Priceless life of a monk

ST. MEINRAD, Ind. - They still wear their same black robes. Their rooms are spartan as ever, and still called cells. And the soothing Gregorian chants echo deep from these sandstone walls — just as they have for 150 years.

For the monks of St. Meinrad Archabbey, life follows immutable rhythms: Bells peal from towers, noon prayers are read, breakfast and dinner are eaten in silence.

Not much can change this brotherhood of holy men who have taken a vow of poverty. Not war, not peace, and certainly not money.

Not even a gift of nearly $27 million.

At St. Meinrad’s, there are many rules and one inescapable reality:

Monks live by needs, not wants. Money is not coveted, not even considered in many everyday decisions.

So when the Rev. Lambert Reilly, leader of the archabbey, recently announced that two longtime benefactors — both elderly women — had willed St. Meinrad’s nearly $27 million, the monks were grateful and surprised, but not inclined to celebrate.

“We’re guys, first of all,” the Rev. Tobias Colgan, St. Meinrad’s prior, explained with a laugh. “And we’re guys who are monks. … We lean more toward the introverted.”

The exception is Father Reilly, the 71-year-old archabbot who blends a wry wit with a gift for gab. It has fallen to him to explain to outsiders two facts: The monks don’t get the millions and, behind these walls, a lottery-sized windfall is not a temptation. Not even for a minute.

“I still will wear my black wash pants,” Father Reilly said. “In the airport, I’m not going to buy a newspaper. I’ll pick up one from an empty seat. It doesn’t change my life.

“As St. Paul said, you have it or you don’t have it,” he said, “and you learn to live with it either way.”

For 150 years, the men of St. Meinrad have chosen to live without.

The Benedictine monastery is a one-for-all society where everything is shared, from the box of chocolates Father Reilly received as a gift to the television that the monks watch together in the recreation room. Televisions in individual rooms are taboo.

Even spare clothes sent by family and friends are pooled in a “rags rack” that are anyone’s for the taking.

Virtually every need or request, whether it is a new pair of shoes or using one of the fleet of Chevys for an excursion, must be approved by the prior — St. Meinrad’s No. 2 man, who acts as a business manager.

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