The monthly “Archives” series for this publication year of The Current will present selections from previous publications from the monastery, notably from its former “Newsletter” and “Portsmouth Bulletin,” which served the community of oblates and friends. This extended community has always been significant to Portsmouth, back to its very foundation by Leonard Sargent. In seeking to establish a Benedictine house in the early 20th century, Dom Leonard had cultivated an association of friends, particularly in the New York City area, to support his endeavor. Many of these associates formed the original community of oblates and also helped provide a network for the creation of the School. This Archives series will dig out various “core samples,” representative communications of past decades, tracing some of the history and heritage that has shaped our present community.
Foundation of new dorms (1973)
Fr. Leo van Winkle remarks on growth and change. As we look back a half-century, to the 1970’s, we find then that monastic publications tended to encompass and integrate both school and monastery. This is not surprising, as the administration and faculty of the school at this time remained heavily staffed by monks. The headmaster, Dom Leo van Winkle, writing fifty years ago, injects an interesting commentary on the changes he is noticing occurring on the campus. He compares the status of monastery and school to the one he had discovered when he first arriving as a student in 1933. While his words have now aged an additional five decades, his expression of the sense of development and change sounds timeless, well-suited to our recent experience of the monastery and grounds. Monastic stability, it seems, does not mean that the place itself remains stationary. Even as we go to print, the finishing touches are being put a new Student Center in the middle of campus, while overlooking the same stretch of Narragansett Bay that first captivated Leonard Sargent in 1918. Headmaster Van Winkle comments in The Portsmouth Bulletin:
Construction of St. Hugh’s Dormitory
This afternoon I received a letter from Dr. G.C. Bateman, the Headmaster of Portsmouth when I entered the school in 1933, and a little later I walked through the dormitories now under construction on a brief “inspection tour”. The contrast between what Portsmouth was when I first came and what it will be with the completion of the new dormitories and the hockey rink, not to mention the other buildings sought in our present development program, struck me very forcibly. The change in the physical plant will be almost complete; the one link between the past and the future in our school buildings proper is Saint Benet’s Dormitory, which was originally planned to have been the first of a great quadrangle of dormitories connected with a monastery and church all in the same gothic style. Although Saint Benet’s has been and continues to be a fine dormitory, I cannot help thinking that there is no one who is not very grateful that Portsmouth was not able to continue in that same derivative style but, that it has instead the beautiful modern complex of buildings designed by Mr. Pietro Belluschi. (The Portsmouth Bulletin, September 1972)
Headmaster Dom Leo van Winkle, OSB
While Dom Leo captured the sense of novelty and change, he seems to overstate the finality in such development of the monastery and grounds. This is understandable, as he had just witnessed the massive transformations of the late 1960’s with the Belluschi array. Yet the school and even the monastery would continue, and does continue, to construct and reconstruct buildings. Even within the monastery, we see the recent completion of a series of major renovations continuing now with yet more, with the installation of an elevator, displacing the abbot from the monastery’s original abbatial suite. Yet we gain here in Dom Leo’s words a glimpse into our shared experience with those inhabiting and existing within the physical structures that surround us. We too may be “forcibly struck” to absorb in a moment the wave of change that continues around us.
Abbot Matthew Stark, OSB (1970)
Abbot Matthew’s Snapshot of the Oblate Community. We may also be struck, however, by the continuity within the change. As evidence of this, we reproduce the description of the Portsmouth Oblates offered by Abbot Matthew Stark in the subsequent issue of The Portsmouth Bulletin (March 1973). While this comment also has now aged a half-century, it offers an apt basic vision for our present-day oblate. Though the composition of our oblates has changed over time, particularly in the identification of a distinct New York oblate community, we find in his words a commonality of practices and, most certainly, a clear and ancient rootedness in the Rule of St. Benedict. Abbot Matthew writes to the “Dear Friends of Portsmouth”:
An important, although perhaps little known, part of the monastic family of Portsmouth is the Oblates of Saint Benedict. These are men and women who have committed themselves to follow in their lives the spirit of the Benedictine Rule and who are associated by prayer with the monks of the Abbey. The oblates have no specific rule of life and in this are unlike the Third Orders associated with, say, the Dominican and Franciscan orders. Each person is left with characteristic Benedictine freedom to adapt the principles of the world to his own daily life and work. The practice of enrolling men and women as associates in the life of Benedictine abbeys is an ancient one. In the middle ages, many men and women joined themselves to a community to gain a part in its work and prayer. Portsmouth almost from the beginning has had a devoted group of oblates who have contributed much to the life and growth of the house. Some of the present monastic community were first linked with us as oblates. Many of our alumni have become oblates and a great number of men and women are primarily connected to the life of the monastery by means of this bond. Throughout the year there are days of recollection held at the Abbey for the oblates and in the spring there is an annual retreat. In New York there are regular meetings of oblates, with Mass and a talk by one of the monks.
The primary note of the oblate’s spirituality will generally be his devotion to the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, to the Scriptures and to prayer. In these he will be following in its absolute essence the spirit of the Benedictine Rule. He will, of course accommodate his spiritual practices to the requirements of his family, work, and leisure. But like the monk, the oblate will always strive to infuse these elements of his life with the spirit of prayer and the search for God. He will want to do all things for the praise and glory of God. (Abbot Matthew Stark, The Portsmouth Bulletin, March 1973)
As a historical addendum, Abbot Matthew’s note provides details on the meeting schedule for the New York community. He also indicates that Dom Benedict Lang was at that time heading up Portsmouth’s oblate activities – Dom Benedict led the oblates for over forty years.
The “Mini-Monks” Experience. Another facet of the extended community of “friends of Portsmouth” seeking to learn and live by the Rule of St. Benedict, of course, reaches much further than oblates. Many such aspirants are drawn from the School. In this same issue in which Abbot Matthew spoke of the oblates, we find an article entitled “The Mini-Monks." The article is the reflection of Kenneth Stier ’74 on his own experiences as a “mini-monk” or “claustronaut” – a title designating a group of students who spent a few days living in the monastery during the school year. We may find his description of his discovery tour illuminating. Claustronaut Kenneth writes:
This is an idea that originated with an obscure figure in the monastery. It was funneled through the Student Council and resulted in the journey of four students… into the monastery for a few days to live with the monks as “mini-monks“ or, as they prefer to call us now, claustronauts. We ate, slept, worked and prayed as part of the community. We also continued to attend classes and activities. The hardest part of the schedule was the beginning of the day, which started at 5:30 AM. A caller would come around to rouse his brethren with the call of “Benedicamus Domino” (Let us bless the Lord). We were expected to make a response of “Deo Gratias” (Thanks be to God). Twenty minutes later, awake or not, we glided down to our stalls behind the altar for the recitation of Matins and Lauds. Afterwards there was a period of spiritual reading and mental prayer. Breakfast is buffet and if you sit in the right place, you can catch the sun’s rays as it peaks over the hill with the cross behind the monastery. The next service is Terce at 7:40, followed by mass which runs into the first period. Later in the day the monks meet before and after lunch. Vespers at 5:30 P.M. is the only service still completely in Latin. After dinner there is a period of recreation, followed by Compline, the final act of common worship for the day. This initiates the period of “The Greater Silence” until the next morning.
Life in the monastery is very simple and relaxed. You weren’t constantly haunted by dissonant bells. The relative silence had a definite impact: the whole atmosphere was much more reflective than I had experienced before. The library was an integral part of the monastery and I liked the idea of silence at meals as we listened to two separate books being read. You could be in your room most of the day and be totally unaware of the events outside. The common prayer consisted mostly in singing psalms, one side reciting a few lines and the other responding. I especially enjoyed the Gregorian Chant. To us the services were the most intriguing part of the day. As we were not too involved in the actual worship intellectually or emotionally, these probably would have lost their interest after a while. Although we were there only three nights, I think we got the feel of the simple horarium. I can better grasp the appeal that this type of communal life would have for people devoting their lives to “seeking God only.” The monastery and monks are now no longer so mysterious. I can now see the monks in a different perspective both as religious and as people.
… There is a Buddhist custom of requiring young adults during their religious upbringing to live in a monastery for a time.
While there are dangers of forcing a person to live in a monastery, especially when they’re young, I think this is a good idea. You develop respect and understanding for the particular monastery and religious order. You also are exposed to a form of communal living. I think that given modern problems of community development, something like this is especially helpful in our time. (Kenneth J. Stier ‘74, The Portsmouth Bulletin, March 1973)
As Kenneth Stier ’74 was of the same Abbey generation as the present writer, I am “forcibly struck” to realize that his mention of “our time” has now aged, as have I, an additional half-century. But perhaps, even as I hereby relegate myself to the Archives, I can take solace in the continuity of “shared experience” that makes such a past seem not so distant, after all.
1973: Ab Matthew, Fr. Benedict Lang, Fr. Julian Stead
(portrait of John Hugh Diman in background)