A History Lesson: Monasteries and Monks in the Middle Ages

Our history studies this school year have sent us tumbling down from the height of the Roman Empire straight into the mystery and murkiness of the Middle Ages in Europe. Although this time period is often glamorized in movies, much of what occurred during the Dark Ages was anything but glamorous. Some very stark realities made daily life a struggle. However, one aspect of our studies--medieval monasteries--particularly captured our imaginations and inspired us to stop and spend some time trying to recapture what life might have been like in those early monasteries in England.

We read several nonfiction books on the subject, but one work of fiction, Otto of the Silver Hand by Howard Pyle, drew us right into medieval Germany and opened our eyes to life in a monastery, and perhaps even more vividly, to life outside of the monastery. From the moment we flipped through the pages scrutinizing Pyle's illustrations and reading the introduction, we were hooked:

Between the far away past history of the world, and that which lies near to us; in the time when the wisdom of the ancient times was dead and had passed away, and our own days of light had not yet come, there lay a great, black gulf in human history, a gulf of ignorance, of superstition, of cruelty, and of wickedness.

That time we call the dark or middle ages.

. . . There yet remained a few good men and women here and there (mostly in peaceful and quiet monasteries, far from the thunder and the glare of the world's bloody battle) who knew the right and the truth and lived according to what they knew; who preserved and tenderly cared for the truths that the dear Christ taught and lived and died for in Palestine so long ago.

This tale that I am about to tell is of a little boy who lived and suffered in those dark middle ages, and of how he saw both the good and the bad of men, and of how, by gentleness and love and not by strife and hatred, he came at last to stand above other men and to be looked up to by all. . .

Poor little Otto's life was a stony and a thorny pathway, and it is well for all of us nowadays that we walk it in fancy and not in truth.

We walked slowly through the pages of Otto's life, barely able to put the book aside for our other studies, taking in chapters and chapters at a time and stopping to study the elaborate illustrations along the way. While the author relates Otto's life story, it is the other characters, Baron Conrad, One-Eyed Hans, Old Abbot Otto, and Brother John, who provide the backdrop for the greater story--a story of sacrifice, forgiveness, redemption, and peace in a world of greed, revenge, and violence.

Otto of the Silver Hand set the tone for our study of medieval monasteries, and as we travelled back to this complex time period, we decided to host a monks' dinner, an idea we saw in our history text, The Story of the World, Vol. 2: The Middle Ages. We invited fellow homeschoolers and costume-enthusiasts, the Ruch cousins, and started in on the preparations--the most daunting of which was finding a monk's costume for Ethan.

Being of the no-sewing-skills-and-procrastinator variety, I finally decided I'd buy a square of brown fabric, cut a hole in it for the head, and tie a rope around the waist. Luckily, my sister-in-law Katherine suggested that I try looking at a local resale shop where I might find a blanket or sheet that would be cheaper. We went to St. Vincent's (now affectionately dubbed "The Patron Saint of Costumes") and found a camel-brown blanket that in a completely un-perfectionistic moment, I decided would suffice. While my nieces tried on some clothes, we looked around and saw a costume rack and began combing through it. As I was about to turn away, something brown caught the corner of my eye. I reached for it and pulled out . . .a complete monk costume! What are the odds of finding a hand-sewn monk costume complete with hood and rope belt at a thrift store?!?

We christened our monastery the Abbey of St. Ninian (a little homage to the Redwall series) and made a sign with makeshift bell.

It's always nice when people catch the vision, and the cousins did not disappoint. All five of them came bedecked in medieval and/or church attire. As they entered, all guests revealed their identity including three-year-old Nathanael who announced, "I'm Robin Hood, but you can call me Sheriff of Nottingham." Also much to our surprise, one of our guests was a hermit who lived in the hills behind St. Ninian and who, I believe, was on a pilgrimage.

We prepared homemade whole grain bread and lentil soup, and served pear and apple slices with cheese. We pretended it was Christmas in order to allow butter on the bread. Abbot Ethan read scripture before the meal rather than during the entire meal (a little concession we made), and we enjoyed a meager monks' meal together.

And then the kids played basketball in their costumes . . . probably an influence of the mysterious boy from the future who time-traveled via scooter to appear in this photo: