The Georgia Bulletin

Sun, Oct 12, 2008


What I Have Seen and Heard - Archbishop Gregory's Weekly Column

Print Issue: March 29, 1984

Monastery Of The Holy Spirit: Building Years

Four-part series: one -- two -- three -- four

By Dewey Weiss Kramer

When a person commits himself to the Cistercian life, he makes vows not only of poverty, chastity and obedience, but also of stability, a commitment to a particular community in (usually) one particular place. The Conyers founders, having made their vows at Gethsemani, carried that Cistercian community with them, transforming the train coach into a travelling monastery that evening and night from St. Benedict’s Day, 1944 to March 22nd, when they arrive in Georgia. But this community would have the unique aspect, privilege and arduous task of actually building the place of their stability. The building of the physical plant was destined to have significant influence on the building of the new community, both the internal one of the monks and the wider community of the monks within their Georgia environs.

During the several weeks before their arrival, Mr. Leslie Ray had converted the hayloft of the Honey Creek Plantation barn into a rudimentary monastery and chapel, but one shared with cows and chickens and cramped even by Trappist standards. So besides continuing the farm work necessary for their sustenance, they immediately began work on a temporary monastery. Trees felled in the morning were cut into boards by noon and nailed into place by evening. Working far more than the Rule’s prescribed four hour a day, the community was able to move into the “Pineboard Monastery” on the Vigil of the Immaculate Conception, December 7, 1944. Just in time; it is reported that the water in the cruets had frozen that morning while the priests were saying Mass for the last time in the hayloft.

PLANS ARE DRAWN

Once installed in the wooden monastery, building commenced on the foundation of the permanent monastery and the church. Dom Frederic Dunne had a Kentucky architectural firm draw up the plans. It was to be a truly impressive complex, one large enough to take care of the growing numbers of Trappist vocations once and for all. As he quipped to the Conyers superior, James Fox, he didn’t want them to be making foundations like this year after year. (And yet within nine years Gethsemani would have started four new houses.)

Dom Frederic’s idea was that Holy Spirit would be a perfect copy of Gethsemani, and in this respect he was following Cistercian practice of the twelfth century when most houses followed a common ground plan. But Holy Spirit was already experiencing its own new spirit, occasioned to some extent by the intense building activity itself; as a community it was destined NOT to be a copy, and its new character would be reflected by the fact that the Gethsemani plans were not executed. Circumstances intervened which allowed the Georgia foundation to take its own course.

The new community’s first superior was James Fox, and when in 1946 Holy Spirit was raised from the status of dependency to abbey, he was elected its abbot. The building program begun under his and Dom Frederic’s guidance came to an abrupt halt in 1948 after Dom Frederic suffered a fatal heart attack on his way to Conyers. Gethsemani then elected Dom James as its abbot, and with his departure the financial support from Gethsemani ceased. The Georgia monastery was able to meet its living expenses, but there was no extra money for building a monastery, much less one on the scale planned by Dom Frederic.

MONEY PROBLEM

Conyers’ new abbot, Dom Robert McGann considered the situation a long time. He finally got a commitment from Atlanta bankers to lend half of the amount needed if the monks could raise half. But that was an impossible sum. The solution? The morning after his conference with the bankers Dom Robert came into the Chapter Room and addressed his assembled community solemnly: “Sons, we want to go on building; but as you know, we can’t.” He explained the bankers’ offer, then, after a pause, continued, “If God wants this monastery here, He will see that it is built. If He doesn’t want it, we don’t want it. Tomorrow morning, we will resume work on the monastery.”

The next morning they went out with shovels and wheelbarrows and resumed work. They never ran out of money, although they never had a superfluity. This was in 1952. By 1959 the permanent monastery was completed, and by 1960 the Church was ready. In 1969 the completion of the Guest House signaled the end of the major building program of Holy Spirit.

The pioneers faced a hard life in Rockdale County. But in speaking with them about that time one hears repeated references to a new spirit, a freer atmosphere. Although they continued to observe the austere Trappist usages, the very rigors of the building activity necessitated positive changes: the monks set off in the morning with a substantial breakfast; the work outdoors was exhausting, but it also liberated from certain routines and a feeling of confinement.

Further, while Cistercian life is by definition cenobitical or communal, the physical demands made on these monks drew them far closer together than the Trappist routine of an established monastery might have done. Along with the physical walls of the monastery, therefore, a sense of community developed, akin to that which must have animated the eleventh century founders.

GOD’S DESIGNS

The absence of serious accidents is often cited as a sign of God’s presence during this period. Actually there were accidents, but they were near misses which offer, perhaps, better confirmation of God’s designs for the place than would no mishaps. Once a monk dismantling a hoist some forty feet above the ground leaned forward too far and lost his balance – but was pushed back violently onto the wall – not by the wind.

Another time two monks were cutting down a giant poplar with a chain saw and let it get away from them. The first one was knocked into the swamp, the second one was beneath the huge trunk – but with a half inch clearance. The tree had come down and wedged between its own stump and that of a tree felled a few years earlier. (Fr. Ephraim broke silence with a fervent “Pro Maria!”) Another monk’s fingers were badly mangled in the sawmill and the surgeon wanted to amputate. But the monk was determined to say Mass again with those fingers; he continues to celebrate Mass today.

The intensive construction labor also served to create an outreach into the non-monastic community. Initial distrust by Rockdale County people was overcome by the contact necessitated by the building. Already work on the pineboard monastery had set the example. One of the Conyers workmen was widely known for his strong language delivered in a loud deep voice, but every time he let out one of his expletives, one particular monk would bow his head. After a while the workman took note, and over the months the story circulated in Conyers that the silence of one monk had changed the language of the workman. Later that same man became one of the most vocal “boosters” of the monastery. The anecdote illustrates the subtle influence exercised by the quiet but persevering witness of the community.

The hard work of the monks won the respect of their immediate Rockdale neighbors. But the initial contact with the non-monastic community also established a direction of openness to the wider community that would distinguish Holy Spirit from many other Cistercian houses.

THE CHURCH

Probably the building best known to visitors to Holy Spirit is the church itself. The story of its construction is a prime instance of the new foundation’s openness to changing circumstances. Dom Frederic’s original intent was to pattern it after Gethsemani.

When work was resumed in 1952 it was decided to work with an Atlanta firm. It turned out that the architect specialized in grandiose Tudor gothic (Emory Presbyterian is a handsome example.) Although the building committee was not convinced of the suitability of the plan, work started. But since the work had to be done by the monks themselves, rather than professionals, the elaborate ornamentation was declared too difficult and was thus simply omitted.

The overly grand conception (the original plan called for an edifice twenty feet higher than the finished church) was scaled down, the fussiness was omitted, and out of the communal effort emerged the clean lines which evoke the spirit of the twelfth century Cistercian reform architecture.

Awareness and acceptance of an evolving mission also accounts for the monastery Guest House, the largest and best-equipped in the Order. It was begun during the initial building thrust as the foundation for a large novitiate. When building resumed in the fifties, the novitiate was incorporated into the third floor of the monastery building. Holy Spirit’s commitment and outreach to its Georgia situation had become evident.

Today retreatants and guests of many faiths are welcomed to this Cistercian place where all are treated as Christ.

(Next: The abbots)