MONCKS CORNER, S.C. -- "A year and a half ago, I could do anything -- run the chain saw, cut up trees, use a backhoe."
Brother Joseph Swedo was bent forward in his chair, his rugged hands folded delicately in his lap. As a monk at Mepkin Abbey, a Trappist monastery in South Carolina, he maintains that Roman Catholic order's code of prayer, work, seclusion, poverty and chastity. And for the past 73 years -- since he joined the order at age 17, answering a call from God, he said -- physical labor has been an integral part of his daily routine.
Lately, though, Swedo's health has taken a turn for the worse, narrowing the scope of his monastic life. He is no longer strong enough, he said, to regularly attend the first or last of Mepkin's seven daily prayer services -- vigils at 3:20 a.m., and compline at 7:35 p.m. Nor can he fully participate during the roughly five hours set aside each day for agricultural work and the upkeep of the monastery's grounds.
"Right now, it's a bleak situation," he said. "We're all getting old."
Mepkin Abbey -- part of a global network of Trappist monasteries that for nearly 1,000 years have provided their communities with reliable sources of prayer, learning and hospitality -- is edging toward a potential crisis. In keeping with broader declines in the ranks of priests, nuns and brothers, Mepkin's monastic community is dwindling. Only 13 monks remain, down from a peak of 55 in the mid-1950s. Over the same period, the monks' average age has steadily risen by nearly 50 years -- up to 77, from around 30. The abbey is struggling to attract and retain younger novices.
Across all orders, the number of Catholic brothers in the United States has declined more than two-thirds since 1965, according to the Center for Applied Research in the Apostolate. But Trappist communities may be particularly vulnerable, since their traditions are more isolating and, in many ways, more resistant to modernization.
While members of other Catholic orders -- Dominicans and Jesuits, for example -- focus partly on outreach, Trappists, who are formally known as the Order of Cistercians of the Strict Observance, do not. And because Trappists see their lifestyle as a vocation, or a call from Jesus, they don't actively recruit new members.
The economics of monastic life can also present challenges. "We don't have a big financial reserve," said the Rev. Stan Gumula, Mepkin's abbot, adding that an endowment, which the monastery does not have, "goes against what Trappists are for." Even the profit margins on the monks' agricultural business is limited by their daily prayer schedule, which severely restricts the number of hours available each day for work.
These tensions pose a question: To what degree can -- and should -- age-old religious traditions adapt to survive in a rapidly evolving world?
To be sure, many of the Trappist traditions at Mepkin are helping sustain the monastery. Hospitality is central to the monks' lives, and the beauty of the grounds at Mepkin is a major draw for day visitors and for people who stay overnight at the abbey's retreat center -- which is often fully booked months in advance.
While many monks at Mepkin are concerned about the monastery's future, they also see this moment as an opportunity to pioneer a new form of monasticism. In recent months, the abbey, in response to its aging population and its lack of young novices, formed a committee for its future development and drew up a set of programs aimed at attracting a younger and more spiritually diverse group of people.
The abbey's new affiliate program will offer two new short-term monastic options for people of any, or no, faith traditions: a monthlong monastic institute, open to men and women, and a yearlong residency. And in a departure from its otherwise passive approach, Mepkin created an ad campaign -- albeit a small and highly targeted one -- to publicize the program. (It featured copy that read: "Be a monk. For a month. For a year.")
"We're at such a -- you might say desperate -- point," said the Rev. Guerric Heckel, "that we're being forced to try something new and innovative."
Many young people of the Roman Catholic tradition, Heckel added, will simply not be attracted to forms of monasticism that require celibacy and a lifetime commitment. But there's a growing belief among Mepkin's brothers that certain elements of the Trappist tradition -- its cultivation of mindfulness, stillness and inward exploration -- are increasingly relevant to today's youth. And the abbey, they say, is a repository of wisdom about the benefits of contemplative living.
"What young people keep telling us," said the Rev. Joe Tedesco, chairman of the committee for Mepkin's future development, "is that they're interested in the spiritual life journey, but not in institutional religion. So let's give them an experience of the place without a commitment, and see what happens."
Despite their hope for the future, the monks at Mepkin are clear-eyed about the likelihood that their new initiatives -- which will probably attract young, interfaith and short-term visitors -- will fail to attract Roman Catholics who are interested in a long-term commitment with the core monastic community.
Still, Mepkin's future is anything but certain. "I don't want to spend my remaining years simply hanging on," Gumula said. "I'd rather be in a community that has a vital energy and a good community life. And if that means closing Mepkin, that means closing Mepkin.
"I believe there's going to be a turnaround," he added. "Is it going to be a turnaround that's quick enough for Mepkin? I don't know. But I have great hope in the future."
Religion on 03/24/2018