Chapter 15
A few days after his return from the Chan Buddhist monastery, Abbot Francis de Sales and Father Ignatius Lynn, SJ, walked down the winding road from the hilltop retreat house on Cheung Chau Island to the dock. Both men were more than accustomed to dealing with “heavy” issues in their pastoral work so it was fun to chat about lighter matters along the way. At some point in the winding conversation it became clear that Ignatius did not know what “mummers” were.
“I can’t believe you don’t know about the guys who get dressed up in lavish costumes that are bursting with color and glitter every January first and play music in a great big New Year’s Day parade in Philly. You have lived all over the world and speak I don’t know how many different languages. What am I going to do with you?” Father Ignatius knew that this lacuna in his “education” would never be forgotten.
They continued their banter as they boarded the large boat, along with several hundred other travelers, and sailed the South China Sea for about an hour until they docked at Lantau Island once again. Trappist monk Brother Leo, who lived at Our Lady of Peace Monastery on the island, met them at the dock.
The Trappists were celebrating the one hundredth anniversary of their monastery, which was first established in mainland China and later moved to Lantau Island, technically a part of Hong Kong. The three vowed religious hopped into a jeep and took a twenty minute ride to the monastery. They celebrated Mid-morning Prayer of the Liturgy of the Hours in Chinese. Francis knew only medical Chinese from his vocation as a Chinese medicine doctor, but still understood what was being celebrated because of his years of living the rhythm of monastic prayer. Back in his little monastery in Pennsylvania, a similar service was conducted every day, along with the rest of the Liturgy of the Hours.
A monk who was now one hundred years old shuffled into the chapel almost as spryly as Brothers half his age. He had been born the same year as the monastery was founded. Francis was intensely aware of the commonality of monastic life throughout the world and throughout various religious traditions. He had recently spent time with Buddhist monks and now was with Christian monks. Obviously the latter are rooted in Christ and the former in Buddha consciousness, but the unity among them was palpable. There is room enough for all in this world and in the Church, if only we could let go of our prejudices and our egos. God’s table is wide.
Francis reflected on a term from the Hindu scriptures and teachings. Advatia means “nonduality” the monk remembered. The various aspects of creation are all different but that does not mean that the differences are in conflict with one another. At the deepest level, they are all part of a greater Whole. It is Shakti, the energy of the Divine that propels the entire universe and is the source of our wholeness—if we let it be.
After the liturgical celebration, Brother Leo showed his two guests around the monastery and grounds. Many years ago Brother Leo had been a member of the same religious community that Francis had spent most of his life in as well. God called Francis to establish a small monastic community with the same spirit, that of St. Francis de Sales and St. Jane de Chantal, and Brother Leo to enter a more cloistered order, the Cistercians of Strict Observance, commonly called the Trappists. Father Ignatius had lived all over the world, his father having worked for the United States government. He later joined the Peace Corps and saw even more of the world. After joining the Society of Jesus, commonly called the Jesuits, he spent much of his life in Asia. The twists and turns of following God; how fascinating it is! If only we could do it with grace and peace, and not with anxiety. It makes all the difference.
The monastery had once taken care of a herd of dairy cows in order to support the community. Eventually this was no longer feasible financially or geographically. The old barn and milking room were still there, in quite a bit of disarray after years of neglect. The monks now helped to support themselves by being part of an “electronic scriptorium,” a computer-based way of making money. The community members did data entry into computers for libraries, hospitals, and other large institutions.
Since the population of Asia is so large in relation to the amount of land available for habitation, the government was a little uneasy about the Trappists having the amount of acreage they had. Brother Leo and his abbot thought that if they could have the land declared a wildlife preserve as well as a sanctuary for various trees and herbage, the government might be more tolerant of their situation. This is indeed what came to pass. The land was lush with trees and vegetation of every sort. In return, the acreage was all cultivated, studied, and written about.
Trappist monks spent much of their time in silence and rarely leave their monasteries. This was the Order of the famous monk named Thomas Merton. Merton left his monastery rarely, then only for some medical appointments. The one time he was permitted to leave on a major trip he went to Bangkok to give a presentation on monastic interreligious dialogue. A gathering of Christian, Hindu and Buddhist monastics was present. After his presentation, he retired to his quarters to take a shower. He unwittingly touched a faulty electric fan and was electrocuted. Rumors of murder, suicide, and a plan that he was about to desert his abbey anyway abounded. The body of this monk, who found himself in trouble with both his abbot and society by quietly working for peace during the Vietnam War, was ironically and graciously flown back to America in a United States Army plane. He is buried in the Abbey’s graveyard at Gethsemane, Kentucky where he spent most of his life.
Ignatius and Francis were honored and excited when they were escorted into the confines of this cloistered community. They saw every nook and cranny of the place and, after the Eucharistic celebration marking the one-hundredth anniversary, which began at noon, they enjoyed a meal with the Trappist community—and even talked during it. Usually a monk reads a spiritual book to the community during meals.
Even though Francis was having the trip of a lifetime, his mind wandered occasionally to his little monastery back in Pennsylvania. He hoped that all was peaceful there. He also knew that being in monastic life was no insurance policy against dealing with the ups and downs of life. It could, in fact, pull one so deeply into the mystery of life that there were indeed more challenges and adventures in a monastery than in lay life. At least that’s what Francis’ two Philadelphia police officer brothers told him.
Jeff was very annoyed at the fact that Mutt had not been around much. He was doing all of the guarding of their captive, Brother Matthew. His round little body was filled with anger and fear. What was going on in Mutt’s life? Something must be up. Matthew entertained himself by singing psalms, rerunning old adventures in his mind, and placing his trust in God. He was convinced that he could get away from these two bungling jailers but thought that if he did so he would never get to the root of what their motivation was, and maybe not even discover who they were. Matthew was concerned that his community would be wondering about him but he didn’t have too many options at present. His abbot was away and the novice monk knew that the others would do whatever they could to find him.
Brother Matthew had also been working on Hester Von Kiel. He was helping her to lighten up and loosen up. Hester was responding surprisingly well. God invites us all to inner freedom, Matthew was convinced, and Hester was finding it. She had a mind that was inquisitive, and a personality that was forceful. If the others in the community were not proactive in seeking him out, he believed that Hester would be. She is not the kind of woman to sit around and wait for things to happen. Hester is a doer.
Matthew was drawn out of his deep thoughts by the faint sound of a car outside.
A late model silver Subaru Sedan slowed down in front of the rickety wooden stairs leading to the porch and farmhouse. A man in his late forties, with thick wiry brown hair, stepped out of the car. A woman with similar hair and build matching his five foot ten frame opened the passenger door and got out also. They looked like the older men or women who begin to look like their pet dogs after years of caring for the pet. It would probably be unmannerly to guess which person was pet and which was human in terms of this couple. They carried matching black briefcases and were both dressed in dark colors. Joel and Rachel Fenstermacher were hesitant to take on this case and proceeded with caution.
While Catholic religious communities were not without their faults, they had so much canonical legislation and history behind them that they almost never had the signs and symptoms of a full-blown cult. Mutt Simko had asked the Fenstermacher’s in as consultants on this case. They both had master’s level training in group dynamics and deprogramming. When the actual deprogramming cases were not numerous, they gave lectures and workshops on the same topic to anyone who would listen. Their income was not lucrative but life was indeed interesting. A book was also in the making.
Their preliminary background check on the Salesian Monastery indicated that the community followed a Church approved rule of life and that they had the freedom to come and go pretty much at will. The members were also permitted to be in contact with family and friends. Such contact was, in fact, encouraged. All of these things suggested a healthy community rather than a cult. The only question in their minds was how obsessed they might be with their leader, Abbot Francis de Sales. They simply didn’t know him or have enough information in that area. Obsession with a leader was a major factor in the life of any cult.
Jeff swung the old screen door open, practically knocking it off the hinges it was barely attached to. He welcomed the two deprogrammers, explaining that Mutt had not been around much that day but that they were very welcome. He was, in many ways, relieved to see them. Jeff had been growing more and more anxious about the entire situation. Jeff was a single guy who retired early from his job and who would not be missed for a few days, but he still was not comfortable with the responsibility of holding a prisoner and now introducing the deprogrammers to the captive. What had been a playful adventure last night was turning into a nightmare. He banged on the door of the holding cell and shouted: “You’ve got some visitors, monk.” The three people walked into the more than strangely appointed room. On the floor sat the surprisingly peaceful young man, secured by chains around his ankles, which were then fastened into the wall. The couple gave a mutual shutter and looked at each other. What have we gotten ourselves into?
“Well, I’ll leave you three alone to get acquainted,” mumbled Jeff as he backed out of the door and slammed it shut as securely as the door would allow. Rachel and Joel peppered Brother Matthew with question after question. They rephrased and repeated the questions over and over again. The Fenstermacher’s talked for hours, attempting to fatigue and confuse their target, and thus weaken him into talking about things which might be held secret by the community. It was dark, late, and very cold when they finished. Matthew drifted off into a troubled and exhausted sleep as the couple drifted into the next room—the parlor. Jeff was asleep on the couch and jumped up like a sack of potatoes bouncing on a flatbed truck when he heard the door open.
Rachel spoke for the couple: “Joel and I see absolutely no evidence of this young man being programmed in any way. What we do see is someone who has made a very rational and well-thought out response to a call he believes God has given him. We suggest that you let this man go as soon as possible so that you do not compound the crimes you have already committed. We wash our hands of the entire matter.”
Jeff looked at the couple in amazement. His partner assured him that Brother Matthew was part of a cult and that he had been thoroughly brainwashed. Mutt also said that this was the reason that Matthew broke his engagement to Mutt’s daughter, Christi, and eventually entered the monastery. Their attempt to deprogram him now, during the month of December, was doing him a favor, Mutt had proclaimed. Brother Matthew was scheduled to take his simple or temporary vows the following month, on January twenty-fourth, the Solemnity of St. Francis de Sales. Even though the Church requires that the initial vows be made yearly for three to nine years in the case of this monastery, Mutt knew through his daughter that every Salesian monastic novice must have it in his or her heart that these vows would be for life. The temporary vows were really a concession on the part of the Church to help a candidate think through with complete freedom what he or she was doing when taking such a major step in life. Don’t sound like much of a cult to me, now that I think about it.
Jeff’s adventure with Mutt was becoming more serious and more dangerous by the hour. Mutt was nowhere to be found and Jeff was left with all of this responsibility, and now realized that the basis for it, rescuing a person from throwing his life away because he was brainwashed, was no longer even a valid assumption.
He grasped for straws, but with little enthusiasm. “Are you sure? These brainwashed people can be pretty tricky, can’t they?”
Joel spoke this time. “Yes, they certainly can, Jeff. That is why we spent so much time with Brother Matthew. We confused him and we fatigued him and he continued to respond in a rational way. He really knows that he is free to make this commitment, and every bit as free not to make it. We did this evaluation as a favor to Mutt but want to, like Pontius Pilate did with Jesus, wash our hands of the entire matter.”
Rachel concluded the deprogrammers’ visit to the old farmhouse by telling Jeff that if he did not release Matthew soon that they would be forced to go to the authorities in order to protect themselves.