The more local Trappist abbey, which is in Spencer, Massachusetts, has a farm which among other things produces very nice jellies and jams, which are sold through supermarkets hereabouts (and at their gift shop).

The occasion for the visit was an anniversary of sorts. A friend of mine had a religious experience there when he was on a retreat once, some years ago. Perhaps twenty-five by now. So he went back up the hill one afternoon, with me dragged along as a driver, to commemorate the event. We hung out in the guest house (a very odd little triangular dorm with a likewise triangular courtyard in the middle, an outside door in the middle of one side, and a very modern chapel at the opposite apex. We went to nones, but alas, the visitor's seats in the abbey chapel are placed such that one can see the altar but little else inside the fence.

Their Gregorian chant was awful. I mean, arguably these guys do that professionally, but the precentor was a monk who couldn't carry a tune in a water bottle. Still, it was sincere and simple, and it really is the thought that counts.

We also went to their gift shop, where I bought a book and P bought a crucifix, to replace one that his ex had made him get rid of. He had it blessed by the monk who was minding the store, and also found that the brother who'd been retreat master when he was there before was now in Zaire (well, it was Zaire still at the time of our visit).

In some ways, I guess the visit was a bit of a disappointment to P, but in other ways, of course, you only have these experiences once, or if more than once, each one is a very different kind of a thing.

Perhaps that's why, in medieval theology, angels were thought to be, not a race, like humans, of related individuals, but beings individually created by God, each his/her/its own species. More unique than the snowflakes we are (each unique, just like all the others).

Anyway. Chimay is good stuff. I heartily recommend it. And who says the cloistered monks don't have a ministry in the larger world?