Questioning the Landscape

George could leave the practice, but not the training of the Law! The tools of the lawyer: to observe carefully, question thoroughly, measure, distinguish, evaluate... these things he had learned at his father's knee, and further, came by them naturally. And so after about six months into his monastic training period, (called the novitiate), George began to question a lot of what was going on around him. It all started quite the opposite way. The monastery had brought in an outside speaker for a series of conferences. This Benedictine speaker was critical of a number of aspects of Trappist life. Taking a lot of notes, in his mind and on paper George fought with the various points, in an effort to "defend" the Order. Ultimately, however, he found himself agreeing with most of the criticisms! We should mention that since Vatican Council II (1962-65), many changes have been made in Trappist life, as part of a Church-wide call to renewal.

The Call Within A Call

In the 1950's, the monks of Conyers, Georgia, were in church 8 hours a day! As we said above, the Order had accumulated prayer upon prayer and rule upon rule, over many centuries. The regime made the Rule of St. Benedict look pale. George knew this very well, for as an exercise in learning Latin (the prayer language of the monastery), he had undertaken the translation of the Rule from its original Latin into English. Gradually, the novice began to feel called to do the impossible: To somehow found, begin, initiate a new form of monastic life with an old simplicity. Talk about being called to walk on water!

Determination

Understand: At that time, the task of founding a monastery looked even more impossible than it might appear today. There was an air of "officialdom" about the whole Church. Lay ventures into the business of founding anything new and different would be seen by many as disloyal, and others, as foolish. In the latter camp were George's poor father, Gaius. Just when he was getting used to the idea that his son had left all things to follow Christ in a respectable, understandable and even laudable way... now what could he say? Only that his third son had finally, sure enough lost his mind! Few observers gave the project much chance of success. It even looked preposterous to George himself, but there was that phantasm out on the water, saying, "Don't be afraid; it is I! Come." He felt he had to try, even while praying, "Oh God, why don't you give me a normal vocation? why this?" But after prolonged reflection on the story of David and Goliath, George accepted the lopsided odds, and began to say with the boy David, "If this is indeed God's fight, He will deliver this giant into my hands." After that, there was nothing to do but go forward, even if it meant making a fool of yourself! Over and over came the prayer: "If it be you, Lord, bid me come to you over the water." Over and over again, the Voice said, "Come."

Experiment at West Point, Texas

A friend of the Gannon family, a devout Catholic named Walter B. Van Wart, was willing to help George "try" his new venture. Rent free, Mr. Van Wart "hired" George for a $1 a day to "sort of look after" his ranch in a remote part of Fayette County, near West Point, Texas. George could plant a garden, milk one of the ranch cows (when he could catch her), and otherwise be free to experiment with the Rule of St. Benedict. He went to Mass every day at Plum, Texas. He also learned that living in the country requires a lot more self-reliance than living in the city. If you have a leaky faucet or your car won't start, in the city you can just "let your fingers do the walking." In the country, service agencies are further away, cost more, are harder to get, and take more time. Besides, in the country, on a farm or ranch, there are too many things to break down! Self-reliance becomes "a matter of necessity." These lessons continued to prove useful over the years.

The Peach Creek Place

What the monastic founder hadn't counted on was the military draft. George had flat feet, and without glasses was almost blind, but after about 9 months at West Point, he got drafted! Why? he kept asking. But in the Army, he met another man who wanted to be a monk, John Kelly, who would eventually come to St. Benedict's Farm. After George's Army tour, Mr. Van Wart set George up again, on yet another of his south Texas ranches, this one near Waelder, Texas, in Gonzales County. There was a 100-acre plot separated from the main ranch, across Peach Creek; George could use that place rent-free for two years. This deal was struck in January of 1956. In July of that first year, John came from his home in Illinois, and before that, Robert Gannon, George's brother, had (temporarily) joined the community. Robert later left for a canonical community, studied for the priesthood, was ordained, became a hermit, and perseveres to this day in this vocation.

Shotgun-Shack Monastery

With used tin and lumber donated by Mr. Van Wart, George built a one-room monastery. A shotgun-shack, years later it was generously appraised by an insurance man -- so as not to hurt anyone's feelings -- at $400. The first year was the driest in the history of the weather bureau, the second, the wettest. Money was tight. Food budget: 37 cents a day per man. Even that would have been impossible were it not for a GI Bill program that allowed farmer-Veterans to attend night school on How to Farm, while receiving a small stipend. With two vets tapping into it, the Stipend program lasted 3-5 years, and it proved a lifesaver. All this first period was a time of great trial, very much akin to walking on water. The sign in the old house, Ad Quid Venisti? "Why have you come?" helped keep it all in perspective. Jesus had asked this question of Judas in the garden when the traitor had come to betray him with a kiss. St. Bernard had used it in his medieval monastery to help him keep his motives pure. We felt obliged to do the same. Why have you come? Ad Quid Venisti? The only acceptable answer, sink or swim: to seek God.

Celibate Men & Women... Together?

The next big challenge for George appeared on the scene at a time when -- for the first time -- our economic fortunes began to take an upward swing. It was the mid-1960's. We had gotten into Grade-A Dairying with its regular monthly checks! About this same time, 1967-68, we began moving towards the photography business. You can find out more about our struggle with various farming ventures and subsequent entry into photography elsewhere on this Website, and/or, especially in "our book," Your Friendly Neighborhood Monks. In making the decision to make our community open to both single men and single women, the Lord once again asked us to walk on water. Just as it had been when George asked advice on starting St. Benedict's Farm, almost everyone consulted about the decision to accept LaClaire as a member was against it. As founder and leader, George took the brunt of the attack, and the greatest heat was coming from family and friends. Now George's mother (his father had died by this time), who had always been our most stalwart supporter, turned against us. Our closest confidant in religious life was made our "enemy" likewise. It took a long time for these wounds to heal, but heal they did... magnificently. But not before we had walked an acre of crashing waves and blowing wind. LaClaire came, and then another young woman -- though for 6 years only -- but by that time, our new arrangement had been blessed by nearly everyone, including those who had most earnestly objected at the outset. God is good. Our history, Your Friendly Neighborhood Monks, has the complete story on this, so we move on to one last item in George's life, and that is the end.

'An Appointed Time'

Somewhere Scripture says, "There is an appointed time for each one to die, and after that the judgment." In mid May of 1996, George had a stroke. For two weeks he was comatose, then for 5 weeks awake, but inaudible. At that point, he was transferred to an "infirmary" here at St. Benedict's Farm. Slowly he regained his speech, but in spite of physical therapy, he made no progress in physical recovery. He could use his hands a little, but do little else, and was confined to bed for 5 months. In early December, his condition worsened. George died quietly early in the morning of December 10th, 1996, and was buried here at the Farm December 12th. All during this time, he had not complained a single time. Each one of the parade of Home Health workers came to appreciate George's sweetness, abiding humor and good heart. To the end, he was resolute in answering the question, "Why have you come?" "Why? To walk on water, what else?!" His gravestone is inscribed: George R. Gannon, Father and Founder of St. Benedict's Farm. And he is with us always.

Legacy

The gospel story of Peter walking on the sea to come to Jesus was a life-long vocation theme with George. Yet over the past 40 odd years, this allegory has fed and nourished the entire St. Benedict's Farm community, and has spread out from here. God has a way of pushing us to the limit, to see if we will still obey. Are there any circumstances under which we won't 'follow Jesus to glory'? These tests are often the mother of some very salty tears. But isn't this what Jesus promised to those who "sell all, give to the poor and come follow him? "100-fold in the present time, and in the time to come, life everlasting, along with persecutions"! Elsewhere we read: "If you want to be my disciple, take up your cross daily and follow me." George sure did, and in doing so, he proved his own adage: "It's hard to live like a monk, but it's easy to die like one."

WHAT WAS GEORGE LIKE?

Few people knew, or for some reason could spell, George's last name. So, in this essay, as in life, he is mostly George, or George of St. Benedict's. In many ways, George appeared larger than life. One after another, he mastered photography, sound recording, movie making & computer programing, as well as becoming an accomplished plumber, carpenter and electrician. Few things he put his hand to found him unequal to the task. When it came to dialog, George had no equals. He could ask, pursue and follow up on pointed questions like none other. That Scripture fits him well which reads, "A tester among my people I have appointed you." (Jer6:27) Yet he "tested" no one for pure sport; it was always to help or walk with the other person. However, if someone was not willing to "search for the truth," George was not really very good at "small talk." Though he had a ready sense of humor, and therefore he could "pass the time of day" for a little while with anybody... be he scholar or bum. He preached and lived being "interruptible." I don't remember ever bringing him a problem large or small, he was not ready to tackle. He was not always patient, though in later life, he became more so... and especially during his illness, he was faultlessly so. Perhaps his most engaging quality was his refusal to take himself too seriously. He was a truly humble man, a friend with no pretenses whatsoever. He made an impression on almost everyone who met him, and a deep impression on those who stayed the course with him. Since he authored several volumes of books and even more voluminous correspondence, his intellectual influence may be just beginning. We write this short account of his life here in praise to God, and in thanksgiving for all God did through him.