A cloistered monastery for contemplative nuns in Hollywood?

Since 1934, the Monastery of the Angels has been operating three stoplights above Hollywood Boulevard - quietly, until a couple months ago when the Los Angeles Times blew its cover and ran a two-page, heart-tugging feature proclaiming that the Dominican monastery was in such dire financial straits it might close.

Fortunately, that turned out to be not exactly the case, although the old oven in which workers baked their legendary, to-die-for pumpkin bread did break down. But almost before you could say a rosary, an anonymous donor came forward to buy a new $30,000 commercial oven, and the bakers were back in business.

"That pumpkin bread story just took off, and I'm glad that it happened because it really put the spotlight on us," says Sister Mary Raymond, prioress of the 3.5-acre, Spanish-style Monastery of the Angels at the base of the Hollywood Hills. "We wanted people to know that we are here to pray, and that's our job and that's our duty. But nobody from the media was interested in that angle."

Well, not quite nobody….

'Prayers for Hollywood'
The 82-year-old woman religious from Colorado and Sister Mary Pia, 76, the novice mistress, are behind the cloister's iron grill, eager to explain to a visitor what their life of contemplative prayer is all about.

But first there's that seemingly theological paradox of a Catholic monastery literally blocks away from the seedy streets of Hollywood peopled by assorted pushers, prostitutes, runaways and aspiring movie stars, among other folks trying to make it in La-La Land.

"When the Sisters came out here from Newark, they wanted a monastery dedicated to the angels because of Los Angeles," Sister Mary Raymond reports. "The place was gorgeous with that huge mansion in the back. Actually, we're sitting on what was the front lawn. So they came with the hope and thought they would, you know, be joined by people who wanted to do prayers for Hollywood particularly."

The place was the old Giroux estate, once owned by an industrial copper king. "The Sisters didn't want to come to Hollywood," Sister Mary Pia says with a smile. "That was the funny thing. They didn't want any kind of worldly association."

But as it turned out, Hollywood - even back in the '30s, before most of the studios and their moguls moved away - badly needed a bedrock source of spirituality.

"Because we are part of the Dominican order, we have that missionary outreach," the novice mistress continues. "And Hollywood is a missionary place, even much more than the depths of Africa or the Far East. That is what people tell us. They pass our monastery and they say, 'There's people who actually believe in God in there, and they're giving their whole lives.' This inspires people to think of God, just to know we're here."

Fair enough, but a monastery of praying nuns in white habits and black veils in arguably one of the most hedonistic locales on the planet still begs the query: Don't you get discouraged or downright depressed that your prayerful efforts seem to fall on, well, deaf ears?

"I never get depressed," Sister Mary Pia responds. "God has his ways of coming to people."

But Sister Mary Raymond is shaking her head. "OK, that's her. She's a sweet little person," she quips. "I come from a long line of depressed Germans. People are not ignoring God, but they have their own gods: money, movies, whatever. And I just feel if they got to the right god, boy, they'd be in business 'cause they work so hard at it."

After a pause, she says, "But the more you know there's things going on in the world that are not quite right, it spurs you on to more asking and praying for them, and also for yourself, to try to do things better. So I think it's not a depressing thing."

Liturgy of the Hours
Following the monastic tradition going back to St. Benedict of Nursia, the father of Western monasticism, in the sixth century and later St. Dominic Guzman in the 13th century, the 19 nuns at the Monastery of the Angels pray the Liturgy of the Hours throughout the day and evening.

They rise before 5 a.m. for Lauds and Matins (which usually comes during the night). And lights go out at 9:15 p.m. after Compline. There's a nightly procession singing the Salve Regina to their large chapter room, with its nearly life-size statue of the Blessed Virgin handing the rosary to a kneeling St. Dominic, who fought the middle-age heresy of Albigensianism. At morning Mass, they sing hymns and chant responses.

Silence, for the most part, is observed throughout the day and evening, except for an hour of daily recreation. Two hours of religious study is also mandated every day. In addition, the sisters work at different tasks, ranging from gardening to cooking, cleaning and doing laundry. But because of their age - which now averages 71 - hired workers do most of the strenuous manual jobs, including baking the acclaimed pumpkin bread.

As their name implies, the Dominican nuns have a special devotion to perpetual adoration of the Blessed Sacrament. Sisters take turns throughout the day, and most of the evening and night, before the exposed Holy Eucharist above the altar.

But what about that grill separating them from the rest of us?

"Oh, it's very important," says Sister Mary Pia. "It's a valued sign of our withdrawal from the world. Now some people in this day and age think it's crazy - you know, the world is the place where human beings live. Well, if we want to pray and contemplate God and do our work for the world, we're going to have to control our minds. And because of that, we have to withdraw from worldly activities, business and that kind of thing."

Sister Mary Raymond recalls when she entered the Monastery of the Angels at 18 there were actually two almost solid grills with holes. So to talk to somebody on the outside you had to squeeze your face into the holes.

"It was really bad, and when I first came I really felt it," she says with a shake of her head. "I love it myself now. But remember, in Dominic's time these grills were put up for the Sisters for their safety, so people could not get at them. It's the reverse of what it is now."

And the silence?

Another glance is exchanged from behind the grill. "Because you can't have prayer if you're talking, so silence enriches prayer," points out Sister Mary Pia. "And our prayers as practiced during the Hours of the Liturgy, they must go on all day. Contemplative life must continue throughout 24/7.

"We don't have sign language like some monasteries do," she notes. "We speak if it's necessary in a low voice and briefly. And it's really beautiful. You come into a busy place like our kitchen, people are silent. They're contemplating God and offering their work to God."

Both agree some folks find the no-chatting environs hard, especially novices who have a hundred questions and observations about their new enclosed life.

"But you can't cut somebody off when they talk to you, even if you're deep in contemplation over the pots and pans," Sister Mary Raymond concedes. "You just don't if you want to live happily ever after here."

The cloistered Dominican Nuns of Perpetual Adoration pray for special requests they receive from their telephone ministry and also more recently from e-mails. They pray for the down-and-outers in Hollywood and other Los Angeles locales. And they pray for those who don't love and serve God, making reparations for their lack of faith.

"God needs to be adored and praised," stresses Sister Mary Pia. "As creatures of God, we need to do that."

'Peaceful inside'
Surrounded by white See's candy-like boxes on shelves in a temperature-controlled room, Sister Mary Jordan is explaining to the visitor her "regular job" of almost single-handedly operating the Monastery of the Angels' major money-making enterprise - the distribution of altar breads (unconsecrated hosts of different sizes) to local churches in the Los Angeles Archdiocese.

Somehow she's able to fill weekly and monthly orders to about 150 regular customers and still do her gardening work, practice the organ, cook on weekends and accompany older nuns to their doctors' appointments - besides, of course, keeping up with the daily Liturgy of the Hours along with private contemplation, study and prayers. Although the 57-year-old native of the Philippines has lived and worked inside the Hollywood cloister for 19 years, she's still considered a "kid" being the second youngest woman religious here.

"Outside I worked as a librarian and I had many friends, but still there was something incomplete," she explains. "When I entered, I thought I was going to miss my family and my friends, but I was so peaceful inside I didn't miss them at all. It's really a very, very happy life. You can never imagine that there is such a life like this where you really have a direct contact with the Lord. Because in the chapel you sit there face to face and can really talk to Him.

"So I love it, but you have to embrace it. Because there are crosses, but they help you grow in maturity - spiritually, physically, emotionally. You live with the same people 24 hours a day and that can be difficult. But they say if you don't have any sufferings and crosses in the religious life, there's something wrong with you."

She laughs before adding, "I read that in a book, and I think it's right. But it's a very balanced life. You have study, you have work, you have recreation - and you have Mass and prayer. Outside they say too much work makes John a dull person. But here you have no choice except to follow the schedule that has been devised to lead you to a meaningful life. It's heaven on Earth."

To learn more about the vocation of a Dominican nuns at the Monastery of the Angels, contact Sister Mary Pia at (323) 466-2186, x45 or monastery1977@att.net. The monastery is located at 1977 Carmen Ave., Los Angeles, CA 90068-4098.