Nick the Pilot
Well-Known Member
http://www.nytimes.com/2011/08/14/us/14monks.html?_r=1&src=rechp
RICHARDTON, N.D. — The lowing of cattle seemed a perfect prelude to the chants and hymns that followed at evening prayers, an unlikely pairing of soothing sounds that the monks of Assumption Abbey say they will miss.
For 51 years, Brother Placid Gross has tended the 1,900-acre ranch that has helped to define this Benedictine monastery in the crumpled hills of western North Dakota, providing only modest income, perhaps, but a rich connection to the earth as the monks go about their days of prayer and humble work.
But at 76, this wrangler-monk can no longer do the strenuous work required by a herd of 155 black angus cows, 155 calves and 8 bulls. Even with the help of a few colleagues, he cannot manage the cycles of baling hay in summer, nurturing cows through bitter winters, birthing and sometimes bottle-feeding calves in frigid early spring, and repairing fences and rounding up the herd, which is done these days on a small all-terrain vehicle rather than a horse.
Younger monks are scarce anyway, and none feel this calling. “They’re not cattlemen,” Brother Placid says. “They’re more interested in the intellectual stuff.” Hiring outsiders to do the work would be prohibitively expensive and out of synchrony with the “work and pray” mandate of the Benedictine order.
(cont.)
RICHARDTON, N.D. — The lowing of cattle seemed a perfect prelude to the chants and hymns that followed at evening prayers, an unlikely pairing of soothing sounds that the monks of Assumption Abbey say they will miss.
For 51 years, Brother Placid Gross has tended the 1,900-acre ranch that has helped to define this Benedictine monastery in the crumpled hills of western North Dakota, providing only modest income, perhaps, but a rich connection to the earth as the monks go about their days of prayer and humble work.
But at 76, this wrangler-monk can no longer do the strenuous work required by a herd of 155 black angus cows, 155 calves and 8 bulls. Even with the help of a few colleagues, he cannot manage the cycles of baling hay in summer, nurturing cows through bitter winters, birthing and sometimes bottle-feeding calves in frigid early spring, and repairing fences and rounding up the herd, which is done these days on a small all-terrain vehicle rather than a horse.
Younger monks are scarce anyway, and none feel this calling. “They’re not cattlemen,” Brother Placid says. “They’re more interested in the intellectual stuff.” Hiring outsiders to do the work would be prohibitively expensive and out of synchrony with the “work and pray” mandate of the Benedictine order.
(cont.)