There is no noise for all is still, except perhaps for the wind from the canyon beating against the walls. Each room is dark and silent as the bright brilliant moon shines its glow and the stars twinkle in the heavens above. The towns and cities of Wyoming are black; every man is asleep in bed. It is 4:10 in the morning and the day for many has not yet begun, but in this silent stillness there tolls a bell for the space of a “Hail Mary†and those precious words of the new day sound from the monk’s lips, “Praised be Jesus Christ!†Many do not hear these words, but to the monks who wake to such a resounding cry the day has begun. Jesus is waiting for them in their small, poor little chapel; there is work to be done, prayers to be said and souls to be saved.
The young monks hurry to wash the sleep from their eyes and to arrange the ribbons in their prayer books, just in time for the prior’s knock as his venerable voice cuts through the early morning silence, “We shall go into the house of the Lord.†As this sweet psalm chimes forth from each mouth, the brown robed monks slowly process down the stairs and into the chapel “to praise the name of the Lord.†Each morning begins in this way, as it is written “Seven times a day I have given praise to thee.†Yes indeed, the monks’ eyes are still tired, but their hearts and minds are filled with love and peace as the Divine Office echoes back and forth, from one side of the chapel to the other in the ancient monastic tradition. In this way Matins and Lauds are prayed and God is praised by His Carmelite Monks who come to Him with the prayers and intentions of His Church. With 6 a.m. near, the Angelus bell breaks forth in its joyful tone and words of the Angel Gabriel are spoken, the Virgin May honored, and the Incarnation of God adored.
With the public prayer of the Church said, the monks’ voices rest for one hour as they contemplate the Lord in silence and love. Each monk listens in the stillness of His heart to the gentle voice of God who is so very near, and places at God’s feet the world, the Church and the many intentions of the monastery’s friends and family. How delightful and profound is the silence during the morning hour of mental prayer as the monk gazes intently upon His God, hidden in the tabernacle and as God gazes back at His servant! This is the work of the monk, to be alone with the Alone and to elevate all men to our Loving and Merciful God.
As the sun rises on the monastery in Clark, the Divine Office continues with Prime and Terce. His Church once more prays the psalms prayed by Christ, as the monk’s mind and heart turn ever more to the Lord. The chant of the monks flows forth in hymns, psalms and readings as the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass draws nearer.
Arising from prayer, the monks prepare with joy for the coming of the Lord upon the Altar and for the Sacrifice of Calvary to be made present in their midst. There is no greater delight for the monk than to hear Holy Mass and to receive the Lord within. Fr. Prior vested as a soldier set for battle ascends to the Altar to offer the Sacrifice of Sacrifice in expiation for sin and in burning love of God. The eyes of the monks’ glisten and their voices resound as they too share in Christ’s Crucifixion and in His love. You see, each monk is like another Christ; he sacrifices his life for souls in an unbloody, but nonetheless real way. The Carmelite must become all the more like Christ, the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world. The monk must come close and learn from the Lord and Master.
With the Blessed Sacrament within them, and after due thanksgiving has been given to our God, the monks process forth to the work of the day chanting in humble thanksgiving, “Let all the people give praise to thee.†Although the busy day of the young monastery must begin, the praise of God shall not be deterred for in every act and word, God must be praised who has blessed us. Looking to the prior to render his obedience, each monk’s work is assigned. The monks head to their manual labor to earn their bread by the work of their hands.
In the coffee workshop the roaster is started, the bags of green beans opened and roasted to pure perfection. Back at the monastery, the phone begins to ring and the bell at the gate beckons. One woman has a prayer intention that the Lord bless her with health and for a dieing friend. A neighbor comes to the gate with fresh rhubarb, asparagus and eggs. A priest writes asking for the monks’ prayers for his confirmation class and a newly married couple. And so the morning passes, as the monks labor for their keep. Each monk has his role to support the monastery’s growth and its future in Wyoming, but none of the work can stir the monk’s innermost peace and joy where God dwells. Here the monk confides the little struggles and challenges, the intentions of the world, and the good of the Church. The monk turns in to renew his love and his zeal for the Lord who has called him to be occupied in praising Him.
The morning passes as sweat drops down the monk’s brow, but this too is passing as the bell tolls anew at twenty till noon. The work must be punctuated by prayer in that rich balance of the monastic life. The monk prepares with haste to process to the chapel and to behold again the dwelling place of God. There the psalms are once again taken up and the morning’s cares and labors brought to Christ. After the heavenly singing has stopped, the Angelus is rung and the monks’ process off to the refectory to take their noon meal.
The food is blessed, each monk takes his spot and the reader begins in calm tone, “In the name of the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.†The Gospels are read and then the wisdom of the saints as each monk begins to eat his portion, mind and heart ever fixed on the Lord. As the mind is preoccupied with holy thoughts, the body too is nourished by the simple food put before each monk. The reading is ended by the prior’s knock and the community chants its thanksgiving and returns to the chapel to pray the Divine Office of None. There is much to give thanks for and much to pray for as God has provided. “Praise is truly fitting.â€
When prayer is done, the monks wash the dishes. This chore is accomplished in silence, but with great love and peace as each dish is washed and dried for supper. The crucifix hanging on the kitchen wall and the icon of Mary above the sink are reminders; the monks’ labor is love in the presence of God and His Virgin Mother.
The silence and prayer are interrupted for one hour each day, so that the monks may find rest and laughter in the company of the community. The monks joke and tell stories; they speak of the saints and of nature, and sometimes even play a little football. Laughter is not found wanting, but peace and fraternal charity abound as the seven young monks marvel and praise God who brought them together in a little cloistered monastery in Wyoming. Perhaps even a letter from a mother or a picture of a Brother’s family is shared. Carmel is a family, the family of Mary.
The 3 o’clock hour at last arrives and the monks stop everything; this is the hour when Christ died for love of us poor sinners. The monks kneel and turn to the Mother of Mercy, the Virgin Mary invoking Her maternal tenderness on the monastery, Wyoming and the world as Her glorious titles are proclaimed and Her intercession fervently beseeched. “We offer thee, o Lord Jesus this Chaplet of Divine Mercy…†begins Fr. Prior and the many intentions are brought to the Cross. The monks turn to God’s Mercy and gaze upon their suffering Lord on that infamous gibbet. The Church, the Holy Father, and our dear Bishop are remembered most especially, as are all of the Diocese’s priests, deacons, religious, seminarians and laity.
Work is once more begun as the lawn is mowed, vegetables prepared for dinner and guests welcomed at the gate. The words of the psalms and the monastery’s special intentions dwell in the monk’s mind, as an ardent love of God inflames his young heart. Many come to the monastery during these visiting hours to encounter the peace of the monks, to witness their love, share God’s blessings and often to be clothed in Carmel’s brown Scapular of protection. The monastery is a refuge of prayer and peace for all who draw near and share in its founding in the solitude of northern Wyoming.
At last the day’s work must end with the ringing of the bell for prayer. The monks wash and prepare for Vespers, Holy Mother Church’s Evening Prayer. Once more the psalms are chanted as they arise from the heart and the Magnificat of the Blessed Mother is sung by Her Carmelites. Evening meditation is made in that great tradition of St. Teresa of Avila and St. John of the Cross. For this hour of silent contemplation, the monks retire to the solitude of their own rooms where they find God. There, in those poor and austere bedrooms, the monk’s sole duty is to occupy Himself with the Lord God of Hosts. In the interior of his soul, the monk converses freely with God. He is reminded of the sweet yoke promised by Christ to those who leave all to follow Him into the desert.
In the rhythm of monastic life, this treasured time of prayer too must end with the Angelus being prayed. Then the monks process to the evening meal. Supper is hearty and simple, once more taken in silence with the slow, calm reading sounding forth. When the meal is finished and the prior knocks, each of the monastery’s benefactors, from the neighbor who donated food to the woman who made new habits is prayed for by name. This powerful apostolate of prayer is the monks’ poor gift of thanksgiving in return for such generosity. Dishes are done as the sun starts to hide away amongst the clouds and the monks are reminded that one more day in the paradise of the cloister is coming to a close.
The bell summons the community to the chapel where the Most Holy Rosary is prayed in common as the wooden Rosary beads softly clatter and each monk takes his turn at leading the recitation. The voice of each monk is strong and filled with love for his Heavenly Queen as the needs of our Diocese, the Church and the world once more are poured forth in the presence of God. Each intention is carefully tucked under the white mantle of Mary that She may in turn bring the monks’ prayers to Her Divine Son.
Now at last, the Carmelites are exhausted from a day of prayer and penance and the work of founding a monastery. The day has drawn to a close and so must the Church’s Liturgy with the chanting of Compline. In the darkening dusk each night, the monks conclude their prayers with the day’s last psalms, hymn and reading. With Simeon, the monk does pray, “Now thou dost dismiss thy servant, O Lord, according to thy word in peace.†The Carmelite Monks fix their gaze upon their august Queen, Our Lady of Mt. Carmel whose statue beautifully adorns their chapel and chant Her prayer, the Hail, Holy Queen. The day that has passed, the night and the morning to come are left in Her Immaculate hands, as is the monk who is the servant of God’s Mother.
Each monk in turn comes forward to kneel for his night blessing, to depart in silence as darkness covers the earth. The Great Silence is now observed, the monks’ beloved time for prayer, reading and study. The door to each bedroom is shut and all is seemingly still, but in each room a monk is ever at work in loving God and in praising His loving kindness. With a last glance upon the clock and prayer complete, the monk retires to his straw bed in peace. Often the miracles of the day and the goodness of God fill the mind; the monk is reminded that he is the Lord’s, even in his sleep.
Many do not know there is a monastery in Wyoming where the Carmelite life is kept alive in a tradition at least a thousand years old, but this is that hidden life of prayer and penance. The Carmelite life is ultimately one of praise of the Lord, for the Carmelite desires nothing other than that God and His Immaculate Mother might be more praised. Take heart in the prayers of Wyoming’s Carmelite monks for they are the prayer warriors. Night and day this ancient life of loving praise continues behind the monastery walls, a wellspring of peace and grace for the entire Church and its many labors. At last, Wyoming has her monks.
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