Monastic Laundry

"All too often, a kind of workaholism takes over and makes of religious life a series of tasks to be performed and duties to be undertaken." -Br. Robert C. Berger, FSC (a teacher of mine at Manhattan College), in the Spring 1994 Review for Religious 5/2/94 Dear Diary,      I have been living at Chaminade High School for 10 months and three days. Does it feel like it's been 10 months and three days? Yes, but I now realize that though it is a short period of time, I'm thankful for every minute of it--both good and bad. John reminded me today to keep my head on straight and don't go to extremes--between cynicism and over pietistical bullshit. He was straight with me and I thanked him for it. It is but another thing for me to keep in mind and remember always.       Organization is something I need right now. With tests coming, I have to buckle down and get to work. With God's love and help, which I know I have, I'll do great on my tests and I'...

Today I'm sharing parts of two letters I wrote to my friend Brendan in late winter and early spring of 1994. I've edited out some private info, but otherwise sharing the second one in full, and just a short exchange from the first, a story which hopefully shows how fun the monastery was at times. In between the two is a single line from a letter my friend wrote to me in April of 1994, one which is just as poignant now as it was then. I saved everything , so while I'm not sharing each letter I received or sent in that time, it's been really nice rereading old correspondence as I prepare these reflections. The name's Brennan. Brother Brennan. (Brother Sean more often though back then.) Quick refresher: I attended Chaminade High School as a freshman, failed out at the end of the school year, and then enrolled in Kellenberg Memorial High School the summer before my sophomore year. Both high schools are run by the Marianists (Society of Mary/S.M.), a religious order...

If I could sneak back into the monastery for just one more hour, there is no other hour in time I'd rather choose than the Easter Vigil service at Chaminade High School. Forty-four men processing single file through the monastery lit only by candles? It gave me chills every time! I was only a monk for four years of my life, but the environment and the people I lived with changed me forever (and for the better) . Even so, my time there was cut short in a most unnatural, very unkind and thoroughly unhappy way. I was robbed of all sense of normal closure by being defrocked without warning one day, so now I'm-- Well, I'm like a ghost: part of me is still there, and always will be. Of all the weeks on the liturgical calendar, Holy Week sits high atop my list of personal favorites. Today I reminisce on some of the traditions I recall and loved most. While some have changed since I left, others surely remain. Standing at the entrance to the chapel at the Easter Vigil service. From...

I was only "Brother Sean" for a red hair over four years, so while priests and religious who give their whole lives to similar missions may be smug to my perspective, it really comes down to this: you can kick the boy out of the monastery, but you can't kick the monastery out of the boy. Who I am is forever changed because of those four years, and more succinctly, because of who I chose to become in all the years since. March 31, 1994 Dear Brother George Edward,      Throughout the past nine months, I have had the opportunity of forming many friendships; friendships with my Brothers, friendship with God, and friendship with myself.   I am very grateful for the blessings that I have received and for the opportunity to grow more fully in the life of Jesus Christ.   Though I have had some stumbling blocks along the way, I have learned to see them as stepping stones on the sometimes bumpy path of religious life.      I...