Fr. Leonard Sargent, Founder of Portsmouth Abbey
by Blake Billings, Ph.D.
A Place of Peace
In a February 9, 1918 issue of America magazine, just over a century ago and coincidentally in the peak year of our last great international health crisis, Michael Williams – who six years later founded Commonweal magazine – wrote an intriguing article called "A Place of Peace." It was about a new venture being undertaken by a convert Benedictine monk. The monk was Leonard Sargent, and the venture upon which he was embarking was a monastic foundation, to be "situated near New York, yet withdrawn from all suggestions of the city." For Williams, Sargent's aim touched a deep chord, one resonating with what he called a growing "lay-retreat movement." In 1918, amidst an overly "busy life," Williams saw this movement as seeking a "spiritual sanitorium," a "place of healing," a "place of spiritual balm." This "place of peace" – from the Benedictine motto "Pax" – he found in Sargent's priory.
His description of the place sounds remarkably contemporary: "great architects are aiding to create its form; celebrated artists are gladly cooperating in the decoration of its inspiring church…" The picture is uncannily prescient, as the place was at the time merely imagined, written well before Belluschi or Lippold took center stage at Portsmouth. Indeed, it was written before Leonard Sargent had even secured the Hall Manor property and established the monastery. Williams articulates in 1918 a vision he somehow discerns and wistfully imagines in Leonard Sargent's efforts, tapping into a spiritual search that over time many have seen fulfilled in the monastic journey. He ends up drawing a picture pointing to details inspiring the Portsmouth ideal: "what my soul has been longing for all these years: the true music of Mother Church, the plain chant"; "the powerful and elevating influences which radiate from the Church in her beauty."
Williams then describes the community that had, at the time of his writing, already actually become a reality. Sargent called the group the "Association of the Clients of Saint Benedict," establishing it September 8, 1914, the Feast of the Nativity of Mary, "under the patronage of Our Lady and Saint Benedict." One in fact discerns here an outline of the early roots of a community of oblates, already taking shape. After a priory was to be established, the Association would have the opportunity to become "a proper Confraternity." Williams lists its forming principles and mission:
(1) To ensure the united prayers and the good works of those interested in the establishment in America of a Benedictine house, a subject-priory of Downside Abbey (England), until condition shall warrant its separate existence;
(2) To foster in the members of the Association a knowledge of Benedictine history and traditions, and an esteem for the liturgical worship of the Church.
Michael Williams
This invitation, extended by Leonard Sargent to the laity, seems intended to kindle the fire of monastic oblation. As our own website tells us: "Oblates are a type of confraternity with a special devotion to the Rule of Saint Benedict, applying its spirit and principles to their lives in the world, outside the cloister, in so far as this is possible." We find here today, as in Sargent's Association, a twofold invitation: to Benedictine life and to a particular monastic community. In 1914, this meant a monastic community not yet even in existence. As the hospitality of a monastic retreat was not yet possible, an invitation to "united prayers" and "good works" was all that could be initially offered. Sargent developed further what served as the pragmatic constitution of this association. Requirements of membership included: "(1) a memento at Mass, or any daily prayer, for the purposes of the Association; (2) the medal of St. Benedict to be worn; and (3) the payment, upon admission only, of a membership fee of one dollar."
Our present-day oblates can see in this Association, established by Leonard Sargent even before the monastic community came into existence, the origins of the oblates of Portsmouth. In a letter to Williams, Sargent expresses simply in 1918 how timely is this timeless vocation to Benedictine life:
"In your article I should be grateful if you can make it clear why we are at the work now. After the war there will be much to do in spiritual contributions to the readjustments of life, and a Benedictine house can surely do its part in this. Cardinal Gasquet [a Benedictine who served as prior of Downside and abbot president of the EBC] said once that when the struggle had brought peace many would be turning to the spiritual and away from the merely material values of life and we have had for fourteen centuries an offering of Pax to the world-weary people of all times"
For the likes of Michael Williams, in the world, yet recognizing a need for "withdrawal from the rush and bruising conflict of the world," Sargent's ambitious plan embodied "a place of peace." A century later – a mere century, in the now more than fifteen centuries of Benedictine life – Williams' assessment seems no less true: "the country requires the influence and the powerful assistance of the contemplative life."
Catalina, Alvaro & Clarita with the monks. The Manquehue Apostolic Movement in Chile has many lay oblates.
Do we still hear this call to prayer, to a listening with the ear of the heart, to a withdrawal from a busy and bruising world, a mere century after Michael Williams articulated his own invitation? The invitation extended to the Association of the Clients of Saint Benedict, initiated by Leonard Sargent four years before he settled on Portsmouth, expresses the very same invitation offered to our present-day oblate community. The Portsmouth oblate, we say, "observes the spirit of the Holy Rule in order to deepen a life of prayer and becomes a better Christian in the practice of faith through good works in the love of God and neighbor. By becoming an affiliate with a particular house, the Oblate shares in the spirituality of the community and becomes, in a certain sense, a member of that community, a part of the extended family, as it were."
May our oblates again seek this advent of peace! May we find anew this Benedictine pax, again discover here a "place of healing", again be moved by the same ideal of Sargent and of Williams, again benefit from the patronage of Our Lady and Saint Benedict. Recovering these origins of our community's oblates, we should not overlook the fact that their prayers predate the establishment of the monastery itself. Their association and their commitment to Portsmouth were to pave the way, Sargent saw, through prayer and good works, for its very existence. Given a century of experience, we have reason to hope in the efficacy of that prayer and the significance of that oblation. And a century on, oblates still look forward to a new advent in this monastic community, for which, and now with which, they pray.