The OCSO General Chapter

The Jubilee of Benedictine Life

On the subject of AIM

Abbot Bernard Lorent Tayart, OSB

President of AIM

Presentation of the New Statutes of AIM

AIM was founded in 1961 as part of the wave of monastic foundations in the 1960s, 1970s and 1980s, which saw Western communities establishing themselves in mission countries. Its original name was ‘Aide à l’implantation monastique’. (Aid for monastic implantation). Subsequently, AIM stood for “Aide inter-monastères” (Inter-Monastic Aid), thus reflecting a new focus on solidarity as well as formation. From 1996 onwards, AIM has stood for Alliance InterMonastères or Alliance for International Monasticism, indicating that each monastery is autonomous and at the same time united with all the communities throughout the world that follow the Rule of Saint Benedict, whether in the Benedictine Order, the Confederation and the CIB, or in the two Cistercian Orders.

At the AIM annual Council meeting in Poblet in November 2024, and following on from the synod on synodality, we reflected on a new way of understanding the role of the AIM at the service of monastic communities. A commission has examined this issue and proposes new statutes, building on the old ones, but with a desire for better representation of the three monastic orders and the regions of the world. I would like to give you a brief presentation.

1. Nature and purpose

AIM aims to be an effective alliance and a common platform between the four representative bodies of the Benedictine world: the Benedictine Confederation, the CIB for Benedictine nuns; the Cistercian Order and the Order of Cistercians of the Strict Observance. AIM is the only organisation that brings together the Benedictine families, and we wish to demonstrate this.

AIM seeks to promote

– an understanding of monastic life through formation and the organisation of places of formation of whatever kind;

– monastic life within the context of society, the Church and other monastic traditions;

– concrete solidarity between monasteries for the human, cultural and religious development of monastic communities and the surrounding population.

2. Structures: synodal bodies

It is primarily at the structural level that the new statutes come into effect.

Moderating Council. At the head of the Alliance is now the Moderating Council, comprising the four leaders of the Benedictine Confederation, the CIB, the Cistercians and the Trappists. The president of the AIM is usually invited to their meetings.

The Assembly of AIM. This is the consultative body that links the AIM to the monastic families: here, information and ideas are shared, and developments and projects are proposed. Its members include: the four moderators; the president and secretary general of the AIM; the leadership of AIM-USA; the presidents of the Subiaco Cassinese, Sankt Ottilien, Annunciation, and Tutzing congregations; a delegate from the Cistercian Order; a delegate from the OCSO; an elected delegate from the regional organisations BEAO, ISBF, EMLA and a delegate from Africa; the Secretary General of DIM-MID; representatives of the AIM committees on projects, finance, communication and formation.

Committees. Four committees are established: finance, projects, communication and formation.

Other structures: the Benedictus Foundation and the possibility of establishing regional offices.

Key roles:

The President: head of the AIM. Appointed for a five-year term by the Moderating Council.

The Secretary-General: appointed by the President of the AIM for a five-year term following the consultation of the Moderating Council. He or she heads the secretariat, coordinates the committees, convenes meetings and draws up the agendas.

Office manager: running the office in Vanves.

Fundraising officer: fundraising.

Newsletter editor.

Website manager.

Formation co-ordinator

Regional representatives.

In memoriam

The Editorial Team

Father Martin Neyt (1939-2025)

Former President of AIM

Father Martin Neyt, a monk of Clerlande Monastery (Belgium, Congregation of the Annunciation), passed away during the night of 25 November 2025. A monk since 1963, he served as president of AIM from 1997 to 2013.

Father Martin was appointed President of AIM in 1997 at a time when the new Abbot Primate, Marcel Rooney, was restructuring AIM to better adapt it to the international service that this organisation is called upon to provide. His Secretary General was Father Jacques Côté (Saint-Benoît-du-Lac, Quebec), followed by Sister Gisela Happ (Abbey of Saint Hildegard, Eibingen, Germany, 2001–2016); Sister Placid Dolores Luz (Philippines) joined the Secretariat in 2005 (2005–2020).

The Secretariat grew and became an effective tool serving the foundations that were constantly springing up and developing. Under the leadership of Father Martin, AIM, by supporting the communities established across all continents, contributed in its own way to the emergence of regional, national and international meetings. At times it was the driving force behind these gatherings, encouraging reflection on shared values and sending experts or speakers; at other times it simply helped to fund these meetings, making them possible, or worked through formation and study centres that allowed nuns and monks from different continents to live together for a time. On two occasions, the AIM organised a trip for monks and nuns to Egypt to discover the Coptic monasteries and draw fresh inspiration for their own communities. AIM was keen to keep abreast of world events and to address the concerns of communities affected by natural disasters, internecine wars, and sudden economic and financial upheavals.

Father Martin had the joy of organising the 50th anniversary of AIM in 2011. He wished that it should take place at Ligugé Abbey, where the organisation had come into being during the meeting of Benedictine and Cistercian abbots to mark the 16th centenary of the monastery’s foundation by Saint Martin. It was a joyful time of gathering, sharing and reflection.

Throughout his time as president of AIM, Father Martin took a particular interest in the Bulletin. From the issues of the year 2000 onwards, the Bulletin featured in-depth articles on various monastic themes, written by different authors: lectio, governance, formation, as well as reports from monasteries and various news items relating to monastic life and the life of the Church and the world.

The AIM website was launched during Father Martin’s presidency. The John XXIII Centre, founded in 2005 at the monastery in Vanves and now closed, for many years provided accommodation for nuns pursuing their theological studies in Paris.

AIM therefore owes a great deal to Father Martin. On the occasion of AIM’s 50th anniversary, he wrote:

“‘Attach your boat to the vessels of your Fathers,’ repeated a Father of Egypt living in Gaza. The challenges of our time subject every monk or nun, every community, to grave trials, inherent to the human condition and often amplified by the media of our day: sexual deviance and paedophilia, violence that can go as far as genocide, the cruel gap between rich and poor, the export of young vocations to other continents, the temptation to use monasteries for self-fulfilment through studies or other activities, and the allure of religious status all add to the list of deadly sins. A way of life exists where one can distance oneself from the turmoil of the world, welcome others fairly and respectfully, and transcend narrow perspectives of social or cultural identity. The trials facing communities today are as formidable as those of the past, though very different. “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” Forming the Body of Christ together, and making mutual love a school of service to the Lord, are unmistakable signs. But the journey is long, and AIM, perhaps like the Good Samaritan, accompanies, discerns, takes risks, and constantly reminds us of the heart of the monastic tradition. The communities must earn their daily bread, seek guidance and advice from competent people, and work together to sell monastic products. There are many challenges to be met and new tasks to be accomplished: the long journey of self-discovery, the right relationship with others, projects on a human scale (rather than grandiose and costly ventures), welcoming the poor and the destitute, and supporting the development of the communities surrounding the monastery.

Thus, in humility, AIM was founded and continues to grow in an ever-changing world where each community does not choose its context, but seeks to shape its identity within it as best it can. It exists to contribute to the building of a new world. By fostering local connections, it takes to heart the opening words of the Rule of St Benedict: “Listen, my son, to the precepts…”. Listening remains paramount; it leads to the discovery of the other, it clears up ambiguities and misunderstandings in communication, it establishes genuine dialogue, and it aims, whilst respecting everyone’s autonomy, to create a Covenant.”

A contribution from a friend of Father Martin

François Neyt was born on 17 July 1939 at the hospital run by the Sisters of Charity in Jadotville, now known as Likasi (DRC). He spent a happy childhood there, surrounded by a loving family, with his parents, his older sister and his younger brother. Life there was simple, beautiful and, above all, free. He attended the Xaverian Brothers’ school throughout his school years; this school was adjacent to the parish run by the Benedictine missionaries of the Monastery of Saint-André in Bruges, commonly known as ‘Zeven Kerken’. When the family had to return to Belgium, he joined the Jesuit-run Saint-Michel College in Brussels, where he completed his secondary education.

His weeks were spent between study, sport (tennis, football, cycling) and Scouting every Saturday with Father Martin de Wilde, the Benedictine chaplain to the Jadotville Scouts and a teacher of religion at the Xaverian school.

Every Sunday, the family attended Mass celebrated by the Benedictines; François and his brother served as altar boys. The library was then open after the service, and François never failed to borrow numerous books for the week, as he was already passionate about literature and poetry at the time.

It was around the age of 15 that he first felt the call to serve the Lord. Rather reluctant at first, he said to the Lord: “It’s up to You to fight for it if You want me to become a monk.” Around the age of 18, his vocation was confirmed. A painful family situation, involving the loss of his sister who had been gravely ill, led him to decide to postpone his entry into the novitiate. He continued his studies in classical philology and, having obtained his degree and teaching qualification, was accepted as a novice at the Benedictine monastery in Bruges on 11 November 1961. There he was given the name Martin, in direct connection with the foundation in Ligugé of what would later become the AIM. Initially disappointed at not having been able to keep his first name as he had requested, it was only 50 years later, whilst celebrating the 50th anniversary of AIM in Ligugé as president of that very same Foundation, that he came to understand how the Lord had mysteriously accompanied him throughout his vocation.

Lectio divina

Dom Bernardus Peeters, OCSO

Abbot General

Sermon at the Opening of the General Chapter 2025

Readings for the Eucharist on 3 September:

Colossians 1:1-8 ; Luke 4:38-44

Brothers and sisters,

Those who called upon Jesus for help for Simon’s mother-in-law, who was bedridden with a high fever, were undoubtedly filled with hope. They had witnessed the lack of health in Peter’s mother-in-law. Hope for healing was apparently the only anchor left to them. But where should they cast this anchor?

They chose Jesus, probably after having tried the local doctor and many other types of healers. “Hope is not the conviction that something will turn out well, but the certainty that it is worth doing,” according to a contemporary theologian. They expected something from Jesus. He is worth casting the anchor of their hope into. And in that hope, they are not disappointed.

Those who called upon Jesus for help remain unnamed. Just like the friends of the paralysed man who was brought to Jesus by them. Those who called upon Jesus, inspired by hope. Brothers and sisters, is that not a wonderful description of the mission we have as contemplatives in the Church and in today’s world? (The Cistercian charism in the world today as a sign of hope.)

At this moment in the history of our Order, we are confronted with a great sense of vulnerability. Not only in the Order but also in our world: violence, famine, refugees, and the consequences of climate change. Do we bring this vulnerability to Jesus, or rather to “the hope which is stored up for us in heaven” (Col. 1:4)? Or do we allow ourselves to be tempted to deny reality, to look away? Or are we paralysed by sadness and fear? Perhaps we are gripped by the fear of dying? Or do we try with all our might to avoid the deeper questions raised by this vulnerability? Bringing our vulnerability to Jesus seems so ordinary and simple, yet how difficult it is!

“Hope is not the conviction that something will turn out well, but the certainty that it is worth doing.”

Is Jesus worth it for us to place our hope solely in Him and to bring our vulnerability to Him? Why would we want to do that? So that He can touch and heal our vulnerability, speak His redeeming word, but even more importantly: so that we may serve.

The mother-in-law stood up and served them. She brings Jesus to the people. Is that not our mission as contemplatives? Filled with hope, we bring the vulnerability of ourselves, of the Church and the world, to Jesus. In that encounter, a marvellous exchange takes place. Our vulnerability becomes His vulnerability, our hope becomes His hope. (Isn’t this the role of the eucharist in our monastic life?)

Brothers and sisters, may this General Chapter be an opportunity for all of us to bring our vulnerability to Jesus. May it be the occasion where we bring the vulnerability of others to Jesus because only in Him can we anchor our hope. May we journey together as pilgrims of hope towards Him. Then He will touch and raise us with His healing hands, so that we may once again be of service in Church and world.

May the General Chapter be like the sickroom of Simon’s mother-in-law. May we experience Jesus’ presence. He who in our weakness is our only hope. May our weakness become His weakness, and thereby our strength to live our mission in the Church and the world today as a sign of hope.

Perspectives

Dom Bernardus Peeters, OCSO

Abbot General

“The Love of sharing and the sharing of Love”[1]

Working together as the Cistercian sign of Hope in the Church and the world today.

Opening Conference

General Chapter of OCSO (3 Sept. 2025)

“None of us lives for oneself, and no one dies for oneself. For if we live, we live for the Lord, and if we die, we die for the Lord, so then, whether we live or die, we are the Lord’s.” (Rom 14; 7-8)

I recently read Emilia Jamroziak’s overview of the history of the Order. What struck me most was her conclusion: “The ability to adapt and respond to these very different social and economic conditions is what made the Cistercians so successful.”[2]

I see and experience this myself time and again during my visits to our communities around the world; in many monasteries, the capacity for adaptation is truly remarkable.

Some may frown at the word “adaptation” or even hold their breath. Nevertheless, I would like to recall the words of the recently deceased Prof. David N. Bell (1943-2025):

“Adaptation is not necessarily decadence, though if the prurient wish to hunt for examples of decadence, they will undoubtedly find them.”[3]

Today, however, I would like to focus not on adaptability, but on another sign of Hope which, particularly in our current era, poses a distinct challenge to how we live out our Cistercian charism within both the Church and the wider world. This sign of Hope often demands a spirit of flexibility – not only from individual monks and nuns, but also from superiors, communities, Regional Meetings, the Abbot General, and even the General Chapter.

I am referring to collaboration as a sign of Hope. When I speak of this as a sign of Hope in our profoundly polarised Church and world, I do so because the tendency for individuals and communities to turn inwards and close themselves off is so prevalent.[4] I am deeply convinced that it is only through authentic collaboration that our entire Order can respond meaningfully to the realities we face today. In doing so, we are not merely able to deepen our living out of our vocation, but also to become a visible sign of Hope – both within the Church, in our own Order, and in society at large. As Pope Francis wrote in Fratelli tutti:

“Let us dream, then, as a single human family, as fellow travellers of the same journey, children of the same earth which is our common home, each with the richness of his or her own faith and convictions, each with his or her own voice, all brothers and sisters!”.[5]

In this opening conference, I would like to show that collaboration is the Cistercian sign of Hope for our times and that the celebration of the General Chapter is an excellent opportunity to make this Hope visible.

Is the Order sick or in crisis?

During my travels and visits to various communities, I regularly meet brothers and sisters who ask me questions about the state of the Order. Questions such as: Is the Order disappearing? Is the Order in crisis? Is the Order sick? Where is the Order heading? When I ask them why they think so, I often hear answers such as there are hardly any vocations left in many places, more monasteries are closing, many brothers and sisters are leaving the Order, and there are numerous scandals. Although these questions and concerns may be justified, I nevertheless have difficulty with this attitude. Not because I want to deny reality, but precisely because this way of thinking makes it clear why the Order is in crisis and why it is sick.

The brothers and sisters who think this way, and yes, there are some of us here in this room, approach the Order as if they themselves are not part of it. They place themselves at a comfortable distance, from which they critically judge the Order, other communities, each other or individual monks/nuns without involving themselves. It becomes even more distressing when people start pointing fingers. It seems as if all difficulties are exclusively outside one’s own community or one’s own monastic and personal life.

What particularly bothers me about this way of thinking is that people always blame others and forget to look critically at themselves. In doing so, they place themselves above others. Such an attitude has no place in a Christian community. Pope Francis reminded it to us of many times: when you point a finger at someone else, three fingers point back at you. The Holy Scriptures urge us to “consider others better than yourselves” (Phil. 2:3). In Chapter 72 of the Rule, St. Benedict emphasises the good zeal that should characterise us: “They should anticipate one another in honour (Rom. 12:10); most patiently endure one another’s infirmities, whether of body or of character; vie in paying obedience one to another – no one following what he considers useful for himself, but rather what benefits another – ; tender the charity of brotherhood chastely.”[6]. In this light, the words of St. Paul are all the more striking: “When one part suffers, all parts suffer with it”. (1 Co 12:26). Brothers and sisters who reason in this way do not realise that they are part of that one body of the Church, to which the Order also belongs, to which every community, every individual monk or nun belongs. It is therefore valuable to quote St. Paul’s words here in full:

‘As a body is one though it has many parts, and all the parts of the body, though many, are one body, so also Christ. For in one Spirit we were all baptized into one body, whether Jews or Greeks, slaves or free persons, and we were all given to drink of one Spirit. Now the body is not a single part, but many. If a foot should say, “Because I am not a hand I do not belong to the body,” it does not for this reason belong any less to the body. Or if an ear should say, “Because I am not an eye I do not belong to the body,” it does not for this reason belong any less to the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would the hearing be? If the whole body were hearing, where would the sense of smell be? But as it is, God placed the parts, each one of them, in the body as he intended. If they were all one part, where would the body be? But as it is, there are many parts, yet one body. The eye cannot say to the hand, “I do not need you,” nor again the head to the feet, “I do not need you.” Indeed, the parts of the body that seem to be weaker are all the more necessary.’ (1 Co 12:12-22)

We are all part of the same body, whether that is the Order as a whole, our own community, or each of us individually. How can I place myself outside of that and think that I am more than someone else? How can I claim that I don’t need others, or say that I want nothing to do with them? Isn’t that precisely the attitude of the Pharisee in the temple, while Jesus and St. Benedict call us to follow the humility of the tax collector?

Yes, I truly believe that the Order is sick and that all communities are suffering from this disease. Yes, I am convinced that all of us, not least myself, are affected by this disease. Fortunately! For Jesus did not come for the healthy or the righteous, but for the sick and sinners who need a physician.[7] The problem we suffer from revolves around constantly judging and condemning ourselves and each other, thereby placing ourselves outside, above or separate from others, the community or even the Order. Polarisation is constantly lurking when we remain stuck in our self-imposed closed worldview.

What we see everywhere today, both in society and in the Church, is that it has become quite normal to blame others. Right-wing politicians point to the left as the cause of problems, while left-wing politicians do the same towards the right. Politicians in the middle blame both the left and the right. In the South, people point to the North, and in the North, people think that the South is incapable of anything. We always keep ourselves outside the situation or the issue so that we do not have to take responsibility. It is always the other who is the problem. This worldly mentality has also crept into the Church, the Order and our communities and has unfortunately become very common.

The real problem is not that there are too few vocations in some parts of the world, or that brothers and sisters in certain communities do not keep their vows. The problem is that all of us, without exception, have been affected by a worldly mentality in which things like self-fulfilment, individual freedom and the assertion of rights have been elevated to the status of idols. You can only come to this conclusion if you dare to look honestly at your own heart, at your community and at the Order, and place yourself back at the centre of the Church. Love can only flourish there – not on the sidelines, not outside, and not above. As Thomas Merton aptly wrote:

“Love begins by allowing those we love to be themselves; not trying to make them into versions that fit our own image.”[8]

All over the world, I see how individual brothers and sisters, but also communities and Regions, are increasingly inclined to focus on themselves, their own group or their own Region, closing themselves off from others and retreating into themselves. This creates the risk that others are no longer considered important, are portrayed as inferior, or even as “not right in their doctrine”. I notice that personal freedom has sometimes become so important that an essential monastic value such as obedience is mainly experienced as a limitation, not only for the individual, but also for the autonomy of a community or even a Region. Increasingly often, I see brothers and sisters, communities and Regions claiming their rights, often at the expense of others, and as if there were only rights and no duties.

Perhaps the greatest threat is that we are becoming indifferent to one another and to the heart of the Gospel: giving one’s life out of love. It is a worldly mentality that has slowly taken root in our hearts, our communities, our Regions and our Order. Of course, individual freedom, self-development and having rights are good things in themselves, but if we make them absolute values and idolise them, we are doing exactly what the world does and we no longer distinguish ourselves as Christians, as monks and nuns. The same applies to things like power, money and sexuality. It is precisely by taking our vows that we want to make a different voice heard, to make a difference based on the Gospel and the example of Jesus. But if we turn these good things into idols, the “salt” loses its power (Mt 5:13) and as a community we are worthless.

Pope Leo XIV recently addressed a million young people gathered in Rome:

“We too, dear friends, are made this way, we are made for this. We are not made for a life where everything is taken for granted and static, but for an existence that is constantly renewed through gift of self in love.” He added: “This is why we continually aspire to something “more” that no created reality can give us; we feel a deep and burning thirst that no drink in this world can satisfy.”[9]

Do we really experience this desire for “more”? Do young people today who hunger and thirst for this “more” find a place in our communities? Yes, the Order is indeed sick! And yes, the Order is truly in crisis, because you and I are sick, because you and I, ourselves are in crisis, because we are all influenced by the worldly spirit.

And even if, God forbid, I thought that I was not affected by this worldly mentality, I would still be sick or in crisis, because I am part of the whole – I am sick together with the Church, in crisis together with the Order.

The medicine

During my visits to various communities, I am struck time and time again that, despite illness and crisis, there is much that is good and that there are brothers, sisters and communities throughout our Order who are true sources of Hope. They prove that there really is a remedy for the worldly spirit of closing oneself off in one’s own world and polarisation: working together. But what does “working together” mean?

Working together is intrinsically linked to the Cistercian charism. The Carta Caritatis laid the foundations for cooperation between the different communities, because our predecessors knew from their own experience that the tendency to dominate and the power relations between master and subject take root more quickly than the evangelical call to loving service to one another. Instead of a hierarchical or monarchical model, the Cistercians consciously chose cooperation, in which love is the starting point for change and renewal.[10] Only through love, made visible in concrete cooperation, could the monk/nun, the community and the Order continually reform and renew themselves.

The General Chapter repeatedly resorted to cooperation as a means of promoting renewal and change within the Order. Think of structures such as filiation/paternity, Father Immediate and regular visitations. Later, cooperation was also encouraged by recognising congregations in cooperation with the General Chapter, especially in times of crisis, so that there was room for renewal in specific situations. The General Chapter proved particularly wise in always applying the medicine of cooperation in a tailored manner so that no closed groups formed, creating a “we” in opposition to the others.

Time and time again, the General Chapter managed to respond to local needs by constantly adapting its approach to cooperation. During the nineteenth century, this open attitude gradually disappeared because of a desire for uniformity. In many cases, this uniformity had a stifling effect. Fortunately, a healthy unity in diversity was restored in 1969 with the Statute for Unity and Pluralism. Nevertheless, it remains a task for all of us to internalise the spirit of that Statute more deeply. This is precisely where Pope Francis’ encyclical Fratelli tutti can help us.

“How much our human family still has to learn about living together in harmony and peace, without everyone having to be the same!”[11]

Working together within the body of Christ

Working together is not just an activity, but is, above all, taking your place as a baptised member of the body of Christ, to which you yourself, your community, your Region and the Order belong, in a spirit of responsibility and freedom.

As the Catechism of the Catholic Church states (n. 1267): ‘Baptism makes us members of the Body of Christ: “Therefore... we are members one of another.” (Eph. 4:25) Baptism incorporates us into the Church. From the baptismal fonts is born the one People of God of the New Covenant, which transcends all the natural or human limits of nations, cultures, races, and sexes: “For by one Spirit we were all baptised into one body” (1 Cor 12:13).

Through baptism, we become participants in the loving cooperation of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Jesus says in John 14:10: “It is the Father who, remaining in me, does his work.” And further: “Believe me: I am in the Father and the Father is in me. Or believe it because of the works themselves. Truly, truly, I say to you, whoever believes in me will also do the works that I do. Yes, he will do even greater works than these, because I am going to the Father.” (John 14:11-12) Cooperation brings us to the heart of the Triune God and his “incomprehensible charity”, a generosity that wants to love and be loved infinitely, to share everything and to receive everything.[12] As a Cistercian, one inevitably comes to Treatise XV by Baldwin of Ford (1125-1190) on the cenobitic life. For him, “sharing is the basis of the common life”, both by nature, in sin and grace, and in glory.[13] This Cistercian text provides us with a remedy for the worldly spirit of polarisation caused by the idolisation of self-development, individual freedom and the sole pursuit of rights.

Baldwin speaks of “the love of sharing and the sharing of love.”[14] Although this sounds poetic and his reference to the Trinity, angelic choirs, apostles and the first Christian community may be idealistic, in a cenobitic community it is all about sharing love and the sharing of love – precisely in everyday life, in the little things.

What strikes me particularly in Baldwin’s text is his theological explanation of the sharing of grace. Every baptised person, therefore, every monk or nun, every community and the entire Order, has received grace not to keep for themselves, but to share. Instead of wanting to keep everything for oneself, dominate or criticise, this vision invites us to see the good in others and discover what their contribution to my life can be, and vice versa. That contribution is not our merit, but pure grace. It is an exchange in the service of the body – the community, the Church.

Baldwin writes: “If you pay attention, you will see how the qualities that belong to each member individually serve the common good. The eye does not look only for itself but guides our feet in their steps and our hands in their work. The mouth does not eat only for itself, nor does the stomach digest only for itself, but they perform a joint work; and what the whole body needs to feed itself, to satisfy its needs and help it grow, that is what is taken in by the mouth and digested by the stomach. If any part of the body is hurt, does not the tongue suffer with it? As if it were itself hurt, it takes on the voice of the one who suffers and cries out to the one who inflicted the wound: ‘Why do you hurt me?’.”[15]

He concludes:

“Beloved brothers in Christ, where do these examples lead us? Is it not to mutual patience, mutual humility, mutual love? Has God not written a law of love in us that can teach us about ourselves? If He who gave us the law would also give us His blessing, and feed us in the innocence of our hearts, and guide us with a skilful hand on the path of peace (Ps 78:72), then we would preserve unity of spirit in the bond of peace, and love for God in love for our neighbour. When we love God with one mind and one heart in accordance with the purity of our profession, the love of God is undoubtedly poured into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, and the Spirit of God brings us all to life as if we were one body, so that none of us lives for ourselves, but for God; and so that we may all live together in unity of spirit through the one spirit who dwells in us.”[16]

This theological principle, which is at the heart of the belief in the Communio sanctorum, can also be found in recent Church documents on synodality. The instrumentum laboris of the second session of the Synod on Synodality refers to the principle of “the exchange of gifts”. The Synod places this exchange of grace at the heart of the synodal Church:

“Walking together as baptised persons in the diversity of charisms, vocations and ministries, as well as in the exchange of gifts between Churches, is an important sacramental sign for today’s world, which, on the one hand, experiences increasingly intense forms of interconnectedness, and on the other is immersed in a mercantile culture that marginalises gratuitousness.”[17].

Furthermore, the authors of the document Hope that gifts will be shared concretely in solidarity between the different churches, without any desire for domination:

“The Episcopal Conferences Hope that goods will be shared in a spirit of solidarity between the Churches that make up the one and unique Catholic Church, without any desire for domination or claim to superiority. The existence of rich Churches and Churches that live in great hardship is a scandal. It is therefore suggested that arrangements be made to promote mutual ties and form support networks, including in the context of groupings of Churches. All the local Churches receive and give in the communion of the one Church. There are Churches that need the support of financial and material resources; others that are enriched by the witness of living faith and loving service to the poorest; still others need, above all, the help of evangelisers who devote their lives to communicating the Gospel to other peoples. In particular, the generosity of priests, deacons, consecrated men and women, lay men and women engaged in the mission ad gentes is recognised and solicited.”[18]

This underlines that the exchange of gifts is not an abstract ideal but very concrete, as Saint John Paul II emphasised in Ut unum sint: “Dialogue is not only an exchange of ideas. In some way it is always an ‘exchange of gifts’.”[19]

Synodality is therefore more than making the Church or the Order more democratic. Synodality means that as Christians, as a community, as an Order, we take our baptism seriously and, despite our vulnerability (sins), see the grace and gifts that God has given us and which we, in turn, give to one another across the boundaries of race, gender, culture, etc. Only from this can synodality arise, and not from (Church) political agendas or populism. This is precisely where the challenge of synodality lies for our Order, and not so much in changing structures, although that will also be necessary!

Conclusion

Brothers and sisters, as I said earlier, the Order is sick, but in that vulnerability, I see many forms of collaboration within and between communities. A collaboration that is an exchange of grace and gifts, amid a vulnerable reality, and therefore a sign of Hope. It is precisely this cooperation, rooted in our baptism, that is the Hopeful sign that we as Cistercians can give in a closed worldview and a polarised Church and world.

Like Baldwin’s treatise, this seems lofty and poetic. However, it is very concrete. I understand very well the reaction of Sister Maria Gonzales of Crozet, who wrote after a first reading of Baldwin’s text: “The text is like trying to fix a faucet with a wrench in one hand and a book of poetry in the other.”[20]. But with her, I increasingly see the value and usefulness of this concept of sharing grace and the grace of sharing as the basis of our common life, also at the level of the Order.

It requires a conversion on our part. A conversion from “I” to “we,” or as Father Chukwuka John Ife, a monk of Awhum, writes in his book Authentic Conversion: “Conversion is a radical alteration of a person’s life as it changes from self, ego-centric to God, and going out from self to the service of others.”[21] Without this conversion, we cannot see these signs of Hope.

I see that sign of Hope where communities work together in formation, where sisters help brothers in formation. I see it, for example, in Tre Fontane and Aque Salvie, where brothers and sisters together bear witness to Cistercian life in the heart of the eternal city. I see Hope in Ireland where three communities came together in one single community. I see Hope in western France, where communities are trying to shape their economies together. I see Hope in Mokoto, where despite the violence, doors are opening to thousands of refugees and cooperation makes monastic hospitality a sign of Hope. I see that sign of Hope in our monasteries in Syria, Israel or anywhere else amid violence. I see signs of Hope where superiors from different cultures help communities in difficulty. I see Hope because more communities are open to a multicultural composition. In the United States, Japan and Spain, too, I see cautious attempts at cooperation between communities. If you look closely and, above all, dare to look, you will see signs of Hope everywhere.

We can make this even more concrete by paying attention to this exchange of gifts during the General Chapter when studying the House Reports. By looking beyond our own interests in appointments, elections, etc. By looking first at ourselves and then at others in difficult situations and helping each other instead of condemning or avoiding each other. By being mindful of healthy differences. By being truly open and committed to the exchange of gifts between the different worlds and cultures that make up the Order and this General Chapter. Let this General Chapter help us to share through love and to love sharing, so that it becomes an exercise in Charity and a growth in our ongoing conversion to see the signs of Hope that God gives us today in the midst of our vulnerability.

Is the Order sick? Yes, and it must remain so, because only in this way do we realise that we need each other, that we need the gifts and graces of others to live. St. Bernard calls us to remain pilgrims of Hope under the shadow of the Most High.[22]. That pilgrimage is sometimes difficult, but every pilgrim knows that you need your fellow pilgrims to keep the flame of Hope burning. Therefore, let us work together, very concretely in our communities, between our communities and especially here in the General Chapter. Let no one say, “I don’t matter” or “you don’t matter.” Everyone has a gift, a grace, for the building up of the whole. Discover that gift! Discover that grace!

[1] Baudouin de Ford, Spiritual Tractates, volume two, Cistercian Fathers Series, 41, Kalamazoo, 1986, p. 159.

[2] E. Jamroziak, L’Ordre Cistercien dans l’Europe médiévale. 1090-1500. Routledge, 2013.

[3] David Bell, Printed books in English Cistercian Monasteries, Citeaux : Commentarii Cistercienses 53 (2002) p. 138.

[4] Pour une description détaillée de cette réalité, voir le pape François, Fratelli tutti, 9-55.

[5] Pape François, Fratelli tutti, 8.

[6] RB 72, 4-8.

[7] « Ce ne sont pas les gens bien portants qui ont besoin du médecin, mais [1] Baldwin of Ford, Spiritual Tractates, volume two, Cistercian Fathers Series, 41, Kalamazoo, 1986, p. 159.

[2] E. Jamroziak, The Cistercian Order in Medieval Europe. 1090-1500. Routledge, 2013.

[3] David Bell, Printed books in English Cistercian Monasteries, Cîteaux: Commentarii Cistercienses 53 (2002) p. 138.

[4] For a detailed description of this reality, see Pope Francis, Fratelli tutti, 9-55.

[5] Pope François, Fratelli tutti, 8.

[6] RB 72, 4-8.

[7] “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners.” Mark 2:17.

[8] Thomas Merton, No man is an island, Harcourt Brace, New York, 1955. p. 149.

[9] Pope Leo XIV, Homily 3 August 2025.

[10] Cf. Monika Dihsmaier, Entscheidungsfindung und die versionen der Carta Caritatis, in : E. Delaissé, La Charte de charité 1119-2019. Un document pour préserver l’unité entre les communautés. Paris, 2020, pp. 69-109.

[11] Pope François, Fratelli Tutti, 100.

[12] Cf. https://cistercian-mentors.webnode.es/materials/baldwin/?utm_source

[13] Baldwin of Ford, Spiritual Tractates, volume two, Cistercian Fathers Series, 41, Kalamazoo, 1986, p. 165.

[14] Ibid., 159.

[15] Idem.

[16] Ibid., p. 179.

[17] “Instrumentum laboris” for the Second Session of the 16th Ordinary General Assembly of the Synod of Bishops (October 2024), no. 42.

[18] Ibid., nos 44-45.

[19] Saint Jean-Paul II, Ut unum sint, 28.

[20] https://cistercian-mentors.webnode.es/materials/baldwin/

[21] Ife, Chukwuka John ocso, Authentic Conversion, p. 55-56.

[22] Cf. Bernard de Clairvaux, Sermons on Psalm 90(91).

Perspectives

Mother Elizabeth Mary Mann, OCBE

Prioress General of the Bernardine Cistercians of Esquermes

Intervention on the Cistercian charism

at the OCSO General Chapter

It is a great joy and a privilege to be here among you all. Thank you for your kind invitation. Thank you for your warm, generous welcome yesterday evening. On a personal level it is lovely to see so many friends; on a more ‘official’ level, it is humbling to be welcomed among you as a sister in Christ.

And, of the many elements of our Cistercian charism that I see as a sign of hope for our world of today, I have chosen to share precisely on that of ‘welcome’, a welcome that is rooted in Christ, a welcome nourished by our vow of stability, a welcome which is the fruit of, our vow of stability, a welcome that a gratuitous, genuine and generous.

Our stability makes us ‘pilgrims with roots’ in this Jubilee year. (Monastic Practices: Charles Cummings).

Our Constitutions read “Monastic stability is for us a way of responding to the unshakeable fidelity of God by our own fidelity, wherever He wants us to seek Him. ‘He who calls us is faithful.’” (Const 12) I like to think of this as ‘simply being there for God’. Our monastic stability helps us to find our place and our peace in God, to ‘belong’ to Him. “Remain in me, as I in you” (John 15:4)

Thomas Merton stressed the communal aspects of the vow of stability when he wrote:

“The real secret of monastic stability is the total acceptance of God’s plan by which the monk/nun realises him/herself to be inserted into the mystery of Christ through this particular family and no other. It is the definitive acceptance of his communion, in time and in eternity, with these particular brothers/sisters chosen for him by God… it is the glad realisation of the fact that all who are called together will work out their salvation in common, will help one another to find God more easily, and indeed, that we have been destined from all eternity to bring one another closer to Him by our love, our patience, our forbearance and our efforts at mutual understanding”. (The Monastic Journey)

St Bernard says that ‘when the beauty and brightness has filled the inmost part of the heart, it must become outwardly visible’ (Songs of Songs 85:11). What are the outwardly visible signs of our stability? Among other, perhaps more obvious, signs I believe that our stability becomes outwardly visible in the quality of our welcome. Stability roots us in God, in God who is unchanging, ever faithful, our rock, our strength. Our vow of stability secures our feet in His unconditional and steadfast love, freeing our hearts and our arms to welcome. Like “the tree” in Psalm 1, “planted beside the flowing water, that yields its fruit in due season and whose leaves shall never fail”, the sap rises up from our rootedness in God and gives openness, gentleness, kindness and energy to our welcome.

Welcoming is a two-way dynamic process: we extend welcome and we receive welcome. Jesus’ whole ministry was one of welcome. He welcomed the little children (Mk 10: 13-16), He welcomed the tax collectors to His table (Mt 9: 10-13), He welcomed the dying thief in to paradise (Lk 23: 39-43)… Jesus Himself was welcomed: into the boat when the disciples were so terrified of the storm (Mk 6: 45-57), He was welcomed into the house of Zacchaeus (Lk 19: 1-10), into the home of Mary, Martha and Lazarus (Lk 10: 38-42).

Our monastic living should be characteristically marked by an attitude of welcome: an attitude that is freeing, liberating, not possessive, suspicious or dominating, an attitude which opens us to the grace of the moment, rather than closing us in on ourselves, an attitude that constructs rather than destroys, one that encourages and gives life rather than suffocates and kills, one of acceptance, not rejection, a selfless, not selfish, way of living.

Each day, through our lectio, we place ourselves before God to welcome His Word. Dom André Louf wrote that the “welcome of the Word is the key to a monk [or nun]’s existence”. Like Our Lady, our vocation is to cultivate “hearts pregnant with the Word” (cf Blessed Guerric). In our celebration of the Eucharist, we welcome the sacramental presence of Christ. In desiring that “nothing shall be preferred to the Work of God” (RB 43,3), we welcome the service of prayer and praise entrusted to us by the Church and through the contemplative orientation of our busy lives, we consciously welcome of the presence of the Lord, keeping ourselves alert for the murmurings of His Spirit.

We welcome ourselves, made in the image and likeness of God, our gifts, our personalities, our limits, our fears. We welcome each day the beauty of our vocation.

We welcome each other: building up our communities in that “love which is an active hope of what the other can become with the help of our fraternal support” (Const 59), and we allow others to welcome us. We are all encouraged by a smile, a gentle response, a gesture of gratuitous kindness. “Here we are, you and I, and I hope a third, Christ, in our midst”, wrote St Aelred (Spiritual Friendship).

We welcome humbly the challenges of the situations of our communities and Orders. Our own Constitutions remind us that “Stability requires of each sister a deep attachment to the Order and to her community. She takes upon herself ‘the qualities and deficiencies, the needs and aspirations, the present reality and the future evolution’ of both”. (Const 11)… and so we welcome, usually not without an inner struggle, creative initiatives and responses regarding our futures, and are ready to take our part in these. We welcome change, rather than feeling its threat. For, in the words of St John Henry Newman ‘to live is to change’. We trust that, in living our vow of conversion to the full, the Spirit will “transform us more and more into the likeness of the Risen Christ” (Const 8).

We welcome the needs of our dioceses, of the universal Church and of our troubled world, in our intercessory prayer.

We welcome the events of each day in faith, the ups and downs of our lives, with a trustful serenity, confident of God’s promise repeated throughout the Scriptures: ‘Do not be afraid, I am with you’.

We welcome those who are drawn to our monasteries, welcoming the burdens they carry, sharing the joys, complexities, confusions and difficulties of their lives.

The increasing number of people visiting our monasteries want to tap into something unchanging amid the uncertainty, restlessness, worry and turmoil that is their daily experience of the world today. In coming to our monasteries, they seek what is constant and sure, a lifestyle that has weathered the centuries, a landscape that is unchanging, a place that exudes beauty by its very simplicity. They want to tap into the timelessness of our monastic life and for a moment to lay aside the pressures and stresses of their everyday lives, they long for a moment to ‘breathe’, a time just to ‘be’.

St Benedict was well aware that guests are never lacking in the monastery, insisting that all be welcomed with ‘warm hearted courtesy, respect and deference’. His carefully crafted Chapter 53 confirms that the importance of ‘welcome’ on the community level.

I would like to share two moments of ‘welcome’ in our own communities that touched me deeply this year.

The first was in late January for our community of Goma in the eastern part of the Democratic Republic of the Congo. After the days of intense warfare, the population dared to begin to return cautiously to the streets again, and there were our sisters, all of them there ready to welcome everyone back to Sunday Mass. For many, this was a deeply emotional moment.

The second was in our community in France. One evening we welcomed a family in distress to the celebration of Mass integrated into Vespers. Their 15-year son, without any warning signs, had taken his life that morning. During the hour that followed, wave after wave of young people, many accompanied by a parent or older sibling, flooded into our Church as the news of the Mass circulated on social media. Their shock was palpable, many in tears, and they stayed for well over an hour afterwards just to be together, trying to comfort each other and to make sense of what had happened. Why did they come? Somehow, the presence of the monastic community made us in their eyes a safe place to come. Our prayerful and silent welcome enabled them to grieve together in a place unknown but comfortable.

You will have your own similar such experiences. Our stability, our ‘simply being there’, draws people, welcomes people, creates a community around the monastic community, engenders a sense of belonging, creates a space where others can feel ‘at home’. We have many volunteers who want to experience just a little something of the essence of our monastic life, to participate…..and who think that it is a privilege to wash the community car, to help with the ironing, to clear the garden of stinging nettles….

Last week I was chatting to a friend who has been bringing groups to one of our communities in England for over 20 years. When I asked her what element of the Cistercian charism is a sign of hope in today’s world, she instantly said ‘it’s your stability and welcome’! Encouraged, as I was already beginning to prepare this sharing, I asked her to write a couple of sentences. I share them with you:

“A central charism of the Cistercians is stability, ‘presence’. In a world in which many are suffering from displacement, fractured upbringings, addictions, endless change, the concept of ‘stability’ is a much needed, counter-cultural experience and a healing space for people to step into. This stability nurtures a beautiful hospitality and is incarnated and felt, when they enter the space of a monastery and are practically received with kindness, welcome, and ‘homeliness’. People instantly know when they are welcome, and they can recognise kindness immediately. The effects of this on human beings are profound in a very beautiful ordinary way; nurturing relaxation and a sense of being at ease. Virtue language is talked of less and less in today’s society, but these key virtues embodied and lived, in the Cistercian experience, help to soften and ease, and are vital in today’s world”. (DW)

Offering welcome, we give. In being welcomed, we receive. Giving and receiving, welcoming and being welcomed, this is the dynamic that builds relations and makes us brothers and sisters in the Body of Christ. Welcome demands openness, generosity, listening, humility, trust; it promotes unity, peace, understanding, communion, all gifts that our world so desperately needs.

Perhaps I could conclude with a word of thanks….for the welcome that unites your brothers at Mokoto and your sisters at La Clarté Dieu, with our sisters at Goma, especially these last years with all the insecurity and instability from that the region is suffering.

Thank you, too, to the regions of CNE/CAN and of the Isles for your welcome to our sisters (and to me!) at your regional meetings, pastoral sharings, celebrations… it is always very good to be together.

Thank you to Dom Bernardus and to the members of the Generalate for your support and friendship.

I shall leave the last words to St Paul, taken from Chapter 15 of his letter to the Romans:

“Accept (welcome) one another, then, for the sake of God’s glory, as Christ accepted you. (v. 7)… May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in your faith, so that in the power of the Holy Spirit you may be rich in hope” (v. 13).

Perspectives

Mother Noëlla Ghijs

Prioress General of the Bernardines of Oudenaarde

Intervention on the Cistercian charism at the OCSO General Chapter

Thank you very much for the grace of spending a little time among you and for your invitation to share some of our life and experiences with you.

In his talks to men and women religious, Pope Francis often raised the call to “frequent the future“. Not to stop at accepting reality as it is, nor to lock oneself into nostalgia for the past but, on the contrary, to dare to “frequent the future”. This is in itself an act of faith and hope.

However, that does not prevent us from having questions on this subject. Our trust and faith in God’s Spirit is permeated with uncertainty, and sometimes fear, and so, the question arises whether we have reliable guides to “frequent the future”.

In a meeting at the level of our two provincial councils – the Flemish/Belgian Province and the African Province – in May 2024 in Rwanda, our conviction that our charism will guide us into the future was confirmed.

Several years ago, we summed up our charism, through which we are able to participate in the Cistercian charism, in this little phrase: “To seek God and to welcome man, the image of God”. How can we embody this today with an eye to the future? I will try to answer it in two points.

1. Our charism shows us the way because it takes us back to the roots of our Bernardine religious life. It sends us back to the essence of our life, what we aspire to, to what calls us and engages us.

– he search for God through listening to the Word, liturgy, personal meditation, and community prayer. It is this monastic undercurrent that marks our life and to which we try to bear witness in the very secularized Belgian, in the midst of a multitude of sects in Rwanda, and in the Muslim societies of Chad and Burkina.

– Even though we are experiencing the significant aging of our sisters, we continue to consciously choose to live our Christian faith in communion with other Christians. It is a commitment that enlivens our own Christian and religious life. We are enabled to live ‘a fraternity’, a ‘we’ that enriches us with those who meet us in faith (e.g. at Sunday Mass). The words of St. Augustine, quoted by Pope Leo

– “With you I am a Christian”, are so significant in the concrete contexts of our societies.

The search for God, with all its richness of forms and moments, calls us to this new life, which entered our human history in Jesus, the Risen Christ. It is anchored in hope and directs us towards the beyond of today, since it is He himself, the triune God, who is the future we frequent, and He is the first to offer us this future.

2. The second part of our charism: “Welcoming man, the image of God”. Hospitality is at the origin of our congregation. Towards the end of the 12th century, outside the city walls of Oudenaarde in Flanders, a small group of men and women welcomed pilgrims, and poor people who were not able to enter the city, especially at night. Very quickly, this turned into a hospital, where poor patients were treated. This has been the case for centuries. Last year marked 800 years since this small community received its first rule of life – 1224 – in which the Bishop of Tournai expressed his appreciation for the way we, and I quote, “served God and the poor”.

Welcoming the other, recognizing that he/she is created in the image of God, refers us to the deepest meaning of communion: something that we try to live both in community and in relationship with so many other people. A communion with an open heart, with open eyes, with open doors. Our present fragility, especially in our communities in Flanders, teaches us to live more attentively towards one another, with more listening and more closeness. If mutual aid is necessary, it also creates an opportunity for meeting, for an exchange of looks and hands. Fragility then becomes a path towards personal and community conversion, a pilgrimage of hope from the ‘I’ to the ‘we’.

Welcoming the other takes different forms, coloured by different situations. Often, these are the people we meet and who confide in us about their suffering. They need to be listened to; they ask us for a prayer; they are struck when we remember their pain. We call it “the apostolate of encounter”, almost invisible, but beneficial for those who benefit from it.

Welcoming others is now called “inclusion”, respect, cooperation, integration, solidarity, fraternity. In the societies we live in, these are values we need to defend and to practice. Do we accept a veiled Muslim woman coming to work for us? Are we creating space in our schools for non-native children? How do we integrate the multicultural world to which we belong? One of our communities in Rwanda has been organizing inclusive education for several years, which welcomes children with disabilities. The presence of a deaf-mute child in the class invites the other students to learn sign language. In southern Chad, our Rwandan sisters run a school for girls, who – in this environment and culture – are often excluded from education. In Oudenaarde, we are committed to welcoming Indian women who come to complete their nursing studies.

By promoting inclusion, we contribute to the process of humanization, as the mystery of the Incarnation shows us the way. The life of Jesus, his deeds and his words, testify that true love is not limited by the barriers that we men erect out of self-interest or fear of the other. Hope connects us to the plan of our God-Creator, who is the first to welcome us and come to meet us. Created in His image, it is our duty to allow ourselves to be transformed into this image, as Jesus incarnated Him. To let ourselves be transformed – by living together in the ‘school of charity’, respecting the otherness of the other as the source of an enriched ‘we’.

The acceptance of the other – to conclude – is concretized in the interculturality and communion that we want to safeguard and promote within the congregation. Pope Francis, in his encyclical Fratelli tutti, calls interculturality “a prophecy for our time.” We ask ourselves: how can we continue to concretize this interculturality/communion now that there is only one Flemish sister in Rwanda (almost 100 years old)? How can this be done, in mutual respect, also within Africa, without one group dominating the other? The same goes for our communities in Flanders: to promote the ‘we’ of communion and mutual respect, without one age group dominating another.

Our charism will show us the way; the Cistercian charism will show us the way, insisting on the ‘we’ – of encounter, consultation and sharing – calling us to personal, communal, and even congregational conversion. We walk this journey together, in the here and now, but it is traced before us as ‘a path of hope’, in the faith that the Holy Spirit will guide us and help us to ‘frequent the future’. May the exhortation of St. Paul in his letter to the Ephesians, “Strive to keep the unity of the spirit in the bond of peace.” (Eph 4:3) reminds us always to return to the source of Cistercian spirituality. It will show us the way to the future.

529-2029: the Jubilee of the Benedictine Life

Abbot Primate Jeremias Schröder, OSB

The Benedictine Jubilee

“Places of Hope since 529”

The Decision

In September 2024, the Congress of Abbots made several decisions and elected a new abbot primate. One decision that this new abbot primate – I – was very happy about was to celebrate the year 2029 as a jubilee across our entire Benedictine family. As most of you are aware, according to the traditional chronology St Benedict established Montecassino in 529. The 1500th recurrence of that year is a cause for celebration for that monastery which in Italian we often refer to as the “archicenobio”, the mother of all monasteries of our whole Order. The assembled abbots, however, decided that this should really be extended to become a celebration for us all. The decision was made and the jubilee was put on our calendar.

Then the abbots all went back home. I was very enthusiastic, but it slowly dawned on me that this is a massive undertaking. To organize a global jubilee which is to be celebrated in different countries and cultures is not just another minor activity that I or my poor secretaries could do on the side, on top of everything else. This was going to take energy and time and dedication.

Preparations

In early 2025 we began to prepare in earnest. We asked some 40 thinkers and writers from our monastic world to send us their thoughts about this jubilee. We received fabulous replies. They are being collected into a book which I hope will soon see the light of day. It is going to inspire all those who will get involved in this jubilee.

As the jubilee idea slowly took shape, it quickly became evident that more people would be needed to shoulder the work. We created a steering committee and more recently also a scientific committee which oversees those activities that require a certain academic rigor and seriousness. Most importantly, we found somebody who accepted the appointment as International Jubilee Coordinator, Mr Adam Simon, who lives near London. Adam Simon tested a Benedictine vocation early in life. Later he married, raised a family and had a successful business career, but he never lost his love for St Benedict and monastic life. He was part of the “Lay Community of St Benedict”, an experiment that started at Worth Abbey in the UK and later became independent. They are a lively group of several hundred “lay Benedictines”. Adam Simon is currently their leader. He brings to this role a deep knowledge and love of Benedictine life, great organizing skills, a rich network of contacts and an infectious enthusiasm.

We also needed professional assistance. The London agency “Peter’s House”, which specializes in enabling effective growth in Catholic ministries, turned out to be very helpful. They had helped the English Bishops to make the Newman canonization a popular event, and they promise to help us achieve something similar.

Enough about the organization, though.

The Principles of this Jubilee

From the outset it was clear that this should not be a self-congratulatory event, but rather an occasion for thanksgiving and reflection, “soul-searching” even, as some said.

It should also become a jubilee for the entire Benedictine family, not just for us here in Italy. This jubilee will be decentralized. The idea is to encourage monasteries, congregations, regions, and countries to organize their own jubilee activities, creatively using the resources that will become available, but without having a central authority that decides what is part of the jubilee and what isn’t. Very Benedictine, in other words: a seed that is being sown and that can bear fruit in different ways in different places.

The jubilee is also conceived as invitational. We want it to reach not just our own monks and nuns, but also oblates and lay Benedictines, seekers and pilgrims, the wider Church, young people, ecumenical friends, interreligious partners, and political and cultural leaders.

The jubilee is expected to leave a legacy behind, just as the earlier jubilees did. I will speak of this below. We will prepare publications and translations, both scholarly and popular. We hope for new digital resources, artwork, films, music, perhaps even theatre. It is already becoming apparent that the jubilee will bring our communities closer together. A digital hub that will connect our monasteries, monks and nuns, jubilee activities and all the others who get involved will create a much stronger Benedictine family.

All this should not just explode in 2029 and then wane again. There will be a journey, or rather a gradual build-up towards the jubilee year. We have given this a very simple structure which follows the stages of St Benedict’s life:

2026 as the Norcia Year with the theme “Awaken”,

2027 as the Rome Year – “Listen”,

2028 as the Subiaco Year – “Grow”,

and 2029 as the Montecassino Year – “Flourish”.

Eventually there will be material available – texts, prayers, meditations, audio and video – that will give substance to those years and themes, enabling our communities to work with them and prepare themselves for the jubilee year.

“Places of Hope Since 529”

The subtitle of the Benedictine Jubilee is “Places of Hope Since 529”. These words are loaded with meaning. Places refers to the monasteries. At the origin of this is Montecassino, the place which Benedict chose to establish a form of life that helped to transform Western Christianity. Through the vow of stability we Benedictines tie ourselves to a community in a concrete place, not to an abstract ideal or an international organization. In this edition of the Bulletin there is also a moving article by Dom Luca Fallica, Abbot of Montecassino about the historical and spiritual significance of Montecassino for us all.

The Catholic Church is generally organized in a territorial way: national bishops’ conferences, ecclesiastical provinces, dioceses, deaneries, parishes. In many places that territorial organization no longer works. The faithful (and even more the seekers!) tie their religious experience to places, shrines and monasteries. Benedictines provide these places. They even cultivate a “love of place”, as Michael Casey, ocso, wrote in one of his books.

St Benedict wrote his Rule as a document of hope. This has many facets, and they keep inspiring me. “Never cease to hope in God’s mercy”, he writes at the end of chapter 4. The entire Rule is an offer of hope for a good life that brings us closer to God. Many of our monasteries are places of hope for visitors, guests and pilgrims.

The experience since 529, finally, has been one of ups and downs, sometimes of survival, sometimes of collapse and death, and again and again of rebirth. “Succisa virescit”, that old unofficial Benedictine motto, encapsulates this sense of hope: that which has been cut off flourishes again!

Past Jubilees

This is not the first time that the Benedictines have prepared to celebrate. 1880, 1929 and 1980 stand out. The first of these helped to generate the dynamic which led to the establishment of Sant’Anselmo and of our Confederation. A legacy of 1980 is “RB 1980”, a translation and commentary on Benedict’s Rule that is still the most widely used version in the English-speaking world. We hope that 2029 will leave us with strengthened bonds and a deeper understanding of who we are.

A Personal Thought

Recently, I have tried to gain a better understanding of the sixth century. Benedictine monasticism came into being at a time of major upheaval, marked by the collapse of the Western Roman Empire, the “barbarian invasions” and the demise of the classical world. It so happens that in the same year, 529, Emperor Justinian closed down the millennial Platonic Academy in Athens. He felt this was no longer needed. In the midst of all this disruption, a new way of life was created which provided a protected space for a new kind of learning, Christian and monastic.

The last few years have seen disruption on a global scale, and more appears on the horizon. We may well be entering another age of turbulence, a change of epoch. A thoughtful jubilee may help us to prepare for difficult times ahead and to focus on what our monastic tradition may have to offer these brewing new times: a Christianity that is humble and grounded, and a sense of humanity and resilience.

Montecassino is a symbol of all of that. It is also a living reality, and it is with great joy that we have recently witnessed a resurgence of vitality in that ancient house of our father. I am rather convinced that this jubilee will be a good thing, for the Archicenobio and for all of our houses — and for many others, too.

To find out more, check out jubilee.osb.org

529-2029: The Jubilee

of the Benedictine Life

Abbot Antonio Luca Fallica, OSB

Abbot of Montecassino (Italy)

529-2029: Becoming Pilgrims in Time,

to Taste Days of Happiness

“Who is the one who desires life and longs to see happy days?” (RB, Prol. 14–15) With this question, which resounds in the Prologue of his Rule, Saint Benedict addresses us too. To desire authentic life is to be able to taste with joy the slow passing of days. Our desire is put to the test: what does our heart truly long for? The very word desire offers a clue. Its etymology links it to the Latin sidera–“stars”–and thus to a world above us, not immediately knowable or controllable by our senses. It echoes God’s promise to Abraham: your descendants shall be like the stars, if you can count them. Another etymological reading highlights the prefix de before sidera. De suggests a lack, which in turn ignites a search. We long for the stars because they are missing from us. Yet de can also mean turning away, stepping aside. Desire, then, may invite us to stop looking upward at the stars. Two paths open before us: longing for what we lack, or ceasing to seek outside ourselves what can be found within. The Rule of Benedict points us toward this second path.

“If you do this–if you speak what is good and do what is good–my eyes will be upon you and my ears attentive to your prayers; and even before you call upon me, I will say to you: Here I am.” (RB, Prol. 18)

Encounter with the Lord is the fulfilment of our desire for a happy life. What we lack is not to be sought in some distant star, but in the good we speak and the good we do, here and now. There God makes himself present, with his gift and with the happiness he has promised.

When Benedict leaves Subiaco and journeys to Montecassino, where he will found the monastery that now guards his mortal remains together with those of his sister Scholastica, what animates and sustains his path is not merely the hardships or disappointments caused by the hostility of the priest Florentius, but his desire for God and his search for God’s face. This is clear from the fact that, on learning of Florentius’s death, Benedict weeps for his enemy and prays for him–yet he does not turn back. He continues his journey, because it is a spiritual itinerary that does not depend on historical circumstances, even though it matures within them.

Moreover, the first act Benedict performs upon arriving on this mountain is a deliberately anti-idolatrous gesture: he destroys the pagan temples and altars he finds there. In their place he builds an oratory dedicated to Saint Martin, and then, at the highest point of the hill, a chapel dedicated to Saint John the Baptist, where he himself will be buried alongside Scholastica. Even today, the struggle against idolatry, against the many idols that threaten our faith, must remain central to monastic life and to its striving toward the true face of God. It is no less significant that Benedict entrusts this search to the protection and intercession of Saint Martin and Saint John the Baptist.

Saint Martin is the one who lives in complete self-giving, from the cloak shared with the poor man to his readiness, according to Sulpicius Severus, not to refuse effort even in the weakness of approaching death, so as to be of service to the people entrusted to him by God. Saint John is the one who points to the Lord, helping us to recognise his presence among us through a path of diminishment, of descent: “He must increase, and I must decrease,” as he testifies in the Fourth Gospel. This logic stands at the opposite pole from idolatrous ways of thinking, which instead imprison us in self-interest and self-assertion. Benedict lives this pilgrimage in faith, hope, and charity, probably in the year 529.

We are therefore preparing to celebrate, in three years’ time, in 2029, the 1500th anniversary of the founding of Montecassino. Here Benedict will live and die, after having written the Rule that today guides the journey of monks and nuns throughout the world. For this reason, the Jubilee of 2029 concerns not only the Abbey of Montecassino and the community that still inhabits it, nor only the surrounding territory, nor even the hundreds of thousands of pilgrims who arrive here each year from every latitude. It concerns the entire monastic world, all its families, men and women alike, who find in the Rule of Benedict an indispensable reference for communal life and for each person’s spiritual path.

Throughout history, Montecassino has played a fundamental driving role not only in monastic life and the spiritual search for God, but in many other dimensions of human life: work and culture, art and history, social organisation and economic structures. When Saint Paul VI proclaimed Saint Benedict Patron of Europe here at Montecassino on 20 October 1964, in the apostolic letter Pacis nuntius, he used three images to sum up the irreplaceable contribution of Benedictine monasticism to the building of European civilisation–and beyond, since its influence has reached every corner of the earth. For the pope of the Council, the cross, the book, and the plough are the three emblematic signs that tell what monasticism, originally radiating from Montecassino, has represented and can continue to represent for human life in all its expressions.

In Benedict’s characteristic logic, what matters is not the individual images themselves, but the fact that they belong together. The cross, that is, faith, becomes the book, and thus culture; culture in turn takes flesh in work, and thus in a shared historical commitment to the transformation of the world. At the same time, historical engagement is inspired by faith and animated by a cultural vision; culture itself does not separate God and the human person, immanence and transcendence; spiritual life is a flight from worldliness, not from the world, and it not only gives a soul to work but is nourished by work itself, embracing it as a place of human and spiritual growth.

Father Bartolomeo Sorge, speaking at Montecassino in 1980 on the occasion of the fifteenth centenary of Saint Benedict’s birth, put it this way:

“In this synthesis of faith, culture, and work lies the essence of Saint Benedict’s message, the originality of the Benedictine institution. In this synthesis of cross, book, and plough also lies the inspiration, the very idea of Europe.”

And we may add: not only of Europe, but of every authentic human community, wherever it may be.

For these and many other reasons–which there is neither time nor space to explore here, the Jubilee of 2029, when we remember 1,500 years of Montecassino’s life, with its four destructions and as many rebirths, must be more than a commemoration of the construction of a monastery. It must be a living memory, still vital today, able to give meaning to our present and to open it to a horizon of hope. It can and must become a prophetic memory. In Hebrew, the root zakar designates both memory and the male element that fertilises the female to generate new life. So it is with authentic memory: it makes our present fruitful and generates a different future.

We, the monks of Montecassino, conscious of this inheritance, which we wish not only to celebrate but above all to live and make alive, hope that the entire monastic world, which during this Jubilee may converge, at least ideally, on Montecassino, will from Montecassino once again expand toward every corner of the earth, wherever Benedictine communities of men and women live, pray, work, study, and offer hospitality. In doing so, we take upon ourselves this question: how does the history we remember place a challenge before us today and for tomorrow? What can and must the cross, the book, and the plough mean for our world, our cultures, our peoples, our encounter with other religious and cultural traditions? How can we keep alive, for the men and women of our time, the question with which Saint Benedict continues to address us: “Who is the one who desires life and longs to see happy days?” How can we help our people today – and all who, for whatever reason, draw near to our communities – not to neglect this question, but to seek wise and concrete answers?

Montecassino is born of a pilgrimage: the one Saint Benedict undertook when he left Subiaco. It was not only a geographical journey, but a spiritual one. How does remembering the path he walked 1,500 years ago enable us once again to become pilgrims, on the paths of the search for God, for what is authentically human, for justice and peace, for truth and goodness?

To desire life is to long for happy days. Life and its happiness need to see happy days; they must take flesh in time and space. We wish to remember what happened 1,500 years ago, and what has unfolded over these fifteen centuries, in order to discern, by the grace of God, Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, and in the light of his Holy Spirit, what space and what time we must shape today so that human life may find meaning and come to rejoice in the joy of a desire fulfilled.

529-2029: The Jubilee of the Benedictine Life

Adam Simon

Project Coordinateor 2029 Jubilee

Places of Hope: Introducing the Jubilee Book for the Benedictine 1500th Anniversary

“Celebrating a 1500-year jubilee!” Sr Myrèse Dupagne osb, from the Monastery of Notre-Dame d’Hurtebise (Belgium), begins with the kind of astonishment that stops us in our tracks. Fifteen centuries is “dizzying”—and yet, precisely because our age is so marked by the fleeting and the fragile, the jubilee becomes a provocation. If anything can last that long, then perhaps our hope is not confounded after all.

This new jubilee book—Places of Hope since 529—gathers voices from across the Benedictine world (and well beyond it), in many languages and from many contexts, around a question asked by Abbot Jeremias Schröder, Abbot Primate of the Benedictine Confederation, to the contributors:

“Does the vision ‘Places of Hope’ resonate with you? What hope do you see coming out from the 1500th anniversary of the founding of Montecassino by St Benedict?”

The responses are rich and varied, and the book will be published during 2026 as an invitation to begin preparing for the Jubilee. The contributors do not pretend that monasteries are perfect or that history has been gentle. They speak, instead, of a hope that has survived collapse, war, cultural upheaval, interior exhaustion, and the slow grief of diminishment. They invite us to recognize hope not as optimism, but as a way of living: a pattern of prayer and labor, community and conversion, hospitality and endurance.

A global refrain: Ghana as a “Place of Hope”

To bring out the genuinely global nature of this compilation, one of the most vivid examples is by Fr Louis Kwadwo Osei osb, from Kristo Buase (Ghana). He makes a pivotal point: the hope radiating from Montecassino is not confined to one hillside in Italy. It has travelled—across cultures, languages, continents—and become local without losing its heart.

Kristo Buase speaks of a Benedictine place of hope in West Africa, woven into its surrounding community. The tradition is alive. The Rule is lived on African soil, translated into local realities, taking flesh in language, music, and community life. Though Kristo Buase is far from Montecassino geographically, it shares the same heartbeat—a commitment to prayer, work, hospitality, and peace.

The “void” at the center: making room for the One who gives hope

Sr Myrèse offers an image of the source of our hope: the empty space at the heart of monastic architecture—the cloister’s open square, the choir’s deliberate gap, the refusal to fill every inch for comfort or efficiency. Why this void? she asks. Does it not testify that we are not our own center— “that our world is inhabited by someone greater than itself”?

It is a deeply Benedictine question, because it is practical. It does not begin with theories of hope. It begins with the shape of a place that is built to keep making room: room for God, room for the community, room for the guest, room for the future we cannot control. In that emptiness, she suggests, we allow God’s presence to emerge—his hope for our world—and we learn again the paradox of a life of self-emptying.

Hope that rises from ruins

Again and again, the book returns to Montecassino itself—founded, destroyed, rebuilt; shattered, re-gathered; enduring as a sign not of invulnerability but of resurrection. The essays remind us that hope does not deny devastation; it learns how to start again. Who can be better to describe this than Abbot Antonio Luca Fallica of Montecassino:

“Since I arrived in 2023, I have grown especially fond of one place within the Abbey: the “cell of Saint Benedict,” inside the Roman tower mentioned by Saint Gregory the Great in Book II of the Dialogues. After the rebuilding that followed the wartime destruction of 1944, frescoes were painted on its walls showing scenes from Benedict’s life, scenes that Gregory places precisely in that setting. Two of them move me in particular. On the left wall, Benedict foretells the first destruction of Montecassino, at the hands of the Lombards in 577. Opposite, on the right wall, he beholds the soul of his sister Scholastica entering heaven in the form of a dove. Facing each other, these scenes invite us to read the tragedies of history, symbolized by the Abbey’s destruction, in the light of the fulfilment God promises us. Hope needs this double vision, brought into one by the gaze with which Benedict sees the whole world gathered into a single ray of sunlight.”

Hope in a weary world: accompaniment and “hope scrolling”

If the modern world can feel like a relentless stream of bad news, Abbot Christopher Jamison osb, Abbot President of the English Benedictine Congregation (UK), names the problem with a familiar phrase: “doom scrolling.” He contrasts this with the monastery’s daily rhythm, where the liturgy and Scripture form a kind of “hope scrolling”, a patient returning, day after day, to the Good News that does not disappear when headlines change.

Jamison connects this to Pope Francis’ call to the Church’s art of accompaniment, a way of walking with people that treats the other person as sacred ground. In this light, the monastery is not only a refuge; it is also a school of attention, training hearts to listen, to wait, to trust that the Spirit is already at work. In a culture that rewards speed, the monastery offers something countercultural: steady companionship.

The digital age: renewal without losing the heart

Several contributions speak frankly about decline, fatigue, and the pressure points of contemporary monastic life. Fr Jaechan Anselmo Park osb, St Benedict Waegwan Abbey (Korea), begins with the pain of seeing communities growing old and the fear that hope is fading. Yet he refuses despair, drawing on Thomas Merton’s bracing paradox: perfect hope can be found on the brink of despair, when God’s power is revealed in our weakness.

From there, Park argues that credible hope in the digital age requires thoughtful renewal: community life marked by trust and participatory leadership; formation that includes reflection on digital ethics and the responsible integration of technology; and practices that help people reclaim silence and attention. The aim is not to chase novelty, but to protect the contemplative heart so it can remain a gift for the world.

Service that reveals the Gospel’s “distance” from the world

Sr Joan Chittister osb, Mount St Benedict Monastery (USA), is, as ever, both prophetic and practical. She insists that with 1500 years behind us, monasteries must widen their arcs of influence: becoming centers of contemplation, social conscience, spiritual development, and community.

She sharpens the meaning of monastic service by inviting communities to point to “the distance between the world we live in and the Gospel we preach.” And she has a missionary instinct about where the people are now: the people are online, and that is where we need to be, ringing the monastery bells in new ways.

A teaser of other well-known voices

Alongside these reflections, the compilation also includes a number of widely recognized contributors—offered here simply as a teaser:

Abbot Christian Temu osb, Ndanda Abbey (Tanzania)

Sr Lynn McKenzie osb, Moderator CIB (US)

Fr Michael Casey ocso, Tarrawarra Abbey (Australia)

Dr Rowan Williams, former Archbishop of Canterbury (UK)

Sr. Mary John Mananzan osb, St Scholastica’s Academy (Philippines)

Brother Matthew, Prior of Taizé (France)

Cardinal Gianfranco Ravasi (Italy)

Sr. Asha Thayyil osb, Mother Prioress, Benedictine Sisters of St. Lioba (India)

Fr Anselm Grün osb, Münsterschwarzach Abbey (Germany)

Why this book, and why now?

Abbot Jean Pateau osb, Abbot of Fontgombault (France) invites us to cultivate another freedom. He calls the Order, as the jubilee approaches, to reclaim the life of our founder and live the Rule; and he ends, with St Benedict’s own insistence, on the final instrument of hope: “Never despair of God’s mercy.”

The jubilee is about renewal and hope for the future. It is about rediscovering what Fr. Mauro-Giuseppe Lepori, Abbot General of the Cistercians, calls the “spring” of Montecassino. A place becomes hope-giving when it is an “inexhaustible source” of life and peace because a living water keeps flowing through the place and through the charism it embodies. For Lepori, this water is the love that flows from the pierced heart of Christ; a monastery becomes a “source” when fraternal communion draws from filial communion with the Father, and “love of God and love of neighbor intersect.” Sr Myrèse’s “void” returns as a final invitation. The center is not ours to fill. The center is God’s. If we keep that space open—architecturally, spiritually, communally—then our monasteries, and our networks of friendship around them, can continue to become what this book quietly proclaims them to be: places where hope is not merely explained, but experienced.

529-2029: The Jubilee of the Benedictine Life

Abbot Benedetto Nivakoff, OSB

Abbey of Norcia (Italy)

“Awake”

The great Benedictine Jubilee of 2029 begins in Norcia this year with the theme of Awaken, and so I thought it might be helpful to share the story of another awakening some years ago.

On August 24, 2016, an earthquake shook the ancient city of Norcia and the nearly 2000-year-old monastery that sits on its central piazza. It was a little after 4:00 AM, and the monks were just about to pray Matins. Awake! While the damage to the building was noticeable, it wasn’t until almost two months later, on October 30 at 7:30 AM (Again, Awake!) a much larger earthquake – 6.8 on the Richter scale – sent the 15th century bell tower rushing into the nave of the 12th century Basilica, reaching all the way down to the crypt where the Holy Twins were born in 480. On that day a few of our monks were right beside the church preparing to offer Mass in the gift shop for those few faithful who remained in the historic center. By a miracle they, and many others, were spared. It was the day that the clocks changed and because of this fortuitous overlap, most people were still asleep rather than carrying on their usual morning routine.

Thus, the monks of Norcia took our place in the footsteps of monasteries throughout the world who have coped with all manner of tragedies. How often had we read in the refectory the histories of famous abbeys that were destroyed by fires, floods, or invaders. We need only read the Life of St. Benedict himself, and the vision he had that all of Monte Cassino would be razed to the ground and only the monks survive, to remember where we sat in this sequence. We were not alone. And yet when such an event strikes, one doesn’t immediately see one’s place in the history books. One sees urgent needs to be met everywhere. On that cool October morning, we saw a mushroom cloud of smoke rise from the town from our mountainside perch, and we knew the first, most pressing need was for the last rites. Awake! The brothers of the Abbey were told to kneel and pray for the dead; the priests rushed to the center of town with stoles and holy oils in hand.

The devastation was intense and the debris everywhere. We found wounded, yet to our great surprise, no dead. We led firefighters through rubble and dangerous streets to the homes of older people we knew who probably had not gotten out. We had to aggressively push the firefighters to break down the door of the cloistered Poor Clare nuns whom we knew would only leave by force. The first responders were sure that the nuns had left. We were sure they hadn’t. When the door finally came down and the sisters were discovered praying around the altar, it wasn’t an ‘I told you so’ moment so much as shock and joy for all. And yet there was no time to waste, other homes needed to be visited. And quickly.

Bulldozers were needed to clear paths to retrieve the 150 or so who had gathered in the only open space left, the central piazza. In an image that went “viral” one monk was photographed leading the faithful in prayer on his knees. The other monks helped organize the exits. We led relay teams down the central Corso with emergency personnel, after the medieval escape tunnel was deemed unreachable and dangerous. The difficult thing about an earthquake, unlike other disasters, is one never knows when it’s over. It can feel calm, no more tremors, and only a second later, everything is shaking and crashing down again.

The days, weeks, months, and years that followed brought many a challenge. With God’s help, so many things that seemed impossible became possible. To the monks and nuns throughout the world who might read these words, I would remind them that our vow of Conversatio is often requested in the most unexpected of ways. On the day of our Profession, each monk hears the words, Surge qui dormit, arise you who sleep! Awaken! And of course, we think on that day that arising is exactly what we have done. But God has in mind so many other moments, so many other ‘wake-up calls.’ Would we have accepted this path if we had known what was in store? Perhaps not. In God’s wisdom we often say Yes to God, to Awaken when we are quite young and this seems easy. And just like in marriage, it can be years or decades that the call to Awaken (or to Listen! as the first words of the Prologue states) is finally truly heard. In that moment it will be the small yesses we’ve made all our lives, often in very small matters, that will help us say Yes to a big one. Or it will be the first time that so many previous utterances of ‘no’ become our first real ‘Yes.’

Great figures of Monastic Life

Benedictine Nuns of Stanbrook Abbey

England

Dame Hilda Wood

1934-2025

Sr Hilda was a nun of Stanbrook (UK) for almost 70 years. The English Benedictine Congregation, of which Stanbrook is a member, is historically a missionary congregation, but while the monks go ‘on mission’, Sr Hilda, from within the monastery enclosure, would work with commitment and love for communities worldwide who live by the Rule of Benedict. She was part of AIM from its early days, often saying how much she enjoyed working with Dom Marie-Bernard de Soos, who became AIM President in 1984. From her ‘pigeonnier,’ her little, dark, work-cell on the fifth floor of the Worcester monastery, she would distribute stipends to needy monasteries, gather second-hand monastic and spiritual books and send them overland across the globe (and wonder why it would take so long to receive a ‘thank you!’). She translated into English, from the original French, the Monastic Spirituality Course of Dom Luc Bresard ocso and assisted in the publication of Witnesses to Christ, a series of early Christian, patristic and monastic texts. Principally, she worked on the English edition of the Bulletin, translating articles from French where necessary (you could sometimes tell she was not 100% fluent in the language) and typesetting them for printing. This was undoubtedly her most stressful work, as those of us in her community can attest, for during the period leading up to each publication she was a little tetchy! But she got over this quickly and was always justifiably proud of the end product. She knew the name and story of just about all the monasteries AIM helped. Occasionally, she would go to Vanves for meetings – revelling in the fact that she was the first Stanbrook nun to use the then-new Eurostar. Only once did she go long-distance: to New Orleans, a trip she thoroughly enjoyed, and came back attempting, unsuccessfully and to the amusement of many, the distinctive New Orleans accent.

Liturgy and lectio were her life. For as long as she was able, she celebrated the Office in church with the community. Austere, frugal and passionately tidy, she would allow only one book to stay out all day in her cell – her Bible, open on her desk at her lectio for the day.

Having broken a hip in a fall, Sr Hilda spent her last period of her life in a care home. Feisty to the end, she took to remonstrating with God for keeping her alive so long; she longed to be with him. In the early hours of 3 September 2025, the feast of St Gregory the Great, who initiated the conversion of the English, she died, ready to live in the presence of God for ever. You could almost hear her telling God, ‘Well, about time!’

Great figures of Monastic Life

Sr Laurentia Johns, OSB

Stanbrook Abbey, England

Fr Augustine Baker, OSB (1575-1641): a Benedictine guide for the 21st century?

… Shall I in a word comprise your proper way to Paradise? It is your Rule, observe it well; it will secure your souls from Hell.

Augustine Baker, ‘A Spiritual Treatise called A.B.C.’ (c.1627)

Who was Fr Augustine Baker?

Augustine (David) Baker was a British Benedictine monk and priest, born in Wales into a family which had outwardly conformed to the Anglican Church. A lawyer by training, after a dramatic conversion experience when he was twenty-five, he became a Roman Catholic, a monk and a priest. Baker was a Founding Father of the ‘modern’ or, ‘restored’ English Benedictine Congregation (EBC). His legal work lies behind Apostolatus Benedictinorum in Anglia (1626), the weighty tome which sets out to prove continuity between the pre- and post-Reformation Benedictines in England. It identifies four gifts (charisma) which mark Benedictine life in England since the early Middle Ages: Solemn celebration of the Divine Office, Hospitality, Enclosure and Study.

As an English Benedictine monk-priest based in France at a time when it was illegal to be a priest in Britain, Baker spent some years on the dangerous mission to serve the Catholic population in England. He died, of a fever in plague-stricken London in 1641.

The most fruitful years for his written spiritual output were those spent at the newly-founded EBC monastery for nuns in Cambrai, Flanders (now Stanbrook Abbey, England). There he was sent in 1624 by the Abbot President, Rudesind Barlow, in response to a request from the nuns for a guide who could lead them into contemplative prayer.

Between 1624 and 1633 Baker produced c. 40 treatises for the fledgling community on how to lead a life of prayer in a Benedictine context; to become, in in his own words, ‘inner livers’. Often compilations of oral teaching, these treatises are mostly short and practical, covering topics like ‘Discretion’, ‘Confession’ and ‘Instructions for Contemplation’, but his translation and commentary on the Rule of St Benedict, presented to Abbess Catherine Gascoigne of Cambrai in 1633, runs to almost 500 pages.

Baker was also a prodigious collector, translator and compiler of works which could feed the minds and hearts of his young charges, e.g. The Sayings of the Desert Fathers, Cassian, the Church Fathers, and closer contemporaries such as Ludovicus Blosius (1506-66), as well as many medieval spiritual authors.

What does Baker’s teaching have to offer monks and nuns today? Augustine Baker wrote his original treatises for Benedictine nuns who had very little experience of the life – beginners, as St Benedict reminds us we all are. Baker’s works are said to contain c. a million words but as the rhyme at the head of this article shows, his teaching is essentially simple: follow the Rule! As any interpreter, however, he has a particular ‘take’ on the Rule which this article seeks to sketch out.

The Big Picture:

‘Contemplation or (which is all one), spiritual prayer, and the perfection of it, is the end of our Rule and profession’.[1]

Although there is but one short chapter on prayer in the RB, for Baker the whole Rule is meant to lead those who follow it to union with God, a union which will only be complete in the next life but which can begin on earth and which gives energy and direction to monastic life. This is not new. More than a millennium before Baker, John Cassian had written:

‘The whole purpose of a monk, and indeed the perfection of his heart, amounts to this total and uninterrupted dedication to prayer.’[2]

The monastic quest has always been for this uninterrupted contact with God which is a foreshadowing of eternal life. And this, not as a special enclave for monks and nuns, but for all who take their baptismal gift as Christians seriously. St Paul counsels the Thessalonians to ‘pray continually’ (I Thess.5:17), that is, to have lives entirely orientated to the Kingdom of God. So for Baker prayer is a lens with which to view the whole Rule. He identifies seven places in the Rule where union with God is implied more strongly (RB: Prol.2; 7:67-70; 58:7; 62: 4; 64:17-19; 71; 72). This approach to the end, or telos, of the Rule is helpful: it keeps us mindful of why we came to the monastery – hopefully, to seek God. And it prevents us from getting bogged down in details, rubrics or customs. Not that these are unimportant…

The means – how to journey towards union with God

For Baker, the means to this end – union with God – are precisely all that the Rule enjoins upon its practitioners, what we would include under the vow of ‘conversatio morum’. He lists:

‘Obediences, Sufferings, Silences, Solitudes, Readings, Labours, Abnegations of Self-will, Fastings, Abstinences…’.[3]

And of course, the constant practice of Humility and Charity.

Prayer, too, is a means as well as the end or telos of the Rule, both vocal prayer of the Divine Office and personal prayer. Baker recommended two periods per day of thirty minutes for silent, contemplative prayer, waiting on God. The main thing is fidelity to this practice through thick and thin, trying to let one’s God-given inner capacity for communion with God to rise up, or rather, be drawn out by God. He encouraged the young nuns, particularly at the beginning of their spiritual formation, to have a stock of short phrases, maybe lines from a psalm or a spiritual book, to help foster their desire and keep focussed on ‘the one thing necessary’. Again we hear echoes of Cassian’s teaching that monks should frequently repeat ‘O God come to my assistance, Lord make haste to help me’ (Ps. 69/70, v. 2).

On a personal level, I have found this approach – seeing the day-to-day details of life in relation to the bigger picture – helpful in integrating the external practices of monastic life and the inner life of the spirit in a way that St Benedict’s monk on the twelfth step of humility manifests (RB 7: 62-70). In a fragmented world where monks and nuns are so often pulled in many directions, such integration can be most beneficial, leading to a certain simplicity and wholeness.

Liberty of Spirit

It’s interesting that Thomas Merton introduced his novices to the writings of Fr Baker and Dame Gertrude More precisely on this point – the sanctification by the Holy Spirit which living the monastic life (conversatio) effects in the monk or nun. Although Merton’s claim that the nuns had ‘abolished the daily examen of conscience’[4] is an overstatement, Baker did discourage over frequent and repeated confessions and scrupulosity which he thought ‘one of the greatest banes of spiritual perfection’ and which hindered ‘that cheerful liberty of spirit which a soul should have to converse with God in prayer.’ He advocated rather ‘a humble consuming of all [the penitent’s] defects in one bundle, in the heavenly fire…of the love of God.’ (STABC, pp. 3-4).

The inner freedom which Baker’s teaching helped to cultivate in those who followed his spiritual way chimes well with modern-day aspirations for mature obedience and personal responsibility. Learning to listen at depth to the inner promptings of the Holy Spirit, always being prepared to check these out with an experienced elder, if necessary, develops an interior strength which can become sensitive to the possibility of, and hopefully counteract forms of, spiritual abuse which are sadly not unknown in the monastic world. As the Letter to the Ephesians urges:

‘Find your strength in the Lord, in his mighty power…so that you may be able to stand firm against the wiles of the devil…For our fight is not against human foes but against…the superhuman forces of evil in the heavens…Give yourselves wholly to prayer and entreaty; pray on every occasion in the power of the Spirit…’ (drawn from Eph 6:11-18).

Contemplative prayer is a powerful aid to keeping our vow of stability.

An expanding influence

‘The happiness of man consists in the happiness of his soul. And the soul cannot find happiness except in Union with God for which she was created…’[5]

Always a controversial figure, Augustine Baker has never ceased to draw interest. An international conference at Baker’s birthplace of Abergavenny to mark the 400th anniversary of his conversion in the year 2000 attracted a large number of participants of whom monks and nuns were in the minority.[6].

Significantly, the venue for the conference, organized by a layman, was a college rather than a monastery: Baker’s teaching on prayer has spread far beyond the cloister and has endured across the centuries because it appeals to that ‘God-shaped’ hole inside us which was made for God alone. It was, in part, Baker’s directing his followers towards the voice of the Holy Spirit within – to ‘consider your call’ - as he put it, which made his teaching controversial in his own day for the heresy of ‘illuminism’ was in the air.

However, the enduring attraction of Baker’s writings is also surprising. While a contemporary of William Shakespeare’s (1564-1616), our author has little of Shakespeare’s fluency with the English language which was not Baker’s mother tongue. Many of his works, collected and skilfully edited by a fellow EBC monk, Dom Serenus Cressy (1605-74), were published as Sancta Sophia in 1657. This is still voluminous (c.20,000 words), and not an easy read but it did establish Baker’s reputation as a spiritual guide and has been in circulation ever since. And by fronting the work with Baker’s version of the Parable of the Pilgrim from Hilton’s Scale of Perfection (14th century), Cressy has provided a key to Baker’s teaching:

‘I am nothing, I have nothing, I seek nothing but the love of Jesus.’

It is that prayer of the heart (‘prayer of the will’ in medieval times), desiring to respond to the love of God: the central feature of Baker’s teaching on prayer.

Over the past 40 years or so, thanks to the dedicated work of the Revd John Clark, and enlightened publishing by James Hogg et al., editors of the Analecta Cartusiana series, critical editions of Baker’s original treatises have appeared, and with them access to Baker’s own voice, though much work remains to be done to make these treasures accessible to a 21st-century audience. One immediate advantage is that, as mentioned, the original works were mostly quite brief and focussed on a particular topic. Overall, the Baker who emerges from these originals is more human, more humorous, more practical. For example, he advocates, as part of a typical monastic day, a period of ‘rest and doing nothing’ for ease of mind and body (STABC, Part ‘C’; cf. RB 48:5) and suggests that the nuns place written prompts of spiritual precepts where they can see them as they go about their daily tasks.

The broad appeal of Baker’s teaching continues today. Latterly, a Benedictine oblate from the States has brought out an accessible publication of some of the writings of Dame Gertrude More, probably Fr Baker’s most well-known and prolific disciple and co-worker.[7]

We shall let Dame Gertrude have the last word in a prayer she composed which shows how serious reading of the Fathers, which her mentor, Fr Baker encouraged, helped fuel her devotion, feed her prayer and supporting her in times of difficulty:

‘Thou art the God of peace. Give me that true love of thee which only bringeth peace. My most dear Lady, [all the angels and saints, pray for us]… and also my beloved father and patron, St Augustine, whom thou hast given me…to be a help to me in doubts and fears, as an encouragement by his books to hope for [God’s] pardon for my innumerable sins, and as a fire in all his words to set my soul also on fire to seek after and aspire to thy divine love…’ Amen.[8]

Such serious reading, as set out by St Benedict in RB 73, and another pillar of Fr Baker’s teaching, is a sure aid for all who follow the Benedictine path today.

Recommended reading: As well as the books mentioned above, Frontiers of the Spirit by Victor de Waal, is a short, accessible introduction to Fr Augustine Baker. ISBN 978-0-7283-0181-8.

[1] Augustine Baker, The Life and Death of Dame Gertrude More, Wekking edition, p. 147.

[2] The opening of Conference IX, On Prayer.

[3] Augustine Baker, The Substance of the Rule of St Bennet (SAP, 1981, p. 1).

[4] Merton, Mystics and Zen Masters, New York, 1967, p.164.

[5] The Substance of the Rule of St Bennet, p. 11.

[6] The book of the conference remains one of the most thorough and helpful guides to Fr Baker and his works: That Mysterious Man: Essays on Augustine Baker OSB, ed. Michael Woodward; Three Peaks Press, 2001.

[7] Poems and Counsels on Prayer and Contemplation by Dame Gertrude More, ed. Jacob Riyeff, Gracewing, 2020.

[8] From the 18th Confession, pub. Paris 1658.

News

Father Ludovico Torrisi, osb

Saint Paul Outside the Walls, Italy

The Holy Year at the Basilica

of Saint Paul-Outside-the-Walls

On 28 December 2025, with the solemn rite of closing the Holy Door of the Papal Major Basilica of Saint Paul Outside the Walls, celebrated by Cardinal Archpriest Michael James Harvey, the Ordinary Holy Year 2025 came to an end, the Jubilee proclaimed by Pope Francis with the bull of indiction Spes non confundit.

Throughout the Holy Year, the faithful from all over the world travelled to Rome to express their closeness to the Holy Father and the Church of Rome, the cradle of Christianity. This communion was manifested in a special way through pilgrimage to the four papal basilicas, and in particular to the Basilicas of Saints Peter and Paul, privileged places of prayer, conversion and the renewal of the profession of faith.

St Paul’s Basilica Outside the Walls, owing to its location in the city of Rome and its imposing size—which allows it to accommodate up to 8,000 worshippers—played a particularly significant role in the Jubilee celebrations that have just come to a close. The flow of pilgrims was constant and numbers were high throughout the year, with a slight dip in August, which is marked by high summer temperatures in Rome. We saw the faithful of every language and every nation entering the basilica: men and women who paused in prayer before the tomb of the Apostle to the Gentiles, who celebrated with faith the sacraments of Reconciliation and the Eucharist, often in the company of their pastors, priests and bishops.

St Paul’s Basilica also hosted several jubilee events included in the official calendar: including the jubilee for catechists, prison officers, various Orders of Chivalry (such as the Sovereign Military Order of Malta), members of the armed forces, and certain nations which, through their dioceses and parishes, organised pilgrimages to Rome, as in the case of Croatia. These were not mere tourist trips, but genuine journeys of faith. We beheld the faces of many pilgrims passing through the Holy Door, filled with joy and hope, especially after the long and painful period marked by the Covid-19 pandemic and the wars that still afflict various parts of the world.

The Holy Year has once again proved to be a precious gift from the Lord to his Church: a favourable time of grace, offered through the ministry of the Holy Father, to all those who wish to embark upon or renew a journey of conversion and faith. We too, the custodians of the Basilica of Saint Paul Outside the Walls, have been able to rejoice in the service we have performed in various ways: hearing confessions, accompanying groups, and assisting pilgrims. Everything took place in an atmosphere of great serenity and without any particular incident.

We give thanks to the Lord for this experience of grace, for the strength given to us in our daily service, and for the many faithful who, having visited the Basilica of Saint Paul, have returned to their communities enriched by the Apostle Paul’s witness of faith, proclaimed in the Word and lived out in evangelical charity.

News

Account by Brother Nicholas Koss, OSB

13th Meeting of the Benedictines of East Asia and Oceania (BEAO)

The 13th meeting of the Benedictines of East Asia and Oceania was held at Thien Binh Monastery from 13 to 17 October 2025. The monastery is located east of Ho Chi Minh City and belongs to the Subiaco Cassinese Congregation. The 12th BEAO meeting took place in Taiwan in 2018.

A total of 47 people attended the BEAO meeting in 2025. Among those not from East Asia or Oceania were various Benedictine leaders, including the Abbot Primate, Jeremias Schröder, and his secretary, Fr Patrick Carter; Abbot Bernard Lorent Tayart, president of the AIM (Alliance for International Monasticism); Father Cyprian Consiglio, Secretary General of DIM-MID (Monastic Interreligious Dialogue); Abbot President Javier Aparicio Suárez, of the Benedictine Congregation of Sankt Ottilien; and Abbot President Ignasi Fossas, of the Subiaco Cassinese Congregation.

41 other participants came, representing the Benedictine communities of the BEAO. They included superiors and delegates of superiors, coming from the following countries: Australia (1 participant), China/Taiwan (5 participants), Japan (3 participants), Korea (8 participants), the Philippines (17 participants), and Vietnam (7 participants).

Fr Philippe Minh Vu Ngoc Tuy, prior of Thien Binh Monastery, and Brother Nicholas Koss, of Wimmer Priory in Taiwan, were the main organisers of the meeting. The liturgical services and the Eucharist were celebrated with the Benedictine community of Thien Binh.

Following the welcoming addresses, the presentation of the communities began and continued over the following days.

Father Cyprian Consiglio, Secretary General of DIM-MID, presented the work of the organisation and recounted a conversation he had had with Mr La Bella, head of the Sant’Egidio Community (Rome), regarding the place of monasticism in the world. Mr La Bella believed that monasticism had four important things to offer the modern world, in the face of what he described as ‘materialism and a lack of a sense of transcendence’:

1. Austerity, a non-consumerist way of life.

2. A witness to the unity of the human race.

3. A way of life that combines prayer, work and study.

4. Inner peace that leads to outer peace.

Father Cyprian focused on the fourth point: How can we, as monks and nuns, sow the seeds of peace, particularly through interfaith dialogue?

Father Cyprian highlighted the four types of dialogue promoted by the Dicastery for Interreligious Dialogue: dialogue through life, dialogue through action, dialogue through theological exchange, and dialogue through religious experience. A new document is currently being prepared by the Dicastery on the Christian spirituality of interreligious dialogue.

On Tuesday 14 October, Mass was celebrated by Archbishop Marek Zalewski, Apostolic Nuncio to Singapore and resident in Vietnam.

In the afternoon, Abbot Primate Jeremias Schröder presented news from the Benedictine Confederation: the large number of students at Sant’Anselmo, the new communication tools (Nexus, the circular to presidents, Facebook); the meeting of the four leaders of the OSB, CIB, OCSO and OCist; the forthcoming Catalogus and the new OSB atlas; developments within AIM; the recent synod of presidents at Montserrat, held in conjunction with the CIB delegates’ conference; the new communication platform between the Confederation and the CIB; and the residence for student nuns in Rome.

Abbot-Primate Jeremias outlined the key issues surrounding the 2029 Benedictine Jubilee, the planning and preparation for which will begin as early as 2026, and in which every community around the world is invited to play an active part. The Abbot-Primate proposed closer cooperation between the communities of the BEAO, notably through the creation of formation modules, a house of studies, etc.

The question was raised of extending the BEAO to the OCSO communities and, as a first step, inviting them to the next assembly.

On Wednesday 15 October, the BEAO International Committee was restructured into a Steering Committee with a chairperson. The meeting’s participants elected Sister Megan Kahler (Congregation of the Good Samaritan Benedictine Sisters) as the new chairperson. The members warmly thanked Brother Nicholas Koss for his dedication and tireless work over many years within the BEAO.

Discussions continued on the Abbot Primate’s proposals regarding formation and the establishment of formation programmes and houses of study.

After a break, Father Abbot Bernard Lorent Tayart, President of AIM, outlined the Association’s developments and future perspectives: the new statutes, the Moderating Council, the four new committees (finance, projects, formation, communication), the Assembly, which meets once a year and comprises the Moderating Council, the presidents of the international congregations, delegates from the major regional organisations (BEAO, ISBF, EMLA, Africa), delegates from the Cistercians and Trappists, the secretary of MID, the director of AIM-USA and the members of the Committees. Abbot Bernard presented the financial aid granted to the communities in 2025, followed by the AIM Bulletin, which is published in six languages and sent to communities worldwide. The BEAO Executive Committee will need to elect a delegate for the AIM Assembly.

The Eucharist was celebrated by Abbot Primate Jeremias. In the afternoon, group discussions began on three key themes: the life and challenges of a contemplative community (relationship with social media, commitment within the community and differing rhythms among religious men and women, the generation gap – particularly regarding sensitivity and obedience), mid-life crises (ways of navigating these crises), and support for the Church in China.

Father Nguyen Van Am, a Salesian of Don Bosco, gave a talk on the Church in Vietnam: ‘The Church in Vietnam: through the turbulence of history and in the building of the Kingdom of God’.

Discussion groups resumed in the evening on two further topics: Benedictine oblates, and possible cooperation between Benedictine communities in East Asia and Oceania.

Each monastery presented the current state of its community of oblates and its current formation programmes. The reports highlighted the methods developed to support the oblates in their spiritual growth, their commitment to prayer and their active participation in the apostolate. The meeting affirmed the importance of strengthening the formation of oblates so that they may live out the Benedictine values of prayer, work and community life more deeply in their respective circumstances. It was agreed that ongoing communication and collaboration between the monasteries and their oblate communities will ensure that the Order’s mission is carried out with renewed zeal and fidelity.

Sister Megan Kahler presented some possible ideas for cooperation between the communities: joint annual retreats, shared community experiences, studies in Europe, English tuition, shared online modules, and the inculturation of resources (translation of fundamental texts), as well as monastic exchanges such as visits to other communities.

On Thursday 16 October, as the group was due to leave at 7 am for a visit to Ho Chi Minh City, Mass was celebrated at 5 am. Father Ignasi, president of the Subiaco Cassinese Congregation, celebrated the liturgy. At the end of Mass, he thanked the Thien Binh community in English and French for their wonderful Benedictine welcome.

The members of the BEAO visited the John Paul II Pastoral Centre, a former diocesan seminary requisitioned by the communists in 1975 and returned to the Church in 1990. There, Father Peter Nguyen Van Hien, head of the diocesan Catechetical Commission, followed by Father Xavier Bao Loc, head of the Commission for Interreligious Dialogue, explained to the group the situation and objectives of these commissions.

After a visit to the city museum and an excellent meal at a restaurant, the visit concluded at the cathedral, which is currently undergoing renovation. Although closed to the public, the BEAO group was granted permission to enter.

The day and the BEAO assembly concluded with an evening event where each country represented was invited to sing, dance or put on a performance related to its culture.

Friday 17 October was the day of departure, following these intensely fruitful days filled with fraternal and upbuilding exchanges.

News

Sister Cristina Lavinhati, osb,

Secretariat of the 13th EMLA

13th Meeting of EMLA (2025)

(Encontro Monástico Latino-Americano)

Fraternal Communities

for a Fraternal World

From 3 to 10 November 2025, Brazil hosted the 13th Latin American Monastic Meeting (EMLA) in the city of Salvador, in the state of Bahia, organised by the UMLA – Latin American Monastic Union. Coming from various countries in Latin America and the Caribbean, Benedictine, Cistercian and Trappist monks and nuns gathered in the capital of Bahia, bringing with them the richness of their traditions, languages and experiences. For a week, Salvador became a place of encounter, listening and deep communion, welcoming communities living according to the Rule of Saint Benedict. The opening Mass was celebrated by Dom Emanuel D’Able do Amaral, osb, Abbot President of the Benedictine Congregation of Brazil.

Inspired by the theme “Fraternal communities for a fraternal world” and guided by the Gospel principle “That they may all be one, so that the world may believe ” (Jn 17:21), the gathering took place at the Centre for the Formation of Leaders (CTL) of the Archdiocese of São Salvador da Bahia, located in the Itapuã region, a coastal area of the capital renowned for the beauty of its beaches and natural environment, which symbolically accompanied the dynamic atmosphere experienced during the gathering. In a simple and fraternal atmosphere, 101 participants – abbots, abbesses, priors, prioresses, monks and nuns – shared in prayer, reflection and daily life. The event was organised by the Brazilian Monastic Exchange Conference (CIMBRA), which warmly welcomed, in a spirit of communion, representatives from the continent’s monastic associations: ABECCA (Benedictine and Cistercian Association of Central America and the Caribbean), UBC (Benedictine and Cistercian Union – Mexico), SURCO (Monastic Association of the Southern Cone) and CIMBRA itself (Brazil).

Since 1972, the Latin American Monastic Meeting has periodically brought together the continent’s monastic communities (formerly every four years, now every six years), establishing itself as a special forum for encounter, formation and shared discernment. Following the last meeting, held in 2019 in the city of Córdoba, Argentina, the EMLA has returned to Brazilian soil, revisiting a path previously travelled: in 1982, Salvador hosted the 3rd EMLA, the memory of which, like that of the other meetings organised over the years, remains a spiritual legacy and a source of inspiration for current generations.

Fraternity lived out and reflected upon

Throughout the week, fraternity was not merely a topic of study, but a reality actively lived out in the daily life of the gathering. Lectures, discussions, group work and liturgical celebrations were harmoniously interwoven, fostering a deeper understanding of the foundations of fraternal life in the Rule of Saint Benedict, of paths to reconciliation and forgiveness, and of the witness of monastic communion in a world marked by divisions and conflicts.

The discussions were enriched by contributions from distinguished speakers representing various branches of the Benedictine family. Dom Gregório Paixão, osb, Archbishop of Fortaleza, highlighted the role of monastic communities as special places where Christian fraternity is born and flourishes. Dom Jeremias Schröder, osb, Abbot Primate, highlighted the power of monastic witness in a world deeply marked by fragmentation; he also presented the Benedictine Confederation and provided information on the preparations for the Monte Cassino Jubilee scheduled for 2029. Dom Mauro-Giuseppe Lepori, Abbot General of the Cistercian Order, explored fraternal communion as a path to personal and communal conversion. Finally, Father Abbot Bernard Lorent Tayart, osb, President of the Alliance Inter Monasteries (AIM), emphasised the importance of cooperation between monasteries and mutual support at the continental level, whilst sharing the testimony of his recent visits to regions severely affected by war, particularly in the Holy Land.

Also contributing to the exploration of this theme were Father Rafael Osoria, ocso, from the Dominican Republic, who discussed the foundations of fraternal life in the light of the Rule of Saint Benedict; Father Damián Ortega, osb, from Mexico, who addressed the challenges of forgiveness and reconciliation in today’s communities; and Sister Timotea Kronschnabl, osb, from Argentina, who presented monastic life as a sign of hope for the Church and for the world.

These presentations were complemented by a contribution from Sister Lynn McKenzie, osb, Moderator of the CIB – Communio Internationalis Benedictinarum, who spoke via videoconference. In her presentation, Sister Lynn offered a clear overview of the structure, mission and functioning of the CIB, an international organisation that promotes communion, cooperation and mutual support among monasteries of Benedictine nuns throughout the world. Her presentation enabled participants to situate EMLA within the broader context of women’s monastic life at a global level, strengthening the bonds of belonging and shared responsibility within the Benedictine family.

A significant moment was the presentation by the Manquehue Movement from Chile, which shared its lay experience inspired by Benedictine spirituality. This reflection highlighted how the values of the Rule of Saint Benedict – prayer, fraternity, stability and the search for God – can also enrich the lives of families and lay communities, thereby broadening the scope of monastic witness within the Church and in society.

An oasis of communion at the heart of the world

In an age marked by haste and excessive noise, the EMLA offered a true oasis of communion. Monastic life, as presented throughout the gathering, proved to be a prophetic sign of unity: a simple life, structured by prayer, silence, work and fraternity, capable of speaking clearly to the heart of the contemporary world.

Liturgy, chant and jubilee spirituality

The daily liturgy, carefully prepared by the Schola cantorum of the gathering, was one of the major spiritual focal points of EMLA 2025. The care taken in the choice of texts, psalms and hymns fostered a prayerful and contemplative participation, helping participants to experience each day as a true school of service to the Lord.

The prayerful listening to the Word of God and the moments of informal conviviatlity strengthened the spiritual and cultural bonds between the participants. In keeping with the Jubilee year being celebrated by the Church, a verse from the hymn for the Jubilee of Hope 2025 was sung by all the participants, becoming a prayerful expression of communion, shared hope and the common journey undertaken throughout the week. This communal singing reinforced the sense of pilgrimage, unity and hope, situating the gathering within the broader horizon of the universal Church:

“Like a flame my hope is burning,

may my song arise to you:

Source of life that has no ending,

on life’s path I trust in you.”

On Saturday 8 November, this sense of communion was also expressed in a more relaxed and convivial atmosphere. The participants took a tour of the city of Salvador, visiting the monastery of the monks of São Bento – the first Benedictine monastery in the Americas – as well as the monastery of Salvador, home to Benedictine nuns whose prayerful presence uniquely enriches the city’s monastic tradition. A typical Bahian lunch was shared there. The itinerary also included the Santa Dulce dos Pobres Social Work, the Church of Senhor do Bonfim and other iconic sites in the city, fostering a closer connection with the history, faith and culture of the Bahian people.

A sending forth in hope

The 13th EMLA meeting concluded on 10 November with a solemn closing Mass, celebrated by Dom Edmilson Caetano, OCist, Bishop of the Diocese of Guarulhos (SP), who also spoke of his experience as President of CIMBRA in 2006, when he hosted the EMLA in the city of Belo Horizonte, in the state of Minas Gerais. The final celebration crowned the week’s events, expressing gratitude for the journey undertaken and renewing the shared commitment to the mission entrusted to them.

Returning to their communities, the participants took with them not only reflections and notes, but above all the living experience of a shared fraternity. Entrusted to the action of the Holy Spirit, they remain called to deepen, with creative fidelity and persevering hope, their monastic vocation, bearing witness – amidst the challenges of the contemporary world – that communion, reconciliation and love in Christ are not only possible, but necessary.

News

Father Michael-Davide Semeraro, OSB,

Prior of the Abbey of Novalesa (Italy)

Novalesa 726-2026

Thirteen Centuries of “lab-oratory”

of humanity

On 30 January 726, the Abbey of Novalesa was founded and placed under the protection of the apostle brothers: Peter and Andrew! Perhaps the winter of thirteen centuries ago was not so cold and snowy that it would have been unthinkable to found a monastery a stone’s throw from the Mont-Cenis Pass during the least favourable season. Thirteen centuries of history… and they are all visible! The Abbey of Novalesa does not hide the wrinkles of its long history, but allows them to be glimpsed like the glorious scars of ancient wounds, wisely borne and well tended. The scars of history are signs of life and proof of perseverance through the successive events of days, years and centuries.

Set like a precious stone in the mountains of the ‘Cenischia’ valley, the abbey resembles a heifer lying amidst the peaceful meadows and woods that surround it, peacefully ruminating on the facts and events so that they may serve as a message of hope for all those who, even today, pass through this place for such varied reasons.

Its long and eventful history – like any history worthy of the name – does not make Novalesa a relic, but a monument. A monument that stands as a testament to humanity, capable not only of speaking of the past, but also of shedding light on the present and clearing the path for the future. Remembering does not mean retreating into the past – however glorious or otherwise – but looking towards a future full of surprises by facing the challenges of the present – here and now – as an opportunity to give of one’s best, leaving behind a fragrant trail: a life lived fully and hope cultivated with tenacity.

The history of Novalesa is like a tapestry whose warp is woven from the famous names of all those who have passed through, leaving us a legacy, and the multitude of nameless souls who remain in the shadows. Names, certainly, known to all, such as Charlemagne and Napoleon, but also faces perhaps unknown, such as the monk Eldrado, whose memory comes alive in the thousand-year-old colours of the frescoes in the medieval chapel that has preserved his relics. Glorious times intertwine with moments of misfortune or decline. To stay, to leave, to return, to depart again are verbs that, in the history of Novalesa, intertwine with those of so many men and women of the past and present. So, in the gallery of portraits of distinguished figures, there are so many empty spaces in which we can imagine placing the unknown names and faces from the monastery’s chronicle, yet they are the threads needed to weave the fabric so that the weft holds.

The stones, the colours, the buildings that blend into the Novalesa landscape reassure us: history can be lived without losing one’s peace of mind – yesterday, today and tomorrow. Life is to be welcomed as a gift and nurtured as a challenge: to live without ever resigning oneself to mere survival, without ever losing the courage to dream of great things whilst attending to the small matters of every day, every hour, every passing moment, so that they cease to slip away. New beginnings, for the most part imposed by misfortune, often prove to be signs of new possibilities.

Visiting a monastery that has stood the test of time cannot but stir a longing for the future. For every monastery and for each of the monks and nuns who dwell there, Pope Francis’s question at the start of his Petrine ministry as Bishop of Rome still rings out: ‘In monasteries, do we await God’s tomorrows?’ To make a tomorrow possible for humanity, we must not forget, but we must remember. This is why we wish to celebrate the 1,300th anniversary of the foundation of Novalesa with sober solemnity and deep passion. It is not simply a matter of taking a leap into the past; it is a matter of offering the first fruits of a future that would be unthinkable without a renewed sense of humanity, lived and shared.

For thirteen centuries, Novalesa has been a ‘lab-oratory’ of humanity where, precisely through prayer – Ora et labora – and the commitment to inhabit this place and bring it to life, there have been – and, we hope, there still can be – the conditions within which one can grow and foster a sensitivity to the Beautiful, the Good and the True. After various vicissitudes and periods of neglect, for the past half-century a community of Benedictine monks from the Subiaco Cassinese congregation has been caring for the abbey, living a life of prayer, work, fraternal life and hospitality.

The Abbey of Novalesa is not merely a historical monument; it is also a place of spirituality dedicated to fostering growth in humanity. Indeed, if one were to summarise the Rule of Saint Benedict in a single word, that word would be: humanitas (RB 53:9). The now classic formula of Ora et labora serves the growth of humanity through humilitas (RB 7), understood as the capacity to accept one’s own reality, as it is, without ever despairing of being able to transform it.

The greatest gift we can share with one another and pass on to future generations is the memory of the beautiful things we have been able to conceive and create, accepting that we cannot take them with us to the grave, but leaving them as a gift that precedes and transcends us. The words of the Lord Jesus apply equally to the Abbey of Novalesa: ‘Not one stone here will be left upon another; all will be thrown down’ (Lk 21:6). These words are true. The history of the abbey is a succession of deaths and resurrections, of periods of vitality alternating with times of abysmal decline. “There is nothing new under the sun” (Eccl 1:9). Nevertheless, the diligence and care with which the very task of humanity is carried out there becomes a legacy which, though mortal, already has a scent of eternity.

The task of the community of monks living in the centuries-old Abbey of Novalesa is this: ‘to safeguard a treasure in order to pass on that treasure’. The Abbey of Novalesa is a treasure that speaks of beauty and transcendence, and as such is a gift to be shared with all men and women of our time. The monastic community fulfils this “mission of humanity” by caring for this symbol of beauty that is the monastery of Novalesa, with all its history and stories. Without forgetting, however, that the best and the most beautiful is not in the past, but lies before us and is greater than us; in a word, it is divine. To visit a place like Novalesa, even just for a brief visit, is like being ushered into the antechamber of transcendence and spirituality, which one experiences in the depths of one’s heart.

Preserving a treasure such as the Abbey of Novalesa requires a passion for passing on a love of beautiful things, which must necessarily also be good and true: that is to say, alive and life-giving. The long monastic tradition is characterised by the ability, following destruction or failure, to start afresh without bitterness and with an enthusiasm renewed by the profound meaning inherent in their ultimate purpose. Even destruction becomes an integral part of the building process which, when you think about it, is always a reconstruction based on what nature allows and offers. Thus Novalesa crosses the threshold of the third millennium not merely as a monument, but as a ‘lab-oratory’. For half a century, this “miracle” has been made possible thanks to the goodwill and passion of the Metropolitan City of Turin, which owns the abbey and has lavished energy and expertise not only on preserving this historic site, but on bringing it to life. Even now, a major renovation project is underway to give the abbey’s façade a fresh, vibrant new look, celebrating its 1,300 years of history with renewed vigour.

The hope is that the shared stewardship of the Abbey of Novalesa may serve as a lab-oratory of humanity. This is the essence of the Rule of Saint Benedict: humanitas as the fruit of humilitas! This is the treasure we wish to pass on through the guardianship and care of a treasure such as Novalesa. Such a task cannot be accomplished without the collaboration of entities, institutions, associations and individuals. To be authentic and fruitful, this ‘collaboration’ must take place without divisions or confusion: in the order and harmony of beauty—not merely aesthetic, but above all, the ethics of relationships and the dynamism of partnership.

There is nothing left to do but to care for this place destined to disappear, like the most beautiful stars in the most distant galaxies, whose light nevertheless gladdens the hearts of those illuminated by it from light-years away. We hope that the abbey’s motto is not contradicted: Nova Lux, the fruit of the Nova Lex of the Gospel of Christ. The diverse and complementary activities taking place at Novalesa may, for many, serve as a lab-oratory of humanity for a shared hope, serenely passed on as a gift and a responsibility.

News

Father Jacques Montfort, OSB,

Prior of Morne Saint-Benoît

The Monastery of

Morne Saint-Benoît, Haiti,

“From new beginnings

to new beginnings…”

We are familiar with the glorious beginnings of Gregory of Nyssa: Le Morne Saint-Benoît, a tiny Benedictine monastery in Haiti, is also moving forward, but through a series of new beginnings.

Its foundation in the late 1970s was one such beginning: for the first arrivals, Olivetans driven out of Beirut by the war in 1975, who had lost everything in the flames, founded the monastery in Haiti to start anew. They settled near Jérémie, and a few years later – due to cyclones and the distance from the capital – they moved on, starting afresh in Port-au-Prince. Then Landévennec, a Subiaco congregation, took over: the three new founders, Brothers Simon, Anselme and Patrick, effectively started again once more, settling near Carriès where we still are today—a well-chosen spot, beautiful, secluded and quiet, fairly central, not too far from the capital (65 km). The soil is poor, a pile of stones, but a good spring, tapped higher up in the hills, makes life possible: and the brothers are replanting trees, yet anothernew start, since the Pearl of the Antilles was once covered in trees.

The first building was simple, somewhat rudimentary, and a few years later, work began again further up the hill, to accommodate twelve monks, plus guest quarters and workshops.

In the 1990s, a new abbot arrived at Landévennec and a new prior at Le Morne; the latter, deeply influenced by Charles de Foucauld, dreamed of a fresh start in that spirit. The brothers were not entirely on board, and after two years, we returned to the first prior’s approach: we would remain Benedictines in heart and spirit.

The country had its problems: dictators came and went, promises followed by corruption and violence. We started afresh with a former priest as President of the Republic, later a former singer, later a former neurologist, but it was poverty that returned each time, and for the monastery, the challenge was to hold firm and do the best we could with what little we had. Many young Haitian brothers have merely passed through, leaving us, buffeted by these storms to a greater or lesser extent, after 1, 2, 10, 20 years of communal life.

We have been spared earthquakes, and gang violence too, so far. It would take nothing much in nature (the path of a cyclone, a fault line between tectonic plates), or the whim of a local leader, for everything to collapse and for us to have to start all over again. We are hanging on by a thread, but that thread is in the firm yet gentle hands of the Lord.

We do not know what will matter most to Him, for His Kingdom: the humble admission of failure, which would place us alongside the Crucified One, or the promise of leaven in the dough, of the lost and found coin, images of this new beginning we are now experiencing with new young Haitian brothers. There are three of them, making four with me, an elderly French prior: a solemnly professed brother, a temporarily professed brother, and a novice – Brothers Johnès, Acnert and Emmanuel.

To support ourselves, we have a printing press in particular, started by Brother Simon, closed down following a canonical visit (an oral recommendation, though not mentioned in the visit report), restarted after the earthquake, and now thriving and serving the local schools.

And the liturgy? In Creole, and always sung, even when there are only two of us brothers, soloist against soloist, with perfect harmony guaranteed.

‘Beginning again’ does not carry the joyful tone of ‘beginning’; one senses a connotation of suffering and another of stubborn hope. Landévennec, the mother abbey, has seen it all happen throughout the centuries! But we have learnt patience, trust, and not to panic in the face of storms, not even cyclones. From afar, from France, from Rome perhaps, the burden seems heavy; in fact, it is light, and monks and Christians know why and by Whom.

“If you run with foot soldiers and they wear you out, how can you compete with horses? If you need a land at peace to feel secure, what will you do in the wilderness of the Jordan?” (Jer 12:5)

News

The Philippines

during Tropical Storms

Following the devastating tropical storms of July 2025, during which the Benedictine sisters of Tutzing distributed hot meals, clothing and hygiene kits to the most vulnerable members of the population affected by these disasters, the series of typhoons in the following months of November and December caused further flooding and the destruction of homes, leaving the population once again in distress.

SSA-B Helps Typhoon Tino–Affected Communities[1] (By Mairi Mahilum, Marie Gen Malacad, Gabrielle Peñalosa, and Chloe Gensolin)

On November 23, 2025, St. Scholastica’s Academy of Bacolod City Inc. (SSA-B), under the leadership of our school directress Sr. Ma. Ezechiel Fernandez, OSB, school principal Mrs. Claude Feliza Ganaban, and PTA President Atty. Rhett Poyogao, led the Call for Donation and relief operation for communities in the Negros Island Region that were devastated by Typhoon Tino. Severe Tropical Storm Tino (locally Kalmaegi) struck the Philippines upon entering the Philippine Area of Responsibility on November 2, 2025, bringing torrential rain, powerful winds, and catastrophic floods. The storm left vast destruction across the Visayas region, particularly in the cities of Bago and La Carlota, and the Municipality of La Castellana.

In response to this calamity, guided by the teachings of St. Benedict, we embodied the values of community and service by organizing a donation drive among the Scholastican family. We called for contributions of basic goods and monetary support, which were carefully managed by the SSA-B PTA and staff to ensure that help reached those most in need.

A resident of Barangay Robles in La Castellana shared that the sudden rise of the river’s water level forced him to flee with only his daughter, leaving everything else behind. This traumatic experience is but one among many, as families continue to grapple with loss, uncertainty, and the long road to recovery.

Many affected residents remain unable to return home due to the complete collapse of structures and the persistent threat of further rain and flooding. With no time or resources to begin rebuilding, displacement has become a part of daily life. The disruption extends to schools, which remain unstable, delaying the resumption of regular classes and depriving students of their right to education. This humbling experience reminded us of our own privilege, of the safety of our homes, the stability of our campus, and the continuity of our routines.

Witnessing the aftermath first hand was both disheartening and eye-opening. It reminded us of nature’s unpredictable power and the urgent need for competent, transparent leadership in disaster response. Yet, at every community we visited, we were met with hope. When asked how they were coping, many simply replied, “okay lang,” despite everything they endured. Each donation recipient expressed heartfelt gratitude and offered warm smiles, a testament to the unwavering resilience of the Filipino spirit. In response, we remain committed to the Benedictine values of stewardship, hospitality, community, and humility as our country continues to endure multiple calamities.

Tabunok Community: Sisters Bring Hope to Typhoon Tino Survivors in Mananga, Cebu (By Sr. Constance Tecson, OSB)

As Pilgrims of Hope, the Sisters, together with their lay mission partners, reached out to families severely affected by Typhoon Tino in Camp 4, Mananga, Cebu on December 2025.

The community lies along the once life-giving Mananga River, now a source of danger during heavy rains. Reaching the area requires descending 40 to 50 feet from the main road, a precarious path highly vulnerable to landslides and flash floods. Despite the risks, the team pressed on, guided by compassion and solidarity. When asked why families remained in such a hazardous place, one mother voiced their painful reality: “the government-provided relocation site was a dumpsite, far removed from their livelihoods and means of survival.”

Moved by these stories, the Missionary Benedictine Sisters acted swiftly. With the generous support of AIM-USA (Alliance for International Monasticism), immediate relief assistance was extended to the affected families. This support soon progressed into a rehabilitation phase focused on restoring stability and dignity. Through this collaborative effort, homes of approximately 35 families from the Mananga area, including those near the Tabunok community and nearby cities. were rebuilt or repaired. Construction materials and financial assistance were provided, enabling families to begin rebuilding their lives with renewed dignity and hope.

[1] Extracts of the newsletter of Benedictine Sisters of Tutzing in Philippines, october-december 2025, p. 11-14.

News

 Sister Megan Kahler, osb,

Sisters of Good Samaritan

President of the BEAO

The Situation in Kiribati

The Republic of Kiribati is a series of 33 islands spread across the line of the Equator. The islands are largely coral atolls - they have been shifting for many years. It is thought the islands were first populated over 600 years ago and the people claim their heritage from Asia and Melanesia. In the 17th century, the islands were visited by Europeans and Kiribati eventually became a protectorate of the British Empire, under the name of the Gilbert Islands. The Republic of Kiribati eventuated with independence in 1979.

It is a small nation made of many islands with just on 800 square kilometers of land spread through nearly 3.5 million square kilometers of water and a population of just 120 000 people.

Kiribati faces some enormous challenges. It has few resources to meet the challenge of changing climate and inundation from water. A significant risk is to their fresh water supply as salt water leaches into the shallow water table. The highest point of Kiribati is two meters above sea level so rising tides and water levels threaten them daily. Another challenge is the vast ocean that the country is spread across – communications, transport and infrastructure often require great patience and creativity. It is one of the least developed countries in the world and is highly dependent on aid for its economy. The people of Kiribati suffer from high rates of diabetes, smoking, child/infant mortality and have one of the lowest life expectancies in the pacific. Many of the aid projects have focussed on improving housing and education, access to clean water, improved sanitation and most recently, establishing water desalination plants.

The Good Samaritan sisters have two communities on different islands, having been invited by the Bishop of Tarawa and Nauru to help with education in 1988. There are eight sisters working in education, pastoral education, prison ministry and support for people with disabilities.