Wim Haan
Twice
a year a group of employees from the Vrije Universiteit in Amsterdam travel to
the small Belgian town of Brecht for a short stay at the Nazareth Abby, a
monastic community of Trappist nuns. For most this is their first introduction
to life in a monastery. It is an introduction not only to a different belief
structure but also a completely different lifestyle. A life with different
priorities, its own rhythm and focus. The time spent there, from late Friday
afternoon to Sunday afternoon is short but leaves a deep impression on many.
People often decide to come a second or third time and sometimes individuals
decide to stay for a few days by themselves.
In
the monastery people find something which they seem to have lost in their hectic
everyday lives. As a guest in the monastery you are confronted with a very
elementary way of dealing with life. Core words are simplicity, austerity, peace
and quiet.
Paradoxically,
a growing interest in monastic life has come at a time when an increasingly
ageing population has led to big problems in many communities. Their ability to
support themselves is being put under increasing pressure. For a number of
monasteries the end is near.
Monasteries
in, out and with time: a description of monastic life viewed from the
perspective of history, the present and future may enable us to gain a greater
understanding of how these two polar forces an increasing interest in the
monastic community and the declining numbers of brothers and sisters who are
members of that community are related.
Before
we focus on the importance of monastic life, a short introduction to the past,
present and future of that life is in order. This is important because it is, in
my opinion, impossible to write about monastic life in purely objective terms.
You yourself become a part of this life, especially when you are a regular guest
in a monastic community.
Stranger
in Paradise, is the title of a book
written by the now deceased (1996) Henri Nouwen. In his book he describes his
experiences while staying for seven months in a Trappist monastery in the United
States. The title characterises my own introduction to monastic life very well.
My religious roots lie within a critical section of the Catholic Church.
Religious commitment was principally translated into social involvement.
Standing up for the underdog at the bottom of society, for the marginalized
fellow human being. Oscar Romero and Dom Helder Camara were the great models.
Seen from this perspective, monastic life was completely alien to me. There was
even a certain aversion to anything that entailed a degree of unwordlyness,
which is a little bit anti-social, detaching yourself in this way from social
life and withdrawing to an island of peace and quiet. Approximately twenty years
ago I began to take an interest in new religious movements, which are in their
own unique way a form of counter-movement. They are a heterogeneous
collection, each radically committed to a spiritual goal, which is widely
considered by society to be weird or even dangerous.
My
first introduction to monastic life was, to a large extent, coincidental. I was
in search of a quiet location where I would be able to spend fourteen days
studying the First World War and the German artist Käthe Kollwitz; a subject I
was to write an article about. It was July 1995, and the monasteries where this
first introduction took place are the Trappist abbies of Westmalle and
Westvleteren.
You
find yourself standing rather uncomfortably in front of a monastery gate with
NO TOURISTS printed across the door. After some time a brother opens the
gate. Short stays in monasteries are in such high demand that an early
reservation is required. I answer his questioning look with the message that I
will be staying at the monastery as a guest; the large gate opens; I am directed
to a building within the monastery walls, the guest lodgings, where the brother
in charge of guests waves the sceptre.
Immediately there exists a feeling of entering a different another world. A
world with its own rhythm, traditions, rules and rituals.
The weeks I spent in the monasteries
were productive in the sense that afterwards the framework of an article about
Kollwitz and the First World War had been realised. The weeks were also
confrontational. A monastery is more than a place to study; if you want your
study rhythm to coincide somewhat with that of life in the monastery it is
impossible to isolate yourself from the pace of work and prayer that regulates
the monks life. The regular interaction with the prayer times of the monks
provided something extra. Firstly, the articles title became Two tracks: A
Monastery and the Great War so that in addition to Kathe Kollwitz and the
First World War a dimension of monastic life was incorporated. I also kept a
monastery diary, where by way of a discussion with myself, I documented direct
observations and experiences that made an impression on me during my stay.
Now, five years and numerous visits later, I look back at this diary with a
certain degree of embarrassment. It is more of a journalistic ego document than
an insightful report of time spent in a monastery. I lack depth and respect. A
journalistic approach, which fails to break through a superficial level, does
not do justice to the monks. A light heartedly written diary, with a few
witticisms here and there, also fails to convey what exactly happens to you as a
guest in a monastery.
I would be exaggerating if I were to call Brechts Trappist community my
second home but a regular visit there has certainly become a part of my lifes
rhythm. By taking a step back from hectic everyday life, you give yourself the
opportunity to formulate a conscious opinion about that aspect of life. A place
which teaches you how to put things into perspective, but also leaves room for
bewilderment and annoyance at the so-called self-evidence of university life.
I will quickly move on to the subject of this text. I will start with a short
consideration of that which provides insight into the present: the past, or
better still the roots of monastic life.
It
is really not possible to go into the history of monasticism all too deeply in a
short article about The Monastic Rhythm of Life. Such an article would
also fail to produce new insights. Much has been written about the rise (and
fall) of monastic life, not least because of its great importance to the history
of both the church and culture of our western civilization. I refer in
particular to the works of Filips de Cloedt, Jean-François Leroux-Dhuys en
Louis Lekai listed at the end of this article.
An understanding of the present cannot be achieved however without a
short introduction to the beginnings of monasticism.
One could assert that monastic life is timeless. It is not only in the
Christian tradition, but also in that of Buddhism and Hinduism that it is
customary for some to withdraw into isolation so as to achieve spiritual growth
through a confrontation with the inner self. It was Jesus who set the example by
withdrawing into the desert in order to come to terms with himself and his
mission.
So we see that in the first centuries of the Christian calendar monks
were already withdrawing into the desert. Initially these were hermits,
individuals living in loneliness and isolation, but soon afterwards also coenobites,
monks who lived in communities. Around the year 300 the formation of monk
settlements is seen in many places.
People living together, in a community, quickly required the
establishment of some form of regulation. Even though the period between 300 and
500 provides us with all kinds of rules and descriptions of monastic life,
Benedict of Nursia (who lived approximately between 480 and 547) is still
considered to be the father of western monk hood. It was he who drafted the Rule
which to this day, is still used as the basis and tenet of monastic life. Much
of what I will be writing in the following paragraphs about time and how it is
spent in a monastery can be traced back to Benedicts Rule. Many aspects of
monastic life are dealt with in this short book. At the start of the Rule the
spiritual outlines of monastic life are sketched. Subsequently, various issues,
which have to do with the organization of the Monastery, are dealt with. Many
chapters focus on liturgical matters, the core of a monks existence.
Anyone investigating contemporary (contemplative) monastic life will see
that the Rule published around the year 500, is still almost literally applied.
People often ask themselves how it is possible that such an ancient text should
be so relevant to the present day?
The Rule sets a clear norm for monastic life, without getting too
entwined in details. It also allows the abbot to have a great deal of freedom in
the way he applies and interprets it. Inner discipline, detachment and obedience
are key words. The striking thing about the Rule is its humanity. The monk is
not squeezed into a straitjacket but is allowed to develop himself as a unique
brother, there is a great respect for his own inclinations and moods.
In addition to obedience and stability, the latter being the vow to bind
oneself to the local monastic community, there is also the poverty-ideal, acting
as a buttress to monastic life. Without poverty the monk is not really able to
free himself from material ties and become detached. The image of Christ stands
at the centre of a monasterys life, everything must emulate from it. He is
the source of monastic existence. The love that Jesus felt for his Godly father
is both the origin and the final goal of a monk: that love must also be his own
highest fulfilment.
Now, by having taken the time to consider the beginnings, Benedict and
his order, the discussion that follows will be easier to comprehend. Much that
took place in monastic life later on in history is related either directly or
indirectly to how the Rule was followed or strayed from.
After all, the history of monasticism is one of peaks and troughs.
Successive stages that connect prosperity, decline and critical reform through
the ages.
In the long history of monasticism there are two reformations that are of
vital importance. The first is the rise of Cluny, an Order that dominated
monastery life in Western Europe from 1000, for two and half centuries. One of
the most important gains of Cluny was the break from political influence and
dominance. Monastic life once again became an autonomous phenomenon free from
the interference of kings and emperors. Cluny is also often hailed for its
contribution to cultural history. Cluny has always been a centrally controlled
Order with one Abbot at its head. At its peak, Cluny counted approximately 800
Monasteries in France, Germany, Spain, England and Ireland. It was also at some
point, as a result of gifts and income earned from vast land estates, a powerful
force to be reckoned with. The power of the Cluny abbot was comparable to that
of popes and kings. The Benedictine poverty-ideal was a distant memory. Work no
longer figured in the life of a monk of Cluny. The whole day was spent on prayer,
from early morning to late in the evening.
The establishment of the Citeaux order can be considered a reaction to
the developments of Cluny. The founder, Robert van Molesme initially was
considered to be a modernist whose aim was to rigorously reinstate the
Benedictine Rule. The reformation of Citeaux re-emphasized the poverty-ideal and
with that also the labour of the monks.
The Monastery of Citeaux, established in 1098, is the birthplace of the
Cistercian movement and therefore also that of the Trappists whose rhythm of
life will be the focus of the mid section of this article. Bernard van Clairvaux
is the single person who had the most profound influence on Cistercian history
and consequently on the history of western monasticism. His contribution was,
without a doubt, vital to the rapid development of the Cistercian movement.
Spiritual renewal was the Cistercians greatest motivation. In this
context renewal, as I pointed out above, means a return to the source.
Their intention, at a time where Monk hood had become corrupted by Clunys
success and the resulting relationships with worldly leaders, was to live their
lives based, completely and literally on the Rule of Benedict.
Decay
and Resurrection
My leap through history leaves me no choice but to skip a few
centuries. So now, we find ourselves at the beginning of the 16th
century when the multinational organism consisting of hundreds of abbeys,
which the Cistercian Order had become under the guidance of Bernard van
Clairvaux, fell into decay. Between
1600 and 1759 we see, in effect, the complete destruction of western European
monastic life: war, reformation, the French revolution and the rule of the
enlightened German monarch Josef II all contributed to this decline.
Abbeys were destroyed; monks driven from their homes or even killed and whole
Orders eliminated.
Only small groups of monks who managed to flee in time survived.
Augustine de Lestrange (1754-1827) was one of them. Lestrange was a student of
Armand le Bouthillier de Rancé (1664-1700), an abbot of the French abbey La
Trappe, who had pushed for a new reformation within the Cistercian Order at the
beginning of the 18th century. This reformation had also had a
rigorous, uncompromising return to the Rule of Benedict as its principal
objective. The Belgium monastery Westmalle (and various institutions which
originated there) follows this tradition. De Rancé and Lestrange caused a split
within the Cistercian community that still exists today. In addition to
Cistercians of the regular observance there are the Cistercians of the strict
observance, also known as Trappists.
I have now placed monastic life within the dimension of time. Nonetheless,
much has been omitted, I could for example, have said much more about the
important role played by monks in maintaining and safeguarding our western
European cultural heritage. It is sometimes said that without monks the
evolution of art would have ended in the Middle Ages; that Mozart would not have
had the sources from which he drew his creative inspiration. But now we are
digressing.
Back on track.
The second dimension of time in monastic life: the daily timetable and the
spending of time, in its most direct form.
Human life, like all life, takes place moving from inner to outer, and
from outer to inner. There is a degree of interaction between these two states,
they are interdependent and in tune with each other. You could look at time in a
comparable way. A human being and therefore also a monk, does not allocate his/her
time or choose what to do, and when, arbitrarily. Spiritual life cannot be
isolated from the body. The body has a certain rhythm of sleep and being awake,
day and night, morning and evening, spring and autumn, and those who want to
gain the most from their body must learn to take these natural laws into
account. That it is easier for the spirit to obey if the body is allowed to
follow its own rhythm is clear. This common belief lies at the core of the
monastic schedule.
Monks not only want their lifes rhythm to coincide with that of the
bodys biorhythm but also with special religious events, in particular those
from the life of Jesus. There exists a close relationship between events that
took place in his life and the hours of the day and night. It is said for
example, that the fact that Jesus preferred praying in the evening, that he was
betrayed in the night, that he hung from the cross and died in the afternoon and
finally, that he rose from the dead in the morning, cannot just be a coincidence.
Now let us return to the daily timetable. The day commences at four
thirty am with a night vigil. There are also monasteries that perform the night
vigil even earlier at three or even two thirty. The night vigil is seen to be a
time of monastic prayer. Indeed, there has never been a time when night prayer
and the vigil were not a part of monastic life. This is also connected, in no
small measure, to the fact that a close relationship exists between the mystery
of the night and the mystery of monastic life.
The
Mystery of the Night
The night is
inextricably linked to human life. While asleep, a person falls into a sub
consciousness state, in which his mind is innovative and alive, but he is
unable to directly access this source of creativity. A commonly heard proverb
suggests that when you do not know how to deal with a certain situation you
should sleep on it. The next morning the solution is clear. This is
because subconsciously you have been considering the situation all night.
Not only do we humans live a different subconscious life during the night
but the conscious reality of the night is also different. Many problems
that bother us during the day are not present at night, they cannot force
themselves upon us while we sleep, they are out of sight. The atmosphere at
night is completely different. Many writers work at night. This has something to
do with the fact that at night we feel closer to a certain profundity in our
existence. It is the profundity from which we draw our insight and knowledge.
According to the monks, it is in this sphere that God is present. When in search
of God we must leave behind the light, the day, the territory of humans, in
order to enter the night.
According to the scriptures and oral tradition the night is also the
battleground of good and evil. Evil powers surface alongside the good. All the
more reason to be aware of the evil that may lurk hidden behind an illusion of
good at night. It is for this reason that people have been praying at night
since the beginning of time.
Finally, there is the burdensome aspect of nightly prayer. For the
Cistercians, the night mass, together with work and fasting, is considered to be
the most trying part of a monks life. The monks leave the comfort of sleep
and must battle to overcome their exhaustion until sunrise.
In conclusion, the night vigil is the most meaningful period within the
monks daily schedule. It is full of symbolic meaning but is also to a certain
extent, the cross which they must bear, the price they must pay for their
contemplative life.
At the start of this section I spoke somewhat cryptically about the
mystery of the night and the mystery of monasticism. The nights
paradoxical nature might serve to illustrate one aspect of this so-called
mystery; on the one hand it is a source of creativity and proximity to God but
on the other, it is the cross to be borne and the exhaustion to be
overcome.
After the
night vigil the monks remain in complete silence. This is only part of a longer
period of silence, which commences after the evenings compline and ends after
the Eucharist in the morning.
At a quarter to seven there are the lauds. The days second hour of
prayer. It is the moment of twilight and dawn. It is a symbol of the battle
between light and dawn, which the monk wages within himself. This is also the
subject of the psalms sung during the lauds.
Right after the lauds there is the celebration of the Eucharist. It is of
crucial importance to monks that Jesus is the source of their community. For the
monastic community, like the primordial community of Jerusalem, the offering of
the bread is essential. Every time
the bread is broken and the wine drunk, the monks form a community, this ritual
serves to unite them each time again, with God and each other. The celebration
of the Eucharist is the peak of the monks day. The monk has a strong symbolic
relationship with the Eucharist celebration. The eternal pledge, the vow to
remain celibate forever, to adhere to the Rule, the vow of stability and finally,
the oath of obedience, are all made during the celebration of the Eucharist. The
signed profession-document is laid upon the altar where the Eucharist is
celebrated. The blood of Christ seals the bond. Core monastic concepts that are
linked with the Eucharist are contemplation, prayer, community and solitude. The
vows that the monks take during the ceremony, completely surrendering themselves
to God, also have a lot to do with the symbolism of the Eucharist.
Ora et
labora. Prayer and work
The next hour
of prayer is the Terce at 9.25 am. The hours of prayer are divided throughout
the day so that a monk is never occupied with work longer than three consecutive
hours. This ensures that he is constantly reminded of the real meaning of life:
eternal prayer. The Terce is the first of the so-called Little Hours. It takes
place at the hour of the Holy Ghosts descent upon the primordial community of
Jerusalem at Easter. Here again, the symbolism of the Holy Ghost is closely
associated with monastic life: one definition of a monk is a man drawn from the
soul of the Holy Ghost. The Holy Ghost is considered to be the origin of
monastic life. Benedict himself expresses this aptly at the end of his chapter
on humility. For monks, humility means fear and the cross. But, through the Holy
Ghost, all of this is borne and executed with joy.
The Terce is followed by
labour. In the Trappist monastery at Brecht the
work is shared between approximately forty sisters. Some of them occupy
themselves with the preparation of soap, one of Brechts most important
products. Others work in the sewing workshops, where they manufacture, among
other things; togas worn by priests and religious dignitaries. Finally, there
are all kinds of domestic chores to be done on the farm and in their extensive
flower and vegetable garden.
The life of monks and nuns differentiates itself from so-called active
life not only because of the kind of work they do, but in particular because
they incorporate the principle of vacare deo, to be free for God, into
their jobs. At the sounding of the bells the monks immediately leave their work
and make haste to church for the hour of prayer.
At 12.15, it is time for the second Little Hour of prayer, the Sext. This
time of day is particularly trying for the monks. After eight hours of activity,
exhaustion and all its consequences are felt. According to oral tradition, it is
at this time of day that the afternoon devil harasses the monk. It is also
at this time that Christ hung from the cross. The symbolism of the Sext is
connected to this: Christ demonstrated to the world that persevering to the end
is the way to salvation. For the monks this also applies: if they sustain they
will be saved. Whoever perseveres, remains faithful to the office and emerges
from trying times standing tall, he too shall find salvation.
After the Sext, the nuns partake of the afternoon meal in the refectory.
During the meal one of the nuns reads from religious texts. One text from the
Bible, a short piece from the Rule of Benedict and a passage from a book that
deals with a spiritual theme. The Trappists are vegetarians out of a respect for
all living beings and for sobrietys sake. The meal is plain.
The third of the Little Hours, the Noon, is at 14.15. Afterwards its
back to work.
The vespers are at 17.15. They are celebrated when night is near and the
day is coming to an end. It is a mass of gratitude for all the positive things
that have happened, all the things that have come to a just conclusion. The
salvation of mankind is also remembered at this point. To emphasize the monks
hope to see the light, much prayer is devoted to a return of the light, to the
return of Christ, who will, mercifully, grant us eternal light.
This hour is also dedicated to the mother of God, Mary. According to
catholic tradition it was at this moment, after everything had been done, that
she held her dead son on her lap. The Vespers are closed with silence.
After the Vespers it is time for the evening meal. The half hour between
the meal and the Compline, the days closing mass, is often dedicated to the
daily congregation. A communal reading or recital in the hall of congregation in
the monastery.
At 19.30 it is time for the Compline, the days closing ceremony. At the
end of the Compline the Salve Regina is sung. The monasterys church is
dimmed with the only light coming from a single candle and a spotlight pointed
at the Holy Marys statue. Mary is the patron of the Cistercian Order. All
Cistercian churches are dedicated to her. This central role is principally
thanks to Bernard van Clairvaux. For God all people, both man and woman, are in
a receptive state. Mary was the prime receptive being. It was van Clairvauxs
conviction that to God all people must be like Mary and allow Him to enter their
lives.
Observations
Now, the third part of my narrative: time experienced as liturgical
time. The problem with this section is that a discussion of time in a
monastery is almost always futile because many aspects of monastic life are
connected to the mystery which I spoke of at the beginning of this article.
Rational accounts are often coloured by our own preconceptions and points of
reference. The entirely different perception of time, can only be experienced
in the flesh by staying at a monastery. From the moment of entry until the
day you leave the monastery and go back to the worries of daily life. The
tension between the monastery and normal life is still felt several days
after your departure. How is one to discuss such an experience in generalised
digestible terms?
I shall try nonetheless. By articulating a few of my own experiences that
I documented during my various stays at monastic communities as random notes,
and also by drawing from others who have collected their experiences and
published a book.
I myself, experienced the various times I stayed in a
monastery, with
mixed feelings. The peace and tranquillity of a monastery is often so contrary
to my own life that the silence prompts a great deal of turmoil within myself.
The wave-like rhythm of monastic life does make the day more productive however.
It sounds strange, but still, I noticed time and again that the alteration
between work and prayer increased their clarity and concentration.
It is sometimes difficult in a
monastery to switch off your own
spectators perspective, to ignore the small imperfections, false tones in
the singing of psalms and clumsy recital of texts. But there is never a visit
without moments of poignancy, when the small things that are rare and different
on the outside happen. The
attention and care, the friendliness and awareness, the simplicity without airs,
the positive attitude. The unusual, sometimes mysterious combination of
enterprise and calm. Time does not drag in a monastery, the opposite is true.
Every time I am surprised how quickly my stay comes to an end, before you know
it you are saying goodbye to the guest sister.
The
Mystery once more
To end this section I will leave you with three authors who, in my
opinion, have done a good job of articulating the somewhat mysterious nature of
monastic life. I start with Henri Nouwen who brings the following to the fore in
his conclusion: Why did I go? Because there was an inner necessity
which I answered positively. And why did I stay? Because I knew I was in the
right place and nobody said otherwise. And why was I there? Im not exactly
sure yet. Perhaps I wont know until I come to the end of lifes road. Still,
I can say that theyre unbelievably valuable memories, which influence all
that I do and plan to do. I cannot live without being reminded of that glimpse
of Gods mercy I caught in my loneliness, of that light ray which broke
through my darkness, of that soft voice which spoke in my silence and the soft
breeze, which touched me from behind. Still, this experience does not only bring
back rich memories from the past. Again and again it gives me new insight into
present-day events and leads me in my decisions for the future. These memories
are always present, in my compulsive behaviour, in my passion, my illusions and
unreal visions, they unmask the false dreams and point me in the right direction.(227-228)
Karin Armstrong writes the following in the epilogue of her book Through
a narrow gate: In the Order I discovered that we are complex beings and
that the spirit, soul and body are constantly involved in a bloody battle. One
of the most important things I learned in the monastery was the relative
impotence of the human will. This realisation is good but it does humble you. It
also liberating in a way. I am a better nun now than I ever was in the monastery.
You can be so fearful of loving other people more than God that you become
loveless
Ironically enough, now I sometimes see within myself, the
characteristics of detachment and independence which I had such problems
acquiring when I was a nun (p.317)
And finally Kathleen Norris, a Benedictine oblate (associated member of
the Order) I should try to explain to my friends, who have such difficulties
understanding why I spend so much time with the Benedictines in the church, that
I do it for the same reasons that I write: to allow words to sow the earth of my
heart. To sing, to read poetry and to have the Bibles savage stories read to
me. To join others in answering in blessed silence. (p.158) And the daily
cycle of monastic life the coming of day, going to the church, meals, the
evening, sleep are all marked by the Liturgy of Hours. But other important
moments of arrival and departure to the noviciate, to the first vow and
subsequently the eternal vows, to a new home in an independent monastery on the
other side of the world, to a silver or golden monastery jubilee, to a wake, to
a funeral are marked by very special and solemn rituals. With a monastery in
the background even events that are considered by the world to be commonplace
are often sanctified. (p. 378) The final quote: I have often had the
unusual feeling that the monastery is the real world, while the merciless world
that we call real, is actually fabricated, an illusion that we cling to
because it appears to be in our self-interest. The true city, the holy city,
offers us, as articulated by Paul Philibert, an alternative vision of human
relationships where beauty is worth more than financial gain, where friendship
is more valuable than privilege and where solidarity for a common vision of
human dignity is more riveting than self-realization. (p.387)
A few comments about the future, an a component of time that cant be avoided
in a discussion of monastic life.
Really, you can only talk about the future in one of two ways. Either,
with concern (concentrating on ageing, limited callings, monasteries being
closed due to a lack of monks), or without it (looking to an increasing interest
in monastery visits, the growth of the Order in none western countries, the
history of monasticism which is characterized by decline and recovery)
Personally, I opt for the hopeful version.
Too much worry about the future does not aid the present. Thankfully that
is the attitude which I found in the monasteries I visited over the past few
years. This is not to say that the monks are ignoring so-called reality but it
does show that hope and faith offer more solace than focusing on the future with
feelings of dread.
In practical terms, some monasteries make an effort to promote
rejuvenation by moving the older brothers and sisters into different homes.
Often there is such a large generation gap between the youths and the older
monks that a new expansion is close to impossible in an antiquated monastic
community.
Perhaps in the future it will become common, like in other cultures, that
men and women, after having led an active working life, withdraw into a
contemplative, aesthetic life so as to prepare for death. In Hinduism this is
very common.
New forms of community, based on, and inspired by Cistercian ideals have
already been considered and even realised in some countries. Perhaps, it would
also be a challenge to set up communes next to monasteries. There might be a
reciprocal fertilization process, which could help both prosper.
Really scepticism is not necessary in a discussion of the future of
monasteries. If a phenomenon has survived fifteen hundred years of collapse and
revival and weathered it all: why should it now, all of a sudden, in a time
where the need for spirituality is more rife than ever before, why should it
come to an end now?
Armstrong, Karen, Door de nauwe poort. Mijn zeven kloosterjaren een spirituele ontdekkingsreis, Amsterdam, 1997 (Anthos).
Claerhout, Bert, Een leven van liefde. Cisterciënzers in de lage landen op weg naar de 21e eeuw, Tielt, 1999 (Lannoo).
Cloedt, Filips de (edt.), Benedictus. Symbol abendländischer Kultur, Stuttgart, 1997 (Belser).
De regel van Sint Benedictus, vertaald door F. Vromen, Slangenburg 1989.
Grün, Anselm & Christiane Sartorius, Den Himmel zur Ehre Der Erde zum Zeichen. Menschliches Reifen in Ordensleben, Freiburg, 1997 (Herder).
Kloster Mariawald. Glauben um zu sehen sehen um zu glauben, Mariawald, 1991.
Lekai, Louis J., De orde van Citeaux. Cisterciënzers en trappisten. Idealen en werkelijkheid, Achel, 1980.
Leroux-Dhuys, Jean-François, Cisterciënzer Abdijen. Geschiedenis en architectuur, Köln, 1999 (Könemann).
Norris, Kathleen, De Kloostergang, Baarn, 1996 (Ten Have).
Nouwen, Henri, Vreemdeling in het paradijs. Zeven maanden in een trappistenklooster, Tielt, 1997 (Lannoo).
Links
I have gathered all informative links in a 'trappist link portal' on this website. This is the URL: http://www.bezinningscentrum.nl/links/special_links2.shtml