Monastic life simultaneously embodies two elements: a test bed of hope and a light of hope. This unique situation—where living quarters are confined, choices are limited, encounters with others are extremely restricted, and the rhythm of daily life remains almost unchanged—constantly serves as a test bed for the monks and nuns. Although we are encouraged to sing a new song, life often settles into a semi-desert state where nothing seems new or surprising. No one can boast that their life does not drift this way. Moreover, precisely because one can become ensnared by a pseudo hope, living within the monastery yet drifting toward a life seeking satisfaction in worldly achievements, the call to “stay awake” is so frequent in monastic life. Yet despite all this, hope is always presented before us in clear form. Not only are the daily Mass readings and the Eucharist important, but also the message from the General Chapter, the Abbot General’s circular letter, and the stirring wisdom we receive from tradition are always close to us, shining the light of life.
Founded in 1987, the Sujong will celebrate its 40th anniversary in 2027. Its nearly 40-year journey itself clearly demonstrated that hope is both a test bed and a light. The decision to engage in eyeglass frame manufacturing—a livelihood difficult to reconcile with monastic life—plunged the founding community into chaos. Ultimately, paying the heavy price of losing everything financially served to awaken us more profoundly to the nobility of the monastic life. The arduous search for a livelihood continued thereafter. Only after four business failures did the jam business stabilize, enabling us to begin the path to self-sufficiency starting in 2006. Until then, for nearly 20 years, we endured a period where we could not survive without the economic support of the founding monastery of Sujong, Tenshien. From December 2007 to April 2011, the Sujongman Shipyard issue distracted the Sujong community from focusing on its internal journey. Yet, on this testing ground of hope, we felt our longing to immerse ourselves more deeply in Cistercian spirituality only grow stronger.
Throughout this journey, the community possessed all the conditions necessary to become an abbey, yet hesitated to pursue it. This hesitation stemmed partly from concerns: what relevance would an abbey hold in modern times? Might not the community become intoxicated by the grand-sounding title of “abbey,” thereby losing the very simplicity of Cistercian life? In 2024, during this period of reflection, the new Abbot General, D. Bernardus, visited Sujong. He strongly encouraged us to proceed with the elevation to an abbey, emphasizing that our community was experiencing normal growth and there was no reason for delay. This news of elevation is, in fact, a joyful message of renewal for the Order, especially for communities facing challenges like aging and potential closure. We felt the Holy Spirit urging us to move forward, and we responded with joy.
The future life of Sujong, like all monastic communities, will depend on how sensitively we awaken to and respond to the promptings of the Holy Spirit. Amidst concerns about the decline of monastic life, the Sujong feels a keen need to witness the joy of the Gospel centered on Christ by living out the spirit of desert life and community life, the foundations of our charism. We sense that we are entering a new era, a time when we can and must impart new life as a mature community. This presents a new test of hope, while simultaneously offering us a light of hope. In other words, from the destination we have reached by rowing in hope, we must once again raise our sails and set out for a new hope.
This urges us to immerse ourselves in the hidden apostolate of daily life within the Cistercian community. Repeating the minute tasks of monastic life, routines too trivial to savor their fruits, journeys where trials and oblivion are more common than recognition and encouragement—repeating this, one may suddenly find oneself having lost that light, standing in the pitch-black night. It is precisely this absence of hope that often leads to losing sight of the meaning of the path one walks, changing course, or losing momentum in one’s activities. Such endeavors not only yield few tangible results but also frequently bring criticism instead of recognition, even for dedication. Without a light to illuminate the way ahead, human despair may well be the inevitable outcome.
Even monks or nuns may lead a lukewarm life or leave the monastery if there is no certain light of hope. If hope is a light in the night, this hope is different from the goal to be achieved. There is often a tendency to confuse goals with hopes—such as obtaining a university degree, advancing in a career, or achieving success. Monks and nuns are not free from this either. While these objectives may provide a temporary sense of hope, the excitement they bring often fades once they are accomplished. It is well-known that many people who achieve great things and succeed in society often experience a sense of emptiness afterward. Why does this emptiness occur after achieving their goals? This observation suggests that these accomplishments are not the ultimate solution to happiness. We might find ourselves on a similar path, and perhaps these pursuits can obscure true hope. Hope is closer to an attitude toward life than a goal to be achieved. In this context, St. Paul said hope is invisible. What is invisible gives light to what is visible. Only what lies before us can illuminate us, and only what transcends us can lead us forward. When this invisible thing becomes our true hope, true life becomes our true self deep within us.
So whenever hope seems within reach, we must lift our eyes forward once more to seek new hope. Our life is a pilgrimage. What a great blessing this is—how vigorously life becomes when there is always a place to reach! Now, with hearts pounding, we await that unseen thing that awaits us. Such a life is ever new, even in old age. Countless islands lie before us—islands we must continually reach, explore, observe, and live upon. Today, too, we are heading toward some island.
After a journey of over forty years, we are now hoisting fresh sails toward a new island—toward hope. ◼