Every Path is Different

Dom Philip Wilson

Although I was born and grew up only a few miles from the former Portsmouth Priory, I didn’t even really know it existed in those days. My family were Baptists and the difference in religions would have made the distance seem even greater.

Nevertheless, it was there that I met Dom Hugh Diman, a Roman Catholic convert and a monk of Portsmouth Priory as well as founder and long-time headmaster of its School. Since I was preparing at that time to be received into the Catholic Church, he invited me to visit him at the Priory.

I did so shortly afterward and knew almost immediately that it was where I wanted to spend my life. And so I have, working as a teacher and housemaster for many years.

In the beginning, I had difficulties, as did many monks, in accepting the changes in our monastic life arising from the decrees of Vatican II. The result has been a rather different monastic life than I had ever expected. But nevertheless I have been, and continue to be, happy and content with doing the work given me, which I hope is also God’s work.

Dom Edmund Adams

I was born in Cambridge, Massachusetts in 1939 and attended many schools, including Portsmouth Priory. I graduated from Suffolk University and received my PhD in English literature from the University of Washington. Then I became an assistant professor of English at the University of Toledo, where I taught for 13 years.

There were two periods of withdrawal from Catholic faith, from the ages of 17-22 (when I nearly converted to Judaism) and another from about 28-36. Whenever I turned back to the faith, I called two beloved monks of Portsmouth, Dom Bede Gorman and Dom Andrew Jenks.

By the time I was 37, I realized my life had no center beyond my apartment. It lacked dedication and consecration. When I visited Portsmouth Abbey in 1978, I felt immediately at home, for life.

Living at Portsmouth Abbey has been largely defined by monastic and sacerdotal rhythms. But I have also been engaged in an unpredictable variety of other activities ranging from coaching baseball to running a radio station with my own program to running a dormitory to teaching Christian doctrine.

I have realized with full certainty that God has placed me in this life in part to preserve me from what I would have made of my life without Him. And that I might serve Him in ways known to Him but not to me. I thank God with all my heart for the gift of a life of love in Portsmouth’s unique prayerful simplicity.

Dom Julian Stead

When I am asked what I’ve enjoyed most about being a monk at Portsmouth, my answer is “The other monks.” (And, of course, receiving Holy Communion daily and living under the same roof as the Blessed Sacrament because they make my life here possible).

The monks are all very different, but I doubt that I could have found an equally reliable source of human support, guidance, tolerance and enjoyment elsewhere. In addition, the natural setting could hardly be more beautiful, which contributes to my overall sense of serenity.

Influenced by an uncle who was something of a role model, my dream as an adolescent was to become a Marine, then a prizefighter, and finally a country gentleman. But I began to feel, with dismay, that God wanted me to become a monk. I did not expect that I would find happiness in monastic life, but to get rid of that nagging feeling, I applied and the monks granted me entrance.

After two weeks I realized the life felt quite natural. The rest, as the saying goes, is history. Had I made any other choice in life I am sure it would have ended in disaster for soul and body—and unhappiness for others. But instead, I have received from the monastery much more than I have given.

Dom Ambrose

From the first moment of my conversion to Catholicism at the age of twenty, I felt drawn to Portsmouth. I had yet to finish college, serve two years on active duty in the US Navy, and teach for two years more at a well-known New England prep school before trying my monastic vocation in 1958. Fidelity to prayer was, I think, the most important part of this preliminary period.

Now that I have been a monk here for over 53 years, I know that other factors have contributed to my perseverance. For one, no matter where you go, indoors or out, you are surrounded by great beauty. For another, I know of no other place in the world more humane, or more divine, in its work, worship, and ethos. Over a dozen years ago, I pleaded, “Don’t make me retire!”

Today, I remain active and I feel entirely wed to the place – my heart, especially. For it is written “The heart that gives, gathers.” I keep on gathering.