WELCOME

WELCOME to the "Millennial Monk," a fictional story placed in

the Future.  It's about not only an experimental monastic group,

but also about a pioneering monk-architect dedicated towards

building and teaching in areas that support the sustainability of

burgeoning populations in the 21st century.

To follow the story, go to the very last post, which is the 

Introduction and work your way forward.

(2) Passing the Torch

In the meanwhile I continue to ponder, sitting comfortably

in the garden.  Like any elderly person, I suppose, I tend

to remember so many of friends and family--especially

those who have passed on.  In particular I oft dwell on the

memory of my good friend Brother Philip, who was so

instrumental in changing the course of my life.

Occasionally I do wonder whether I have been a successful

monk.  It somewhat bothers me, that maybe I haven't really

followed the monastic vocation more specifically.  Still long

ago the Millennial Monasteries started out as an 

experimental community that emphasized  that the 

"Lord's Service" was to serve in God's good world,

working for the benefit of God's good people,  

It's just that I chose a somewhat different route,  Whereas

most of our monks worked teaching theology and religion,

others in medical and some technical fields, I was nearly the 

lone wolf when it came to architecture.  Still I managed a 

focus that was true (in a sense) to the ideas behind 

Eco-Spirituality.  And there's no doubt that one of the

greatest challenges of this 21st century of the New 

Millennium has been that of Sustainability of our populations.  

Anyway, I believe that in some strange way I managed to

merge both my monastic and architectural vocations to

support this great effort to "sustain" and keep well our

people here in the San Diego area.  And from what i have

learned, many are continuing this effort throughout the

country.  For me, it has been a spiritual effort doing this.

Oh I must now be off.  Evening prayers are calling, then

a good night's sleep.  

(1) Passing the Torch

Now having retired from Southwestern some ten years ago, 

I am indulging looking back.  It's easy to consider my 

passing the torch--if you will--when it comes to those 

wonderful students I taught at Southwestern,  A goodly 

number of them went on to become successful architects, 

and some especially advanced Environmental Design 

when it came to the buildings and facilities they developed.

Sitting here on my bench in our lovely garden, I now 

ponder mostly about the Past,  Goodness, what else

should an 85 year old do!  It wasn't all about Southwestern,

however,  In the midst of my teaching duties I also still

did some  work on a few new monasteries that the

Millennial Monasteries contracted with my old 

architecture firm,

Fortunately I wasn't the lead architect, first tutoring than

assisting a young bright architect who the firm designated

to work on these new monasteries,  Specifically I assisted

him in designing a fascinating monastery in New Mexico,

near Santa Fe,  We chose a form of Pueblo architecture

for this particular monastery.  Later we worked together

up near Seattle, building a new monastery in the Pacific

Northwest,  We decided  on a Japanese motif when it

came to the buildings--and I thoroughly delighted 

creating some wonderful natural Japanese gardens 

that enhanced the property.

Of course, too, I continued teaching periodic retreats

when it came to Eco-Spirituality.  But I have fellow monks

much younger than me who have jumped into this full

force,  They are the future and have already added loads

of new material to this retreat,  

So it would seem that I have left my interests, my dedication

over the years in good hands, whether at Southwestern or

the building of new monasteries.  Have to smile because

my young protege at the firm has recently been asked to

design two new Millennial monasteries in Florida and

Louisiana.  It would seem our squatting monks are moving

into a whole new territory, expanding from the Western 

states to the South.

I had to laugh when my young protege suggested I might

fly out to Florida with him.  He wanted to take me on a

tour of the Everglades.  Sounds like an interesting 

proposal.  Though I have been walking with a cane for

awhile, I mused over the prospect  of using it to ward off

an attacking alligator.  What's stopping me?  Maybe I will

go visit the Everglades!

(3) Teaching Time

Also, since I was a teenager, California has been installing

desalination plants up its coastline from the San Diego region all

the way to the Monterey Bay area.  However I chose to visit two

of the oldest plants in our region, in nearby Rosarito, Mexico.

The Rosarito desalination  plants were sponsored initially not

only by Mexico but the local San Diego Water Authority.  Thus they

were included as part of the string of such facilities up the California

coastline.  And they were by far the largest of all these plants that

provide desalinated water from the Pacific Ocean.

The Mexican company was very hospitable and agreed that I could

periodically bring my Southwestern students down for tours, which

it would provide.  Without going into a lot of detail, a desalination

plant pipes in salt water from the ocean, where via reverse osmosis

the brine is separated from the water supply.  And eventually this

desalinated water is piped into the regional water supply.

Finally satisfied, I prepared my courses on Energy and Water

Resources and was ready to become a teacher.  And I happily

taught dedicated students for some 20 years, until I retired at the

tender age of 75.  Looking back I think I was even more satisfied

teaching the young than I was actually working as an architect

building facilities dedicated to the idea of Sustainability.  Perhaps

I felt by passing on my knowledge to the young would go a much

longer way than just designing a building here and there.

(2) Teaching Time

San Diego County has a number of water reclamation facilities,

but I chose to visit the one in South Bay, situated literally next

to the International Border between the United States and Mexico.

It was one of the oldest of such facilities, but it was also the closest

to the university.  The staff there were very gracious and really

provided me with an in-depth tour along with architectural designs,

operation manuals, etc.

I was really surprised how huge this facility was, in that it took a lot

of hiking around.  In more ways than one, it took my breath away.

Anyway, I came to learn that it was about purifying waste water,

so that it can be reclaimed.  The procedure was as follows: the waste

water would blow into what is called the Primary Sedimentation

Basins.  The solids would sink to the bottom of the tanks.  "Scum"

(grease and cooking oil)  would float to the surface.

The raw sludge is sent back to the sewer system, and after the

"scum" is skimmed, it, too, is returned to the sewer system.  After

these steps, the waste water mixes with bacteria that eat soluble

organic material; and, eventually, the waste water flows into what

is called Aeration Basins where diffused air is pumped into the

water.  At this point the bacteria start to ingest and digest the

organic solids.  There are continuous second stages to this process.

But, finally, the treated water can either be discharged into the ocean

or bay--or moved onto additional treatment for reclaimed

water applications.

After visiting the older water reclamation facility in the South Bay,

I arranged a tour at one of the newer Advanced Water Purification

Facilities that "met all applicable drinking water regulations."  The

oldest of these advanced water facilities was built back in 2011,

but several others followed since.  In a nutshell, as put: waste

water reuse has become a part of not only California's but the

nation's water supply portfolio.

There's very careful testing at these advanced facilities.  Such

testing included flushing out not only microbial contaminants 

and other pollutants, but also pharmaceuticals that aren't

regulated in drinking water.

Need I say that I was more than impressed by all the effort involved,

not only in the building of these special water reclamation facilities

but additionally the careful architectural design that supported the

process.  These water reclamation facilities proved to be an

"eye-opener" for me, so I fully expected they would impress my

students too!

(1) Teaching Time

Chapter 8.  Teaching Time

The Southwestern Vocational University is located not too far 

from the monastery, so the few days a week that I taught there

I could commute.  The arrangement made me happy in that 

finally I could live permanently at our monastic home up in

the San Ysidro Mountains.

As for the university itself, more than 30 years back it was only

a community college; however, the various community colleges

in California eventually evolved into vocational universities.

It was decided back then that the need for seriously academic

training, directed towards specific vocations, was needed to

meet the job standards of an ever growing high technology

economy.  The vocations were more diverse than expected, 

hence new schools within these vocational universities kept

emerging.  Hence Southwestern's Architecture School was a

recent addition.  Consequently there was a need for teachers,

thus I was hired and slid into a nice slot: Professor of

Environmental Design.

Before I even reached the point teaching students, I was given

time to develop my course that I would teach in-house, 

via video, and online--as well as arrange tours of facilities.

I focused on the subject of Sustainability for all my courses.

California was burgeoning with huge populations, and especially

its Energy and Water resources were the main issues when it

came to sustaining these populations.

It was easy aiming in on the Energy resources, because I had

worked for years in these areas--ranging from photovoltaic

roofs to designing new geo-thermal plants.  On the other hand

I couldn't claim a background when it came to the design of

the Water resources that were necessary for California and

its future.

So I had to arrange some serious time contacting special 

Water facilities in the area, talking to the designers, to the

people who worked there, taking tours myself, before I could

even begin to map out a course on this important and

necessary resource.

(3) Inner Work

To make a long story short, I eventually discovered what Jungians

call the Animus--the major masculine archetype--and the Anima, 

who represents the major feminine archetype that prevails in a 

person's mental landscape.  Beyond these major archetypes there

are secondary archetypal forces that prevail in this inner world of 

the psyche.  The focus of dream analysis is to understand how these

archetypes speak to us, how they determine who we are, who we

become.

Much to my amazement, my personal Animus represented himself

as a monk--robed, but wearing a warrior's boots.  And my Anima

presented herself as a woman I knew who was a scientist and teacher.  

Philip oft asked me what these descriptives meant to me.  It took time 

to bring forth what they meant, but eventually I determined the

significance of such for me.

Yes, I was meant to be a monk--but one who lived and worked out

in the world.  As a monk-warrior I very much spiritually engaged the

issue of sustainability: i.e., as an architect engaged in Green 

Architecture, as one who focused on the major issues in my region

where the major requirements were about Energy and Water.

And much to my amazement even before I was *conscious* of

any of this, I was unconsciously, naturally, living out this archetypal

map.

I found, too, that I had to attend more to my personal Anima.  She 

was represented by a woman who was a scientist and teacher.  

Philip got me thinking what this might mean for me.  I had taught

a retreat seminar about EcoSpirituality over the years at the

monastery, but I felt that now I had to extend more out into the

world in some significant way.

Perhaps blind luck, but at this point a friend at the nearby 

Southwestern Vocational University contacted me, informing me

that a teaching position at the Architectural School was open--and

would I be interested?  Indeed I was, and soon I found myself in a

new capacity: as a Professor of Architecture!

(2) Inner Work

After a few weeks talking to Brother Philip about my plight he

suggested that maybe it might be beneficial to undergo a dream

analysis.  I knew that was coming, because before he became a 

monk Philip was a successful Jungian analyst up in San Francisco.

And what he was talking about with me was what Jungians call

the "individuation process."  It was about coming to understand

our psyche's inner world, our archetypal infrastructure that has.

does, and will determine our psychological--and spiritual--

development.

What's important during this process is becoming *aware* of that

inner world, it's repository of symbols that are basically its language.

Usually our dreams are not straightforward.  They can be convoluted.

We need to understand their symbolic lingo in order to even begin

to understand the landscape.

Jung wrote about symbolism, and ever since more and more books

have been published when it comes to the complexity of symbols.

And as we plunge deeper into dream work the analysand need

especially to understand hir own set of symbols.  Eventually we need

go beyond the books.

All this work took time, especially so for a fellow like me.  Outer

directed all my life, I had to bend in a new direction, moving into

a land that was not at all familiar--and sometimes seemingly

bizarre!  It started by *remembering* my dreams.  I had to try to

remember, then write down as soon as possible the details of the

dream.  Happily I found that the more I practiced this, the better I

became remembering my dreams.

After more than a year working through my dreams with Brother

Philip, a picture of my inner world began to emerge.

(1) Inner Work

Looking back with hindsight, of course I knew that my need to 

return to the monastery was connected with what is called a

"midlife transition."  Used to be called a "crisis," but happily we

moved away from that descriptive.  For a good number of years

I had worked nearly non-stop as an architect, and I was more

than tired.  I was exhausted.

Standing back, I realized that I was not only exhausted by the

work but also spiritually.  I believed that I remained a good 

monk, but with retrospect I realized that I was only attending to

the outer aspects of being a monk; i.e. community prayer, 

recommended reading, etc.  Anyway, I began to notice that

I barely was attending to the life of a dedicated monk.

At least at this point I realized that I needed to develop

spiritually, and even I knew that this kind of effort would take

some serious inner work.  Fortunately I knew where to turn,

or rather I should say who I needed to see: Brother Philip.

Brother Philip had retired as a Rector quite awhile ago, but he

continued to serve as a Spiritual Director for the monks at the 

monastery.  Over the years I only engaged in what might be 

deemed peripheral spiritual direction, really fairly superficial I 

suppose.  But these past years I had been incredibly busy serving 

in the world and was content and satisfied most of the time.  

But now I had reached a point in life where my efforts seemed 

redundant, not as meaningful.  And I longed once again for a 

sense of meaning.

Essentially I needed to know *why* I became a monk.

(3) Energy Efforts

As it turned out, I fell in love with the desert.  I kind of surprised

myself.  The Salton Sea, itself, served as an oasis for bird

wildlife.  I never thought of myself as a "birder," but soon I bought

a pair of binoculars plus a bird identifier book and took to this

recent interest rapidly.

Nearby there was also a park dedicated to the wildlife in this area.

I managed to visit this park a number of times during these periods

I spent in the Salton Sea area.  And, actually, my stays in the desert

enriched my sense of Eco-Spirituality.  I took some of the insights

I experienced and employed such in the occasional retreats I gave 

back at the monastery.

However, at this point, I must make mention that all this architectural

work was necessarily spread out over many years.  By the time I 

had assisted in the geo-thermal project, I no longer could rightfully

say that I was a young adult.  Trekking around the desert, I had moved

into my mid-years--and the usual self-reflection that oft comes during

this period of one's life.

Nearing the end of the geo-thermal project, I began to feel dead

tired.  Exhaustion more readily seeped into not only my body. but

into my soul.  I had to struggle to finish my part of the project.  

And while struggling, I came to a life-changing decision.  I decided

to resign from my architectural firm and return to the monastery

full-time.  Plain and simple, I needed very much to be a monk again.

Fortunately my friend, Brother Philip, agreed with me.

(2) Energy Efforts

The years roll by when one is working on projects that not 

only interest them, but also are worthwhile.  From rooftop 

parks and skyscraper forests in the midst of an urban setting,

I moved on to some interesting work out in our nearby desert.

Really different for me!

The local energy company had long ago tapped into geo-thermal

energy.  Even before the Third Millennium, a cluster of geo-thermal

plants had been built near the shore of the Salton Sea.  To make

a long story short, there was a call to develop a more modern

design that utilized advanced technology.  The plan was eventually

to build at least three more geo-thermal facilities in the area.

Using monastic terms I was a total novice when it came to

geo-thermal processes, much less designing a plant.   Again I

weighed in with the engineers who ran the existing facilities.  

Briefly I learned about how geo-thermal power is derived from

radioactive rocks beneath the Earth's surface.  These rocks

naturally emit heat.  The rocks are cracked open and water is

pumped through them and back up to the surface.  Really hot,

the boiling water produces steam, which in turn rotates a turbine.

As I already knew, a geo-thermal plant can take years to build.

At least building alongside the Salton Sea provided a desirable

location.  The computer technology involved in this process is

awesome, but the software has been in place for years.  So the

design of the new plant really wouldn't be as demanding as I 

once thought.  And, fortunately, I was a minor player in this

case, simply assisting the primary architect for this project.

Nevertheless, the project was incredibly time consuming.  Hence

I spent a lot of time out in the desert clime of the Salton Sea.

(1) Energy Efforts

Chapter Six.  Energy Efforts

When I was attending college in San Luis Obispo I actually had 

occasion to visit one of the big solar farms built there much earlier

in the century.  They were vast facilities, consisting of what seemed

miles of solar panels.  So upon return to San Diego and my 

architectural firm, I had anticipated maybe helping design such

a large solar farm out in the back country.  But that wasn't to be.

Large solar farms in the area were pretty much a thing of the past,

especially since the local Indian tribes had put their foot down 

about these massive solar farms encroaching their sacred lands.

Rather, the next step in solar farming was that of designing all 

sorts of buildings with rooftop solar farms.  These roofs were 

different from the photovoltaic roofs that I had worked on earlier.  

Rather, numerous solar panels encompassed most of a given 

building's roof area.  However, it wasn't only a matter of layout--it 

was also about the design of the building itself.  So for about a 

year I was assigned to help with the design of such buildings to 

be built in downtown San Diego.

What was interesting was not only the *production* of energy, 

but also the *reduction* of energy.  In other words, these new

buildings also required a natural cooling system in addition to

air-conditioning which used up energy.  

While working in this area I thought of my college years when

I spent some time in Vancouver, Canada studying the great

conference building  there, noting its great rooftop park that 

even harbored small wildlife.  Of course the large extension to 

the San Diego Convention Center many years ago followed 

along these same lines with a pleasant park built on its roof.

But these current building roofs had no room for roof gardens,

so natural shading material had to be built into the buildings

themselves.  I remembered coming across an architectural

photo of some really early buildings in Athens, Greece that

showed great showers of vines streaming down the entire

length of  these tall structures.  Also, there was the well-known

Tree Towers of Milan, Italy.  Talking to some other architects in 

my office, I wondered how we might follow the same couse.  

We decided to design selected floors to harbor gardens of

hanging vines as well as small trees that could sprout out of

balconies, grow fast, and cover large portions of the building.  

Such could provide shade and natural cooling, as well as 

beautify.  Happily the idea "took," and over the years San Diego 

saw a wonderful forest of these kind of buildings.  

(3) Dakota Dream

Driving a rental car, I made my way to the Crazy Horse Memorial

after I stopped off at Mount Rushmore and paid my respects to 

four of America's great presidents.  And upon arrival at the

Memorial, I was equally impressed by the gigantic sculpture

of Chief Crazy Horse.  The sculptors had been working for

decades, and now the memorial was near completion.  

I also stopped to visit the Native American Cultural Center

with its banners of all the great Nations hanging from the

rafters.  Lots of information to be found there, including a great

bookstore!  While in the bookstore I got to talking with one of

the Sioux who worked there.  We talked about the environment,

about God's good Creation.  During the conversation he made

mention a Sioux spiritual teacher who taught at the Center's

adjacent college dedicated to the study of Native American

Culture.  Her name was Sarah Shining Water, and she lived

in Rosebud Reservation.  After more conversation, this good

gentleman suggested that I might like to meet Sarah.  

I was very open to the idea, so we walked over to the Center's

college, found Sarah's office, knocked on the door, and luckily

found her.  After introductions, she invited me to spend some

time conversing.

During the course of the conversation, I discovered that she

was the author of numerous books about the Spirituality of the

American Indian--and more especially, she had related much

of this Spirituality with what we call Eco-Spirituality.  So it came

as no surprise that I suddenly issued an invitation to her, to

come and teach a special course at the Millennial Monastery 

California.

While driving back to Rapid City, I realized how significant this

reoccurring dream was.  I recognized that the dream had come

as a gift, if you will.

To push forward some--over time, Sarah did visit our monastery

numerous occasions throughout the century.  Together we crafted 

a special retreat presentation that she would provide periodically.  

Our guests truly enjoyed her special wisdom--as did I--and Brother

Philip especially valued her presence whenever she came to

teach.  And Sarah proved to be a gift for me, in that she became

a lifelong friend!

(2) Dakota Dream

We built the new monastery over a period of some eighteen 

months.  During that period I spent a lot of time overseeing the 

project, bunking in one of those trailers.  It took awhile getting 

started, in that I had to collaborate with a local architectural firm 

in Rapid City--especially when it came to considering and 

eventually purchasing cold weather building materials.  I also 

had to work with one of their architects when it came to the few 

tornado shelters we would install at the monastery.

But I am getting ahead of myself.  To begin, I divided the layout 

of the Dakota monastery into four sections, acknowledging the 

emphasis on the Four Directions so honored by the Plains Indians.  

The main entrance from the nearby trunk road was fortunately 

located at the East section.  This was important, because the 

East direction represents "Childhood."

Since monks come in all age groups, we really didn't want to see a

bad habit starting when it came to these representations regarding 

the Four Directions being connected with the subject of spiritual 

development.  For example the South direction represented the 

"Youth."  The West, the "Adult"  and the North, the "Elder."  

As it worked out, we planned for the novice and retreat quarters 

as well as classrooms to be placed in the East section, near the 

entrance.  And the monastic living quarters would be interspersed

throughout the other sections of the monastery.  

What proved challenging was the design of the buildings.  From

what I could glean the early Plains Indians lived in both the tipi 

and the earth lodge.  Working through, I designed the central 

chapel in a conical shape supported by strong struts.  As for the 

outside of the chapel, it was beige in color with various designs 

painted on it.  The designs were chosen by the monks living on 

the grounds.  As for the monastic lodgings, true to the configuration 

of the Indians' earth lodges, we designed round buildings painted 

different colors according to where they were situated.  The East 

area was yellow.  The South, red.  The West, a brown color 

in lieu of black.  And the North a creamy white.

In the midst of all this architectural activity there was another 

current stirring me towards a strange adventure.  Maybe it was

because I was sleeping in a strange bunk in a trailer, but over

a period of a few weeks I was having a recurring dream.  This

bothered me, since I never remembered having that kind of

dream before.  

Basically the dream' s setting had me standing in the midst 

of some ancient Indians--and they kept telling me to go see 

Crazy Horse.  When I first dreamt this, I just laughed to myself

upon waking.  But after the third such dream, I made mention

of it to a couple of the Dakota monks.  Older men they said I

should take this recurring dream seriously.  They mentioned

that often dreamwork is connected to the Spirit and one's

development spiritually, and perhaps I should begin such 

work with this recurring dream.  

Well, I had to laugh, wondering out loud who might Crazy

Horse be.  The Dakota monks were astounded that I didn't

know about Chief Crazy Horse, the great Sioux warrior who

lived during the 19th century.  I wondered aloud again, about

going to see him.  It was the monks' turn to laugh.  The dream

was obvious--I needed to go and visit the Crazy Horse

Memorial in the Black Hills.

(1) Dakota Dream

Chapter 5.  Dakota Dream

As it stood, the monks sent up to South Dakota were still in the

process of securing the land for the new monastery.  The land 

was somewhere near the Ellsworth Air Force Base, where some 

of the old missile sites of the Cold War had been deactivated.  

People had been buying into that available real estate for quite

awhile, which was located east of Rapid City.  The Millennial

Monastery organization was in the process of completing the

sale.

In the meanwhile I had started work with my architectural firm

in downtown San Diego.  This meant staying at the monastery's

house located near the center of the city.  When deemed too far

to commute, those monks who worked in the city usually stayed

at the house where they had rooms.  Need I say that we lived

in a fairly large house, since those teaching at the universities

were in the same situation as I.  

But like when I spent a year up at Stanford, we kept in continuous

communication with the monastery back in the San Ysidro

Mountains.  And most weekends I spent back at the monastery,

still giving occasional retreats as well.

However, since I had not yet begun work on the future monastery

up in South Dakota, the firm assigned me to a small solar energy

project underway.  Actually the project was more specific, in that

it involved ingenious ways to install photovoltaic roofs on some 

of the new office buildings being built on the outskirts of the city.

Photovoltaics is a means, long used actually, for generating

electrical power by converting solar radiation into direct current 

electricity.  There are specificl materials involved, such as special 

forms of silicon as well as telluride and copper.  Using solar panels, 

using solar cells, photovoltaics uses these cells to convert energy 

from the sun into a flow of electrons that, in turn, results in a higher 

state of energy.  

At least photovoltaics would be a move into the even larger

field of Solar Energy.  I was thinking of the massive Solar Farms

situated in California's more remote regions, such as in our local

deserts and nearby Mexico.  Alas, I didn't get beyond some of the 

background I needed in regard to photovoltaics before I was 

suddenly swept into the new monastery project.  The land deal 

near Rapid City had been completed, and some of the "squatting" 

monks were already up there in their trailers.  So I had to head to 

the airport and wing my way to Rapid City.

It was early Spring and still somewhat cool.  So I shivered my way

out to the new monastery site, which was less than ten miles from

Rapid City itself.  The land was totally different from that of both

Arizona and California.  I wasn't too surprised, since I had reviewed

maps of the new site.  It was more like meadow lands, near a small

river--or actually a tributary.  As for the Badlands to the east, and

the Black Hills to the west, they seemed like a totally different

environ.  So, upon conversing with the squatting monks I had to

bounce off some ideas about architectural styles when it came

to this new monastery.

Interestingly, a couple of the monks were actually from South

Dakota--and they were adamant that we somehow build a

monastery that reflected the indigenous Indian culture in the

region.  That approach had been something I had considered

as well.  But I would have to confer with the Rectors of both

of our monasteries in California and Arizona.

Via our communication devices this was done in short order.

I was given the "okay" to proceed with some preliminary plans.

This meant learning more about the early Indian housing and

buildings in this Plains region, as well as examining their 

Sacred Architecture.

After some inquiry amongst not only the squatting monks, but 

also with some scholars at the local Indian college in Rapid City,

the Millennial Monastery organization approved of my suggested

layout for the Dakota monastery.  It would follow the outline of the

Four Directions as found in the Medicine Wheel.  

Originally I was concerned that this effort would *not* encroach

upon the sense of the Sacred when it came to the local Indians in

the area.  But after my inquiry, as well as my own research, I 

realized that a good number of different groups and individuals

had built homes and other projects around the concept of the

Medicine Wheel.  Still I was careful not to offend as we began

the work in South Dakota.

(1) Eco-Spirituality

Chapter 4.  Eco-Spirituality

Flying up to San Francisco I had to smile at myself.  Never did I

imagine that I would be living in the Bay Area, especially in the

midst of all the High Tech pioneer companies that really defined

my youth when it came to powerful computers, miniaturization,

and communication viewers.  Even more boggling to me, I was

now a monk who would be sitting square in the middle of all this

incredible creativity!  I felt like a time traveler, moving out

of the monastic realm with its ancient roots into the milieu of

futuristic thinking.

After settling into my room at Stanford, I took the opportunity to

sight see via public transport.  These massive companies in

Silicon Valley seemed like modern temples--and, indeed, in

a way they were!  Our New Millennium is built upon a world

of High Tech that nearly prescribes the livelihood of billions

of people.  That meant "me" as well, as I thought about those

advanced computers and communication devices that were

part and parcel of our study and office back at the monastery.

And returning to my room, I instinctually pulled out my miniature

devices that would keep me in contact with the monastery.

With these devices I could share Lauds and Vespers with my

community back in the monastery chapel.  I could also participate

in the periodic monastic conferences that were held, keeping

up with the activities of the monastery.  And above all, I could

keep in touch with the Master of Monastic Studies as well as

our Rector.  It would seem that no place on Earth was far away,

unless you chose to block it out.  And periodically, yes, I would,

But I had to attend to the business-at-hand the next day, meeting

with my academic mentor.  We talked about my focus, what 

would be my selections when it came to the courses or seminars

I might take over the coming year.  It proved to be a good session,

helping me to make my choices in advance.

My Stanford mentor was particularly interested in my having

been an architect who had trained in the area of Environmental

Design.  Alas, I had to tell him that I hadn't had the chance to

move into this particular field before I moved into the Novitiate.

On the other hand, perhaps one day I'll be back working as an

architect--and, then, perhaps I might be able to get some

experience in this important field.

Mainly I felt that I needed specific training in Ecological Systems

as well as the continuing challenges posed by the environmental

changes we had experienced the past fifty years.  And, finally,

if possible I would like to beam-in on the issue of Sustainability

when it came to California.  Of course the two main concerns

for the Golden State were Energy and Water.

I surprised myself, in that suddenly it seemed that I had a

full plate of interests that likely was far too much for the one-year

program I was about to undertake at Stanford.

Nonetheless, my mentor was pleased and assisted me in

devising an overall plan for the year.  First we had to choose

the two major courses in Religious Studies that I would take

over the year.  Happily, we found them!  One course was

about exploring beyond the "boundaries of traditional religious

practices," and the other would allow the student to "illuminate

how we think about religion now and for the future."

And, additionally, I could monitor a class offered in the

Geological and Environmental Sciences Department that

focused on the issue of "energy and water resources."

I couldn't believe how these combinations of courses along with

my projected individual research projects suddenly seemed to fall

so nicely into place.  I seriously felt that the Spirit was definitely

leading me down this path when it came to Eco-Spirituality--

making it so incredibly obvious, considering the ease in which I

found my way into this excellent Stanford program.

As it turned out, I zipped through my Master's at Stanford

before I knew it.  The year went too fast.  I wrote some

research papers that related to my course work.

One paper proved very helpful for me, in that I was able to write

down what I really felt about Religion.  As I saw it then, when at

Stanford, it seemed static and stale.  It didn't relate to those issues

facing us, not only spiritually but also realistically.  I felt that if

Religion were to impact on our society, it had to address our 

concerns far more directly.  For me, the main concern involved

how we view God or Ultimate Reality.  Forever so long, down

through the centuries, our god imagery hadn't evolved much.

It still circulated on historical figures who lived in the Ancient

World, and we frankly hadn't moved the imagery into our own

Times, into the Modern World.  Indeed, our god imagery seemed

to keep God "out there," not in the world much at all.

As for the Future, about how our god imagery might shift and

change, well I felt that God had to be smack dab in the middle

of the world in which we lived, here and now, concerned over

the issues that faced us, working with us, and that we, in turn,

needed to understand God from the perspective of our modern

knowledge-base.  This meant moving into Evolutionary Theology,

into Natural Theology--both of which connected with not only

Evolution and the New Cosmology--but also our understanding

of Deep Ecology which was about a universal system of 

"relationship."  Everything, everybody was connected, related.

We and our god imagery, within and without, needed to be all

about connection, completeness.

In my research paper I used the analogy that the Historical Jesus

made, about the "Vine and the Branches."  That analogy was not

about a God who was disconnected from the world.  Rather it

was  a "horticultural" analogy, representative really of the

agricultural world in which Jesus lived.  He was close to the

Earth and to the people who worked its land and its waters.

As for "exploring beyond traditional religious practices," that

seemed easy.  I wrote nearly a tome about the Millennial

Monastery, about its new outlook when it came to the

monastic expression.  It was about integrating the old with

the new, so to speak.  It was about the Benedictine Tradition

which the monastery followed, how we examine the different

elements of this great tradition and cast them in a new light,

in a way that connects with our own time and concerns, without

diminishing the original thoughts of St. Benedict.

For example, for centuries the Benedictine Tradition talked of

the "School for the Lord's Service."  It essentially meant that 

the monastery, itself, was this school--and it was not a school

as we tend to think of such.  Rather it was a school where the

monks not only lived up front with one another, a condition--if

you will--that prompted the individual monk to build his or her

character towards the "Christ Life."  It was part and parcel of

Conversatio Morum, a lifetime pursuit towards conversion into

a finer Christian.  But, this process was undertaken in-house,

behind the walls of the monastery.

But the modern Millennial monk saw this School for the Lord's

Service not only existing within the monastery, but also outside

in the world.  Millennial monks "served" the Lord of the Universe

in the midst of Creation, wherever and however they may be 

called by the Spirit.  And, no, it was not about proselytizing.

It was strictly about Service, in whatever way their particular

profession allowed for such.  Simplified, it was about building-up

not only people but God's Creation.

Upon returning to the monastery my preparatory work continued.

Brother Philip gave me my first real assignment as a monk,

working into becoming a retreat master in Eco-Spirituality.  He

expected a synopsis of how I would present a weekend class

to visitors on this subject.

Hence my rector sent me scurrying off to my rooms, where I spent

a good two weeks trying to work through such an outline.  How to

start was the most difficult part.  Indeed, I spent more than a couple

of days sweating over how to begin.  Eventually, I decided to ease

into this class by quietly discussing the history of the earlier

Benedictine monastics when it came to their connection with Nature.

After doing some research, I discovered that the very kernel of

ancient Benedictine prayer, the Psalms, contained many images

of Nature.  And moving into the medieval period of the Benedictines,

I found the great Abbess Hildegard of Bingen.  She not only was a

theologian and philosopher, but was an early cosmologist who believed

that human nature was a microcosm of Creation.  Above all, I focused

on her poem "Oh Ignis Spiritus Paracliti."  To quote:

"Oh fire of the Holy Spirit,

life of the life of every creature,

holy are you in giving life to forms...

Oh boldest path,

penetrating into all places,

in the heights, on earth,

and in every abyss,

you bring and bind all together,

From you clouds flow, air flies,

Rocks have their humours,

Rivers spring forth from the waters

And earth wears her green vigour

Oh Ignis Spiritus Paracliti."

Then, historically, I moved on to the Cistercian Order, founded 

by St. Bernard of Clairvaux, who lived in the 12th century c.e.

The Cistercians also lived according to the Rule of St. Benedict,

hence they became part of the Benedictine Tradition.  St. Bernard

emphasized harmony between the natural beauty of the monastery

site and the monastic life within it.  For him Nature needed in our

mind to become fertile and purposeful.  Hence irrigation projects

not only provided fish, but sport, and gardens provided not only

food but honest physical labor.  As has been put: " Creation repays

human care by aiding people physically and spiritually."

Moving on there were others--especially in more recent times--

pioneers who began edging into the movement that we have

come to know as Eco-Spirituality.  For example, there's the

Trappist Charles Cummings, the Jesuit Pierre Teilhard de Chardin,

the Passionist Thomas Berry, the Dominican and later Episcopalian

Matthew Fox, and the Franciscan scientist Ilia Delio.

Finally, I felt that we could point out the special gardens we had

constructed right here at the Millennial Monastery California.  How

we had integrated the plant material with the natural environ

that surrounded us.

Of course there was much more to come as I slowly eased into

presenting an Eco-Spirituality retreat.  I naturally emphasized the

long held concept of Stewardship.  But especially, too, I began to

get into the application of Scientific Cosmology, Natural Theology,

as well as Eco-Spirituality with the issues that have seriously

challenged our world in the 21st century.  Mainly these issues

were Environmental and Ecological Health and Sustainability.

After about a half-year of gingerly giving a few of these weekend

retreats on Eco-Spirituality, my Rector called me into his office.

I hadn't done too badly with the Eco-Spirituality retreat, so I figured

that Brother Philip was probably going to ask me to develop another

retreat format.  Wrong, totally wrong!  Was I ever in for a big surprise.

Easing me into a comfortable chair the Rector said that after

discussing my future with the head of the Millennial Monastery 

in Arizona it was decided that after I take my permanent vows as 

a monk I should return to my work as an architect.  As for my

Eco-Spirituality retreat, I would continue to give it periodically.

But all that my ears could seem to hear was the continuous

ringing of the word "architect."  I nearly swooned with joy.  It had

been close to three years since I had practiced my former

profession, and I wondered aloud how I might re-enter the

field.  Brother Philip laughed, and said "not to worry."  There

was a plan.

Again my ears perked up.  The plan was this--the lead monks of

both the Arizona and California monasteries decided that it was

time to erect yet another Millennial monastery.  They had chosen

a site in South Dakota.  And now they considered me their

"resident architect," if you will.  So--not only with the planned

monastery for South Dakota, but with future monastic houses

they hoped to build over the next 20 years or so--I would be in

charge as "their" architect.

This meant reconnecting with my old firm in San Diego.  The 

Rector felt that when I put a new monastery project (and the 

promise of even more such projects in future) on their plate, my

old managers would be happy to take me back into their firm.

Of course Brother Philip proved correct in this, as we both

happily walked out of my old office onto the busy streets of

San Diego.

There was a "plus," too!  Not only had I been re-hired to be the

primary architect for the new Millennial Monastery Dakota with

a battery of the firm's personnel and resources supporting me--

additionally, Brother Philip subtly but firmly made mention that

surely their management would also allow me to eventually start

acquiring some project experience in Environmental Design.

With monastery "dollar bills" gleaming in their eyes, my old

managers were most compliant.

Nonetheless, there was another priority that a short while later

I fulfilled.  I took my final permanent vows as a Millennial monk.