By Michael Patrick O’Brien–
Signs led my troubled family and me to a life-changing event—our first visit to the old Trappist monastery in Huntsville, Utah. I don’t mean miraculous messages conveyed in the stars or transmitted by supernatural voices. I mean flat metal or wooden surfaces with words written on them and then fastened to poles.
We were out for a family drive one day in 1972 and happened to visit the Ogden Valley. On the highway just outside of the small town of Huntsville, we saw a green and white rectangular sign that simply said “MONASTERY” with a direction arrow pointing east. It likely was erected by the local town or by Weber County, recognizing the unique sightseeing and historic value of the abbey.
It may have been providence or just serendipity, but we turned our car in the suggested direction and drove on for another mile or so. Soon we saw a similar green and white sign saying the same thing but this time pointing south. We followed that arrow too. Eventually, we arrived at some open metal gates capped by a single cross.
Just beneath the cross hung a long white sign identifying the surrounding 1,800 acre farm as the “Abbey of Our Lady of the Holy Trinity.” We drove under the sign and through the gates. To our right we saw an old wooden sign that said, “MONASTERY 1/2 mile” with one more directional arrow pointing up the road.
This iconic sign (depicted in the accompanying photo) was created sometime in the 1970s in the monastery wood shop. A monastery visitor skilled in…well, sign making…cut, lettered, painted, and installed the sign. It was his expression of gratitude for—and strong recommendation of—the monks’ great hospitality.
This sign marked the beginning of what I call “Abbey Road,” a half mile stretch bordered by alfalfa fields, rows of trees, and some of the most spectacular views of the snow-covered 9,000 foot peak Mount Ogden just to the west. Abbey Road was perfect for ingress and egress, but also for regular sightings of deer, elk, porcupines, and sand hill cranes, and even for leisurely walks made whilst contemplating the meaning of life.
On our first visit, at the end of Abbey Road we found the monastery buildings, and still more signs. One pointed in the direction of the monks’ unique Quonset hut church. Another identified the entrance to the small gift store the monks operated, listed the store’s hours of operation, and provided the times of the various monk chants held inside the church.
And of course, there always was a sign somewhere in that same vicinity that said, “Welcome.” After we saw and followed these simple signs, the Utah Trappist monks welcomed us warmly into their community of friends and we developed great relationships with them. I recount all of this in my book, Monastery Mornings, published by Paraclete Press in August 2021.
When the monastery closed in 2017 the green and white highway directional signs came down. Then someone stole the iconic wooden “MONASTERY 1/2 mile” sign. This probably forced the current landowner to take down and safely store the main gate’s “Abbey of Our Lady of the Holy Trinity” sign, lest it also be stolen.
The store and church signs are gone now too, just like the church and store. Halfway down Abbey Road, however, a pitched roof steeple-shaped white sign still stands, a gift to the monks from a local high school club. The sign memorializes, in black letters, the times of the various monk chants that used to happen daily, but now merely echo in the nearby foothills as memories.
Signs are an important fixture in—and sometimes an essential element of—religious history and spiritual development. For example, the four signs of the apocalypse are galloping horsemen representing conquest, war, famine, and death.
The Gospel of John describes the seven signs revealing the divinity of Jesus, including changing water into wine, feeding the multitudes with just seven loaves of bread and a few fishes, three healings, raising Lazarus from the dead, and walking on water.
And the great pagan Roman emperor Constantine converted to Christianity after a battle during which he saw a cross of light in the sky with the Latin words In hoc signo vinces (“In this sign conquer”).
We did not receive any such spectacular signs leading us to the Huntsville Trappist monastery, perhaps for good reason. The writer Adrienne Posey once said, “Signs don’t shout; they whisper.” I am so glad they whispered to us.
*Mike O’Brien is a writer and attorney living in Salt Lake City, Utah. His book Monastery Mornings (found here), about growing up with the monks at the old Trappist monastery in Huntsville, Utah, was published by Paraclete Press (more information here) in August 2021.
