Not until the international hit recording of Gregorian chant sung by the monks of Santo Domingo de Silos in northern Spain were many people, even Catholics, fully aware of the beauty of the plainsong named for Pope Gregory the Great. Now you can hear it everywhere, even in Spanish discotheques. The popularity of Gregorian chant, sung by male choirs in particular, has attracted attention to those monasteries where it can be heard most often and in its proper liturgical setting.
Now more than ever before, the doors of these institutions are being thrown open to inhabitants of the world outside. This open-door policy offers advantages both to visitors and to those who are committed to the religious life. In Spain, most of the country’s approximately 170 monasteries and convents of contemplative nuns now accept short-term boarders.
Considering that a brief respite from the stress and tensions of the world would do us no harm, my photographer and I decided to pay a visit to a monastery. We chose one of the first Cistercian monasteries to be founded in Spain, the 12th century Santa Maria de Huerta (Holy Mary of the Vegetable Garden), in the town of the same name, about 120 miles east of Madrid on the road to Saragossa.
The prices charged are minimal, comparing very favorably with the most economical hostels. But these are definitely not hotels. No matter how many visitors there are, sojourners are reminded that the establishment where they are staying is a house of prayer.
Monasteries can hardly make a profit for what they charge for a short stay with meals included, and donations remain, for many monasteries, their primary source of income. A barely noticeable sign posted in the hallway leading to the visitors’ dining room at Santa Maria de Huerta asks visitors to contribute to a fund for the construction of a new chapel.
The rules are simple, the most important being a request that visitors conform to the routine of the establishment. Silence, for instance, is the rule, except in the visitors’ refectory at mealtimes and in certain places, such as in the shop—if there is one—where the items produced in the convents or monasteries are sold. As a general rule children are not allowed and visits are limited usually to a few days or a week at most.
Most such places can accommodate only about a dozen visitors at a time, but some can provide lodging for groups of twenty or more on spiritual retreat. Visitors are usually allowed to come and go as they like during daytime hours.
As if to demonstrate that this was no hotel, we stood outside the main door at Santa Maria de Huerta for about twenty minutes in the biting cold, ringing the doorbell repeatedly. The monk on duty—not the regular one—evidently had not been advised of the hour we were expected. Once inside, we were assigned rooms. My photographer was on the older second floor, near the entrance. Mine, of relatively new construction, was three floors up, on a hallway near the chapel alongside about two dozen identical cells where most of the monks were housed. There were several other male visitors whom I got to know at mealtimes. My cell was clean and neat but very cold, with a private bathroom and shower. There was a little table, a window with a northern exposure, a radiator that did not work, and a small plug-in electric heater.
A written reminder on the desk in each cell says:
We Cistercian monks, faithful to the Benedictine tradition, open our doors and our hearts to everybody who wants to find God. We do not exclude anybody from our hostelry as long as he does not interfere with the peace of the monks and the other visitors. St. Benedict calls for special attention to the poor, to those who suffer from any need, and to brothers in the faith who want to join us in our community prayer.
Our first task was to get permission to take certain photos that might be considered an interference with the regular life of the monastery. We contacted the abbot by interior phone; he was aware of our work and would send a monk to lead us around. Still uncertain whether or not we had permission to take these photographs, we asked one of the monks how we could talk to the abbot personally.
“Ask the organist,” he whispered. So we did. The organist passed the message to a tall, slim, dark-haired athletic-looking monk who met us outside the chapel door. He said, “You wanted to speak to the abbot?”
“Yes,” I replied, adding, “We want to take photos for our article. By the way, what is the abbot’s name?”
“Isidoro Anquita,” he answered.
“And your name, Father?”
“I just told you,” he said softly.
He was the opposite of what I had expected: far too young and athletic to be the abbot of this medieval monastery. With only a few exceptions he quickly authorized us to go wherever we wanted, provided we were accompanied. The abbot himself was our guide for part of the time.
When I remarked to the abbot on the scarce comfort provided by the little electric heater in each cell, he replied, “I’m sure there weren’t any little electric heaters in St. Theresa’s day.” There were as many blankets as each visitor wanted.
We were told that attendance at all religious services was optional. Since I had come here to get a taste of the monastic life, I decided to attend almost all of them. In addition to Mass there were six other sessions of prayer, song, and meditation that together form a monk’s daily obligation to recite the Divine Office. Neither the early hours nor the bitter cold are easy.
In a part of the cloister hallway at right angles to the chapel hang several badly deteriorated paintings of St. Bernard and St. Benedict, the founder of the Cistercian order and the father of Western monasticism respectively. The once-famed library, which houses other old treasures, is on the same floor, but sadly it has suffered from the vicissitudes of time, including fire and military occupation. The library, which is not open to visitors, is in a big, arched room above the church, with faded frescoes on the walls. In the Middle Ages the room served as a dormitory; now, proudly displayed on hangers in a glass case, are the vestments of a medieval archbishop and abbot of the monastery who was disinterred twice, first around the 15th century and again in modern times, to determine the state of his remains. The vestments fared better than he did. The books and manuscripts in the library are being catalogued and, as needed, restored.
Who attends such short courses in monastic life? I was surprised to find, at the abundantly served meal, pilgrims and penitents of all types: a retired man who lived as a hermit before realizing he was called to another vocation; a priest who said he made a lone spiritual retreat at the monastery every year; a female schoolteacher; and a neurosurgeon who proved helpful by recognizing the symptoms troubling one of the group. One day three missionary priests from Africa joined us for lunch then invited us to coffee and brandy in a bar in the village.
Several times in the course of conversations with various members of the monastic community, I heard a bell ring, neither as deep and full-throated as the chime in the ancient belfry, nor as metallic and continuous as the doorbell. The sound in each case was definitely composed of a series of minor chimes and pauses. Each time Fray Jose, who was explaining monastic life to me at the request of the Abbot, paused and looked up, then continued. “We have our own paging system,” he explained. “Each can be reached by our own call. That was for the abbot.” Nevertheless, I noticed that monks occasionally resorted to the internal telephone system as well.
The food was simple and abundant, with lunch and supper menus featuring cabbage and pork cutlets or fatback and fried eggs, with local wine to wash it down. For dessert there was plenty of fruit and quince jelly, for which the monastery is well known throughout the area. There was only one menu at each meal, although the brother who served the meals went out of his way to provide special changes in the menu for visitors who, for health reasons, could not eat certain foods. Another economic activity of Santa Maria de Huerta is the making of icons. The monastery receives blocks of pre-cut wood from a supplier in the southern Spanish province of Cadiz, then shellacs “holy cards” to them and finishes the icons. Other members of the community contribute to the maintenance of the monastery as they can, handling such tasks as electricity, plumbing, and bricklaying. Since there is little sold at the shop that is actually produced at this monastery, there is a wide range of products from other monasteries and convents, such as superb honey from a nearby convent, cheese from another convent, and an excellent wine from another monastery in the area. As for the latter, shopkeeper Fray Teodor remarked unpolitically as he puttered among his books, icons, cheeses, and quince jelly, “Frankly, I like the wine we buy here in the village, the wine they serve us and you at table, better than the wine from the other monastery.”
Fray Teodor showed us the interior of the big church, leading us through passageways inside the monastery that are normally off-limits to visitors. Inside the church and in the library, we saw part of that coveted choir, a massive gilded carved wooden altarpiece and frescoes relating the voyages of Columbus and painted in his time. However, a 17th century reform of the church had badly damaged the frescoes and led to undesirable carpentry on the choir stalls.
By the end of our stay, we found ourselves refreshed by the stillness and quiet of this house of prayer. The night before we were to leave, it snowed all night long. Using my small portable radio with earphones, I learned that the road back to Madrid was blocked by snow and ice at several places.
One extra day of monastic peace: a gift from God.
House Rules at Santa Maria de Huerta
Our hostelry is not a hotel. The maximum stay will be eight days and the minimum two.
Visitors may visit the parts of the monastery and the forest set aside for tourism, respecting the parts reserved for the monks.
Visitors may take part in our liturgical prayer. Their presence will be edifying for us.
Visitors will ask the Hosteler for whatever they need, or if they want to talk to a particular monk.
Visitors should not carry on conversations with the monks nor linger at the entrance.
Radio-cassettes may be used only in the cells and with earphones. In order to preserve the climate of silence and prayer, visitors are asked not to use musical instruments.
Everyone who wants to take part in the liturgical prayer with the monks will take steps to avoid arriving late and interfering with the prayers.
Smoking is permitted in the cells, in the open cloister, and in the forest, but not in the hallways or the cloister near the chapel. Further, silence is requested in this cloister.
Visitors may leave the monastery only during hours in which the door is open.
Please cooperate with the dining room service: picking up the plates, dishwashing, etc.
Please leave the room as you would like to find it.
Rules are similar at other monasteries and convents in Spain