God alone is holy. A human being is holy only insofar as he shares in God’s holiness. He can do this through Christ, who called himself “The Way.” There is no other way.

Was Francis Pfanner a saint? In other words: How can a saint be recognized? Since the incarnate Son of God is The Way to the Father, the answer must be: By his Christ-likeness. A holy person is like Christ, whom he tries to imitate as much as possible, not by his own efforts alone, but aided by God’s help, i.e., grace. Grace, in turn, builds on nature. No matter how gifted and worthy of emulation a person may be, if he does not seek God and give God the honor, he cannot be a saint by Catholic teaching.

The Church, as the steward of God’s grace on earth and, wise from long experience, lays down certain conditions before she beatifies or canonizes any person. So far, Francis Pfanner’s saintliness has not been established by canon law; only the first step of the Cause of Beatification and Canonization (causa) has been initiated – inquiry into his life and writings. As he was not a martyr, his way of life must provide evidence of the practice – to a heroic degree – of the theological virtues of faith, hope and love, as well as the cardinal or principal virtues of prudence, justice, fortitude and temperance. Since he was a Trappist monk, the heroic practice of the religious vows is also expected of him. (What is new is that according to Pope Francis, Christians who have “voluntarily” offered their lives out of charity can also be beatified (Motu proprio Maiorem hac dilectionem of June 11, 2017).

This article is not the place to go through Francis W. Pfanner’s life for evidence of these virtues. Some, for example, his love of neighbor and enemy have been highlighted in previous articles in this series. Here, the aim is to sharpen the eye for genuine virtue as opposed to its natural equivalent. He himself was well able to differentiate between the two.

Francis Pfanner was not a conventional “saint” and certainly not like the commercial plaster figures depicting saints – if he was a saint at all. A good way to discover the “saint” in him is to ask questions: What was the student Pfanner concerned about? The pastor? The Trappist and missionary? What guided him in his decisions? What was the purpose of his numerous undertakings? What moved him most deeply? It is best to let him answer these questions himself. (Unless otherwise stated, all quotations are taken from his Memoirs).

Where he describes himself, he appears as one who took himself to task and ruthlessly admitted his weaknesses. He wrote: “No one will say that I’m a saint; neither do I claim to be one. What I do know, however, is that I am a favorite of God.” Biblically speaking, God’s favorite is the one “whom God loves [and therefore] chastises.” (Heb 12:6) Now, Francis Pfanner was “chastised,” i.e., misjudged, slandered and rejected all his life and even after his death. For example, three bishops – Vuicic in Bosnia, Ricards and Jolivet in South Africa – took exception to him, accused him to Propaganda Fide and demanded his removal from office. Those cases were shelved, but in 1892, visitator Abbot Strunk did succeed in having him suspended and, a year later, removed from office. Thereupon, the founder withdrew to Emaus and spent the last 15 years of his life there in exile. The first thing he did – even before he built a stable hut for himself – was to erect a 130-meter-high Way of the Cross which he then climbed every morning until he died. With the suffering Lord before his eyes, he reflected on his own crosses and ended each meditation with the words: “Like Jesus, so I” – not an empty phrase but a daily practice, as Sr. Angela Michel, who supported him, testified.

Abbot Francis was aware of his weaknesses and admitted them. “I have thought many times about what St. Francis de Sales, St. Vincent de Paul and so many other saints would have done in such circumstances [his legal disputes in Haselstauden, Bosnia, etc.]. Would they have let themselves be stripped of everything? Would they have parted with their cloak when their shirt was taken? Or would they not have come into conflict in the first place? I assume that I was to blame, for if I had been a saint like Vincent and Francis de Sales, many of my decisions would not have been as precipitous as they were.”

Another time, he described his fearlessness. “The Brixen seminary staff had described me [after his ordination] to [the vicar general at] Feldkirch as someone who did not easily get frightened or run away. Now, let these words not be interpreted as boasting. When I write my own story, I must write it as I myself believe and am convinced. And I do believe that I have never been plagued by fear of man or that I am a coward; neither has anyone accused me of that, including my opponents, of whom I have had and still have many in my life, perhaps precisely because of my fearlessness. Moreover, the direction I had taken in Bosnia and my perseverance there under the most difficult circumstances and in the most dangerous situations cannot make me out to be someone who is easily scared, nor can my decision to go to Africa and my situation there be interpreted that way. But this is not to suggest that my fearlessness or lack of fear of man is a virtue; in fact, it would be very wrong to regard it as such. It is rather my inborn character (inherited from my father) and the way I was brought up. I know quite well that my recklessness has already degenerated into impudence, and even now [1888] it often turns into rudeness. … St. Francis de Sales has often been held up to me as a model for the guidance of souls, but I say: First, I am not Saint Francis, and secondly, I am not a Francis de Sales but Francis of Mariannhill, which means that I am not only the superior of nuns as he was, but also of men, and indeed of penitents in penitential garb, whom one need not handle with God’s kid gloves. On the contrary, the rule tells me: ‘Argue, increpa – rebuke, scold.’ Moreover, de Sales was a Frenchman; the Frenchman is generally more refined than the German and must therefore treat his people more delicately than I treat mine. In fact, the French Trappist is pleased when his abbot couches his order in ‘s’il vous plaît’ [please]. I believe, however, that a superior, be he spiritual or secular, may well forget about the ‘please’; otherwise, he would make himself ridiculous if he wanted to say ‘shut up!’, or ‘keep quiet!’ or ‘go away!’” Self-assessing descriptions like these testify to a gift of discernment. What they do not explain, however, is what counts in the inquiry for beatification: what God’s grace has made of a natural gift like veracity. Has it led the candidate to unwavering perseverance in fellowship with his Master who also was faithful to himself until death?

What may be safely assumed is that despite all misjudgement of his purposes and person, Francis Pfanner’s firm resolution was: “I can, I will, I must become a saint.” This, by itself, demonstrates the cardinal virtue of Christian prudence, which does not confuse the temporal with the eternal, but can renounce the temporal and ennoble it without destroying, by false zeal, that which is good.

In this sense, prudence goes hand in hand with justice, the virtue which consists first and foremost of respect for all people, giving them what they are entitled to and what they need in order to live a dignified life, and ultimately loving one’s neighbor. There is no need to find examples of this in the founder’s biography because his life is one long illustration of this virtue. What ideas and solutions did he not propose and implement so that people in Bosnia and Africa could live a more fully human life?

As far as fortitude (valor) is concerned, may it simply be stated that the valiant person is fully committed to what he has recognized as good and true, even if it means personal sacrifice and disadvantage. Understood in this way, no one will doubt Francis Pfanner’s virtue. Not so, however, when it comes to discretion or maintaining a “healthy balance” in terms of work, asceticism, renunciation, austerity or zeal. Indeed, moderation in these matters (temperance) must have been one of the greatest challenges he faced before being able to bring them under the “sweet yoke of Christ” (Mt 11:29).

In conclusion, the cardinal virtues may be summarized in the words of 1 Cor 16:13. “Let all that you do be done in love!” On this criterion, Francis Pfanner, like everyone else, will be judged by his Maker. Should he fail, “who will be able to stand?” (Ps 130:3)

Francis Wendelin Pfanner – 200 Years

“We can’t run our missions without the help of women,” Abbot Francis said in 1885. He appealed to young and not so young women to come to Mariannhill and introduced the first twelve who arrived as “my helpers” to Bishop Jolivet of Natal.
German women alongside “Silent Monks” in South Africa! “I have caused a revolution,” he explained in a letter to Sr. Paula Emunds, his right hand, “and you are a daughter of that revolution.” (December 2, 1902).

This article explores aspects of the story of the Missionary Sisters of the Precious Blood which were unheard of at the time.
When Zulu children first spied the abbot’s helpers at Mariannhill, they called them “Red Sisters,” because of the flame red skirt they wore as part of a colorful apparel which the abbot himself had designed for them in the style of women of his native Vorarlberg, Austria. Red was to remind them of the Precious Blood of Jesus which they were “to make fruitful” (Mariannhill Convent Chronicle); it would attract color-loving Zulu girls and, last but not least, distinguish them from the dark-clad wives of the Lutheran pastors in nearby New Germany before anyone could think that they, too, were the wives of the Trappists. When in 1908 Propaganda Fide banned the red habit, the founder protested from his exile in Emaus: “Why forbid it? Red is in keeping with/matches the rule I gave them! After all, I didn’t intend to found Carthusian or Trappist nuns. In fact, I did not think of a penitential order at all but a missionary congregation.” (Letter to Cardinal Gotti, September 10, 1908).
“Our mission field is the Kingdom of God and that has no boundaries,” Abbot Francis wrote in the St. Joseph’s Leaflet (No. 1, 1889), and we like to add that his imagination knew no limits either, particularly when it was a matter of carrying out the Great Mandate of the Lord. At the same time, however, he didn’t give too much thought to the requirements the Church laid down for female missionary congregations. His helpers were simply to support the Trappists in the missions and eventually replace them, so that they could return to their regular life in the monastery.

Above all, it was important to the founder that his helpers served people who did not yet know Christ: “You sisters have come here exclusively for the missions.” (Address, October 9, 1887)
What Abbot Francis envisioned was not a congregation of working sisters, as is sometimes alleged, but rather of “sisters who stay with me through thick and thin. They do not only teach school, but also work alongside their pupils in the fields.” (To Propaganda Fide, November 24, 1903) To explain what work was or supervise it was not enough, because people would only become convinced by example of the benefits of efficient work. More importantly, work, along with prayer, was by time-honored Benedictine tradition, the pillar that gave stability to a new local church – a missionary principle which would have been new to any woman engaged in evangelization in the 19th century.
It is likely that, over time, the abbot’s helpers would have formed a sort of secular institute, if the clocks of the Church had run faster and the Lord had not had other plans. For despite all their missionary enthusiasm – or because of it?! – they felt called to follow Jesus more closely. Abbot Francis: “These women came to me and expressed the wish to form a religious community” (To Propaganda Fide, November 24, 1903) and, as if he had sensed it, at the very next clothing ceremony (16 October 1887) he gave them a red habit (instead of their colorful apparel). “I changed the various requirements I had laid down for them into a rule,” even though, as he explains, “I knew absolutely nothing about the many ecclesiastical regulations for women’s congregations until last year (1907) when a relevant book by Augustine Arndt, S.J. fell into my hands.”
Even more astonishing, as early as 1887, Abbot Francis asked his helpers to elect a superior from among their own ranks and appointed Sr. Paula directress of novices. She was 21, and the superior, Sr. Theresia Moser, 22. One pauses and wonders what was more “revolutionary” – his own astounding trust or their humility to allow themselves to be assigned to these positions. The truth is that it was precisely because of his unerring eye for inner greatness that the experiment did not fail. Theresia Moser was the only child of her parents (who also offered their services to the Mariannhill Missions). In 1898, when Bishop Allgeyer of Zanzibar was recruiting Red Sisters and warning them of the deadly coastal fever, she is said to have exclaimed: “Malaria! Express train to heaven!” She was sent to Tanga and fell victim to the epidemic six months later. (Sr. Lecuniana Schweimer suffered a similar fate when she died of a tropical disease around the same time in the Congo.) Sr. Paula (Josephine Emunds), from the village of Schleiden near Aachen, had come to Mariannhill only a year earlier (1886) with no more qualifications than six years of elementary school and a 4-year course in housekeeping. She was just cleaning the stovepipe at the “sisters’ house” when Abbot Francis called for her. He did not know her. But he recognized her leadership talent at first sight and, in 1889, he also appointed her local superior and directress of postulants at the house of admission in Kirchherten, Germany. She did not disappoint him. In 1907, she was unanimously elected superior general and from then on led the congregation for 24 years. She is the co-foundress of the Missionary Sisters of the Precious Blood.
The founder’s recruitment campaigns for volunteers were as original as he was. One of his particularly effective slogans was: “no talent too great and none too small to serve the Lord’s kingdom.” Women from towns and countryside applied through Mariannhill’s contacts in Germany, Austria, and the USA – cooks, seamstresses, nurses, housekeepers, and teachers with professional experience. Maria Treumund (Sr. Philippine) began teaching school under a tree in Mariannhill with no more than five words of Zulu the day after the Feast of the Nativity of Mary (September 8) in 1885, traditionally the birthday of the congregation, and shortly thereafter published the first Zulu dictionary. Others rode on horseback to the sick in their homes or, as in Emaus, erected buildings from bricks they baked themselves. Abbot Francis would have also liked to have women like these as administrators of their own mission farms and workshops. Why not? In 1904, he sought to win over Sr. Paula to his plan: “If women in civilized countries can now become doctors, why can a Red Sister not be a doctor of architecture and mechanics? Women play a major role in social life, why not in the missions? ‘Woman of little faith, why did you doubt?’ [Mt 14:31]” Two years later, he dreamed of a “Day for Missionaries” to give missionaries, including religious brothers, a platform for exchanging experiences and ideas. “And why not also missionary sisters? They, too, have something to offer.” (Dictation, 1906)
As long as their founder was at the helm, the sisters were naturally part of the Mariannhill family, as he had stipulated in his guidelines for them: “They give all their physical and mental strength to the mission, while the Trappists provide for them in days of health and sickness.” Consequently, the Ölenberg Chronicle referred to his helpers as the “Red Trappistines” (in contrast to the “White Trappistines” at Ölenberg Abbey), and the people of Kirchherten welcomed them as Trappistines in 1889. However, in the long run this close familiarity with the Trappists nearly brought an end to them in 1893, when their founder was removed from office and his successor, Abbot Amandus Schölzig affiliated them to the Trappists as a third order (tertiaries), not only to give them stability but also to keep them as cheap labor. And they, feeling very much like orphans, clung to the Trappists as a last resort. They followed their monastic customs, recited grace in Latin, practiced silence and, because they assembled at least five times a day for choral prayer, they worked that much less. Therefore, not everyone was in favor. More critical observers among them saw their missionary purpose as well as their independence at risk, but they could not assert themselves. The fact that the budding community did not fall apart but emerged stronger from its identity crisis (1893-1900) is primarily due to Sr. Paula’s unwavering loyalty to the founder, her courage and her drive, despite the fact that her mediating role between the various superiors in the order and church, not to mention her own sisters in north and south, was anything but enviable.

Meanwhile, the founder’s hands were tied while in exile at Emaus, but when his second successor, Abbot Gerard Wolpert, began to re-organize his helpers according to his own designs and counter to their original purpose, he demanded their independence from the Trappists: “You are not nuns, not choir nuns, you are sisters to help in the missions. Neither are you handmaids of the Trappists, but handmaids of the Lord.” (“At the 11th Hour,” 1901). However, in case they themselves were to aim at something different than what he had intended for them, he “did not wish to be called their founder anymore, for my foundation is not simply an imitation, but something unique.” (To Abbot Obrecht. 1905) By God’s grace, Abbot Francis lived to witness the church’s approbation of the sisters’ constitutions in 1906 and their recognition as Missionary Sisters of the Precious Blood (independent at least by canon law) in 1907, before he died in 1909.
Shortly after the outbreak of World War I in 1914, the congregation faced an existential crisis, caused by a lack of vocations and rising costs. The procurator general recorded: “Our assets are still worth a pair of shoes,” and a day later: “They’re still worth one shoe.” The sisters barely escaped bankruptcy, because who wanted to support sisters whose cradle stood in South Africa but who were virtually unknown in their homeland? In this crucial hour again their close ties with Mariannhill proved near-fatal. So, it was with great relief when in 1929, after almost twenty years of tough negotiations, Mother Paula finally succeeded in concluding a contract that secured their financial independence from Mariannhill, though in the eyes of some sisters, it was to the detriment of the congregation. But Mother Paula defended the separation: “Better poor but free.” The Mariannhillers themselves experienced a missionary renewal, and the sisters resumed their missionary calling with renewed vigor – despite or because of? – their dire poverty.

It is not only monasteries and mission stations that can be traced back to the monk-missionary Francis Pfanner, but also religious communities. Although “The Missionaries of Mariannhill” (CMM) were not founded by Abbot Francis, they owe themselves to his inspiration. By their present constitutions, they want to “remain faithful to the spirit of Abbot Francis Pfanner” [427]; their superior general “should be a strong and courageous leader in the footsteps of Abbot Francis Pfanner” [479]; and “their vows should be the guideline for a life of faithfulness and creativity, as exemplified by Abbot Francis Pfanner” [706].

The early history of The Missionaries of Mariannhill has already been sketched (see Art. 04 “Dunbrody-Mariannhill” and Art. 06 “The Monk-Missionary”). It was never purely monastic but also missionary. The will to harmonize these two ideals initiated a process in the course of which the year 1905 represents a milestone. 24 missionaries, including Abbot Francis, petitioned Propaganda Fide to grant Mariannhill’s 25 missions with their approx. 10,000 Christians and 3,000 catechumens, “a viable legal basis” (A. Roos, “A Piece of the Kingdom of God”). Their purpose was to save these missions before Abbot E. Obrecht could cede them to other missionaries; it was not to give Mariannhill another identity. The petition was shelved.

The Mariannhillers were determined to be missionaries and would not accept Obrecht’s manner of not consulting them. When Obrecht left South Africa for good in August 1907, the chronicler commented that “he was feared by all, hated by many and loved by none.” Immediately after his departure, Prior Isembard Leyendecker made every effort to keep the missions.

Their true identity, monastic or missionary, was a much-disputed topic among the Trappists of Mariannhill. When after twenty years they had not yet reached an agreement, Abbot General Augustinus Marré intervened. At his initiative, the 1907 General Chapter appointed a special commission to propose a solution. Obrecht was a member, and the recommendation was: “to separate Mariannhill from the order.” It was adopted on September 17 and endorsed by Propaganda Fide. However, no one wanted to break the news of the decision to the Mariannhillers. Therefore, Marré involved Dr. William Miller, OMI, Apostolic Vicar of Transvaal. His advantage was that he was familiar with the situation in Mariannhill; his disadvantage – he did not speak German. Marré provided him with two letters: an official one, authorizing him to convene a meeting which the Mariannhillers had already planned, and a private one, advising him to chair it in such a way that the Mariannhillers themselves would opt for separation.

53 participants – excluding Abbot Francis and two other priests – gathered in Mariannhill on May 10, 1908. Brothers had no vote. Miller hinted that, strictly speaking, they had only one choice: either to remain a Trappist monastery, but without missions, or to leave the order. The whispering began (Roos) and continued until Miller decided that the right moment had come to put the following motion to the vote: “The assembly requests the Holy See to grant Mariannhill and its missions a viable administration.” 51 participants voted yes. Miller’s mission was accomplished. Afterward, the assembly adopted, with only minor adaptations, the Trappist Book of Usages and then Miller announced the outcome of the vote to the brothers. Completely taken by surprise and consternated, they blamed the capitulars for having carelessly compromised their birthright as Reformed Cistercians. Marré, to whom some of them took their complaints, denied his responsibility in the matter and referred them to Propaganda Fide, which, with its sights set on Mariannhill’s flourishing missions, justified the separation, arguing that, after all, the Mariannhillers had asked for it themselves.

The next instance, the Congregation for Bishops, Priests, and Religious delegated its consultant, Abbot Primate Hildebrand Hemptinne, OSB to review Mariannhill’s application. He took five months to come to the conclusion that Mariannhill should be separated from the Trappist Order and not seek affiliation with any other. Rather, it should be erected as a canonical institute and its members made responsible for the missions and for the recital of the Divine Office, and the formation of novices and clerics. A suitable title would be “Religiosi Missionarii de Mariannhill” [Religious Missionaries of Mariannhill, RMM]. He also recommended a three-year period of transition.

Pope (St.) Pius X signed the decree of separation on February 2, 1909. Miller immediately informed Superior Leyendecker of the decree but preferred to announce it to the community by himself upon his return from Rome, on July 28, 1909. The priests, not to mention the brothers, were outraged. Separation was not what they had intended, but only that Rome would grant them an administration that assured both the advocates of the monastic ideal and those of the missionary ideal among them a life in peaceful co-existence. Abbot Francis, however, who was informed of the decree before his death on May 24, 1909, is reported to have exclaimed: “Thank God! What I always intended has come about.” (Sr. Angela Michels, Reminiscences)

Only gradually did the Mariannhillers recognize that the missionary lifestyle, not the monastic, was the more adequate one for them. This is reflected in their present constitutions (2025) which state: “In the spirit of Abbot Francis Pfanner and the early community of Mariannhill … our congregation adopts its missionary objectives” [104]. And: “We have the courage, following the example of Abbot Francis Pfanner and the early community of Mariannhill, to also take up new paths.” [111].

When the separation went into effect, Mariannhill did not have to make a completely new start; rather, it could build upon its Trappist foundations. It boasted a whole column of hardworking, qualified brothers, extensive tracts of arable land, flourishing missions, and a stable home base. Francis Pfanner’s efforts to promote vocations and solicit funds by establishing a respectable printing and publishing facility and overseas agencies now benefitted it. It enjoyed a good reputation. However, though clearly oriented in name and purpose towards the missionary ministry, the transition to fully claiming its new identity was long and painful. The Mariannhillers still prayed the Cistercian Office, wore the Cistercian cowl and observed Cistercian customs. Contrary to Hemptinne’s explicit warning, they even made several attempts to join another order, for example, the Cistercians (OC), until Rome put an end to all provisional arrangements and declared Mariannhill an independent religious institute of simple vows (March 21, 1914). It was to elect its own administration for a six-year term of office. Mariannhill never did. World War I broke out, and Gerard Wolpert, the last elected abbot of Mariannhill (who resigned in 1904) was made provost.

The war spread insecurity, severed contact with Europe, emptied the coffers and novitiates, and threatened all German expatriates with internment. Mariannhill stagnated.

After World War I, two canonical visitators, Edward Schröder, SJ and Ildefons Lanslots, OSB, gave Mariannhill’s missionary orientation fresh impetus. They facilitated the 1920 General Chapter at which the very successful missionary, Fr. Adalbero Fleischer from Rhodesia (Zimbabwe) was elected superior general. The Cistercian liturgy was replaced with the Roman rite, the choral office suspended, religious names abolished and the cowl exchanged for a black habit and red cincture (black leather belt for brothers). The one-man overseas agencies were turned into small local communities. When the novitiate house St. Paul’s in The Netherlands (est. 1911) hesitated to adopt the changes, Cardinal van Rossum, Prefect of Propaganda Fide, without further ado, gave the novitiate a Jesuit director and made the Mariannhill Institute responsible to his own dicastery (June 26, 1920). He himself became cardinal protector in 1921 and Mariannhill and its missions became a vicariate in 1922. Fleischer was appointed vicar apostolic and, by way of a rare exception, administered both institute and vicariate simultaneously for four years. Immediately upon taking office, he looked for ways to implement Pope Benedict XV’s encyclical “Maximum illud” by establishing “The Daughters of St. Francis” (1922) and a year later, “The Familiars of St. Joseph,” both indigenous congregations of episcopal right.

In 1926, Fr. Hermann Arndt was elected Superior General and Mariannhill became an institute of pontifical right (CMM). In Germany, despite post-war constraints, the “Pius X Seminary” was built at Würzburg and land in Africa mortgaged to meet the expenses. In 1928, the general administration moved its residence to Würzburg, placed all European houses under its jurisdiction and erected “The Mariannhill Monastery and Missions” as a province. 1930 was particularly hard on the institute, for by the puzzling but explicit order of Propaganda Fide, it had to trade its flourishing missions in Mashonaland for those of the Jesuits in Matabeleland (both in Zimbabwe), a most undesirable exchange. But then, as if to compensate it, Rome appointed two of its missionaries as prefects apostolic: Fr. Emanuel Hanisch , CMM for Mthatha (1930) and Fr. Ignatius Arnoz, CMM for Bulawayo (1932).

On January 30, 1933, Adolf Hitler came to power. He was unpredictable. To be armed against any harassment, Superior General Reginald Weinmann, elected in 1932, acquired a house in Austria to serve as a refuge in the event of expulsion from Germany. In 1936, he relocated the generalate, first to Altdorf (Switzerland) and then to Riedegg (Austria). What everyone had feared came true. In 1938, Hitler engineered Austria’s “Anschluss ans Reich” (Germany’s annexation of Austria). Superior General Reginald Weinmann was fortunate in having a South African passport that enabled him to escape, via Switzerland to England, where in mid-June he moved into an old monastery in Hatfield-Peverel, Essex, and dedicated it to the “Mother of Good Counsel.” The houses in Switzerland, Germany, and Austria were made provinces. The start of World War II was only a matter of time.

Abbot Francis’s words: “Our mission field is the Kingdom of God and that has no boundaries” came true. By 1939, Mariannhill had become a tree which spread its branches and continued growing in Francis Pfanner’s spirit. (For the further development of the Missionaries of Mariannhill, see the next article, “His Foundations Today.”)

The third article of this series was about the priest, Wendelin Pfanner, who at age 38 became a Trappist. In this article the question is: How did the monk Francis turn missionary? The short answer is: by God’s design; the long answer: by a painful process in fidelity to his calling.
Unlikely though it may seem, the Trappist and the missionary already stirred in Fr. Francis when he was still a seminarian. Abbot Francis writes: “Whenever we prayed the ‘Miserere’ [Ps. 51], I felt … an irrepressible urge to go to the missions. The desire to work for the missions tormented me and gave me no peace.” (Unless otherwise stated, all quotations are taken from the Memoirs of Abbot Francis.) His bishop decided that he was not strong enough for missionary work.
So, after his ordination, Wendelin was assigned to parish ministry. He served for nine years at Haselstauden, Austria and afterwards as confessor to sisters in Zagreb, Croatia. In 1863, a long-standing lung condition and other circumstances forced him to turn over a new leaf. Like the seminarian, he was again drawn to both monastic life and the missions. He wanted “to enter an order where the rule is strictly observed,” and at the same time he felt called “to become a missionary in Central Africa,” after the example of his countryman, Ignaz Knoblecher, missionary and explorer in the Congo Basin. However, a life-threatening intestinal inflammation which he had contracted in Suez, Egypt in May that year signaled to him “that I was not fit for Africa.” Therefore, he entered Mariawald Monastery. For the time being, the Trappist vocation prevailed over the missionary.

Prayer, work, and fasting restored Fr. Francis’s (his Trappist name) health and the call to the missions receded to the background. In 1869, he founded Mariastern Monastery in Turkish Bosnia. It was an Islamic country, listed in the books of Propaganda Fide as mission territory. But in July 1880, at the invitation of a missionary bishop, he led an expedition of 33 Trappists to the Cape of Good Hope, South Africa, not to become a missionary, but to develop Dunbrody Farm. Two years later, he and his monks exchanged Dunbrody for the province of Natal and founded the Mariannhill Monastery.
What were the chances of a Trappist becoming a missionary?
Trappists are an order of cloistered contemplative monks. Their rule, centering on prayer, penance and perpetual silence, does not provide for missionary work. When they did engage in such work, it was at the express requests of Popes Pius IX and Leo XIII. Abbot Francis (abbot since 26. 12. 1885) explained the specific Trappist vocation before anyone might wonder if the silent monks of Mariannhill were going to turn missionaries. He wrote: “The actual missionaries and the Trappists can be compared to a fire brigade. Some firemen deliver water to the engine; others stand by the hose and direct the water to the fire. … The missionary priests are the actual leaders of the mission and attract attention, but what contemplative men and women contribute to the mission is no less necessary, though less conspicuous; namely, prayer which calls down the grace of the Holy Spirit. If we [Trappists] can no longer be used for anything in Africa except to implore God’s grace upon the missions, we are content and make no other demands.” (Forget-me-Not Nr.5 & 8, 1885)
Their vocation aside, Bishop Jolivet of Natal did not want the Trappists at Mariannhill to be assigned a mission territory of their own, nor should they be supported by missionary organizations such as the Paris Foreign Missionary Society. The monks were to live the life of ora et labora but not work as missionaries. However, the bishop seems not to have reckoned with the people living close to Mariannhill. The Zulus soon discovered Abbot Francis for themselves, not only as a stern Nkosi (lord, landlord) whom they feared, but also as a caring provider. They did not know “the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ” (1 Peter 1:2), and Abbot Francis wondered, why not. Were they not entitled to the Good News of their salvation? Who was he to withhold it from them? Gradually, closer contact with the indigenous people re-awakened the missionary in him.

The Trappist rule allowed for the regular works of Christian charity – care of orphans, basic schooling, proclaiming the Good News, nursing the sick, feeding the poor – to be performed within the precincts of the monastery, for such works did not fall under the category of missionary activities. However, when in 1886 tribal chiefs arrived in Mariannhill to ask for missionaries and schools, the principle of self-containment had to be reviewed. So far, Mariannhill had “evangelized” by presence; now it was challenged to leave the “safe haven” of monastic enclosure, cross boundaries and come to the aid of people in their physical as well as spiritual needs.
Abbot Francis responded to the call not by choosing missionary activity over monastic observance, but by attempting to combine both. His address at a reception ceremony of Trappist novices says that much: “The heart which is covered by the religious dress must always burn for the order, but head, hands and feet are to work for the missions.” (19.10.1887) His understanding of what Mariannhill’s missionary vocation was also echoes from his well-known maxim: “Our mission field is the Kingdom of God and that has no boundaries” (Josefsblättchen, 1889, No. 1).
According to the general Trappist self-understanding, however, observance and mission were incompatible. The question is therefore legitimate: Did Abbot Francis know what he was getting into? It seems not. But he was determined to try. The many hardships, risks, slanderous accusations, etc., that he faced speak of his determination and resilience.
By 1890, many Mariannhill Trappists were heart and soul missionaries, but not all. So, to forestall polarization, Abbot Francis tightened the rules, only to earn for himself the reputation of being an unyielding radical (“The Disobedient Rebel”). Only very few in the order were willing to credit him with genuine love for both mission and observance. But, controversy aside, his pride and joy was in being a Trappist: “We strictly follow the rule. We do not need mitigations,” he asserted, even at the last General Chapter he attended in 1891.
Nevertheless, confrontation was inevitable, for opinions differed too much. Partly forced by circumstances and partly by his own impetuosity/unyielding manner in opening “too many missions too soon,” he got caught between the camps. Those who knew him less well accused him of stubbornness and disobedience, saying either that he disregarded the rule or that he clung to it too fast. Not everyone managed to walk the tightrope between observance and missionary engagement, or, as the saying was: “primer [to teach reading to children] in one hand and [a Trappist] rulebook in the other.” By 1891, many Mariannhill monks asked themselves if it was reasonable at all to harmonize the two.
Of St. Ansgar, monk and bishop (801-65), his biographer Rimbert had written: “At heart, a monk – in deed, an apostle.” But Ansgar was a Benedictine, not a Trappist. No one in Mariannhill at that time would have agreed with Thomas Merton, himself a Trappist, who wrote that Mariannhill was “an astonishing spectacle of a Trappist mission of contemplative monks who, according to purely Benedictine principles, cultivated an apostolate of prayer and work, of liturgy and the plough.” (The Waters of Siloe. NY: Harcourt Brace, 1949, p. 157) Why? Because their self-image, unbelievable though it may seem, was that of Trappists until long after their separation from the order (1910). (See Article 6 of this series.)
In 1891, Abbot Francis submitted to the General Chapter 16 demands compiled by his missionaries. All expressed but one wish: that Trappist missionaries be treated as any other missionaries. He may still have done so with a divided heart, but barely a year later, challenged by Mariannhill’s visitator, Abbot Francis Strunk, he committed fully to mission. At this point, he still believed that Trappists were the best missionaries as they improved the local infrastructure and thus gave the Gospel a chance to take root among people. He stated firmly: “I am still the old conservative progressive who … as a missionary always strives further, but as a Trappist remains firmly rooted in the old ways.” (Forget-me-not, Special Issue, December 1892. No. I: “More enlightenment.”)
In December 1892, Abbot Francis went into exile rather than betray his convictions. As he stated, he considered himself both “conservative progressive,” but the stress was gradually shifting to “progressive” = missionary. The condition which the visitator Francis Strunk laid down was not so much for Abbot Francis to give up mission work (Strunk was not anti-mission, and the vicar general, Abbot Sebastian Wyart, was decidedly pro-mission), but rather, that Strunk outright rejected mission as carried out by Pfanner – a demand in which the latter felt the old Mariawald resentment against himself and his monasteries (Mariastern, 1869 and Mariannhill, 1882) confirmed. (Strunk had been prior of Mariawald in 1887 and two years later, abbot of Ölenberg, when the slanderous talk about Fr. Francis was still very much alive.) “Betraying his convictions” would have been to betray himself. The founder obeyed his superiors by carrying out the decree of suspension issued to him in 1892; he obeyed God by never betraying the trust he had been given by God for mission.
Only at Emaus, after much prayer and with new insights gained, did he begin to doubt the compatibility of missionary activity with Trappist observance. Accordingly, in November 1905, he signed a petition to Propaganda Fide drafted by Mariannhill’s leading missionaries asking for an adapted rule. 18 months later, however, he was convinced that the two ideals were incompatible. He wrote to his abbot general, Augustin Marré: “If I were young again, … I would certainly not become a Trappist…” Because he despaired of Trappists? Not at all, but because neither he nor his three successors in office had been able to bridge the gap between the two ideals. He continued: “I would rather join a missionary society where they do not constantly quarrel over rule and mission.” (28.3.1907) He then referred to a rule he had written (and sent to Rome with Administrator Abbot Edmund Obrecht) as early as December 1905 for a missionary institute which, under the tutelage of Propaganda Fide, should adopt only their system of manual labor from the Trappists.
Towards the end of his letter to Marré, the aging founder gave free rein to his heart: “I would be the first one [in the new institute he called Propaganda Piccola] to steam to Europe by train [of which he had dreamed] and give a thousand more talks about the progress of the missions in Africa and Russia.” And then – the young Pfanner from his parents’ farm in Langen, Austria comes alive! – “I consider the world a huge dairy cow; whoever knows how to milk it should do it. … I would like the new missionary society … not just in South Africa, but … all over the world … and the Trappists alongside it, so that they could compete with each other. Then it will show which is the better missionary principle, expansion or concentration. … Trappist and missionary under one umbrella are incompatible.”