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| Br. Stephen Heenan Cistercian Monk |
Brother Stephen Heenan OCSO Cistercian Monk, Nunraw.
Brother Stephen removes a bundle of paper from his habit, On one small square of card he has written: "Lord Jesus teach us to love you more and more". "I just think the words. If I walked about saying it they’d think I was a crackpot.
"You've got to try and get a personal relationship with Jesus. You've got to ask him to help you,
From Edinburgh Evening News, Friday 11th May 2001
Getting into the habit of a spiritual lifestyle
WHEN Donald McGlynn waved the outside world goodbye and took his place in the monastery’ man had yet to travel in space. In those days, half a century ago, the cutting edge of technology was a car that started without a handle. Thing 5 have changed since then, both inside and outside Nunraw Abbey, the monastery among the Lammermuir hills near Haddington where Donald is now the Abbot.
He gazes at the crosses in the monastery's graveyard. "There are more crosses than people here now. When the numbers were even, I use d to glance at the graveyard and say 'The better half is over there'."
Just 17 monks remain at Nunraw, compared to more than 60 in its 1960s' heyday. Most of the monks have been here since the 1950s. It's fair to say that recruitment is a little on the slow side.
Rising at 3,15am end spending your days - and the middle of your nights - in quiet contemplation just can't compete with a company car and share options for today’s bright young things.
Maybe the monks need to offer an attractive relocation package. When you relocate here, it's for life.
Even renowned thinker Prince Charles would think twice about spending the rest of his life at Nunraw. The Prince has just made the news after spending one night in a Greek monastery, If perseverance is worth anything, the monks of Nunraw should have their own chat show and a column in Hello! by now.
Prince Charles's Greek surroundings were as basic as those at Nunraw Abbey were. Each room has a bed, a desk, a wardrobe, a chair and a ... no, that's it. No TV. No PlayStation. Not even a poster of that tennis player scratching her bum.
Nunraw attracts it’s own international guests. The visitors' book includes entries from as far afield as Australia and South Africa. "Thank you for sharing your peace with us," says one visitor from Sydney.
If only they stayed a bit longer than a couple of nights did: 50 years, say.
The Abbot admits to concern about the lack of new blood in his ageing community. "Recruitment has been rather slow in the past year. The average age of the monks is 60-sornething. In 1962 the oldest was in his 40s. He seemed ancient to me then."
The Abbot left his former life in Glasgow to follow his calling. "I had no choice. In a true calling you feel you could not do otherwise" He sees too much choice as the problem for today's would-be monks.
"We live in a secular so society with little place for the sacred. It's happening right across the board in terms of the number of priests and church attendances. There are so many options for young people and religion doesn't really get a look in,
"But those options mean people are under tremendous stress.
"They are immersed in the material but they are aspiring to something more spiritual. People come here and it's amazing how the peace and prayer removes stress. We're not conscious of doing anything special.
"Just being able to walk in the fields and hear the birds works wonders."
For permanent residents, novelty soon makes way to devotion. The early rise is followed by a day of work, prayer and contemplation. Each monk has a regular task, whether gardening, carpentry or cooking. They pray seven times 8 day in the chapel and study some of the 30,000 books.
Such a simple life, untouched by the outside world, uncluttered by technology. You can read all about it on the monastery's website; http;//welcome.to/Nunraaw … (Edit. This Link surface even more).
The Abbot's cousin designed the site and the Abbot is currently u sing it to track the progress of a package to a monastery in Cameroon.
As Cistercian monks, their life is not totally removed from the outside world. They have a TV, used for half an hour on Sundays to watch the news. They drink a glass of wine on feast days.
The current building opened in 1969 and was dubbed "the bargain abbey" because material and labour came from volunteers.
"I once told someone that people had paid to work here," says the Abbot. "He replied 'They paid to work “For God's sake!” I said; 'That is right - for God’s sake'.
Stephen Heenan was 34 when he entered Nunraw Abbey, in the days long before the new premises.
"I followed my brother here when I saw how happy he was, Before that I worked as a bookie in Glasgow. At the shop they were betting that I'd be out in a fortnight,"
Forty-seven years later, all bets on Brother Stephen's return are off.
"I enjoyed myself outside but it's easier to find God in here, I spend my time thinking about God."
Brother Stephen removes a bundle of paper from his habit, On one small square of card he has written: "Lord Jesus teach us to love you more and more". "I just think the words. If I walked about saying it they’d think I was a crackpot.
"You've got to try and get a personal relationship with Jesus. You've got to ask him to help you,
"I speak to youngsters who come here looking for someone to talk to,
"A lot of them have been drinking or taking drugs.
"That can lead to stealing and sleeping rough. I'd never heard about drugs when I was outside,"
Brother Stephen is a good advert for a monastic life. His sun bronzed features look two decades younger than his 81 years. He jokes constantly, making fun of himself and his colleagues. "Do you think your camera can take it?" he asks; the Evening News photographer.
"You have to have a laugh. Were not as bad as we look." He gestures at his robes, "But we couldn't be."
Cistercian monks do not take a vow of silence, which is just as well forth be charismatic Brother Stephen.
He agrees that lack of recruitment to Nunraw is worrying. "A young person now has; the world at their feet. They are not tied down to any one choice. Previous generations had to make a decision for life, whether it was to be a theologian or a bricky.
"The basic principle of a monastic life is that you grow where y’our planted, If a gardener constantly moves a plant it will fail. It has; to be rooted."
In the kitchen Father Hugh prepares lunch. The Abbot thinks Father Hugh has the most important job of all. "Dinner has been late twice in all the time I’ve been here, and that's twice too often,"
Father Mark works in the laundry and the garden. He came here 41 years ago, when he was 20. "There was less of a bridge between the monastic life and the outside world then. People travel abroad now and it's difficult for them to face staying here for the rest of their life." Like all the monks:, he claims not to miss women. "Worsen are still a part of life. Friendship with women doesn't mean marrying or having sex with them."
The Abbot says the outside world can be a complicated place. It is a place he still glimpses and does not miss.
"The oldest priest here is 92. He's in a nursing home at the moment. I went to visit him last month and the Grand National was on TV. It was the first time I'd ever seen it.
"Out of 42 horses, only four finished. I thought: 'Is that it?'"
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