Christ in the Desert Monastery

"The place was chosen with careful deliberation, and it is admirable.  Thirteen miles by dirt road from the nearest highway, the monastery rises at the point where the canyon narrows and road vanishes into rock and brush.  Still surrounded by visible traces of an ancient Pueblo culture, it is at the frontier on which the Pueblos had to protect their country against marauding Apaches.

"The rocky land is even more lonely and desolate today than it was then (for the Indian villages have disappeared).  The monastic Church, designed by the Japanese architect George Nakashima, fits perfectly into its setting.  Stark, lonely, stately in its simplicity, it gazes out over the sparse irrigated fields into the widening valley.  The tower is like a watchman looking for something or someone of whom it does not speak.  This architectural masterpiece is a perfect expression, in adobe brick and plaster, of the monastic spirit.

"Monastic hospitality does not conflict with the "desert spirit" -- on the contrary, it is an essential element in the desert tradition, for the first monks had to be concerned for the welfare of those who got lost in the desert, or came to them in spiritual crisis." 

- Thomas Merton, who visited this monastery in 1968

Not a mile further down the road from Ghost Ranch is State Road 151 - that 13-mile steep and narrow road that ends at the Christ in the Desert Monastery.  Of course we would go.  The website warns not to go if it is raining or snowing, and that there is NOTHING along the way.  We had plenty of gas and the weather was sunny and dry ...

 Much silent desert to take in on the way ...

 A long 13 miles, finally we get to the place where we have to park and walk the rest of the way to the monastery (unless you're handicapped) ...;

 This is the guest house, where people making retreats can stay.

 Then we happened upon a stations of the cross path that looked to me like a shortcut ... at least shorter than taking the main road ...  All of these crosses were different (just like the haphazard crosses of El Santuria de Chimayo) but somehow these crosses felt more deliberate -- from a deeper place.

 John on the path between the Cross stations ...

 And then we could see the Church ...

 Unfortunately (again) we could not go into the Church because it is being renovated and the floor is completely torn up as they put in radiant heating.  I almost begged the Guestmaster monk to let me just look in a door or window, but he said that it was not possible.

For now, the monks are holding all of their liturgies and prayer services in the Visitor Center.  We decided to wait until the Sext prayer and join them here.

 Here is a cemetery on the grounds.  A bench so that the living can sit among the dead ...

 More photos of the Church amidst the rocks ...

 Desert foliage ...

 A view of the monastery from down at the river ...

 John down by the river.  I think that this is the Rio Chamo.  John kept wondering what the monks did all day.  He was very pleased to find that they make beer here!

 Road back to the monastery ...

 The monastic area ...

 The Pope John Paul II Silent Meditation Garden ...

 No rosaries on the trees, just lavender and sage ...

 The monastic bell, which they literally clanged to call the monks to prayer.  Nothing subtle about it.

 I refrained from photographing the monks as we joined them for Sext.  I know that they are Trappists, but their habit is slightly different from the monks of Gethsemani.  They wear all black.  And I couldn't help but get the sense that these were a slightly outlaw brand of Trappist.  Perhaps it is the starkness of the desert that does this to them.  There were about 25 of them,  a few looked foreign, Hispanic, African American, and one very definite Orthodox (with the beard and cross).  Yes, there was a sense of peace about some of them, but most looked like they were in the desert.

The Guest House again, on the way out ...

 John and a desert cactus ...  It's amusing to me the things that he asks to be photographed with ...

 The astonishing autumn yellow of the desert trees ...

 The view on the way out was quite different than the way in.  We thought this looked like a big barn:

 Coming upon yet another amazing rock/mountain ...