In a world torn apart by conflict, division, and injustice, Abbot Marion Nguyen offers a quiet yet profound reflection: even behind cloistered walls, the monastic life radiates a powerful missionary witness. It may seem paradoxical monks, after all, are not missionaries in the traditional sense. They don’t roam cities or villages, preach in streets, or anoint the sick in foreign lands. But the monastery, Abbot Nguyen reminds us, is a living model of the universal Church an oasis where prayer, community, work, healing, and Christ’s presence converge.
In fact, rather than monks going out into the world, it is the world that often comes to them. People from all walks of life believers and skeptics, wounded and weary find their way to monastic doors seeking solace, meaning, or simply silence. And above many of those doors is a single word that defines the monastic vocation: Pax Peace.
When Christ sent out his disciples in the Gospel, his first command was not to teach or to heal, but to offer peace: “Peace to this house.” That peace, as Abbot Nguyen notes, is not of our own making it is Christ’s peace. It is this same spirit that St. Benedict captures in his Rule: “Seek peace and pursue it” (Prologue 17). A monk’s missionary heart, then, is forged not in activity, but in interior stillness.
Abbot Nguyen outlines three ways monks live out this quiet but radical call.
St. Benedict writes with striking clarity: “Let all guests who arrive be received as Christ” (RB 53:1). In the monastery, hospitality is not a social custom but a sacred encounter. Guests are welcomed with a bow or even a prostration gestures usually reserved for Christ himself. This is not mere formality; it is a spiritual recognition that each person is sent by God. In this, monks rely not on possessions or plans no purse, no sandals but on grace, trusting that every encounter is providential. Peace here is not manufactured, but received.
Monasteries are not immune to tension. They can reflect the same human frailty found anywhere. But the difference lies in how monks respond. Benedict instructs them to resolve anger before the day ends (RB 4:73), recognizing that unspoken bitterness becomes spiritual poison. Monastic peace is forged in daily decisions to forgive, to understand, and to surrender pride. “If one brother loses, both lose,” Abbot Nguyen reflects. Peace is not the absence of disagreement it is the fruit of choosing reconciliation over ego. Without charity, even justified anger becomes a tool of the enemy.
True peace begins within. The Rule counsels monks to “speak the truth from the heart” and avoid false appearances of holiness (RB 4:28,62). The long road of humility in Chapter 7 of the Rule teaches monks to shed self-centeredness and live hidden in God. In silence, in daily repentance, and in surrendering the will, the monk learns to make space for God, for others, and for his own limitations. A peaceful monk is not perfect, but he is free free to love, free to serve, and free to be led.
When Christ sends his disciples, he does not give them prestige or control. He sends them with peace peace that prepares the soil for grace. This is the true missionary posture: not conquering hearts, but opening them. Whether behind cloister walls or walking city streets, the disciple’s task remains the same to bring the peace of Christ into every place and encounter.
The monastery, then, is not a retreat from mission it is mission in stillness. A quiet fire of peace burning in a noisy, fractured world. And in every bowed head, shared meal, healed wound, and forgiven brother, the Gospel is preached without a word.