Playpen Monasticism

“Our infants order our days - the baby's cry like the bell tolling for prayer. Just like [religion], we have to drop what we are doing and move towards it.” – Benjamin Tennant


The monks wake at 5:10am to begin praying the canonical hours of the day. Most mornings in the monastery chapel it is dark and cold, and they are yet barely awake, going through the motions of early morning prayer.

The monks will continue to pray throughout the duration of the day at the first hour, the third hour, noon, the ninth hour, at sunset, and right before bed. The monastery chapel smells of incense and is dotted with religious paraphernalia. They pray the Psalms in a chanting manner that’s been passed down since before the middle ages. The emotional, sometimes desperate and violent words of King David are sung in a dull chant that heightens the raw contrast between lyrics and melody.

The monks sit in two rows that face each other; one side chants a line, the other side responds. Call, silence, call, response, silence, response, call, silence, call, response, silence. Stand, sit, stand, bow. Make the sign of the cross. Despite the song’s apparent simplicity, it requires great concentration to follow along. Just like monks for hundreds of years before them have done, they are calling out time, their form of worship seems to transform them into the very hands of the ticking clock.

Being a monk is a difficult and important vocation. They serve the role of spiritual metronome to remind the rest of us what time it is. In doing so their work becomes timeless, connecting the present to the distant pass and also to the generations yet to come.

Becoming a monk takes tremendous sacrifice. The process of going from postulant (inquirer) to full monk lasts around nine years as the individual works through the stages of monastic formation and eventually takes solemn vows. These could include vows of poverty (having no earthly possessions), chastity (having no biological family), and obedience (doing whatever the Lord tells you, no matter the cost). 

The work of a monk is slow and intentional. To live their life requires a full commitment. There is no squeezing the monastic life into your busy schedule. When the bell tolls calling them to prayer, all else is temporarily dropped.

The Lutheran monastery we regularly visit is located on a parcel of rural land outside Lake Orion, Michigan some twenty miles from Detroit. Positioned on the outskirts of town, the monastery feels remote, whereas the town is a suburban paradise. As one drives through en route to the monastery the welcome sign reads: Welcome To Lake Orion “Where Living is a Vacation”.

At great cost and difficulty do these monks continue to work at their spiritual calling, knowing that just down the road is the best this world has to offer. “Lake Life” presents a powerful alternative to the monastic life. The boats, barbecues, sunshine, and laughter are as enticing as any siren song known to humankind. A party that never ends.

 

Yet the monks persevere.

 

 

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They persevere because it is needed. Their monastic community does not exist just for itself, but it is a group and environment that others draw strength from. Frequent visitors include local pastors, artists, and leaders in the community. They all come to be challenged and fed by the monastic rhythms. In order to step out of their own busy routines, they submit to the constant interruptions of seven times a day prayer, fasting, and silence.

I see the value of constant interruption and have tried to embrace it over these past two years. With varying levels of success have we prayed three times a day, but other times once a day or not at all. The soul longs to take small breaks throughout the day and notice what God is doing around us or check in with your own body and spirit. If you follow the rhythms of monastic life no more than a few hours go by before you have another opportunity to sense God’s presence and the status of your own soul.

But ninety nine percent of people don’t follow the rhythms of monastic life, because we must follow the rhythms of real life. It’s not reasonable or realistic for us to do what they do. Our job demands we come in early, kids and family members get sick, we receive a call to jury duty, or tragedy strikes a friend. These are also interruptions, but difficult to predict and plan your days around. There is no down-to-the-minute set schedule of when my kids will demand to be fed or tire of the activity they’re currently engaged in.

Instead what we practice is a playpen monasticism. It is aspirational, an inexact version of the monks’ practices. Like the playpen, it also has definite boundaries, within which exists messiness, noise, emotions, and play. Rather than a spotless, silent chapel, we gather outdoors in the lot beside the house and recite a liturgical prayer followed by fifteen minutes of silence while sitting in lawn chairs. It’s not exactly silent. The birds chirp, the wind blows, sure. But also, helicopters fly overhead, noise from the freeway traffic drifts over the yard, the kids kick a ball around or play in the sandbox nearby. The baby sits on the lawn, pulling up blades of grass and sampling their texture in her mouth.

The whole thing usually lasts for a full fifteen to twenty minutes, but it also may not. Despite our deep desire for order, disruptions are common and often to be expected. Playpen monasticism reminds us that we are not on our own time. It is the way of the cross.

It makes room for our disorder and messiness, our refusal to sit still. In it we are able to love our neighbors, our children, those of us with mental illness or addictions, and our enemies in this world. We are even able to accept ourselves, and trust that God is deeply at work despite our extreme limitations.

If traditional monasticism is the metronome, playpen monasticism is jazz. The notes and rhythms strain against the set timing, while also being anchored by it. Traditional monasticism gives us a guide for the road ahead whereas playpen monasticism holds and contains the irregular rhythms and noises which would overwhelm the solemn silence of the monastery chapel. Both expressions are necessary and both present their own challenges.

 

It’s probably not realistic to pray seven times a day, but we all need some silence, some rhythm, and the opportunity to touch the eternal throughout the day.