Geoff Bennetto became an Oblate of St. Peter’s Abbey at mass on March 28, 2026 during Oblate Day.

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Based on RB 1980: The Rule of St. Benedict in English (Liturgical Press, 1980)
There is a quiet asceticism buried in the pages of the Rule of Saint Benedict. Written around 540 AD and compiled in its modern scholarly edition as RB 1980, the Rule does not treat Lent as a burden reluctantly endured — it treats it as a gift gratefully received. For Benedict, fasting is not punishment. It is formation. And Lent is not a grim season of deprivation but an invitation to become more fully alive.
The opening line of Chapter 49 (The Observance of Lent) sets the tone with striking directness: “The life of a monk ought to be a continuous Lent. Since few, however, have the strength for this, we urge the entire community during these days of Lent to keep its manner of life most pure.” (RB 1980, 49.1–2)
This is not pessimism — it is realism shot through with mercy. Benedict acknowledges that living at full Lenten intensity year-round is beyond most people. Rather than demanding the impossible, he channels this aspiration into the forty days before Easter, carving out a concentrated season of spiritual renewal for the whole community together.
What makes Benedict’s approach so enduring is its integration of the interior and the exterior. Fasting is never merely about the stomach; it is about the soul. Chapter 49 continues: “During these days, therefore, we will add to the usual measure of our service something by way of private prayer and abstinence from food or drink, so that each of us will have something above the assigned measure to offer God of his own will.” (RB 1980, 49.5–6)
Benedict was no romantic about asceticism. He was deeply practical, and Chapter 41 (The Times for the Brothers’ Meals) makes the physical structure of Lenten fasting concrete. During most of the year, the meal schedule rotates with the seasons — monks eat at noon in summer and at midafternoon in autumn. But in Lent, the rhythm shifts: “From the beginning of Lent to Easter, they eat towards evening.” (RB 1980, 41.7)
This single meal in the evening — after Vespers, the late-afternoon prayer — is the heart of Benedictine Lenten fasting. The monk waits through the entire working day before eating. This is not starvation; it is disciplined delay, a physical act of longing that mirrors the spiritual longing of the season itself. Benedict even adds a practical note of care: the evening meal should be timed “so that there is no need for a lamp while eating, and that everything can be finished by daylight.” (RB 1980, 41.8) Even in austerity, there is tenderness.
Perhaps the most countercultural aspect of Benedict’s teaching on Lenten fasting is its tone. He explicitly warns against performing Lenten practices in a spirit of gloom or self-promotion. Chapter 49 continues: the monks should practice their Lenten disciplines “with joy and the inspiration of the Holy Spirit.” (RB 1980, 49.6) The goal is not suffering for its own sake but arriving at Easter with “the joy of spiritual longing.” (RB 1980, 49.7)
This joy is also why Benedict insists that extra Lenten fasting be done with the abbot’s approval. A monk who decides to fast dramatically on his own — more than the community, making a show of personal piety — risks the sin of pride. “Anything undertaken without the permission of the spiritual father will be reckoned as presumption and vainglory, not deserving a reward.” (RB 1980, 49.8–9) True fasting is humble, communal, and accountable.
From the very beginning of the Rule, fasting appears in a broader list of spiritual tools. Chapter 4 (The Tools for Good Works) lists among the essential instruments of the Christian life: “discipline your body; do not pamper yourself, but love fasting.” (RB 1980, 4.11–13) Fasting is not extraordinary; it is simply one of the ordinary tools that shape a person toward God.
During Lent, those tools are sharpened. More prayer. More scripture reading. Fewer words, less food, and greater attentiveness to the grace that makes all of it possible. Benedict’s Lent is not a self-improvement project — it is a communal preparation for the greatest celebration of the year. Easter does not arrive; it is received. And fasting, practiced with joy and humility, is how we open our hands to receive it.
All quotations are drawn from RB 1980: The Rule of St. Benedict in English, edited by Timothy Fry, O.S.B. (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1980).

From November 2 to 6 , Br. Benedict attended a Visitation Conference at St. John’s Chapter House in Collegeville, Minnesota. The workshop he participated in prepared at least 12 monks from many abbeys to be visitators to 20 abbeys in the American Cassinese Congregation of which we belong. A visitator spends about a week at an abbey interviewing the monks and membeFrom November 2 to 6 , Br. Benedict attended a Visitation Conference at St. John’s Chapter House in Collegeville, Minnesota. The workshop he participated in prepared at least 12 monks from many abbeys to be visitators to 20 abbeys in the American Cassinese Congregation of which we belong. A visitator spends about a week at an abbey interviewing the monks and members and then giving an evaluation, after discussion, to the abbot and to the community. This information is then sent to the abbot president for further evaluation and discussion. Some suggestions are made like, what should happen to retired priests who have just returned to the abbey or how the community could better help the new candidates and novices.rs and then giving an evaluation, after discussion, to the abbot and to the community. This information is then sent to the abbot president for further evaluation and discussion. Some suggestions are made like, what should happen to retired priests who have just returned to the abbey or how the community could better help the new candidates and novices.




Spiritual hunger is more common than people admit.
The man who finds himself lingering after Mass. Who reads theology late at night when he should be sleeping. Who has tried, more than once, to explain to someone else why ordinary life feels somehow insufficient — and given up, because the words don’t quite land.
This kind of hunger is real, and it matters. But it isn’t the same thing as a monastic vocation. Confusing the two is one of the most common sources of difficulty for men in early discernment, and understanding the difference — honestly, without rushing to a conclusion — is where the process has to begin.
Spiritual hunger is the experience of wanting more of God. It drives men toward deeper prayer, toward the sacraments, toward theological reading, toward communities of serious faith. It’s restless by nature, always reaching.
Most practicing Catholic men have experienced some form of it. And it’s genuinely good — the tradition has always understood this longing as a movement of the Holy Spirit, drawing a person toward God. St. Augustine named it as clearly as anyone has: “Our heart is restless, until it repose in Thee.”
But spiritual hunger alone doesn’t determine vocation. It’s the condition that makes discernment possible, not the answer to it. A man with deep spiritual hunger might be called to marriage, to the priesthood, to an active religious order, to a life of serious lay discipleship, or to monastic life. The hunger is the beginning of a question, not the resolution of one.
This matters because many men arrive at the door of monastic discernment primarily on the strength of their longing — and longing, by itself, isn’t enough to sustain the life. What St. Benedict’s Rule describes is demanding in ways that go well beyond spiritual appetite: obedience to an abbot, stability in one place, the friction of close community with ordinary and imperfect people, the slow discipline of a life measured in liturgical hours rather than personal ambitions. Hunger can bring a man to the monastery. Something more specific is required to keep him there.
A vocation to monastic life tends to have a particular character — not dramatic, usually, but specific and persistent.
It returns. You can set it aside, distract yourself, pursue other things. It comes back. Not as an obsession, but as a recurring question that doesn’t fully resolve, even when life is otherwise going well.
It’s drawn toward the particular, not just the general. There’s a difference between wanting “a life dedicated to God” and feeling genuinely attracted to the concrete shape of Benedictine life — the Divine Office prayed seven times a day, the rhythm of ora et labora, the rootedness of stability in one community, in one place. Men with a monastic vocation often find themselves drawn to that specificity before they fully understand it.
It holds up under scrutiny. Remote location. Permanent commitment. Communal obedience. The gradual relinquishment of privacy, autonomy, and many of the things contemporary culture treats as essential. A genuine vocation doesn’t dissolve when you look at the hard parts clearly. It may produce fear — that’s normal — but it doesn’t produce fundamental recoil.
It carries a quality of peace alongside the uncertainty. Not resolution, not certainty, but a kind of groundedness in the question itself. Men often describe it as feeling more like coming home than like making a leap.
None of these are proof. They’re patterns worth noticing — and worth bringing to a spiritual director who can help you see what you might be too close to see clearly yourself.
Honest discernment includes the possibility that monastic life isn’t the answer.
If the primary draw is the idea of monastic life rather than its reality — the beauty of an abbey church, the concept of a life set apart, the appeal of simplicity as an antidote to an exhausting world — it’s worth sitting with that honestly. The Catholic tradition of discernment consistently distinguishes between consolation that leads toward God’s will and consolation that reflects our own desires dressed in spiritual clothing. They can feel similar.
If the call to monastic life arrives primarily as a way out — of a difficult career, a painful season, a life that feels like it’s failing — that’s worth examining with a spiritual director before taking any steps forward. Running toward something and running away from something are different movements, even when they produce the same destination.
And if the same intensity of spiritual longing has attached itself to several different life-changing decisions in a short period, that pattern itself is worth paying attention to.
None of this is about discouraging the question. It’s about taking it seriously enough to ask it honestly.
Discernment doesn’t resolve through more thinking. It resolves through engagement.
The consistent wisdom of the Church — across centuries and traditions — is that clarity comes through prayer, spiritual direction, and real exposure to what you’re considering. Not imagining it. Not researching it from a distance. Actually living alongside it, however briefly.
At St. Peter’s Abbey, we offer a Live-In experience as the first step for men seriously exploring a monastic vocation. It’s approximately two weeks of living within the monastery enclosure — praying the Office with the monks, sharing meals and work, experiencing the actual daily rhythm rather than the version that exists in your imagination. It requires no commitment and carries no pressure. It’s an invitation to see, in the spirit of what Jesus offered when he said, simply, “Come and see” (John 1:39).
Most men find that two weeks of direct experience does more for their discernment than years of wondering alone.
What’s the difference between spiritual hunger and a vocation to monastic life? Spiritual hunger is the desire for a deeper relationship with God — it’s common among serious Catholics and can point toward many different vocations. A monastic vocation is more specific: a persistent, grounded attraction to the particular shape of Benedictine life, which holds up even when the demands and difficulties of that life are understood clearly.
Do I need to be certain before contacting the abbey? No. Most men who reach out are still in early stages of wondering. Contacting us is not a commitment — it’s the beginning of a conversation. Brother Benedict, our Sub Prior, is glad to correspond with men who are curious but unsure.
Should I have a spiritual director before exploring a monastic vocation? It’s strongly encouraged. A spiritual director can help you examine your motivations honestly, distinguish between different movements of the spirit, and accompany the discernment process over time. If you don’t have one, that’s a good place to start — often through your parish priest.
What happens during a Live-In visit? You live in the monastery enclosure alongside the monks — joining the Divine Office, meals, work, and recreation. There’s no formal program or evaluation pressure. The goal is simply to experience the life as it actually is.
Is there an age limit for entering monastic life? We welcome Catholic men between 21 and 50 years of age, with exceptions considered on an individual basis.
What if I visit and determine monastic life isn’t right for me? That’s a completely legitimate outcome, and a valuable one. Clarity in either direction is the point of discernment. Many men visit, conclude that monastic life isn’t their path, and leave with a clearer sense of what they are called to.
If you’ve recognized yourself in any of this — if the hunger is real and the question keeps returning — that’s worth taking seriously. Not by rushing toward a decision, but by beginning to engage the question with the same seriousness it deserves.
Bring it to prayer. Find a spiritual director if you don’t have one. Read the Rule of St. Benedict. And if you feel drawn to learn more about life at St. Peter’s Abbey, reach out. We’re glad to walk alongside men in discernment, wherever that process eventually leads.
Contact Brother Benedict van Ginkel, O.S.B., Sub Prior Email: vanginkelb@stpeters.sk.ca Phone: 306-682-1777
Or visit our Vocations page to learn more about the Live-In experience and the steps of formation at St. Peter’s Abbey.
Feeding the Baby Deer

Every year, the baby deer come to feed at our compost area. This year, there were seven that had foaled in September, and would have been too small to survive on their own. They are lucky to feed on dry bread, fresh vegetable cuttings, and especially, grapefruit and lemon peels.
