Farewell & Thankyou to Our Lady of Calvary Abbey

 

              Our Lady of Calvary Chapel with worshippers from the surrounding communities

When we lived in Halifax I took time away from my busy ministry in a downtown congregation to go on retreat at the Cistercian monastery near Rogersville in rural New Brunswick. I ended up doing so three times over several years because I appreciated the solitude and atmosphere of Our Lady of Calvary Abbey. During the first visit I realized how extensive this agricultural community was and on subsequent winter visits I took my cross-country skis to explore the farm trails through the woods and fields.

I would go by train and because Rogersville was an irregular stop with a tiny station I had to instruct the conductor that I was getting off or they would have sailed on through. On my first visit the brother who picked me up let me know that one of the other monks had died and when I attended my first daily office the plain, locally constructed coffin was in the centre of the choir section where the monks sat for the services. 

Some of you may recall a blog in which I wrote about getting permission to stop at the hermitage of one of the brothers who lived in the woods. I smelled the wood smoke from his tiny abode while out skiing and realized the cabin was nearby. He was very welcoming and it turned out that he was one of two American brothers at Rogersville who had lived for a time at the Trappist Abbey of Our Lady of Gethsemane, the Kentucky home of perhaps the most famous of 20th century Christian monks, Thomas Merton. This brother had recently returned from a visit to the doctor in Moncton and observed that everyone seemed harried in their daily busyness. The other amiable American asked if he could accompany one day and produced skis that looked as though they had been fashioned from pieces of the ark. 

Our Lady of Calvary came to mind recently so I looked to see if they had an online presence. I discovered on their website that they had closed earlier this year. When I visited there were eight or nine brothers, most of them aged, and even though more had joined them over time they were down to three when the decision was made to close the monastery and a nearby Trappistine convent. 

I shared this news with son Isaac who as a university student also spent time there and worked with the brothers and outside employees in the barns. He commented on their humour while working and watching them shed their overalls to make a beeline for the chapel, magically reappearing in their robes.

                                                                     Brother Leo, Guest Master 

I appreciated Brother Leo, the friendly guest master, who had been a stone mason in Halifax when he felt drawn to the monastic life. He always made sure that I knew where we were in the prayer book because this was a French-speaking community. He loved the psalms, most of which he knew by heart after years of chanting them. He was more robust during the years I visited than in the photo, above. 

We were both saddened by the news of the closure, although it seemed inevitable. I always felt calmer and renewed when I departed. This isolated faith community was not only a Christ-light but a sort of prayer power station. Thank you to the monks and nuns of those communities whose "ora et labora" -- prayer and work -- made a difference through the decades. If I recall correctly those words were above the doors to the chicken barn.