause most people to shake their heads.
The monks are not permitted to have possessions or money. No sex is allowed. A lot of the time, talking is not permitted either.
The monastery was built in the 1950s along with a seminary for young men preparing to enter the Catholic priesthood. About 60 young seminarians live in the dormitories on the property, which also includes a guest house, church and separate monks’ quarters.
The centrepiece of the scenic property is a 16-storey-high bell tower that looks down like a heavenly presence.
Father Alban Riley, 56, a German-born Canadian from Kingston, Ont., has experienced the rigours of a monk’s life since coming to the monastery 35 years ago. He is one of the faithful followers of St. Benedict, a sixthcentury Italian saint who preached poverty, chastity and obedience.
“Here we concentrate on the religious aspect of life more than the worldly aspects,” Riley says.
With the exception of special events such as the Pope’s recent election, the monks seldom watch television and may as well be living in the 19th century.
Knowing nothing about Keeping Up With The Kardashians doesn’t bother Riley, but it sets him apart from people he counsels — including students of the seminary and Catholics who visit the church for confession.
He admits his lifestyle puts him somewhat, “out of touch with the way people normally are. If you’re trying to minister to them, it’s a disadvantage,” he says.
The foundation of the monks’ existence is routine: up at 4:45 a.m., prayers, breakfast and teaching seminarians until lunchtime, followed by recreation, more teaching, more prayers, dinner, recreation and bed.
“At breakfast there is a spirit of silence. There is no talk at all. It’s not hard for me, because I don’t like to talk,” Riley says.
Recreation periods offer a little relief. Chatting is permitted, classical music plays on the radio and they play cards — bridge, canasta and cribbage. Gambling, of course, is not allowed.
Every night at 9 p.m., all talk ceases. The monks go to bed whenever they want to.
Riley doesn’t do any sightseeing and seldom goes into town. “We try to stay on the grounds as much as possible,” he says.
The monks take care of business themselves, performing routine chores such as electrical work, painting and plumbing.
They have 50 head of white Charolais beef cattle and a sizable vegetable garden planted with corn, squash, beets, carrots and beans.
Furnishings are plain and simple. Riley’s room has a desk, bed, sink and cupboard. Books and papers are stacked all over. There are no knick-knacks or personal items.
He wears a floor-length black cassock, with black pants, white shirt and shoes. He does a little running and walking on the grounds. He has no bank account or credit card. Government cheques are signed over to the monastery.
The monks have a two-week holiday every year at a camp in Lillooet, B.C. where they are allowed to sleep in and take a break.
Not having chosen a regular life, Riley admits to a few small regrets and what-ifs. He thinks about what it would be like to go out and buy an ice cream. He wonders if he might have accomplished something significant and “become famous” in another endeavour and what it would be like to share your life with someone.
Abstaining from sex is challenging.
“You have to really school your mind all the time. The sexual thing is a strong passion, but with the grace of God, it’s not a big thing,” he says.
The monks treat each other like family, but relations are more formal. Their ages range from 20s to 80s and their service ends when they pass away.
“Being a monk requires a continuous mental effort to live up to the vows,” Riley says. “It is worth doing, serving God in the most direct way. On a human level, it’s a balanced way of life and doing things that I enjoy (such as learning and teaching).
“I’ve tried to live a monastic life as best I can and contribute to making young men ready for the priesthood. I don’t look back on anything in particular. I just did my best.”