The Summer 2025 Abbey Newsletter can be found at this link
/https://www.stpetersabbey.ca/abbey/newsletter/abbey_newsletter_summer_2025.pdf

The Summer 2025 Abbey Newsletter can be found at this link
/https://www.stpetersabbey.ca/abbey/newsletter/abbey_newsletter_summer_2025.pdf
In a restless age of noise and speed, silence can feel unnatural—maybe even threatening. But for centuries, monastic communities have not only welcomed silence; they have structured their lives around it. In the hush of stone chapels and cloistered gardens, monks and nuns have discovered what many of us have forgotten: silence heals.
At the heart of this tradition is The Rule of Saint Benedict, a 6th-century guide to monastic living that continues to shape the rhythm of monastic communities today. In it, silence isn’t framed as withdrawal, but as sacred attentiveness—an essential path to wisdom, humility, and peace.
Saint Benedict writes plainly in Chapter 6, On the Spirit of Silence:
“Let us do what the Prophet says: ‘I said, I will guard my ways, that I may not sin with my tongue. I have set a guard to my mouth. I was dumb and was humbled, and kept silence even from good words’ (Psalm 39:1–2).”
Benedict doesn’t silence speech to suppress expression, but to protect the soul. Silence, in his view, guards against idle talk and invites contemplation. In Chapter 42, he instructs that after Compline, the final prayers of the evening, “no one shall be permitted to speak” so that the community can enter “the silence which is proper to the monastery.”
This isn’t austerity for its own sake—it’s a space where truth, God, and self-understanding can gently unfold.
To the modern ear, enforced silence may sound oppressive. But for monks, it’s not silence for silence’s sake—it’s silence that listens. Benedict encourages “listening with the ear of the heart,” a phrase found in the very Prologue of the Rule.
“Listen carefully, my son, to the master’s instructions, and attend to them with the ear of your heart.”
In this light, silence becomes an active, relational practice. It tunes us to subtleties: to the presence of God, the emotions beneath our surface reactions, and the quiet truths we often drown in distraction.
While Saint Benedict didn’t have access to neuroscience, his spiritual intuition aligns with modern research. Studies show that silence can regenerate brain cells, particularly in the hippocampus—the area linked to memory and emotion. Silence also reduces stress hormones, lowers blood pressure, and can improve sleep and focus.
But perhaps more profoundly, silence allows emotional processing. In the quiet of monastic life, there’s space for sorrow to be felt, for joy to emerge unforced, and for meaning to arise—not from constant doing, but from being.
For Benedict, silence is preparation for encountering the divine. In the stillness of a silent meal or a candlelit vigil, monks experience the presence of God not through spectacle, but through simplicity. The Rule carefully cultivates this quiet space—not as emptiness, but as fullness without noise.
In Chapter 7, which explores humility, Benedict explains:
“The tenth step of humility is that he is not easily moved and quick for laughter, for it is written, ‘The fool lifts up his voice in laughter.’”
Here, we see that restraint, silence, and interior calm are not emotional suppression but signs of deep-rooted presence. Benedictine silence is gentle, not grim—it opens space for reverence, joy, and truth.
You don’t need to live in a monastery to live the spirit of Benedictine silence. Here’s how you can cultivate sacred quiet in everyday life:
Saint Benedict’s silence is not about muting ourselves—it’s about deepening our awareness. When we resist the impulse to fill every space with sound, something profound happens. We hear our lives more clearly. We notice the divine in the ordinary. We become, as Benedict urges, truly present.
In a culture obsessed with noise and speed, choosing silence is an act of reverence. And perhaps, as monks have quietly known for centuries, it is in silence that the soul finally speaks.
Discerning a call to the monastic life is a deeply personal and spiritual journey. It’s not always a clear or instant revelation, but rather a process of listening, praying, and seeking guidance. If you’re wondering whether God may be inviting you to pursue this sacred path, you are not alone. Many who feel this stirring wrestle with questions, doubts, and signs. This blog post explores how you might recognize a call to the monastic life and what steps you can take to discern it more clearly.
One of the most common experiences of those called to the monastic life is a recurring and persistent sense that they are meant for something more—something deeper. You may find yourself drawn to silence, simplicity, prayer, or community life, even when other life paths are available or appealing. This quiet yet steady pull often doesn’t go away, even when you try to ignore it.
Reflection Question: Do you feel an inner yearning for a life devoted entirely to God?
Monastic life is centered on prayer, often in structured rhythms throughout the day (the Liturgy of the Hours). If you find yourself naturally inclined toward prayer, meditation, Eucharistic adoration, or Scripture reading—and feel at peace when you engage in them—this could be a sign.
Reflection Question: Do you feel most alive and fulfilled when you are praying or in spiritual contemplation?
Monasticism involves living in community with others who share a common rule and spiritual focus. Those called to this life often find joy in simple living, shared meals, manual labor, and communal worship. If you long for meaningful relationships grounded in faith and mutual support rather than worldly success, monastic life might resonate with you.
Reflection Question: Does the idea of living simply and sharing life with others in faith appeal to you?
Feeling out of place in modern culture—especially in terms of consumerism, competition, and noise—can be another indicator. If you feel increasingly detached from worldly ambitions and more drawn to a quiet, contemplative life dedicated to God, take note.
Reflection Question: Are you dissatisfied with the world’s promises of happiness and feel called to a different kind of life?
Sometimes, people close to you may notice something before you do. A spiritual director, priest, or even friends and family might suggest that you consider religious life. While not definitive, external affirmation can be a helpful confirmation of your internal experience.
Reflection Question: Have others recognized in you a deep spirituality or suggested you might have a religious vocation?
When you consider monastic life seriously—whether through visiting a monastery, speaking with a monk or nun, or reading about the lifestyle—you may feel a deep and unexplainable peace. This interior peace is often the Holy Spirit’s way of affirming a possible call.
Reflection Question: When you imagine yourself living in a monastery, do you feel a sense of peace and clarity?
If several of the signs above resonate with you, here are some practical next steps:
Discerning a vocation to the monastic life takes time. It’s not about having all the answers but about being open to God’s leading. If your heart is quietly but persistently drawn to a life of prayer, community, and contemplation, take it seriously. God calls in many ways—through desire, restlessness, and peace—and responding to that call can lead to profound joy and purpose.
“Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.” — 1 Samuel 3:10
If you’re curious about monastic life or ready to explore it further, consider reaching out to us. We offer “Live-In” retreats to help you continue the journey of discernment. Let your heart remain open—God speaks in silence. More information can also be found here.
On February 27th St. Peter’s College and Abbey Library held a fascinating Book Presentation. Myrna Kostash, one of our Oblates, presented a fifty minute PowerPoint Presentation on her award winning historical book entitled Ghosts in a Photograph. Myrna is a prolific, intriguing and engaging writer and speaker. The presentation involved Myrna describing photographs on her PowerPoint presentation. The slides she talked about were about her family history and the mystery of one particular relative who kept appearing in very old photographs. He was one of the first known members of the Kostashchuk (Kostash) ancestry. There were just over twenty people in attendance and the presentation was available on Zoom. St. Peter’s College Library has had two book presentations and readings over the past couple of years and the staff hope that there will be many more.