I closed my mouth, the intake of breath forgotten, and looked away from the rather macabre display. On the table in front of me, amongst a simple display, sat a skull, said to be from St. Saraphina who lived in 1200’s AD.Next to it, a well-preserved forearm and hand extended from the table, the bones pristine and strangely weighty with their history. Just moments ago, Richard and I had been sitting in the vast, peaceful cathedral, waiting for the monks to arrive for prayer, simply soaking in the Benedictine silence. Neither of us could have predicted the invitation that followed.
A young monk, his eyes alight with contagious enthusiasm, had approached our pew. "Would you like to see our relics?" he'd asked, almost bubbling over. To appease his obvious eagerness and perhaps out of sheer, ill-informed curiosity, we said, "Sure."
Now, standing here, a few steps down a roped-off hallway on the far side of the church, I realize the full, visceral meaning of "relics."
Richard, ever the pragmatist, was taking a more scientific and historical perspective, leaning in to read the faded Latin inscriptions. But for me, the atmosphere was a surreal blend of part museum and part mausoleum. Table after table was laid out along the corridor, winding around the foyer, covered in artifacts brought out, as we learned, just once a year for the Solemnity of All Saints’ Day. We stumbled into this unique invitation on exactly the right day, at the right time for it was November 1st and the sacred observance of the saints.
A History Held in Bone and Cloth
The monk, whose name I instantly forgot, explained the significance of what we were seeing. In the Catholic tradition, the veneration of relics is a time-honored form of piety. These are more than historical artifacts; they are tangible "presences" of the saints, physical remains (first-class relics), objects they owned, or something they touched. For the monks of Mount Angel, following a tradition rooted in their founding from Engelberg Abbey in Switzerland in 1882, these relics are a profound connection to the Church's 2,000-year history, and a way of honoring the ancestors of the church.
It embodies the very essence of All Saints’ Day. After the spooky, reflective observance of All Hallows’ Eve, where we remember the departed, All Saints’ Day (November 1st) is a moment to celebrate those holy men and women who followers feel have already achieved eternal life. Here, in the quiet corridor of this Oregon abbey, we glimpsed a world few ever really witness.
Holding A Saint in My Hand
Then came a profound moment for me. The young monk led us through the vestibule where a very large display case held hundreds of small boxes, each individually labeled. As he opened the heavy glass lid I could read one label as St.Francis of Assisi.. My eyes lit up for this was a reliquary that interested me. Growing up Catholic, but not much of a follower any longer, St. Francis’s devotion to animals and nature always resonated with me.
"This is a fragment of bone from Saint Francis of Assisi," he whispered. "Would you like to hold it?"
I paused, holding my breath again, and reached out my hand where the young monk placed this tiny plastic box in my palm.
St. Francis, the beloved patron of animals and the namesake of the Franciscan order, known for his radical poverty and love of creation, apparently I was holding a piece of him.
“Looks like a thumb”, Richard said leaning over my shoulder. Frowning, the young monk corrected him by telling us it was a fragment of bone.
Looking at it reminded me that Saints, even Jesus, was once a real, living, breathing human. For the monks, these relics represent a connection, a conduit to emulate each Saints holiness in their eyes, and to feel their presence in their daily lives.
St. Benedict Himself
Naturally, the most elaborate and central display was devoted to the founder of the entire tradition, St. Benedict of Nursia.
The Benedictine monks of Mount Angel live their lives guided by the Rule of St. Benedict, a blueprint for monastic life written over 1,500 years ago, balancing prayer and work. For the man whose wisdom continues to shape the community and the Willamette Valley’s spiritual landscape this elaborate display devoted to him seemed fitting for it was a beautiful, golden reliquary containing pieces of his life. His teachings are the anchor here, at the Abbey.
As I stepped back out of the quiet corridor and into the main church, the sun hitting the stained glass, a question entered my mind, and subsequently caused Richard and I to venture down a rabbit hole of information. What does a display of ancient body parts mean to my modern world?
In many ways it could be viewed as a profound lesson in legacy and continuity, a forceful counterpoint to our disposable, fast-paced society. To the monks these relics are more than archaeological artifacts; they are the physical memory of people who once walked the earth, people who truly "preferred nothing whatsoever to their faith."
Maybe they represent a quiet, yet insistent, challenge to seek a life of deeper, more enduring meaning. Maybe they simply represent a history, a marking of a life well lived in devotion. Maybe they are open to interpretation by the viewer.