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Nuns on the ranch: Giving beef a Heavenly flavor Harvest Public Media visits an abbey where nuns return to a religious tradition: agriculture

Sister Gertrude, the abbey's resident cheese maker, holds one of the farm's cats, Shakespeare. (Photo: Sonja Salzburg/Harvest Public Media)
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2 minute read

Many beer aficionados are familiar with the rare breweries run by Trappist monks. The beer is highly sought after, but it’s not the only food or drink made by a religious order. Many abbeys and convents have deep roots in agriculture, combining farm work with prayer.

Just five miles south of the Colorado-Wyoming border you’ll find one of these places. Idyllic red farm buildings sit in the shadow of the main abbey, all tucked in a stony valley. At the Abbey of St. Walburga, cattle, water buffalo and llamas graze on grass under the watchful eye of Benedictine nuns.

Sister Maria-Walburga Schortemeyer, or Sister Walburga for short, runs the abbey’s ranch. Other sisters volunteer their time to work. The list of agricultural activities is long. In addition to the cows and llamas, they raise chickens and bees, most of which is used within the abbey’s kitchen. The water buffalo are the newest addition, brought on in April 2014, and milked to make mozzarella cheese. Though, because the sisters need a health certification for their operation, the cheese making is currently on pause.

The biggest moneymaker on the farm comes from the beef cattle. The sisters are very aware of their marketing edge, Sr. Walburga says.

“We have kind of a corner in the market, you know, nuns selling natural beef. People just kinda believe in it,” she says.

They’ve been in the grass-fed beef business now for about 7 years. Because their operation is so unique, they’ve never had a problem selling out of product.

“Some of our customers want it because of the beef,” Sr. Walburga says. “Some of them want it because they know how they’re being are cared for. We didn’t have much trouble and now we always have a waiting list for the beef.”

To keep the calves safe from the region’s numerous predators, the nuns employ a set of unorthodox security guards – the aforementioned llamas.

“We have seen them chase a mountain lion off the property,” Sr. Walburga says. “Llamas have various weaponry, one of them is their breath. They also, they kill with their front feet. They try to disembowel you. If they were upset with you”

That’s right, a disemboweling guard llama raised by nuns. Though the sisters say the llamas usually save their spit and hooves for intruders, not the nuns who feed them.

When many religious orders were founded centuries ago during the Middle Ages, agriculture was more than a way of life, it was a way of survival. Monasteries were self-sustaining, growing the food they ate. While farming has become less common as we’ve urbanized as a society, Sr. Walburga says the abbey’s farm is more than just a quaint business. Other sisters have questioned the ranch’s value, but Sr. Walburga says it keeps the sisters connected to the outside world.

“When our neighbors are suffering from drought or suffering from flooding, we can totally relate to them. We’re not above and beyond. The nuns are never touched by weather issues. It’s good to be at the mercy of the environment and so that other people know we don’t live some ethereal life,” she says.

Benedictine monasteries, with orders like the Trappists and Cistercians, use the motto Ora et Labora, meaning prayer and work. That motto doesn’t represent separate ideas to the sisters. All day prayer and work are intertwined.

“Praying with the scriptures is like chewing your cud,” Sr. Walburga says. “So all through the day we’re ruminating on it. We chew, chew, chew, swallow, regurgitate. So it’s not just ‘the Lord is my shepherd,’ it’s ‘the Lord is my cowboy.’”

In their simple farm clothes of plaid shirts, jeans and Carhartts, it can be easy to forget the women are nuns – save for the fact they still wear the familiar fitted white coif.

Back at the main abbey, Sr. Walburga dons the traditional black and white habit. No more Carhartt jacket. With farm work done for the morning, it’s time for prayer. Though it won’t be long before they’re headed back out to the ranch to round up some rogue llamas.

Photographer Sonja Salzburg contributed to this report. 

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