Imagine a place where silence isn’t just the absence of noise, but a profound presence that whispers to your soul. That’s exactly what you’ll find at the Monastery of Christ in the Desert, tucked away 13 miles down an unmarked dirt road in Northern New Mexico’s Chama River valley. This secluded sanctuary is home to 15 Benedictine monks, a handful of livestock, and a guesthouse for those seeking refuge from the chaos of modern life. But here’s where it gets intriguing: this isn’t just any retreat—it’s a place where the stillness is so profound, it’s almost deafening.
Brother John Chrysostom, a monk with a surprising background in academia and investment banking, describes it perfectly: ‘The silence here is deafening. No sirens, no electrical buzz, no cell phone connection. It allows you to hear what you’re meant to hear.’ And what you hear is the rhythm of monastic life—the chiming of bells, the melodic chants echoing seven times a day. These chants, Chrysostom explains, aren’t just songs; they’re prayers. ‘A monk doesn’t just want to chant the Psalm,’ he says. ‘He wants to *become the Psalm, to embody it in his very being.’*
This remote corner of the world has long attracted seekers and visionaries. Artist Georgia O’Keeffe found inspiration here, and in 1964, Father Aelred Wall established the monastery, with a church designed by the renowned architect and furnituremaker George Nakashima. But what’s truly fascinating is how this ancient way of life intersects with the modern world. Brother David, known online as The Desert Monk, shares their daily rhythms on YouTube, blending ‘inner space with cyberspace.’
And this is the part most people miss: the monks don’t see themselves as separate from the world. ‘We need the world as much as the world needs us,’ Chrysostom insists. Guests are invited to participate in the monastery’s life—whether by praying, eating, or simply hiking—but they’re never pressured. ‘You’re just required to be,’ he says. This philosophy echoes the wisdom of the desert fathers, early Christian hermits who questioned the purpose of their solitude: ‘Whose feet will you wash out here in the desert?’
Visitors like Mary and Joseph Roy from Washington State find something here that no five-star hotel can offer. ‘The sun on the red rocks, the River Chama flowing by—it’s a good way to listen to God, to listen to nature,’ Mary reflects. Joseph adds, ‘It’s about being more aware, hearing the divine in every person’s story.’
But here’s the controversial part: in a world that glorifies productivity, this monastery challenges us to embrace stillness. Is silence truly a luxury, or is it a necessity for hearing our deepest callings? And if places like this exist to reconnect us with the divine, why do so few of us make time for them? What if the quiet isn’t the goal, but the gateway?
As Chrysostom observes, the monastery’s location in a canyon offers a metaphor for spiritual growth. ‘These hills, these cliffs—they’re false horizons. You think you’ve reached the top, but you’re just beginning to ascend.’ Perhaps that’s the real lesson here: the journey upward is endless, and silence is the first step.
What do you think? Is silence a path to enlightenment, or just an escape from reality? Share your thoughts in the comments—let’s spark a conversation as profound as the stillness of the desert itself.
For more information, visit:
- The Monastery of Christ in the Desert: https://christdesert.org/
- Brother David’s YouTube channel, The Desert Monk: https://www.youtube.com/@TheDesertMonk
