Richardton, ND 58652

April 2008

MONASTIC RECREATION: I

by Terrence Kardong, O.S.B.

     At our recent visitation, an interesting dialogue occurred at the recessus or closing meeting. In the question and answer period, someone asked the visitators what they thought about our recreation. The reference was not to just any recreation, but monastic recreation. They suggested that we seem to have a pretty decent recreation practice in our monastery, or at least better than that in their own monasteries. Since the questioner, actually the author of this article, was thinking that our recreation was pretty lame, he was disappointed to hear that it is even worse in other places.

     For those who have never lived in a monastery, recreation is a period, usually taking place right after meals, when the monks gather to enjoy each others’ presence. In most of our monasteries there is a short period after lunch and a longer one after supper when this exercise occurs in the schedule. There is a great deal of variety in what can take place during recreation, but what is constant is that it is a time for relaxation and camaraderie. It is not a time for prayer or for work, and if some people are busy at those exercises during this time, they are out of the mainstream.

     Someone who wishes to study the background to monastic recreation is going to have a hard time of it. To start with, St. Benedict never mentions recreation in his Rule for Monks. When he presents his schedule for the day in RB 48, there is no place where one can fit in recreation. We can assume that the ancient monks did not always pray and work, and that they communicated, but we don’t know when and how. Still, the Rule assumes that people are talking to each other, since it tells them to quiet down at certain times like during Lent and during lectio divina.

     If we try to locate the beginning of recreation in Benedictine history, we are hard pressed. All I can say is that when I came to the monastery in 1956, recreation was in full swing and no one ever suggested that it was a new practice. I am sure that the Swiss monks brought it over from the old country in the 19th century. And knowing the Swiss, it was probably already an ancient custom in places like Einsiedeln and Engelberg. I would not be surprised if it goes back at least to the Middle Ages, but I don’t know.

     When we call recreation a monastic practice, we must admit that it is not exactly an indispensable part of monastic practice. For example, the Trappists, who are certainly monks, do not have recreation. They don’t have recreation rooms like we do, and they don’t have a regular period for recreation in their schedule. What is more, one runs into Benedictine monks who claim that their monastery does not have recreation. Recently I asked a member of one of the biggest (and best) monasteries in the country about the fate of recreation in his house. He said they simply do not have recreation at all. Now I know they have a television room, and I know they sometimes play cards, but I did not press the point.

     But you also hear the exact opposite from some monks. Once I visited a certain monastery where I had a friend. During recreation, I asked one of the other monks where my friend was hanging out. He said that this man never appeared at recreation. And then he added a rather stunning statement: “No one can be a monk of X without coming to recreation.” This from a senior monk at one of the most respected monasteries in the country. That statement contained a whole world of meaning and feeling.

A Monastic Exercise

     When we call recreation a monastic “exercise,” what do we mean? It is listed on our horarium with other exercises like Morning Prayer and Midday Lunch. But does that mean it is mandatory like the other exercises? If recreation is simply relaxation, then it does sound a bit odd to require people to take part. One time we had a community meeting where we attempted to discuss recreation, but the whole thing was torpedoed by one of the monks who declared that “mandatory enjoyment” is a contradiction in terms. You can’t command people to have fun. But this also raises the question as to just how optional one can make things before they completely fall apart.

     To hear tell, recreation has indeed fallen apart in many monasteries in this country. Without studying individual cases, we can fairly easily guess why. The root cause is individualism, but there are also specific causes of erosion. For example, television does not help things. If monks have TVs in their rooms, then they are almost certainly a cause of division, not unity. It is possible, however, for a group of people to watch television in a communal manner, with a certain amount of interaction. Another divisive factor is the computer and especially the internet. Again, people can communicate by this means, but in the monastery it generally isolates us from each other.

     There is still the question of how to spend recreation if one does bother to come. Some people like to play cards and board games. Since I don’t participate in these games, I can only say that it appears that the people who do so enjoy each other. Such games offer a medium of communication that is in itself quite impersonal, but which still allows people to express themselves. Actually, even group projects can provide a rather helpful medium for communal recreation. We used to laugh at the stories of the nuns who shelled peas during recreation. But in our community we sometimes stuff envelopes as a group, and it seems to be a pretty good vehicle for group fun.

     Perhaps the most obvious form of recreation is simply conversation. For monks to sit down and talk to each other on a regular basis is what recreation is all about. It is the best way to keep in touch with each other, to find out what others are thinking and doing. And obviously it is a way to express yourself. Now, conversation is an art, and some people have not learned it. Maybe it is something you learn at home, or at least in school, but it is a basic human skill. It could be that most monks are not very good at it. A Trappist once told me that he thought that his Order basically attracted people who did not know how to converse and did not want to learn how. So it would not have helped to have a recreation period because nothing would have happened. Since he himself was a rather poor conversationalist, I could well believe him. It could also be that some monks do not like recreation because they do not like the other monks very much. Not all is peace and joy in our communities.

     Although the ancient monastic rules sometimes suggest that conversation among monks is not a good thing, most modern writers and thinkers do not agree. One time I was visiting a famous monastery deep in the Apennine Mountains of Italy. This place had a reputation of being quite austere, so I was rather surprised to discover that the monks spent a lot of time talking to each other. There was conversation at all meals and there was also a lengthy “dialogue homily” at the Mass. I was curious about the situation, so I asked the abbot, who was also a well-known monastic writer. He said that for six months of the year his monastery, which is located in a deep ravine, is buried in deep shadows. Apparently this had a way of causing depression in the monks, which the superior thought could be warded off by good communication. He said: “With us, it was either communicate or die!”

Recreation around the World

     It could be that we have not thought very hard about what could improve our recreation. Since I have had the opportunity to travel fairly widely, let me mention some interesting things I have seen in other countries. First let’s take France. The only French recreations I attended were in the Subiaco Congregation. When we first sat down, I thought it might be a chapter meeting, since the abbot sat at the front and did most of the talking. Finally I figured out that he was discussing the day’s events and also some of the mail he had received. Pretty soon the monks started chiming in and things got lively. At the end of the hour, it was evident to me that a great deal of communication had taken place.

     In the English Congregation, the chairs are arranged in a perfect circle. When I saw that my heart fell, since it looked like a pretty rigid structure. But in fact it was great. Everybody got a little cup of coffee and tea. Then you sat down and talked to the person on your right or left. It was strictly one to one and it was quite intimate. There was no shouting across the circle, just quiet, gentle chatter at close range. Perhaps it could be painful if you had to sit next to your nemesis, but maybe it just teaches people to relate to whomever sits next to them.

     The most surprising monastic recreation I ever experienced took place in the Netherlands. I was staying in a rather austere monastery that did not even own a car. And the meals were anything but lavish. But on Sunday evening we all went into the recreation room and—everybody lit up a big cigar! It was like the picture on the cover of the Dutch Master box with all these burghers puffing their stogies. I don’t suppose this custom has survived the recent crusade against smoking, but while it lasted there was something heartwarming about it. It said to me that these fellows may be austere and cloistered monks, but they are still Dutchmen! And they still know how to enjoy each other.

     Another memorable recreation I saw took place in the south of Italy. It was the height of a torrid summer, so the monks sat outside to catch the evening breeze. But not all of them were sedentary. Under the lights, some of them were playing a game of bocce. This game, which is popular all over the Mediterranean, involves lobbing steel balls in a manner something like shuffleboard. I don’t understand the rules, but by the sound of it, the Italians were greatly enjoying themselves.

     Of course, recreation becomes a somewhat different proposition when it is held outdoors. We used to do it this way at Richardton in the old days before we got a nice, cool community room. Certainly, being outdoors gives you a good deal of flexibility, especially for strolling. People usually do this one on one, but not always. For example, in the Brazilian Congregation they used to walk in groups of four, with two facing forwards and two facing backwards. For an uninformed observer, this could be puzzling. The monastery in Sao Paolo was next to a tall skyscraper from which people could look right down into the monks’ courtyard. Sometimes they would get telephone calls asking what on earth those men were doing walking backwards.

     Where you have a lot of young, vigorous monks, recreation can take some pretty strenuous forms. When we had dozens of monks under forty, we used to play volleyball on the warm summer evenings. We would then process into the Choir Office without having time to shower, so the Office was a rather fragrant affair. Some communities have pool tables in the rec room, but not all monks know how to play that game properly. Once in Italy I witnessed a community playing pool without cues. I don’t know if the cues were broken or whether they never heard of them, but they were just rolling the balls around by hand, and a lot of them were going on the floor.

     Actually, games and diversions during recreation were not unknown even in the strictest enclosed convents in the old days. In her new book entitled Nuns, Convent Life in 1450-1700, Sylvia Evangelisti describes a flourishing culture of dramatic production among the convents. Although these nuns did not perform “in public,” they did invite their families and other visitors into the monastic parlor to witness their performances. The actual staging took place behind the grill, and it could be elaborate, with costumes and stage props. These plays were generally about religious topics and they were written by the nuns.

     In our own Abbey at Richardton, Christmas time used to see the production of plays and skits by the various groups in the house. Fr. Albert Hannan, who was the Brother Master, was also himself a great wit and a literary man. He would write the skits and direct the performance. One year the brothers had a chorus, which did not entirely please Fr. Albert because they sang flat. “A little higher, a little higher” he exhorted. At that point Bro. Martin Heier came running into the room, asking who was calling him. Not all the jokes were as good as this one, but the skits certainly livened up the holiday season.

(To be continued)

Editor: Terrence Kardong, OSB Assumption Abbey Newsletter PO Box A, Richardton, ND 58652 www.assumptionabbey.com

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