Pentecost in our Olivetan Benedictine community
Pentecost is often called the birthday of the Church, the moment when the promised Spirit descended upon the apostles and sent them forth to proclaim the Gospel in every tongue. For our Olivetan Benedictine community at Mother of the Redeemer Monastery in Plaisance, the feast is far more than a single Sunday on the calendar. It is the climax of fifty days of rejoicing that began at Easter, and it shapes how we pray, work, and welcome guests throughout the rest of the year. Learn more about Supporting Us Through Our Planned Chapel Expansion.
Our home sits in the bayou country of south Louisiana, in the Diocese of Lafayette, but the Pentecost rhythm we keep belongs to the whole Catholic world. Monks who pray the hours here are united with oblates praying in Brisbane, with families lighting candles in Perth, and with Vietnamese communities gathering in Marrickville to hear the readings in their own language. The Spirit does not recognise borders, and neither does our observance of the feast. Learn more about The Spirituality Of Work Ora Et Labora Explained.
We have written this reflection for our friends across the Pacific, particularly for Catholics in Australia who may have heard of our house and wish to understand how a small monastic community marks this solemnity. We hope it serves as a window into the chapel and into the life of prayer that gathers us each morning, midday, and nightfall. We also hope it encourages readers to consider a visit, a retreat, or a vocational enquiry should the Lord plant such a seed.
Below we describe the vigil, the extended Divine Office, the multilingual Gospel proclamation, the symbolism of red vestments and floral decoration, the Pentecost novena, and the way we welcome visitors into the joy of the feast.
The vigil of Pentecost
On the eve of Pentecost we gather in the monastery church as the light fades over the rice fields west of Plaisance. The vigil is shorter than the great Easter Vigil that precedes it by seven weeks, but it carries a similar architecture: a Liturgy of the Word, a sung proclamation of the Gospel, and a renewal of baptismal promises. The abbot blesses water, and each brother renews the vows by which he has given his life to God.
For Catholics watching from Adelaide or Hobart, the structure of this vigil will feel familiar. The Roman Missal offers the same shape to parishes in Australia as to monasteries in Louisiana. Where a parish priest may dismiss the assembly within an hour, our vigil stretches through Compline and into a quiet hour of adoration. The fields grow dark, the crickets begin, and the words of Veni Sancte Spiritus settle into the heart.
In the chapel we use red vestments, the colour of the Spirit's tongues of fire, and we replace the paschal candle with a fresh one lit from the sanctuary lamp. The light is offered to the eldest among us, then travels hand to hand until every brother holds his own small flame. Visitors often speak of that moment long after they have returned home.
Multilingual readings and the universal Church
The Acts of the Apostles describes the first Pentecost as a gathering of devout Jews from every nation under heaven, each hearing the good news in his own language. We try to honour that detail in our own small way. Although our brothers come primarily from the United States, our oblates and guests arrive from many countries, and on Pentecost we invite those who are willing to read a portion of the Pentecost account in their mother tongue.
This practice resonates with the Australian Catholic experience. Parishes in Sydney's western suburbs regularly hear the Easter Vigil proclaimed in Vietnamese, Tagalog, Arabic, and Spanish, and Pentecost there often resembles an international festival of speech. Our chapel cannot match the scale of a Melbourne multicultural gathering, but we share the conviction: the Gospel is for every people, and the Spirit chooses many accents.
After the readings, the cantor intones Veni Creator Spiritus in Latin, and the community responds in English. The two languages overlap, a deliberate reminder that the Roman liturgy holds Latin and the vernacular together in prayerful bilingualism. It is a small foretaste of the heavenly liturgy, where every tribe and tongue finds its place before the throne.
The great hours and the Divine Office
The fifty days of Easter reach their summit in the Pentecost octave, and the Divine Office marks this with particular solemnity. We sing the invitatory of every hour from a special antiphon, and the psalms of Lauds and Vespers are